The Secret Kept

He turned his eyes from the green fields that had just been trampled under the rampaging demon’s feet. To avoid the imbalance caused by the land’s shaking, he took a leap into the air, turning to face the red Semi demon that had gained a shard of the Shikon Jewel. The monster’s blood red eyes shone with its rage, its oversized body moving with abnormal speed as it headed towards him. Opening its large pointed mouth, it let out a blast of lighting that took up most of the young warrior’s sight. The bright lights from the blast blinded him to his enemy’s charge. Unable to see much else beyond that of the huge lighting ball coming his way, the silver haired warrior brought down his arm and quickly drew the ancient sword that sat steadily at his left hip. The blade that previously been worn with age, took the shape of the great fang from which it been forged. Knowing that this demon’s blast was not powerful enough for his sword the warrior acted quickly. With sword drawn back he swing against at the blast. The wind currents from the impact blew against his face, and carried with it scents that could be read as clear as any parchment. One scent in particular made him stiffen in recognition, making his body stir with a desire he couldn’t and wouldn’t allow. He couldn’t help but mentally curse his own demon nose for its sensitivity as the wind once again reminded him of his greatest shame.

He wanted nothing more than to go and take the object of desire into his arms. To finally, after all these years, be released from the constant burning that holds him. Yet, as the Lord of the western lands he could not have what both body and heart long for, but only what the mind decree appropriate.

Sesshomaru kept walking, not allowing anyone to see what ailed him, taking what pleasure he could from the aroma that dominated his senses, ignoring the painful tightening of his lower self that was mercifully hidden by his lose pants. He was the lord of the western lands; one of the most powerful demon lords around. He could not have his love in life, only in dream.

He felt the aftershock of the blast hit him, the pressure tearing at his body. The redirected blast hit the Semi Youkai tearing at its body, but causing only a little damage due to the protection of its shard. The warrior began a steady decent back to the ground, but had little fear of falling. With little worry for the corrupt creature in front of him, the swordsman once again drew back his arm and this time brought the sword down in a mighty slash. The sword let loose the mighty winds it carried around its self, the blast soon revealing how miniscule a threat the demon had truly been.

The demon could do nothing but watch as the blast headed towards him. He found himself frozen in awe before the great beams of light that proclaimed his death. The light grew larger as it came to him. Even now while his body was overcome by the evil of the jewel shard he knew what weapon was being used against him. This was the great weapon that the legends told of; this was the fang that the father passed to his most important of sons. This was the tool of the gods and their most beloved child. He felt the blast hit him then, and tear his body apart, and still, even the corruption of the shard could not stop the feeling that came to him in the end. It wasn’t hate, or anger, but the feeling that it was an honour to have gazed upon this wonder in his last moment.

The warrior’s feet touched ground as he watched his blast cut apart yet another demon who just had to fight him. He let out a soft sight too soft to be heard by his surrounding companions. “Rest well” was the only blessing he could give it. He swept his arm up, the sun catching the bright red of the sleeve as he brought his sword down in to the sheath that hung from the equally red pants. The sword shrunk from its previous form to that of the normal single blade sword as it was slid back home. With a sad, unseen look at the body, once more the young senshi turned his gaze to his fellow combatants.

The monk Miroku, though really you called him a monk very, very lightly, wore a purple robe that hung over a black kimono calmly being lifted by the wind. He could see that Miroku kept his left hand on the beads that covered the other hand ready to unleash his most powerful weapon. What the beads hid was a black hole that would suck in everything in its path when released from its cage.

To the monk’s right was the Taijiya, Sango, along with her loyal companion, a demi neko youkai. The last of her tribe, the hunter was dressed in a full body black leotard toped with pink guards at her elbows, knees, and shoulders. The overall outfit was finished off by a matching guard stretching down along her stomach, and over her crouch, held in place by a long red cloth. He couldn’t help but admit that the dead village of Taijiya had known what part of the body was most vulnerable to attack. The neko was the size of a horse. Covered in smooth yellow fur, her feet flamed with her every move from her mouth hung two large fangs the length of Sango’s thighs. The neko youkai was capable of flying; often times were responsible for getting Sango closer to her rival. On the Taijiya’s back was a giant boomerang, which had been shaped from a dead demon’s bone. The weapon could slice most demons in half. Both stood ready to attack if needed.


His eyes fell then to the young woman that was on the other side of the fallen demon. Black shoulder length hair still flying in what was left of the wind the warriors fang had caused.

“Well” he said, watching her staring at what was left of the dead creature.

She blinked her brown eyes at him, obviously at a loss for what he was asking.

She had been traveling with him and the others for some time know, fighting demons and other things that most humans would never see in their life time, and still even know she was in shock at the sight before her.

“Well what?” she replied still frozen to the spot.

“Where’s the shard?” he practically yelled at her. The only reason this girl traveled with them due her ability to sense the Shikon Jewel shards. Mind you, she was also the only one that could see where in the demons they fought the shards were.

He watched as understanding came to the human girls eyes. “Oh, the shard,” she said signaling a group sigh from the others.

The girl squinted her eyes as she began her search for the shard inside what was left of the demon’s body. She skimmed her eyes over the corpse, hurrying to find the prize before the shard began helping the vanquished demon rejuvenate itself. Her eyes made their way to the right leg and widened as they were drawn to something only she could see.

Walking up to the body she picked the shard out of the body. The shard once corrupted by the more wicked emotions had been in the demon, immediately began to glow with upon contact with her. This was another reason why she was needed in the search for the shards; she was the only one who could touch the shards without having her darker parts arise. She was, in a way immune to the will of the shard; instead the shard was purified of all evil by her touch.

She reached behind her to feeling, he knew, for the string that hung around her neck. Pushing her hair up, she brought the string over her head, holding its chain in front of her. She looked intently at the small glass jar where she kept the pieces of the jewel they had collected. Hands moved steadily to remove the stopper from the jar; soon another piece was added to their ensemble.

The girl herself was an odd sight for any traveler to see. For her clothing, instead of a full kimono, she wore the deep green bottom of a kimono that was far too short, and showed off her legs to great effect. The top she had on, had white-sleeves much tighter than any kimono’s sleeves and clung very closely to her breast. She looked whorish with so much of her legs, and a top that though covered her left nothing to a man’s imagination. He constantly had to worry about men coming on to her. She was a lot of trouble and she made him angry at times, but the girl had been traveling with him since she had released him from that damned tree, and he did still need her.

Finished she turned to look to him, eyes rolling as if it had been him that was taking up all their time. “Yes Inuyasha, I’m ready.”

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