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The Great Trial	By : WinterDovane Category: InuYasha > Yaoi - Male/Male > InuYasha/Sessh?maru > InuYasha/Sessh?maru Views: 22203 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha and Co nor do I make any money from this fic.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Sorry for the wait; not only have we moved, but I've had no internet connection. Thanks to all you that review, all of them keep me going.

4: On the Edge of the Abyss

That’ll teach me to open my big, fucking mouth... The hanyou gurgles in an attempt for air.
The demon lord’s aura pulsates with displeasure. His lower regions churn with the bile of anger, anger that he is not so quick to dismiss. Long years of ingrained reactions is the deciding factor in his next move—ironically, he relocates faster than the human eye can track and takes his little brother by the throat—one of his signature moves. A credit to his control is that the half-breed’s toes are barely, yet still, scraping the ground. Moreover, his claws are not emitting deadly clouds of poison, and blood is not staining his hands nor InuYasha’s neck. The grips of his hand more than his claws are holding the hanyou.
If he hadn’t been so angry, he might have given himself some credit.
Even though the demon lord has unwillingly hunted the half-breed, he is still the first son—pureblood and high monarch of the West. He is somewhat accustomed to InuYasha’s brash bragging and profanity—but THIS is another matter outright. Few dared disrespect him or his noble bloodline, and those that dared met their untimely end. However, personal attacks on his own honor (after living through the trial and taunts, himself) and worthiness of their father are an unfortunate trigger. InuYasha’s answer, regrettably, touched a nerve the demon lord didn’t realize existed. The reverberations echo through his bi-ped form, right up his spine. He had expected, prepared for a flat-out refusal. Not this:

Well... the old man died so that my mother could escape certain death. I’ll fight for his lands and his people. I’ve got honor, no matter what the fuck you think, and I’ll repay that debt to him. I’ll fight with the Western Army... But, I won’t fight beside you, specifically. Me, stand beside a pure-blood? No way in hell. You need the Wind Scar, fine. Give me the time and place, and I’ll be there.

This infuriated the demon lord.
Angered him as only InuYasha can do.
The bonds and boundaries he has worked so long to place on his inner youkai are perilously close to bending. His skin feels too tight, hot, and itchy; the prickling in his lower gums is elongating fangs that are too long and sharp for his bi-ped jaw size. Even his claws are longer, sharper, than normal but still do not break frail human skin. The vibrations in his abdomen are not comforting, soothing noises—but warning growls of his heightening anger. The growls drown out the human’s attempt at filling his lungs and the choking noises as he tries to make his throat work against the hand holding his weight.

Test four: Sesshomaru, pissy-ass, icy bastard... identity confirmed. Few had this kind of choke hold, just the right amount of pressure to keep from crushing his windpipe.

This thought inanely passes through InuYasha’s mind as his vision starts to blur from suffocation.

Deciding factor: even red-eyed, growling, and radiating ‘seriously pissed-off’ vibes, the bastard’s cold expression hasn’t changed in the slightest. He has just as much disdain and distaste in that stony face as always. Sentiments and family bonding be fucking damned. His bastard brother didn’t mean a word of it. Protect him? Make it safe? Feed him? Warm him? Lies, all lies. Stupid untruths to lure him into a false sense of security—to let his guard down so the fucking son of a mangy, flea-bitten, poxy bitch could one-up him. The whole thing was about his death AND the sword after all.

Spots and gray edges.

Out of some instinctual move to survive, the human’s hand goes from uselessly clawing at the demon’s with blunt nails to the small bag in his haori.

“Let me test my understanding,” the voice borders on animalistic—more garbled and baritone than human. “You would fight for the land, our father’s legacy, yet not at my side? Your own blood?!” The hand tightens juuust an inth more, and the windpipe under his hand creaks painfully. “While I fought beside you against Sou’ung, against an undead army, against Naraku, against your own tainted blood, and this! This is how you repay me...”

Tainted. He catches Sesshomaru’s voice fading in and out.

The fangs pulse as the human’s world tunnels, spirals to the face of the demon that will eventually be his conveyance to the underworld. Heart pound erratically in his ears, lungs burning with the need to breathe, fingertips and nose numbing. Well, fuck. He’d already decided not to make it easy— he would not die dangling like helpless meat.

Tainted.

Fuck you too, asshole, with one hand—he flicks the stink pellet at Sesshomaru’s feet.

The inaudible snap fills the hairsbreadth of space between them with the most putrid scents. The glands of several skunks, the arousal scent of stinking cat demons in heat, the rank leavings of a rotted bear demon, snow monkey piss, rotting fish, even hints of multiple excrements invade the demon lord’s highly sensitive nose. He does not flinch even though the immediate change in scent gives him an instantaneous headache above his right ear. However, the abrupt change does calm his anger somewhat; he snaps back into himself to realize what he has done and how conditioned responses might have ruined everything before it really even began. He drops his brother, noting the blue tint to his lips that is not an effect of the cold.

Drop, duck, roll to the balls of his feet, out of the smoke. Still dizzy and partially conscious, the human tries to make the motion as manly and smooth as possible—less scramble, more finesse. Covering nose and mouth with his sleeve, he manages to get out from the cloud with watering eyes as he stumbles forward. Damn things are worse than I remember.

The lack of air is effecting his human form; his balance is off, yet a split-second decision—door or balcony—gives him intense pause for crucial moments while the future possibilities of both options range to the impossible to highly impossible: an realistic climb thousands of feet to waiting soldiers below or try sneaking his way through the monstrosity of a castle he’s never been in before that just crawling with full demons. Demons that would scent him out in less than two seconds.

Well, damn.

The climb, he would at least have a chance of staying to the shadows without the moon’s light and his scent might be carried off in a down wind. The heat of a pissed-the-fuck-off demon aura is enough to make him choose the lesser evil: balcony door is closest.

Decision made, the hanyou stumbles out into the night and against the railing. He looks down, breath already puffing in the frigid air—a clean breath after that damn pellet. He looks down for a few seconds to see the long, long, loooooong fall in shadows and rocks. However, the temporary human is confident he can make it to the ground. Honestly, what choice does he have? InuYasha swings a leg over the railing, gets his precarious balance on a mini-ledge and swings the other. Carefully, he bends down to grab one of the stone spindles and lets his feet find purchase on the base below. His eyes at foot level, he sees Sesshomaru’s boots still in the stench cloud, but he just steels himself for the climb and begins the descent.

~~~~
Yao Xin pauses at the rank odor floating down the hall from the family wing of the castle. After the first lung-full, he wants to gag. The advisor is sitting comfortably at the servants’ game room just beyond the grand staircase with the royal rooms at the far end of the same floor (an old maneuver by the royalty—to hide their scent and personal rooms from invaders or unwanted visitors). He had removed his armor and formal garments in preparation for bed. Yet, knowing him, a game of Go and a stiff flask of sake would be just what the healer ordered to send him off to a nice, dreamless sleep. Of course, something unforeseen would just suddenly strike out of no where while he has no weapons and feels like a woman in a sleeping yukata. Of course, the damn Northern bastards would dare to invade the castle of the West.

Xin’s hand pulls back from the tile he was about to move. The game, as far as he is concerned, is on pause. The advisor looks up at the resident healer across the board, “what in the Seven hells...?”

The fox healer also looks up from the game as he finally gets a whiff of the horrific stench, “Damn Xin, what the hell have you been eating lately?” It had apparently taken the fox’s weak senses a little longer to scent the utter foulness.

Yao Xin’s eyes narrow and he strokes his fu Manchu out of habit, “That’s not me, fool,” he curses lightly. “I fear our mighty sovereign might be having some issues.”

Armor clangs from the main staircase, and both men watch as armed soldiers nearly fly past the door. Iron and steel glint in the torch light. Both men can guess where the handful of demons is heading.

“Fool? I was killing dogs before you were spawned, foreigner,” the old fox replies in mock severity, tail whipping back and forth as he tries to scent something associated with the stench other than vomit. “Are we being invaded by rotting meet and skunks’ asses?”

Yao Xin sighs, Little Brother Plan A seems not to be going well. “Keep the sake warm Shin, it seems—“

“The hell I will,” the fox replies; he is already standing, moving across the room with his tails bobbing in his wake. “Our Lord might be killing someone by now. Can’t miss that, can I? It’s always so entertaining to watch the lord use that poison whip.” This last spoken as the fox heads out the door first.

Xin, mouth agape, glances back at the board, moves his piece, takes one of the fox’s tiles, and hurries after him.
~~~
The Lord of the West allows himself a moment to calm while holding his breath in the stink cloud. However, the damage has already been done; his sense of smell drives his brain into an overdrive of pain. Too many different, disgusting aromas for his brain to differentiate—even the mild scent of the humans that gathered such abominations in one small pellet lingers in his brain. Too many to interpret; he must give his younger brother a point. The attack is somewhat effective and explains how the whelp survived his human night all these years (especially the nights Sesshomaru was not able to watch over him).

His tail rises and swipes to and fro quickly to dissipate the worst of the cloud (so he can at least see if not scent). His vision clears of smog, and the incense slightly permeates the rancid odor. The demon lord takes a single, shallow breath and holds it again—scanning for his human sibling with eyes rather than nose. As he expects, the younger is not visible but probably hiding in the shadows since the demon lord’s most powerful sense is hindered. The lord’s stony face moves slightly in displeasure. Repay a debt; fight for father’s legacy as payment for his life—something their father did unselfishly, out of love for both mother and son.

InuYasha would continue to protect tamed demons, prejudice humans, the weaklings that hated hanyous, but would not fight at the side of his brother? After all this Sesshomaru has gone through for that cur—given up two hundred years, put his honor and the honor of their family on the line, fought for his freedom, given up an arm, given up pride, given consideration and—of all things—worry. All for the half breed. And this—his repayment in kind.

He already realizes how close he is to losing control; his hands and feet are now tingling in anticipation of paws. He focuses on calming down again—I am like ripples in the water, I am like the wind flowing through the sakura blossoms...

Images of his own trial interject into calming mental scenes; he recalls his own suspicion and denial of his father’s seemingly honorable intentions at the close of his own Great Trial (a half smirk lifts the corners of his mouth as, in this same room, four hundred years in the past, he had been on the verge of murder). Trust is never easy to gain—impossible once it has been broken. Of course his brother would be no different, or even more suspicious after two centuries of his own trials and tribulations. Betrayal, deceit, and loss had haunted the youth around every corner and in the gleam of every eye.

Damn. He has reverted to his old ways automatically. Perhaps this Sesshomaru, as much as InuYasha, would have to adjust to the change. Briefly, as he strides around the room to check hiding places, Sesshomaru wonders if Touga, the Inu no Taisho had found himself also attempting to rein in long-honed reactions—had his father come close to striking out at Sesshomaru out of habit? Did he fight with himself and his ingrained instinctual responses to draw the blood of his son? Had he simply been able to put all the past pain and bloodshed go?

Huffing breath.
Pounding feet.
Clinking armor.

The demon lord moves to the main door before his men even reach it—opens it himself with extreme displeasure radiating. The soldiers—an assortment of bi-ped, half-animal, and full animal forms—take position in the hallway, weapons at the ready. The form two lines, the first dropping to their knees in lunging position to have the first attack.

“My Lord!” The lizard on the end calls in question, waiting for him to move for the target to show itself and the attack to begin.

Sesshomaru’s aura calms down an iota. “This is not an attack. An intruder is not in my chambers. Return to your posts.” His deadly calm tone bodes ill for anyone not listening; the poison dripping from his claws is a deterrent for any that wish to keep body parts in tact.

In their wake, Yao Xin and Kenshin, resident fox healer, wait for the hallway to clear out and their Lord to acknowledge them. He does not even raise an eyebrow in their direction but turns to let his poison work at taking care of the still-lingering scent before the whole standing army makes its way to his private door. The lord may not have nodded to them, but he leaves the door open and both take it as an invitation to enter.

Kenshin, shorter and just as broad as the elemental demon, is no young kit. His hair and tails are streaked with gray and white, blood and bone, that show his age. He is a squarely built fox, very different than normal willowy, thin-boned fox structures. His face is broad with squared jaw painted by red and white markings...and three claw-mark scars splitting from above his eyebrow to mid-cheek. The yellowish eye is left unscathed.

“Milord? Do you require medical attention?” The fox asks, unimpressed with the scorching aura surrounding the dog lord—irritation and...fear? concern? In matters of health and safety, Kenshin throws the rules of decorum to the figurative wolves. He matches Sesshomaru’s path around the sitting room, wondering what the hell is lord is looking for.

“Do not be ridiculous,” the lord snaps, “this Sesshomaru can not be harmed by such a pitiful attack.” The golden eyes are still seeking nooks and shadowy corners around the scroll shelf, under his desk.

“And Lord—ahem—Master InuYasha?” Xin counters, earning a look from the fox. The foreigner has a moment of supremacy—he knew about the younger brother’s return.

“Shin, how are your skills with humans?” The lord answers with a question.

“I am well-versed in demon and human anatomy sire! Same basic parts, human are just a bit more squishy on the outside is all.”

“Excellent,” the demon lord replies absent while Xin coughs to cover up a snicker.

A noise draws Sesshomaru’s attention—the creak of the balcony doors. Surely he would not have attempted...not from thousands of feet....on the moonless night...it’s suicide.

Leaving his two most trusted advisors in his study, he is outside on the balcony in a heartbeat, leaning over the railing to scan for a flash of red. The air outside is cleaner, clearer, and the wind is in his favor. The crisp night breeze and softly falling snow clears his aching head; the demon lord snorts to rid himself of the previous residue. He takes in a cleansing breath.

Hn. There you are, little brother. Quite a fearless if not foolhardy move.

Sixty hands below, the light scent of human, blood, sweat, and adrenaline. His brother has climbed at a wicked pace for a his transformed body, trying to hold onto stone without claws. Even better—the soldiers at ground level patrolling the main bridge to the castle have apparently also spotted the climbing hanyou—not clearly—but with assumption of an intruder attempting to penetrate the family wing.

Less than a few seconds after he has leaned over the balcony, flaming arrows sail through the dark night and light up the shadows around InuYasha. Stony-faced, Sesshomaru’s chest tightens as two come mortally close to the human’s right hand and could have caused a catstrophe. Sesshomaru’s youkai burst, a wave of painful vibration leaves him in a tidal wave, rippling out in all directions. The men behind him back away as his power makes their teeth chatter and knees weak in the need to submit to this powerful Alpha. The Ki cloud forms under his feet as the backlash becomes absolute: military, servants, and guests all over the castle kneel and bare their throats. The arrows stop as the soldiers on the ground submit, throwing down swords, axes, wicked curved blades, and other weaponry.

On his cloud, Sesshomaru throws his head back, draws in a deep breath, and lets loose a howl that would make the hair of every man, woman, and child for twenty miles stand on end. The throaty call is an order for all those under his rule to stand the fuck down.

Order restored, his cloud descends. InuYasha is the only one still moving—the only one that has not submitted. The human is still far from the ground, blood on his fingers and feet from the rough, rocky exterior. One mis-step, one slip, would be the end of him. How the boy has managed to cling to the carved stone is beyond the lord, who has always had claws for ripping, tearing, climbing, and basically surviving. His brother has no means of defense, only his wits and cunning. This truth makes the demon lord feel pangs of something akin to guilt for the initial attack.

Hovering in mid-air, he prepares to swallow his pride...for the second time in his entire life.

“Now why the hell didn’t you just let ‘em kill me,” the huffing human doesn’t bother to pause even though he can feel Sesshomaru’s aura at his back. “It woulda saved your lordly ass from getting tainted blood all over that pristine get-up.”

He isn’t going to let his fear of falling, his fear of dying, or his fear of being alone be sniffed out by the bastard. It is bad enough Sesshomaru can probably tell his human body is starting to wear down; arms are aching, teeth chattering, hands bleeding, legs trembling—all in the strain to keep himself from falling, to keep clinging to the intricately carved seam running the length of the castle. Actually, focusing on the climb has cleared his head a bit—given the human a little bit of perspective. Should he keep his pride and fight for his life? And the human voice, the emotionally weaker side of his personality, is strong this night out of the month—the one that wanted to just lay down and die after his mother passed. It whispers insidiously, Who would be there to wait up, to welcome him home? What’s the purpose behind it all anyway?Why not take the easy way and screw Sesshomaru out of killing him?

“You offended me,” the demon lord replies mildly, “I am unused to anyone refusing me. I reacted out of anger and dishonorably attacked you.”

The human doesn’t even pause or look at the demon lord in his descent, but Sesshomaru keeps pace with him. “Angry, huh? Did you strain something admitting to that you frigid asshole?”

The other lets out an imperceptible sigh, one the human’s ears do not catch. “No, this Sesshomaru strained nothing. Anger is not an emotion this lord finds useful or constructive since it does not feed his people when they starve, save them when attacked, or keep them from destitution. Thus, it is...instinctual to act violently when angered.” Bloody fingers leave a mark on the stone.

“Responsibilities of the honorable ruler,” the hanyou sneers as he lowers himself on a tiny ledge just big enough for him to balance on the front of his feet, “y’ know what? If you can’t get angry over your people that are getting attacked by demons and bandits but you can get pissy over something I, the cur of the family, said, then you might be a pretty shitty ruler. See, power comes with responsibility. Haven’t you figured that out, yet?”

More than you shall ever know, little brother

“I have known this since the day you were born, and I had to become Lord of the West at three hundred and fifty years old.” The tone is bland, but something about what Sesshomaru said makes the younger brother pause in his climb. “Which is why I ask for your aid, InuYasha.”

“And I said I would damn well fight!” The human snarls between breaths, surprised he actually gets away with criticizing his elder brother. “Give me a fucking time and place and I’ll be there. But, I won’t fight beside you. Gee, remember Sou’ung? Remember fighting back-to-back against those dead fuckers? What did you do, Sesshomaru? Use my attack to clear your way and leave me surrounded. Remember fighting Naraku?! You were right beside me when those tentacle-things went through me. Could you have bent your arm just a little to cut it off? No. And it always happens that way. You screw me, you get me hurt, or you get in my way.”

“Or you get in mine,” the demon lord comes back mildly, “it is a mutual problem with two combatants that do not often fight together against a common enemy.” The night air snarls his hair in the same way as it had the night when he put The Great Trial aside to help his brother overcome their father’s deadliest weapon.

You’re in my way!

The night stands between the two brothers, Sesshomaru hovering on his cloud and InuYasha standing on the little ledge with mere centimeters between him and death. “Look,” the human’s soft voice is carried to his brother by the wind, “this is crazy. Why don’t you just wait until my strength gives out, I fall, and you can just take the sonofbitchin’ sword if killing me like this offends your hoity-toity honor somehow. You have demon magic—you can find a way around the fricking barrier. But this—this bullshit is beneath us both.”

The lord sighs and the headache pulses back to life, “I do not know how many times I must repeat myself, hanyou, but once more—this is not about the fang!”

InuYasha actually laughs, a twisted mockery of humor that holds no mirth but years of pent-up bitterness and betrayal; the sound sets off warning bells in the lord’s achy head. There is a hysterical pitch to the sound that is so off that it actually worries the demon lord. Unconsciously, his little cloud inches closer.

“You save me to try to kill me. You want to use me for the power of the my only possession in this world when I’ve got nothing, have had nothing for most of my life.” Another of these dangerously contorted laughs. “What else is there for me? Not you, not family, not Kagome, not Kikyo, not jewel, not even fucking Naraku...what the fuck is left for me but lies?!”

The human turns on his tiny ledge, and Sesshomaru can finally scent well enough to discern despair. Bloody fingertips release the carvings—his balance precarious as they stare at one another from less than six feet apart and only the wind between them.

“A war? A fight? You want the stain in your bloodline, the miserable, filthy cur to help you? I’m weak and pathetic and tainted—remember?” For the first time since the battle of his life ended and Kagome left him, the inuhanyou feels like he is thinking clearly. The dark abyss he has been staring into these last five years has been countless centuries of loneliness and anguish looming before him. Hanyous could live as long as demons if they survived that long—but who would want to live so long alone without the warmth of others to share one’s life? What’s the point? And why give the most important decision of his life over the cold bastard he hates anyway?

“Do you honestly believe this, InuYasha?” The demon lord finally asks with the same gentled tone from their journey to this massive castle. “Do you believe you would have ever been able to wield the Tetsuaiga had you not been worthy of it, had you not been strong enough to handle it?”

Violet eyes, raw with old hurts, just watch.

“For some time, this Sesshomaru has watched you grow into power, learn control, master yourself and adapt to your surroundings. You have selflessly given your blood and strength to protect those that are weaker...You have proven much in the last few years.”

Not yet, the demon lord realizes after seeing the layers of buried emotions under the sheen of violet eyes; this human night finally allows the older sibling to see the debts of pain the younger covers with brash boldness. Some of these old wounds must be dealt with. His sense of smell has returned in force, and he understands now that his little brother is a hairsbreadth away from madness—the recognition of all the signs comes just in time. Where has the former fire gone? Why has his brother not fought back with a vengeance? Where is the extended oration of profanity and insults? This adversely different version of InuYasha (combined with his body language, his eyes, and his scent) indicate that his younger brother has reached some limit of tolerance for the world that shows him little else but tragedy.

The human is obviously read to step off the ledge at the slightest provocation.

“This Sesshomaru has many regrets in his life InuYasha, I have many regrets,” he does not hesitate to admit this personal flaw, nor does he choke on these bitter words. The chip in his exterior widens to a small gap. The demon lord cannot let his mask keep him from his brother any longer; his honor is not worth InuYasha’s life. “Many, many regrets when it comes to you—“ that I could not protect you, that I could not save you from this burden—“Yet, I have not tried to kill you, honestly tried, in four years, little brother. However—indifference is sometimes worse than conflict.”

The human’s eyes slide from his brother’s stony face and back to the ground—gauging everything.

“This Sesshomaru should have come for you long before now. But, my enemies have been closing in for some time. They lie in wait near the borders of this land in the sea, and I can no longer ignore them. Thus, I have not come for you until now.”

The cold is settling in the human’s very bones yet again; the demon lord can see this without looking too closely. The lips are no longer slightly pink but tinted blue yet again. He wants to get the boy out of this wind and reaches out a striped hand. “You will freeze if we stay out longer. Come and I will tell you the situation as I know it.”

The human’s violet eyes harden, “How do I know all this is true?” The scratchy voice is accompanied by the coppery scent of blood, left over from the strain the demon lord had put on the windpipe. “You’re talking around something, you bastard. There’s no way you would changed two hundred years worth of hate this fast, so why don’t you tell me what is really going on here?”

The demon lords sighs, “there is much happening—“

“What aren’t you telling me? This is about more than impending war, Sesshomaru.”

“Indeed, it is, little brother. However, as I said, now is not the time. Soon though, I will be able to tell you the whole story.”

The swaying human remains silent, distrusting. His balance is precarious on the ledge.

“You have no reason to believe or to trust in me. That is understandable.” He pauses, the politician section of his brain works frantically to come up with some sort of acceptable answer, an agreeable compromise.

“You know what?” InuYasha’s violet eyes are a frighteningly dazed, glassy. “It’s kinda funny, Sesshomaru, ‘cause in the end—it don’t matter, the ‘why’s’ and the ‘what for’s’. It’s always gonna come down to I’m a half-breed. You might need me for a fight, but it’ll go back to hatin’ me once it’s over. I’ll be tainted and honorless and a fuck-up. I’ll die at your hands someday. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but eventually you’ll get a bug up your ass and finally do the deed. Nothing I can do about it. But, there’s one thing I can keep, somethin’ even you can’t take.” The flash of white in the night is a grim smile of determination. “My death. I can choose the way I want to die, and you can go fuck yourself.” One final laugh, and hie weight pitches forward. Open space greets the human and gravity pulls him to death.

Sesshomaru doesn’t take a second to think or be shocked at the abrupt maneuver but dives from his cloud to follow the plummeting human form through the frigid night. Dawn is still hours away, the human would not survive the fall, and the demon lord could not, would not allow his brother to die just when he could finally have him back again. Loosing InuYasha at this juncture is simply unacceptable.

Freezing wind rushes by the human, and he cannot help but embrace the feeling of utter freedom as the ground rushes closer. In the flight, he feels like he has regained some of his pride and honor. The frigid air screams past him, taking his fear of dying with it. Not once in the last five years has he felt this—not fighting to save humans, demons, or children, nor while wandering the open lands. He won’t feel this in a war with Sesshomaru’s enemies; he won’t feel it in the next one hundred years of useless protection of humans that hate and despise him (ones that cannot even talk to him like a living being). He can finally stop all the pointless, meaningless living. Sure, he wanted to give Sesshomaru the final fight; he wanted to go out in a blaze of glory—to prove he was at least part of the great Inu no Taisho’s bloodline with some achievements. Yet, if Sesshomaru is just telling him what he wants to hear, rambling off some bullshit, then even that goal is pointless. His human blood would always color everything he tried to do. Proved your worth regardless of your human blood, my ass.

His humanity, the weakness in his blood, is going to be splattered all over the ground. The loneliness, the aimlessness of his existence is the same searing pain in his soul that started after his mother died will not be his future. If there is nothing of his own to protect, nothing of his own to fight for, then right here and right now he will make the choice to end it. Sesshomaru or those other bastard demons won’t choose for him. Final epic battle be damned: fuck that asshole. I’ll choose my own fate!

Let Sesshomaru use the fucking Wind Scar himself to win his war.

On the ground, the thirty or so soldiers scramble, yell to one another. The falling red blur of the intruder is obviously the culprit trying to escape the Lord’s wrath!! Either that or the falling intruder is gearing up for some sort of aerial attack: a huge blast of demonic Ki, an explosive wave of power, or a menagerie of weapons flying from the falling figure. Something completely unexpected. The soldiers have seen multiple types of attacks and knew to prepare for anything.

The master of the third shift gate guards yells orders the second that blur must have jumped over the edge. In full armor, twenty demons scramble to separate corners of the front. The weapons hut is raided for extra quivers of arrows and shields. Metal clanging fills the air as ten arches hit one knee with bows drawn back, tense, ready to let fly. Another soldier darts from archer to archer with a torch to light the flaming projectiles. They wait the signal in order to avoid hitting Lord Sesshomaru.

The demon lord notices his men readying for an attack and puts on a burst of speed to catch up to his falling brother, the ground is still thousands of feet from them—not far when combined with gravity. At this speed, his brother will hit in mere moments and die. Fear, bitter on his tongue, alarms the demon lord fleetingly while his mind works on how to get to the human in time to avoid catastrophe. His tail unconsciously shoots out to cup the human while his arms curl around InuYasha’s chest and abdomen. The human’s face drowns in fluff, his back presses against muscle and metal: he is surrounded in demon lord. Yet, the cold air no longer seems to take his spirit with it. The bastard’s hold snaps him fully aware of his suicide move.

The demon lord pulls up sharply as the ground comes into deadly distance. His heart actually hammers a little faster when the underside of his tail protecting the hanyou scrapes the ground. His tail smarts but he is not certain whether or not the human felt the near disaster. Humans break so much easier than the hanyou... regardless, the healer is in his quarters anyway. He does not waste time landing or calling to the master of arms, but merely uses the momentum to drive them back skyward in an arch to climb the palace front back to his suite of rooms.

The human’s heart is pounding so hard against Sesshomaru’s forearms that he wonders if it will burst out of his brother’s chest. The body quivers, spasms in natural reaction to the excitement and possibility of a high-speed death, and the lungs creak with shuddering breaths. Neither speak—InuYasha couldn’t and Sesshomaru does not want to make the situation even worse...or perhaps make his brother try jumping from his hold to attempt ending his life a second time.

Yao Xin and Kenshin watch from the balcony as the two Lords of the West make one hell of an entrance. The head general of the ground troops, Matsu Shikazu, and three infantry men wait with weapons at the ready behind the two head advisors. Well, excellent. Why haven’t the gossiping chambermaids shown up as well?

“Out!” The demon lord snarls, not unwrapping his human little brother. He keeps the scent trapped in his tail. “Everyone except Yao Xin and Kenshin. Nothing is amiss. Order the men to stand down immediately.”

Matsu and his men bow low as they back out of the lord’s chamber and close the door behind them without question. Absentee lord or not, they rightly fear his wrath.

Sometime, it is good to be the King.

Slowly, Sesshomaru removes his tail and arms from his little brother, sniffing carefully for any wounds or blood other than his superficial feet and fingers. He turns InuYasha in his embrace and looks down at the face covered by long bangs, ignoring the two demons waiting for his acknowledgement.

The stinging in his tail will heal in mere moments, but reinforces how close the younger came to his final death; considering how finicky Tensaiga can be, Sesshomaru has no guarantee that he could bring InuYasha back from the final death. The lord’s long fingers cup InuYasha’s chin in hand, and more gently than the human can image happening, his face is turned upward to meet his brother’s golden gaze. The stark difference he sees there is the last thing he expects; the expression is neutral, but even in the dim with human vision, InuYasha can see something churning in his cold brother’s eyes...

“Sesshomaru?” The voice still cracks a bit, whispering out between blue lips.

“Nothing,” his brother’s tone is soft, trembling slightly for some strange reason the human’s ear can catch but his brain cannot fathom, “nothing like that will happen again. This Sesshomaru will not allow his blood kin to die until the fates have deemed it to be time. I do this not because of the sword, not because of war, but because you are the beloved son of my father.” The lord’s arm shoots out to wrap around the shocked human once again. The human is pulled tightly to his brother’s chest.

What the fuck is wrong with him? Gods in hell, this can’t fucking be Sesshomaru! “What in the seven hells has gotten into you?” The human demands roughly, hands braced against the bone and metal of Sesshomaru’s armor.

The Lord pulls his head back to put them inches apart, noses almost touching. “You!” is snarled in reply while clawed hands wrap around the human’s skinny wrists to hold InuYasha in place, facing the demon that has haunted his nightmares for the majority of his life.

More shocking—the frigid lord drops the royal third person.

“I have made mistakes, little brother, and have said as much when I brought you home to the West. I am a demon, InuYasha, not a god that always knows the right course of action to take. I am a Lord and an assassin for my people. Thus I will change this unacceptable behavior toward you, but you must also put a little faith in what I say. I desire you to stand at my side. Not for the power of Tetsuaiga, not for the glory of our kingdom, or even the safety of those under my rule. But for you, my only blood, to stand with me as I have stood with you.”

Shock. InuYasha is so numb to everything yet again, “and I repeat: How do I know I can trust you?!” He pulls back a little, the length of his arms, just to give himself room to take a breath and lifts his chin to show the bruising around his throat.

“You may believe in this Sesshomaru because I will give you the most sacred of our vows,” the stone-faced lord proclaims. He pulls his brother back with a tug to both wrists, lowers his head, and lays his lips directly on InuYasha’s mouth.

A/N: Thanks for reading.
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The Great Trial