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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
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V: Acceptance

Shock. Doesn’t. Even. Begin. To. Cover. It.

The slayer of Naraku, the mighty hanyou warrior, the wielder of Tetsuaiga, has only been kissed on the mouth twice in his life. Both times, a female did the kissing, not his psychopathic older brother. The pain in his fingertips and feet, the cold in his bones, and even the aches in his human muscles all fade (some of the pain gone when Sesshomaru’s face twisted into something unrecognizable...vulnerable? Scared? Worried?) when the demon lord’s head dipped and warmth graced the human’s mouth.

InuYasha wants to move the second he feels himself trapped against the stronger male, yet the hold allows him no room to dart away, and he can’t really move back. His older brother’s head tilts at an angle, fitting their mouths more completely together.

Initial reaction: get the hell away before his lips melt away or the bastard comes to his senses. But, as a human, he can’t even move from the weird-ass embrace. So, he remains frozen in several kinds of shock: preparing for the jagged bite of teeth; tensing for the hands to crush the bones in his wrists; waiting for the hilt of Tetsuaiga to vanish...any number of actions that would indicate Sesshomaru is planning to make him suffer instead of being a somewhat tolerable asshole and just killing him outright. The hanyou had never experienced such intimacy or closeness to icy sibling and is floundering in what might happen next. The anticipation beats against his skin.

For the love of the Gods, is he trying to poison me? Acidic doggie drool of death?

Long moments, readying himself for pain and death.

No burn. Just a press and the slight wetness of a tongue passing over his lips. The human’s eyes widen for an instant and then fall half-closed with relief at the lack of violence. Sesshomaru...? The gesture touches something inside the temporarily demon-bereft, some instinct begins to warm his chest at the motion; there is something oddly familiar and not familiar about this moment. The tiniest shred of hope breaks through the younger one’s harsh exterior, and he cannot (for the life of him) explain why this closeness is enough to change the previous 200 years of hate.

Yet, regardless of his instinctual distrust, the hanyou has vague optimism that Sesshomaru might not be fucking around with him. Lord Royal Asswipe is actually carrying out the Declaration Ritual of the ancient Inu demons. A ritual used only between loved ones, close kin, friends, or mates to admit fault or guilt. It was one of the few things InuYasha actually knew about his own people on the demon side.

Myoga-jiji had once described some practices and customs of the inu to explain why he possessed certain instincts and desires. With his mother deceased all these years, Myoga was the only one that could give the young hanyou answers about his nature that he desperately sought—especially wants he had felt before he met Kikyo and was pinned to Goshinboku... There were these cravings he had once had that (for some weird reason) centered on Sesshomaru, the demon that despised him, hunted him, and hated him. Craving that he spent years cursing himself for having. What kind of weak fuck did he have to be to still want some kind of...well, acceptance or at least acknowledgement from that pox-ridden son of a mangy bitch. It was something he couldn’t fathom; a separation of brain and inner feeling. It made him so angry at times when they faced each other for a fight, fueling his attacks with his own inner turmoil. The hanyou kept his exterior emotions as full of hatred and disdain for Sesshomaru as his fucked-up brother had for him. But, the inner demonic instincts had made a small part of him long for a kind word—that’s all, one fucking nice thing.

No dice. Not from that frigid pure blood.

Some of his physical instincts could simply be explained by his inu heritage (the scratching, shaking off water, even chasing rabbits in his sleep—all dog-like habits). However, some of his yearnings were confusing and frightening, especially when he forced himself to suppress his urges when around human or close to other demons. Growing up human had taught him what things were at the limits of ‘acceptable’ and what things were ‘strange’ and thus reasons for fear and ridicule.

Either that, or some of his “strange” behaviors would draw unwanted attention to himself. His intense desire to throw back his head and simply howl was one such unexplainable impulse he had been able to quell—since his childhood consisted of mastering stealth and silence for survival. Besides, howling only brought other demons at him by showing weakness since he had no family or clan to answer his calls. Moreover, unlike other demons, his inner youkai had never spoken to him or been a voice in the back of his head explaining the instincts. The loner had no one to question and desperately wanted an explanation.

For the majority of his long life, he had wanted to understand the powerful needs hovering in his psyche, seemingly a part of his blood. However, even though the hanyou had traveled extensively through the Western Lands in his youth, he had never even seen another Inu besides Sesshomaru, there was no one else for him to question. Myoga-jiji was the only consistency in his life (even with all the running and hiding), and the only one other than Sesshomaru that could tell him the truths about his legendary father.

My Lord, the Inu (especially the Shiro Inu demon) have many complex formalities and other more intimate traditions that are practiced only with close family.

Your desire to howl is a normal response to loneliness, fear, or danger. It is the instinct to call others of your clan to your aid; it is not something your intellect must do or consciously understand, it is simply something your demon side—your animal side if you will—expects you to do.

These instincts are not necessary logical, milord, but are products of centuries of natural responses in your blood. These impulses are not wrong just because humans do not have them or fear them, it is a natural part of your character, sire. Just like when you respond to a blow with one of your own. They are reactions to your emotions or actions. Some inu reactions are ritualized, when one is hurt, another will lick the wound to aid in the healing process. Another such example is the Rite of Declaration, one such tradition between kin.

Declaration of what exactly, Jiji?

Well, Lord InuYasha, this rite is crucial when family or other as close as kin come into some dispute or conflict, especially if honor has been offended, or if one has harmed another. The rite is a formal pronouncement of fault and request for forgiveness from one relation to another. In this tradition, the injurer does not protect himself or herself and puts aside pride to admit fault and ask to be pardoned.   It is a ritual based solely on touch, very personal touch, one that is carried out without words—but rather with instincts, sire.

Whoa, jiji. “Personal touch?” Between family members? You’re not trying to say...

My Lord! Living with humans has certain made you quite prudish for a male, hasn’t *SQUISH* ugh *floating to the ground* my lord is sooooo cruel *watery eyes and rivers of tears*

Watch it, jiji. I ain’t being all girly or anything. Human incest has gross results... You don’t know what happens to the pups when blood mixes with blood.

*The flea sits in front of his master and bring out his small pipe to puff* Ugh,but this is not the case with demons, milord. Humans and demons are not the same type of creatures even though some demons may take a human or bi-ped form to fit into human society or for ease of travel. Demons do not have the same constructions or weaknesses of human beings. Mixing the same blood in human is certain to produce deformities since human blood of the same line weakens the blood further—and even though this is common with humans, the royalty will still sometimes arrange marriages between kin. Sometimes the results are grotesque, sometimes not. In most cases, however, the weaker of blood, the weaker the offspring, milord.

However, demons are far different, sire. When a demonic bloodline compounds, the result is twice as potent. And so, combining the same line only amplifies an offspring’s power two-fold! As a matter of fact, it is common for siblings to mate and produce heirs, more powerful heirs. The great master, your father, was the product of two male siblings— an Alpha and a Beta—thus, his immense strength and prowess in battle was unmatched!

Keh. My human blood just dilutes his power anyway. I can hold my own, so that’s enough for me.

Milord, you won’t figure out if you are an Alpha or a Beta until your first Heat. Most demons hit their first time around one hundred and fifty human years old.

But that’s demons, and I’m a hanyou so I don’t know if I’ll ever even... Well, what if I don’t go into Heat? What then, jiji? Won’t I be able to mate at all? I’ve never met a hanyou that’s survived to the first Heat.

*The old flea seems to contemplate the questions*...Then, perhaps the human side of you will not determine you an Alpha or a Beta in demon terms. You will simply carry the scent of your father and not of your stature. Perhaps, due to your half-blood, you may come into heat later than full demons.

Keh. We’ll have to see...but this Declaration ritual, jiji ...it’s about s-sex then?

No, sire, not at all. The ceremony is about admitting fault and re-establishing a connection. Ones that are not very close and loving to the injured party wouldn’t bother with the ritual and merely apologize verbally for wrongdoings; to expose oneself or to show vulnerability is difficult for any demon—especially in matters of pride or honor (as you know this from your own experiences, Lord InuYasha). Yet, the ritual is conducted by those family members that might consider mating a blood relation or those that have grown up in the same pack and want to show genuine admission of guilt... Perhaps someday, should your brother, Lord Sesshomaru realize he has been remiss in his treatment of you, this ritual will be his best way of showing you his guilt and atonement.

Keh. Sesshomaru? Lord Ice-Cube-Up-My-Ass? I’d have better luck getting Mother’s relatives to apologize, Jiji.

One never knows, milord. However, the feelings you say you have experienced are quite natural for a shiro inu-youkai, even one with human blood such as yourself. You are prone to have the instincts and desires of a demon as well as the emotions and compassion of humans. It is simply in your temperament. You may not wish other to know, but you are a young inu starved for some sympathy and kindness—the things humans need and demons require—have been denied you. It is only natural you would want these things from you kinsmen.

...But, Jiji. Sesshomaru has hated me since I can remember. How—grrrr.

Ask, my lord, I will tell you if I know the answer.

Nevermind! It ain’t important anyhow.

Ah, I see, sire. You are angry because you know your lord brother hates you, yet you still want his acceptance and acknowledgement. That is not unusual or unreasonable for any inu, Lord InuYasha. Naturally, Inus are especially family-oriented of all demon sects—compounded with your royal blood and your want of acceptance is understandable. Your great father was no different. He adored Lord Sesshomaru and gave his life so that you would live.

But...It makes me an idiot, Myoga. I know by now my brother will never accept me and probably kill me one day. I know that for a fact. If some other asshole demon doesn’t get me, Sesshomaru eventually will. I’m the tainted bastard staining the bloodline.

This animosity is true, sire. Yet, your instincts do not yield to logic. Your instincts, even if you are under Lord Sesshomaru’s sword, will still want closeness to him as your only remaining family. There is no denying your nature.

...Then my instincts make me weaker than my human blood. My instincts will get me killed by that bastard...

And, just as he once predicted, here he is—defenseless as he can fucking get. Human blood, it is.

The bonding rituals of the Shiro Inu are all intimate acts of affection and tenderness: embracing one another, kissing and licking in a similar fashion to pups, transferring scents to one another, nuzzling and assurances safety and warmth—all the things he had learned to scorn because he’d never have it (at least, he thought so until he’d met Kikyo...and later, Kagome). But all marks made familia distinction. Sesshomaru’s saliva on his mouth, Sesshomaru’s scent on his clothing, all of it marked the InuYasha as the younger brother. More disturbing, with this act, his brother is acting like a real brother for the second time in the hanyou’s life. To have Sesshomaru touch him, really touch him after years of beatings, burnings, and bloodshed is almost too much for the lost and forlorn human to abide. He doesn’t even move to strike out, and closes his eyes to hide the burning while the scent of demon lord and palpable press of Alpha aura clog up his weakned thoughts and senses.

The demon lord is actually lowering himself to touch the taint of their bloodline, nonetheless kissing him in the way of the affectionate Shiro Inu goes further in soothing InuYasha’s hackles.

Half human he might be (even human at the moment), InuYasha has the instincts of a full-blood InuShiro demon. Perhaps that is why he has always gotten a twinge when Sesshomaru would call him “little brother” rather than “cur” or “half-breed.” Some part of him—regardless of his attempt to squelsh them—still wanted to be part of a family, a blood-pack, regardless of how many times kin had beaten him, degraded him, or despised him. Inus needed family, thrived on close ties, and InuYasha has learned that his instincts are animalistic and reflections of what pure blood families felt for one another. Myoga-jiji gave him some of the basics, and he filled in the rest through experience.

Like now. In a small place deep in him, far from his physical body, a place in his spirit warms.

The wetness swipes over his lips again as the demon lord pulls back an inth, just enough to keep the barest of contact. Sesshomaru’s eyes are open, and he leans down to gently rub his cheek over his brother’s in a parody of a pup asking an adult for forgiveness. In doing so, he is allowing his brother access to several vulnerable points on his throat and chest as well as taking the blow to his pride.

The risks are inconsequential, for in this small gesture, the demon lord has gained more in simple touch than his great father gained in lands, power, and wealth. With his brother in his arms, close to his heart, the scent of family touches the youkai instincts deep within him as well. His agitation and impatience, the need to gain power enough to keep those under him safe, the constant depravity of joy in his soul (that which makes his mask of stone so much easier to maintain), all of it eases just a bit more from something so simple as this touch. Sesshomaru buries his nose in the soft hair right behind his brother’s human ear and sighes the smallest puff of breath. His jagged soul seems to finally have a reason to heal. Even if InuYasha strikes out at him with the dull sword or blunt little nails, the demon lord would not mind.

“This Sesshomaru declares his responsibility and wrongdoings against the youngest son of the Inu no Taisho—brother to this lord, weilder of the Tetsuaiga, InuYasha.” The human’s entire frame tightens, muscles clench at this admission. However, Sesshomaru will not allow him to pull away.

Rather, his arms tighten around the human, and he re-evaluates how to continue. What might this Sesshomaru say to assure the hanyou’s near-death does not happen again...?

“You are not prepared to forgive this Sesshomaru, it is asked of you anyway,” as the ritual demands. “It will take time, little brother. Give the necessary time to prove that this lord is not telling falsehoods. Stay. Stay here in the home of our great father for the remainder of the night, and make the journey to the battlefields.” The lord pulls back to look at his brother’s face, his own returned to an unreadable mask. His younger brother had already seen him too much out of normal character tonight. “Would this be agreeable?”

InuYasha’s expression, however, is enough to melt the lord’s heart. Through his brash and impetuous behavior, the never-give-up mentality, the human’s forlorn and confused look is so very out of place. The barely-there, salty scent is telling of how much InuYasha hurts, yet Sesshomaru cannot determine what is going on in the hanyou’s mind right now; he is aware humans are more emotional in nature than demons (and his brother as half-human is more emotional than most) but his human night might make his agreement easier to attain. After all, his brother would have never tried to voluntarily take his own life—to avoid the pain of life in the path of least resistance. That was simply not InuYasha’s way.

The human seems to shake himself and with a suddenly-angry jerk, wrenches back out of his brother’s embrace—apparently needing the space. His never-ending well of anger seems to overflow again, and that broken look is gone from the human’s face. InuYasha raises a clenched fist and bares his teeth to bite out:
“...Fine, asshole. I’ll stay tonight. Tomorrow, we go see who’s trying to invade the Western Lands.”

“...Will you consider believ—“

“Don’t push your luck,” the tone is harsh, still scratchy and half-hoarse. “You pulled off that ritual without choking or puking, so congrad-a-fuck-ulations. Doesn’t mean I’m buying into all this new, touchy-feely shit. I give my word that I’ll stay and help you slaughter some foreigners. Be happy I’m givin’ you that much.”

Nothing worth having is easy to attain, but the demon lord’s netural face is (for once) not reflected in his golden gazy, “Very well. Do as you like. The guest room shall be safe for this night.”

A cough in the corner surprises them both. The brothers have forgotten the two remaining demons in the room.

“Milord,” Shin bows at the waist, his face solemn in the torch light. “If I may? I scent blood in the air.”

InuYasha straightens noticeably, hand hovering over the hilt of Tetsuaiga. Fucking human senses! Goddam. Were these guys supposed to beat me if I fought against Sesshomaru?

“Ah, Shin...” Sesshomaru nods at his healer, thankful for the reprieve. “Little brother, this is our family’s healer, Kenshin. He has been an advisor and resident healer under our father.”

The fox bows low before the human, “Master InuYasha, I’m honored to meet you. I was good friends with your father and saw to your mother during her pregnancy. It is good to see you now, a grown and powerful young demon.”

Behind the fox, Yao Xin’s jaw drop with an audible noise. In all the time he has served the royal family with Shin, he has never heard the fox speak a full sentence with formal language. Hell, he’d hardly heard the fox utter a full sentence without profanity—not even when Sesshomaru retuned to the castle. The crass, blunt fox had no need of pretty speech before tonight.

However Shin, after only a few moments reading the young inu’s aura while in his brother’s embrace, understands more about the emotional and mental state of the temporary-human than Xin or even Lord Sesshomaru. His ability as a healer gives Kenshin sight that is beyond seers and sorceresses; his vision usually shows a cloudy film surrounding any that cross his path—the spectrum of faint colors waver depending on the depths and range of emotions and personality.

With this young hanyou, Shin witnesses a phenomena he’s never seen before, even during all his years on battlefields. The strength of the young one’s emotions is nearly solid color silhouetting his entire form. His youkai is frighteningly powerful, even trapped in a human shell, yet the weight of dejection, agony, loneliness are a tangible thing chaining the hanyou—not as apparent in his stance or even his eyes—but his aura cannot lie. Obviously, there is a desperate edge to him, and Shin is certain that little fall was not due to muscles giving out or a slip of his grip. This boy’s spirit is desperate; he is in more dire straights than the other outcasts the fox treated in all his years as soldier and healer. He would need to be treated with a gentle hand and consideration or Shin could run the risk of pushing the boy even closer to this abyss. Information about the younger lord’s past experiences needs to be a careful distraction once he gives the excuse of treating the superficial wounds with the real intent to show the boy some kindness.

InuYasha takes in the fox demon, from red and gray hair held up in a top knot between his pointed ears to the tips of his boots. The fox has not chosen a more human appearance as Shippo had, but maintains the facial features and snout of a fox. The scar over one side of his face and noticeable gray touch to his fur is more telling about his age. The human glances from his brother to the fox and gives the healer his characteristic, “Keh. Well, thanks, then, for treating my mother. Nice to meet you. Guess you know my name and all,” his hands automatically fold into his sleeves with a flicker at the demon lord: see, you fucker. My mother taught me proper manners!

“I’m okay, though, these scratches are nothin.’ It’ll be healed by morning.“ He puffs his chest without even noticing.

The fox gives a friendly grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners, “not life-threating, milord, to be sure. But, if Lord Sesshomaru would allow me use of his guest room, you could be a kind soul to ease this old demon’s mind and let me treat them anyway.” A glance at the demon lord gives him a nod of approval, “Besides, it will give my old friend here, Xin, to put back the Go tile he stole from me before we came up to see the goings on.” Behind him, Xin quirks a brow, stroking the long braid of his fu Manchu, wondering if the fox is serious. He won the piece fair and square.

The confused human simply shrugs a shoulder without asking and follows the fox’s gesturing hand to one of the three doors, which the human has seen nowhere else but Kagome’s house in the future. He pauses long enough to eye the strange contraption that he hasn’t seen in this era, and walks into the dimly lit room, treading carefully to avoid bumping into something in the dim light.

Behind him, Kenshin gives his lord a look, “Xin, would you have someone bring more of my supplies. I will need bandages and my special poultice for the young Master.”

“Nnh. Of course Shin,” flipping his fu, Yao nods and leans closer to the fox in the doorway, “and that damn tile is mine. It was my move anyway.” Irritated at being ordered like a common wench, Xin resist the urge to give a smug look in return.

The unshaked fox merely grins, “I’ve already got you, foreigner. Three moves! Tile or no tile.” before ducking into the lord’s private guest room and closing the door behind him.

Yao Xin huffs, much like a younger pup, and walks past his lord to give orders to one of the men standing in the family wing. Sesshomaru, however, stands with his stoic mask to hide the fact that he is still slightly shaken from his brother’s near demise and the weight of all the secrets he has been forced to keep.

Once the door closes, the Lord of the West lets out a single, long breath. Just like that, the scent of family is muted and his instincts ease. His desire to watch Shin treat InuYasha is replaced with the cold slap of duty—what he must do and what he cannot.

The demon lord sits heavily in front of the fire and gives himself a few moments to think—not even noticing Xin returning or sitting in the chair opposite of his own. Very absentee and almost, well, pitiful. Joking aside, Yao does feel sympathetic to his lord and Master InuYasha. Rather than give Sesshomaru advice or opinions, Yao Xin takes the glass decanter, a gift from one foreign nation or another, and pours his lord a much needed drink.
~~~
The guest room is pretty damn impressive in its own right. The fireplace casts shadows in the corners and dances off the walls. A foreign table and two raised chairs sit aginst the door probably leading onto its own balcony. First entry point to any demon that can fly or zip around in a frick yellow ball of light or have the handy ability to just appear out of thin fuckin’ air. Only two windows, though, and one more doorway that could possibly lead to a sitting room or private bath. Only servants from there. Stay back from the windows.   The floor is not covered in tatanmi, but instead has plush furs from fox, bear, and wolf. The bare stone between is, however, cold against his feet.

The human glances around at the huge futon on an elevated platform under a mural of a dog demon in true form baying at the half moon (which he guessed was Sesshomaru or their father). The room is not well lit enough for his eyes to fully make the identity out. Whichever it was, well, the dog had four legs; pre-Tetsuaiga stealing asshole or the old man. Either way, a stab of jealousy flares in his breast at the strength and power of a true, demon form—the power of the full bloods...

Fuck ‘em.

The strong voice in the back of his head whispers softly. As the healer speaks to someone, his eyes are drawn down. The futon itself looks to be softer than even the one in Kagome’s room, the one in he actually got to sleep on comfortably—one of the few moments in his life that he slept deep... The hanyou shakes all thought of Kagome out of his head, refusing to feel the stabs of pain in his chest at the thought of her. Besides, no futon anywhere in the Warring States Era could be as comfortable as that one that held her scent. This one, well, it looks comfier than any tree branch he’d ever laid in (which must have been the thousands) but it would never top Kagome’s.

The soft moment of nostalgia makes him twitch when the healer moves an his clothing swishes. The human’s instincts scream at him for turning his back on Sesshomaru and the older fox healer just out of common sense. Even with the fancy setting, the whole palace makes his hackles rise with the pressure of demon power and aura all around his weaker form. But, the fox is only closing the door.

“Please, Master InuYasha, sit and allow me to look you over.” The fox gestures to the table and chairs close to the balcony doors, giving the human an escape route should he need it. Kenshin knows how vulnerable and lost the human feels and is considerately giving him an instinctual bit of room. “Is there anything I can order for you, sire? Tea? Food? Sake?”

The human moves without giving the fox his back and sits facing the room, “I don’t need anything,” he replies in that scratchy tone. “I’ll change back at dawn, so I don’t need fixed up.” Besides, having his wounds bandaged is too reminiscent of Kagome and the old days. No one since she has tended him.

“Ah, so you are human just for the night, Master InuYasha?” The old fox eases himself down across from the human. “That is comforting to know. Yet, be that as it may, your fingers and feet are bleeding, your body has endured some severe stress and trauma from the climb and the fall...and your scent, sire, is very telling about your mental state.” The fox’s eyes are open and understanding, his tone gruff and soft, soothing.

“It’s fine. I’ve survived worse. Besides, we’re outta here once dawn hits; apparently, there’s a war about to start.” The human’s eyes become shrewd, “what do you know about this ‘invasion’?”

The healer glances over his shoulder at the closed door and leans closer, conspirator style. Automatically, the human does as well. “I know not much, Master InuYasha, for milord has kept confidence with his advisors, but if you allow me to dress your wounds, for appearances’ sake, then I will have an excuse to tell you what all I know and what I have heard.”

As wily as foxes are known, the healer—well over nine hundred and counting—is clever, crafty, and compassionate for all his dangerous appearance. Something about the malnourished prince tugs at his sense of ethics. From the rumors and stories (and gossip from the kitchen maids) he has heard about the second son of the Inu no Taisho, he knows the young man to be as strong and valiant as his kin (for how many can claim to have survived a fifty year enchantment, cast by a priestess of the highest caliber no less!). The young one has also suffered more than any other that has been exiled by his people, for the subtle layers of scent wafting off the half-demon makes even the fox’s natural distaste to rise—an underlying trace even humans would scent and react in accordance.

Something is off about this hanyou, and the healer can fain imagine how other prejudice demons and humans may have abused this prince that should still be a child.

A respectful knock on the door is his supplies, and Shin give the human a reassuring grin before retrieving his poultices and bandages from a pouting Xin.

“How badly is he injured?” Xin barely whispers, eyes darting to the seated demon lord behind him.

“Won’t know until I look,” the fox replies, “keep the lord busy.” He ducks back in the room and begins to set his supplies on the table.

The human sighs, looks out at the dark sky, “I’m tellin’ you, this ain’t necessary.”

“I assure you, Master InuYasha, it does indeed matter. The lord will expect to scent my special poultices and see bandages whether you are hurt badly or not. He’s a stubborn sort, as you well know. Sometimes he cannot say what he thinks but still expects everyone to understand.”

“Wouldn’t know, never much talk from him except how I’m a disgrace and a stain to our family’s name.” The human’s tone is matter-of-fact and to-the-point. His bitterness and pain over rejection is buried too deep for words or tone.

The powerful herbal scent wafts between them as Shin turns back to the young human, “perhaps everything is not as it seems, Master InuYasha. Appearances can be deceiving.” He reaches a clawed hand out for the human’s own. A momentary hesitation and the soft, human hand is held out for his inspection. The healer keeps himself from huffing at the bloody hands raw from stone, but merely dabs the torn tips with something that stings like a bitch.

“You know something I don’t, fox?” The human talks to keep himself from a wince.

“You are but a kit in comparison, master. I know a great deal of things you may not.” Shin places some small bandages around the lord’s sore hands and wraps each faster than any human doctor could. “But, nothing can hurt if you keep your mind open to multiple possibilities.”

The human huffs but doesn’t fight when Shin starts on the other hand. “Sesshomaru be damned, tell me what you know about this war.”

A fighter, eh? Probably doesn’t know what to do with himself otherwise, the fox remembers his own years in the line—a medic/warrior that wielded a sword for slaughter with one hand and the herbs and bandages with the other. Rather than continue hinting at Lord’s Sesshomaru’s sworn yet hated duty, he gingerly rubs his poltice on the scrapes. If the young master used fighting to deal with his life, then Shin would humor him.

“The northern raiders have long been a thorn in the side of this land. The advisor you met, Yao Xin, was once a raider to this land before your grandfather managed to convince him to stay on as one of his most trusted warriors and friends.”

“The guy with the long hair on his face and the funky armor?”

“That would be him,” Shin smiles, “he knows a great deal about the workings of the Northern demons since they are unlike our society. Their demons do not take after animals or take power of the animal as in this land, but are powerful in an entirely different way. Yao Xin is one just as this. He has no ‘true’ form as your father or brother, but his power is great regardless. To allow him keep his honor, Lord Sesshomaru has not forced forbidden secrets of his people but has used him to learn about their culture. Judging by confrontation past, it’s been clear we’re more civilized in fighting style and honor while the Northern raiders are only concerned with goods: food, cloth, riches, and slaves. But also, who can kill the most enemies in the bloodiest way possible...I remember hearing they first came to these shores in small groups during your great-grandfather’s time, sacking in the night and quickly leaving before any soldiers could be dispatched. When your father took over the Western Lands, the raiders returned twice, for your father went himself and slaughtered each group that came, later, Lord Sesshomaru accompanied him. However, Yao Xin did advise him on the times of year the raiders would come and what tides they would need to sail to this land and back, and the Inu no Taisho decided to handle the matter himself in a more expedient manner. I recall he even sent their corpses back on their ships, raided the ships for whatever supplies could be had, and sent it back to the Northern lands. Eventually, the raiders no longer plagued the coast.”

“Until recently?”

“Until recently.” The old fox kneels by the human’s feet and gently grasps an ankle to pull the foot up on one of his knees. “From what I have been told, the raiders are actually from the north-west and call themselves Mongolians—they could have begun by attacking the Northern lands of the island, but found this land to be better for slaving.” He uses his claws to carefully pry small rocks out of the abrasions on his lord’s calloused human foot.

“So these Mongols decided to wait until my father died and try coming back more n’ a hundred or so years later?” The human doesn’t even wince at the small pebbles coming out of his bleeding toes.

“From what I have heard, yes, Master InuYasha. Four years ago, our spies spotted several foreign ships off the coast that were not allies or traders from lands to the West—those we have been trading with for some time now,” the fox glances up, “from them you see some of these different furnishings.” Shin nods to the door and the table. “But it is not traders that are gathering in the lands across from our own, the spies have seen them gathering more men and weaponry for a possible attack. It has been long in the making, but they seem to be close to advancing.”

The human nods, face thoughtful, “so, my father probably used the Wind Scar to kill the bastards the last time they invaded, and that’s why Sesshomaru needs me here. He’ll need the Wind Scar and the Backlash Wave if there’s an army waiting to pounce on his head.” Soft cotton is pressed to his foot and wrapped securely.

“Taking out hundreds with one blow would certainly be beneficial, Master InuYasha—however...” the healer shuts his mouth and wraps the foot with his poultice to aid in the recovery. He pulls the other foot onto his knees to begin the process again.

“All right, come out with it,” the human replies. “You wouldn’t start it if you didn’t want to finish.” He folds his arms and looks comically like a replica of the Buddah.

The healer sighs, “well, milord. The last time your father went out to face the raiders, he took the only warrior he trusted to fight at his side—Lord Sesshomaru. It may be that your brother only wishes to have family at his side to face the bandits yet again. He might want you to fight with him in remembrance.”

A bitter and sarcastic laugh wells up in the human’s abdomen, escaping before he can swallow it back.

The healer sighs a bit before starting to wrap the second foot, “as I said before, milord, keep an open mind. I am no Inu demon, obviously, but I have served under your family long enough to know what matters to your bloodline: family. Only honor, strength, and power matter more than family. I ask that you remember your brother was barely out of puphood when you were born, and he has had to shoulder the responsibilities of most of this island on his own—not just warring with the other lords for his rightful place politically, but he has made a name for himself in order to be feared. It is really so farfetched that he would finally understand what kind of an ally he has been missing all this time?” Shin does not need him to answer, “but, keep your judgments until your brother proves all your doubts. That is all I am trying to say milord.”

The human, emotions still somewhat raw, sees the wisdom in the old fox and sighs. “We’ll just have to see, healer. We’ll have to see.”

Kenshin looks up and is somewhat relieved to see the young one’s aura has lost its’ denseness; the swirling colors are more opaque and the color itself less solid and more of a mixture. His depression has eased a bit. He thinks the young one would be all right until he turns back to his half demon form. Shin places the second foot back and grins up at the human.

“We certainly shall, Master InuYasha. But for the time being, do you play ‘Go’?”

~~~~

Sesshomaru drains the craft of sake while Yao Xin yammers away about the mounting tension on the shoreline. Those Northerners have gathered dozens of ships and three thousand men as far as the spies have seen (perhaps more lay in wait for a signaled attack) and the weaponry seems to be made of steel, the usual curved swords, spears, shields, and something new—something the spies described as “a steel and wood rod with a boom of the end*.” This weapon Sesshomaru has heard of before; the one that kills one from a distance—“guns” that have no aura, no power, no honor. They are not wielded by strength or skill but only require aim.

The lord needs to see this dangerous tool work before the rest of the plan of attack begins; his main battalions were already moved into place—which took the most time to achieve since the coast is far from his palace, the forest of InuYasha, and the hiding place of Naraku. Four years to get everyone, mostly, and everything into place for a full-scale attack. Far enough that three day’s walk would get the armies on all sides in place. The plans do not actually include his little brother joining the clash or Tetsuaiga’s influence on the battle. While waiting for Kenshin, Sesshomaru has already decided to take InuYasha directly to Elders. The demon lord can no longer bear to keep the secrets—he is weighed too heavily as is.

The door to his personal guestroom opens, and the laughing fox steps out with his characteristic woven bag and fangs bared in a grin.

“Nothing to worry about young Master, I’m sure your Lord brother will at least allow you to have the floor to rest your weary self upon...”

Sesshomaru and Yao Xin stand as the human guffaws behind the fox, “nah. Floor’s too good for the human, but he might let me hang by my toes outside the window. That would be an honorable solution.”

The Lord’s stony face deepens into displeasure, “this Sesshomaru’s kin may stay in the guest room. The futon should be sufficient for his rest.”

The human smirks at him and seems somewhat calmer than before. The impending doom feeling in the lord’s chest eases. He glances at the resident healer, “and the human does not suffer permanent injury?”

“No milord, nothing that won’t heal by morning or so.”

“Excellent.” Sesshomaru moves to stand before the human, pleased InuYasha can meet his eyes without flinching. “Do you require anything, little brother? Dawn is not long away, and you may rest before the marrow.”

“I’m good, thanks.” The human keeps it simple, calmer with his hands buried in his sleeves. “We set out at midday, right?”

Sesshomaru only nods.

“Good. I’ll be ready. Night.” The human closes the door to Sesshomaru’s own guest room in his face.

The Lord was ready to speak before the door closed; he waited too long. Perhaps, though, his brother needs time to himself to gather his emotions and plan of action. The shudders are locked in the guest room, so Sesshomaru would hear whether or not his younger brother would attempt jumping. He could scent blood through the door and is confident he can stop the human in case desperation forces InuYasha’s rashness again.

Sesshomaru turns to his two advisors, his mask of indifference painted over his weary features. He gives both a short nod, “this Sesshomaru appreciates your help with his younger brother, Shin and Yao. All should retire for the night and approach tomorrow with a fresh outlook.”

The two demons share a glance before looking back to the lord they have watched since his return to the side of the Inu no Taisho.

“If you prefer we stay and keep our eyes and noses aware, milord, we would gladly do so.” Xin replies calmly. Shin gives a small nod in agreement.

Then, a small break in the exterior of the feared Killing Perfection: his eyes actually soften, loose some of the chilly effect. “This Sesshomaru appreciates your devotion...however, that is not necessary. Sleep well.”

With that, both demons bow and show themselves out; both are not happy leaving their lord standing in the middle of his meeting room with eyes that almost, almost show how raw he feels inside.

*Actually, gunpowder wasn’t introduced to Japan by the Monguls, but by the Portuguese traders (that traveled with Jesuit missionaries) in the height of the Warring states era (1594), but I thought it would be cool to get the trading aspect in.
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The Great Trial