Ichigoichie by MontiK

Tsukumogami

Tsukumogami 
http:// www .obakemono .com/ obake/tsukumogami/

Groggily Sesshoumaru greeted the morning from the garden's entryway. He wished to indulge in a quiet sit in the new day's sunlight before he had to run off for his daily lessons. Clawed hands preened through shoulder length silvery locks while he sat quietly on a short wooden bench. 

The only interruption to his quiet morning was the soft plodding of his father's feet over the grass. 

Lord Togaou said nothing to his son, seemingly wishing for the peaceful quiet in his morning as well. He stood strong, silent, with his head tilted back letting the suns rays hit his face. His travel armor was in place, heavy steel pauldrons covering his arms and the youkai bone chest plate and tare tied tight as well. All clues telling Sesshoumaru his father would be leaving again. 

Sesshoumaru took the time to admire his father. This was how he often saw him in their cloud castle, calm, placid. But there were times when the courts were visiting that he saw his father's colder side; the frigid expression, the aggressive stance, and the thick weight of his aura pressing down demanding submission. He idolized the man who could be so powerful and demand so much in one moment but then be the calm figure now standing before him the next. 

Little golden eyes followed the track of Lord Togaou's hand as he raised it to the hilt of of his third sword, the Fang of Heaven. It was then that Sesshoumaru noticed the faint quivering of it's sheath. 

A faint, "Shhhh," whispered soothingly over the garden while Togaou stroked the blade's handle, seemingly placating it. But still the restless quiver continued, the sword almost seemed to tremble more as if demanding attention before it would be silenced. 

Curiosity urged young Sesshoumaru forward and he stepped to his father's side, eyes staying locked on the wayward sword. "What's wrong with it?" He asked without preamble. He'd never seen any of the other swords he learned with, or even his father's act in such a way. 

His father seemed slightly surprised at the intrusion but smiled nonetheless. "It's just an old sword, son. Sometimes it has a mind of it's own." At it's quick dismissal the sword grew nearly inconsolable. It rattled and shook, nearly jumping from his father's sash before Lord Togaou clamped a hand down on it. "Silence." He hissed at it angrily. 

Tired of being denied what it wanted the sword wrenched itself from the clawed hand confining it and jumped it's sheath. It spun through the air and young Sesshoumaru leapt just in time to avoid it as it stuck in the ground between his feet. 

Lord Togaou stood stunned, shocked at the fang's sudden defiance. Sure he knew long ago the sword had grown a mind but it never acted like this. 

Sesshoumaru on the other hand stared mesmerized at the sword. It seemed to pulse and thrum as if speaking to him. The blade whispered to him, telling him to take hold, imparting it's urgency to him without words. And he obeyed, reaching out and grasping the hilt in a mechanical daze. 

 The second he touched it he wanted to let go, but couldn't. Something held his hand fast to the hilt as his vision blurred until it was not his own. Suddenly scents disappeared and sounds were muted and the castle faded around him. This illusion was of the swords making and already he wanted escape it, a sense of foreboding buried itself deep in his gut. 

The day turned to night, dark, frightening, and unforgiving. The towers of the sky castle faded and fell into the huts of a small human village. Then the darkness lifted, illuminated by the glowing flames slowly taking over the straw roofs. He could see people running, people screaming, but they made no sounds. They ran past him like he wasn't even there; Even through him they ran. All of them looked the same, dirtied and bloodied and their eyes and mouths wide in frightened but muted terror. 

From the darkness their assailants came, treading in their footsteps after them. Sesshoumaru couldn't see who they were or what they were, the illusion he was trapped in granted them anonymity. One by one they were each cut down, their bodies left where they fell. The illusion led him through the village where he saw that the ones who were just cut down before his eyes were not the first victims, merely the ones who were able to momentarily prolong their lives by giving chase. 

That was when he saw her, one lonely girl hidden in the shadow. She stared with wide glazed eyes at her ruined home. Somehow looking at her gave Sesshoumaru a sense of deja vu. Her eyes were a deep ocean blue that shimmered with the reflection of the firelight, her hair the color of the night sky fell down her back. Her clothes were normal, not especially notable. But, there was just something that told him he knew her, had seen her before many times. If asked to guess her age he might have guessed fifteen summers. 

As if sensing his confusion the illusion shifted and the girls form blurred. Back and forth the vision switched showing him the older girl and a younger form of himself. It took a while to absorb the information, to let the similarities tell him what he was apparently meant to know. When it hit him he couldn't help but scream. 

"Noooo!" His shout rang through the courtyard as he was abruptly released from the spell. He wrenched his hand from the blade's hilt as if he were stung by the mere touch. 

Cradling his hand to his chest he glared at his shocked father's face, "What is that thing?!" He hissed, all pretenses of respect gone in his fright fueled anger. 

Reaching forward Lord Togaou attempted to console him, "It's just a sword, nothing more, nothing less."

Sesshoumaru didn't believe him a bit. Yes, the sword had released him but he could still feel it, hear it even, whispering to him and trying to tell him something without words. He didn't like it, he didn't like that sword at all, he wanted to see it shattered. 

Backing away from the wretched blade he hissed again, "You lie! That -thing..," he waved emphatically at the sword still buried in the ground, "is alive. It's evil!"

Lord Togaou stood, leaving the sword where it was for the moment and stepped closer to his son, "It is sentient, but I promise it is not evil. Come tell me what you saw..." 

Normally his father's presence might have soothed him, but it didn't. He could see the glow of the opalescent jewel on the So'unga's hilt over his father's shoulder, his father's first sword. He'd never seen that one react so vividly either but there was something about the way it glowed that was mocking. As if that blade too was alive and knew what it's brother had shown Sesshoumaru and it was laughing at the pup for it. 

Unable to handle all of the emphatic auras of the crazed sentient swords Sesshoumaru turned and ran. Without skipping a step he leapt off the side of the sky castle and summoned his youki cloud beneath his feet. Lessons be damned he wasn't going to return until late that night. 

While he rushed down to Kagome's village he cursed sentient blades, he cursed curiousity, and he cursed seemingly prophetic visions. 

He couldn't shake the feeling that what he saw would come to pass and he hated that sword for showing it to him.

Even though he knew the vision showed an older Kagome he couldn't help but need to see her right then and when he reached the village and saw her flitting about like normal he sagged with relief. 

Then he cursed again... How long, how much time would he spend watching, worrying, waiting until the prophecy came to pass?