Bound by Corruption by BelovedStranger

The Choices We Make

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Word Count: 3,507

Glossary:

Katana – Long Sword

KAGOME KNELT BESIDE the comatose inugami.

It had been hours since Sesshomaru had collapsed after transporting them from the scene of so much animosity and death, but they hadn’t gotten far. They were still within the large confines of the abandoned shiro.

Weariness weighed heavily upon her. Manipulating the dark magic Tatsuo had—temporarily—gifted her had taken a toll, draining her energy, while emotionally, she was wrung out by the day’s events and painful revelations. None of that mattered, however. With Sesshomaru out of commission, it was up to her to find a secure place to rest.

The shiro appeared abandoned, but she could not take for granted that she and Sesshomaru were now alone with Tatsuo and Onigumo dead.

Sesshomaru had deposited them in a wide, ornate hallway made of hard wood with white plaster paneling. Interspersed down the long hall on one side were closed screens—windows, she guessed. Creeping to the first door on their right, she slid open the door, and had a look around, before returning to Sesshomaru with a blanket. She’d unrolled the thick material beside Sesshomaru’s unconscious form and—before rolling him into the fabric—she’d made quick work of the arrow protruding from his back.

She’d winced for him even though he hadn’t reacted to the arrow’s extraction. His utter lack of response had concerned her, but she’d had to focus on getting him out of the open hallway and into a more secure location. One easier to defend, if necessary. Her back and shoulders screamed in protest when she had to drag Sesshomaru’s dead weight across the floor and into the nearest room. The blanket helped her slide him across the smooth, waxed floors, but he was still heavy, testing her strength to its limit.

As temporary camps went, sealing themselves within one of the manor’s generously furbished and lavish bedchambers was hardly a hardship. Afterwards, she’d been loath to leave him alone—vulnerable, but even with Tatsuo and Onigumo dead, Kagome did not take their security lightly. Securing their safe haven was her next priority, but first, she stuffed linen she’d found in an ornate chest against Sesshomaru’s chest and one folded beneath his back to temporarily staunch his bleeding. 

Knowing she had to move quick so she could return to treat his injuries, the first screen door she’d opened was on the opposite side of the hallway from their chamber. What she found made her blink in surprise, her lips parting in wonder. Though the sky was overcast with ominous clouds that threatened another thunderstorm, the inner courtyard of the shiro captivated her. White sand covered the ground, with large boulders interspersed as ornamentation. Little stone paths lead around the artistically planted shrubbery and trees, but the most eye-catching element stood at the very center of the courtyard, a magnificent cherry blossom tree.

The courtyard was encapsulated on all four sides, the square walkway protected from the rain by a wide overhang. Her grip on Sesshomaru’s sword eased at the peaceful sight. She’d hesitated taking his blade along with her before leaving, arguing that she’d need the protection in case she had to defend herself, or her patient. She’d hesitated further, her gaze jumping from the daemonic blade Sesshomaru had dropped—the one that still rested outside the room—to the one sheathed at his hip.

Being unpracticed with a sword had been the least of her worries. Biting her lip, she’d decided that if the blade on the floor outside refused her touch, she would try the other one. Luckily, the blade did not reject her as it had when she’d been consumed by her own corruption and remained docile in her bloodstained hands. 

She hadn’t wasted time contemplating the strangeness of daemon swords to continue scouting the nearby hallways and chambers for any hidden dangers, only to return to Sesshomaru within minutes after not seeing anything concerning—a blessing.

Then she’d set about checking his injuries. With the utmost care and efficiency, she undressed Sesshomaru to his fundoshi, before rolling him onto his left side to reach the wounds on his back. She counted two. The arrow he’d taken had lodged in his left shoulder, leaving an arrowhead sized cut. Inches from the arrow wound was another, a horizontal cut two inches in length, mirroring the slice on his chest. Tatsuo’s katana had just missed Sesshomaru’s heart. Some daemons could survive direct damage to their heart, while others didn’t even require the organ to pump life sustaining blood thorough their bodies.

Her own had picked up speed as she wondered, would Sesshomaru have died had Tatsuo pierced his heart?

While tending to him, the rain had renewed its assault, pounding against the tiled roof. Thinking quickly, she rummaged through the chamber, elated when she found several containers, along with small cloths she could use as wash rags and spare clothing. Using one of the larger containers, she collected water where she slackened her thirst, before setting to wash Sesshomaru’s wounds and try to remove the majority of the blood drying on his skin.

Was he paler than his normal alabaster complexion, she’d wondered? Fretting.

A sigh of relief had eased from her lungs when she noted that his wounds were already clotting. She’d never been so thankful for his youkai heritage than in that moment; though, there was no telling what internal damage his was suffering. Had he lost too much blood? Had a human bled as much as he had, she’d be digging his grave, she knew.

Yet Sesshomaru continued to breathe. Shallow inhalations and torturous exhalation. With nothing else to do for him but sit and wait for him to wake, hours past. The rain had stopped again when night had fallen. Kagome tried to remain vigilant while Sesshomaru slept, but found herself dozing on several occasions. 

By early morning, she knew she had to leave Sesshomaru’s side. Not only was her stomach rumbling, reminding her just how long she’d gone without any type of a meal, she couldn’t take their safety for granted. Borrowing Sesshomaru’s sword, she’d gone on another patrol, taking along a paper lantern with a candle flickering within she’d found earlier in their room, along with steel and flint. For an unused shiro, it was incredibly well stocked. As if the inhabitants had just gotten up and left, abandoning their belongings and treasures. It was eerie, escalating her unease the further she traveled away from Sesshomaru.

It wasn’t long before she stumbled upon the kitchens. As she’d already noted, the castle had an uninhabited emptiness despite its pristine condition, so she doubted she’d find anything in the larder, but was pleasantly surprised to find suitable, if humble, fair of mostly dried rice and already prepared, salted meats.

She assumed the provisions were more for Onigumo rather than Tatsuo, knowing that a youkai’s diet typically consisted of meat of the fresh and bloody variety. Kagome stifled a shudder, wondering if Sesshomaru would need her to find him fresh meat, but she’d already been gone too long. Worry for him had her collecting what she needed from the kitchens before retracing her steps. She’d gotten lost only twice, and had made a few other discoveries, before finally returning to find a still slumbering Sesshomaru.

Should she try to wake him?

Kagome settled a palm over his brow. Though his skin was dry, he was cool. No sign of a fever, thank kami. Still, after checking his wounds, she dipped a cloth in a bowl of water and forced a few drops down the inugami’s throat. For long moments, she painstakingly repeated the process. Surely, even a youkai needed to keep hydrated, and having little else to do, Kagome cared for Sesshomaru the best she could.

What truly worried her was not once during her poking and prodding, from bathing him, to feeding him water, did the powerful inugami stir. Not a groan left his lips, not a flutter of his silver lashes. There were even moments she feared he’d stopped breathing all together, but each time she checked his pulse, she felt a low, steady beat, and when she’d hover her hand over his face, she felt his moist breath brush against her palm.

Left to wait, she tried not to sleep too deeply, needing to stay vigilant for any sign of approaching danger, or should Sesshomaru’s condition turn for the worst. And, she tried not to remember.

The last was the hardest of them all—impossible to obey.

She remembered first meeting Sesshomaru, the massacre at the Inu no Kami’s shrine that followed. The instant, insane attraction she felt towards the enigmatic inugami, the fear of her family learning her folly. Their contract.

Had it ever been real? Other than gaining the ability to commune telepathically with one another, all she really had was his word that their covenant had existed. She was inclined to believe it had. Why else would Sesshomaru lie about being unaware of the bandits’ approaching her village? Of allowing her village to be destroyed. Or the death of her obaasan.

Her memories of that terrible night were chaotic, but the morning after, she remembered clearly. Sesshomaru had wanted her to be angry, had wanted her to go after the bandits and make them pay for what they had done, and when she had refused, he’d forced her to seek vengeance—as part of their contract.

No, she was certain the contract had been real, so when had he dissolved their agreement? Why had he? And the most important question, why take away her free will and make her—essentially—his?

He hated ningen, despised miko. What had changed to make him want to…keep her?

Did that mean he…cared for her?

“Onigumo is under the impression that you care for this girl. That you might love her.”

Sesshomaru’s answer was still capable of lancing her heart. “You are a bigger fool than he to believe such nonsense.”

Then she frowned, wondering why his reply bothered her so much. Surely, she didn’t love the lying devil? She snorted but had to look away from Sesshomaru’s peaceful visage.

“Why did you save me?” she remembered asking him, after Onigumo had tried to murder her.

“Why…does a man…do anything…foolish, if only for…the woman…he…has come to…care for..?”

Was it all a lie? She shook her head. Sesshomaru had saved her life, had taken an arrow to the back for her, after taking a blade to the chest. That was not the act of one who was trying to manipulate her feelings—not like before.

At the risk of his own life, he’d saved hers.

I couldn’t kill you... Not even at the expense of my life.

The tears she’d been striving to hold back flooded her eyes and spilled down her face in rivers. From the beginning, he’d wanted something from her. Her innocence, to open her eyes to the darkness within herself.

What had he wanted when he’d changed their relationship by making her his pet? She didn’t know, but what she did know was that an inugami did nothing for free. They were selfish, self-serving creatures.

And yet, he hadn’t tried to kill her. Hadn’t abandoned her to her fate.

Even though I knew I probably couldn’t change you back to the way you were before… Implying, he no longer desired for her to be corrupted by darkness? Hadn’t that been his whole aim from the start?

At least, until he’d changed their relationship by making her his property. In fact, since saving her from the murderous crowd who’d stood back to watch a warlord burn alive, not once had Sesshomaru mentioned their contract, or his desire to see her overcome by darkness. True, they had only recently been reunited before she’d been captured by Tatsuo, but the events of the subsequent battle made her wonder.

Her memories were murky, shrouded by shadows, but a part of her had been aware.

When I feared that you were lost, I couldn’t end you.

Sesshomaru had then admitted to caring for her. 

Kagome shook her head in confusion, her head pounding. More than likely, she was just being fanciful, attributing Sesshomaru’s actions to be more than what they actually were.

Looking down at him, a tear fell from its perch at the tip of her nose, to splatter across his cheek. Careful not to disturb him, she wiped the droplet away, the gentleness in her touch giving away her own feelings.

“Please, don’t die, Sesshomaru.” A heartfelt whisper that fell on deaf ears. Or so she thought.

Sesshomaru startled her by cracking his eyes open, revealing a sliver of gold. Her heart pounding, Kagome placed a hand over the fluttering organ, feeling unaccountably shy. “Sesshomaru? How are you feeling? Are you comfortable?”

After washing away the blood, she’d gently moved him onto another blanket that was clean and dry. The tatami mats were soft, and she’d been able to find a pillow for his head. She’d, also, found a pair of hakama that should fit him but had decided it was best not to jostle him more than was necessary, and instead had covered his body with another blanket.  

You’re alive..?

Kagome frowned. “Of course, I am. Why would you think..?”

He closed his eyes and turned his head towards her. After washing his wounds and cleaning him up, she’d settled him on his back, thinking he’d be more comfortable despite his wounds. His nose twitched. She could hear him scent the air, watched his chest rise and fall. Was he…smelling her? She felt it, heat climbing up her face, and she berated herself for her foolish reaction.

I saw you die…many times. Were they dreams? Or…is this a dream?

Kagome’s breath caught, her eyes widening. When she remained silent, his eyes opened again, and she noticed a glazed quality to them. Quickly, she felt his brow. Had he caught fever without her knowing? But no, his skin was still cool. Frowning, her fingers traced down his temple to cup his cheek, thinking perhaps she was wrong, but his skin was cool to the touch.

A jolt went through her when he nuzzled into her palm. Tenderness, unbidden, flooded her as she stroked his cheek. He seemed to like that. “This is no dream,” she murmured. “I’m alive. Because of you. You saved me.”

His chest rose and fell heavily on a sigh. His relief was palpable. I thought I had failed you, over and over again.

Why was he saying such strange things? Was he delirious?

“Why is it so important to you that I live?” She bit her bottom lip, knowing her prying was unethical. Sesshomaru was injured and obviously not in full control of his faculties. She had just opened her mouth to take back her question and encourage him to rest when she heard his voice, like velvet rubbing through her mind. But his voice was weak, thready.

Can’t bear the thought of you dying.

“Because you still wish to change me, to corrupt me?” She was despicable, taking advantage of an invalid, yet she couldn’t seem to stop herself. What was she to him?

He shook his head wearily, confirming her suspicions. I wanted more. I wanted you for myself.

Her heart skipped a beat. “You could have just asked me. You didn’t have to bind me to you. I’m not a thing to possess!” Anger spewed like venom from her tongue. Shocked by her vehemence, she clapped her hand over her mouth, an apology on her lips when he spoke.

 Not a thing. A gem. My gem.

She didn’t know what to think of his admission. Certainly, her heart should not be galloping a mile a minute. To give herself a moment to think, she encouraged him to lift his head by wrapping her arm under his skull, and placed a cup of cool water at his lips for him to drink. He did so without a word, eyes closed. Trusting her. Relying on her.

After lowering him back down, her lips formed the question that was burning her tongue. “Do…you care for me?”

I was blind.

Not understanding his ramblings, she wondered if he was serious, before guilt assaulted her. Rather than putting him under an inquisition, she should be treating him. He was her patient. What if he truly had lost his sight?!

 “Sesshomaru—” Her hands fluttered over him, intending to do a thorough check of his eyes when he interrupted her.

You cried. Were always crying.

Nonplused, she stared at him.

My fault. I was cruel, selfish. I hurt you. I deserved your tears. Your anger. Your hatred. But you didn’t deserve to die—for my sins.

His eyes opened, half-mass, as though still half-asleep, but his amber gaze was rapt on her face. What have you done to me?

“Me? I haven’t done anything.” Confusion quickly morphed into anger, only for her heart to just…stop when next he spoke.

Thoughts of you consume me.

Her entire being held still, afraid that if she moved, this moment would shatter and be lost forever.

When you chose Onigumo over me, I was enraged.  

That was not what she expected, and it was on the tip of her tongue to argue. She had most assuredly not chosen Onigumo over him! And she was sick and tired of having such a ridiculous assumption throwing in her face. First Onigumo, now Sesshomaru?

Men! Instead, she bit her tongue, unwilling to interrupt this strange openness of Sesshomaru’s, unwilling to miss a single syllable.

I was going to let you go and be damned with our contract. I had just gifted you with the perfect revenge, yet, ungrateful wench, you threw my benevolence back in my face. I told myself winning our bargain had lost its appeal.

Kagome’s fists clenched, the temptation to snarl all too fierce. If not for the change that altered Sesshomaru’s expression, she would have blasted his ears with a taste of her mind.  

I’d been deceiving myself. I knew then that I had lost, but was unwilling to accept it. Her hands loosened, the rigidness of her spine collapsing as she tried to decipher the look in his eyes that had gone soft. Gentle. You are not what I had expected. Never had she seen such a look upon his face. What did it mean?

Jealousy…such a disgraceful affliction. And over a ningen warlord. I desired for you to choose me, even above your sense of duty.

“But I didn’t choose you. You made me your possession.” Her heart twisted. “You took away my choices for your own selfish desires.” She remembered Onigumo and his…infatuation.

The warlord who fell in love with a miko, Tatsuo had taunted. 

…you care for this girl…might love her… Tatsuo again, whispering insidiously to her even after death through her memories.

No, this wasn’t love. Not Onigumo’s crazed fixation, nor Sesshomaru’s extraordinary revelations.

“You sound…obsessed.” The thought was thrilling, yet terrifying. To be the object of an inugami’s habitual desire was electrifying, filling her with a new found confidence—as a woman. A femme fatale.

But the sensible part of her was highly disturbed, even fearful of the half-delirious male lying before her. A distressing thought nagged at the back of her mind. If he was willing to go as far as to secretly subjugate her, what wouldn’t he do to secure her?

Sesshomaru closed his eyes and was silent for so long, she though he’d fallen back to sleep when he spoke, quitter still.

Obsession would be easier to bear.

“What do you mean?”

If this was mere obsession, I wouldn’t care what you thought, how you felt. Yet that is all I think about anymore. Hurting you causes this strange ache in my chest. Sesshomaru began rubbing a spot just over his heart. Seeing you cry steals the very breath from my lungs. What have you done to me, Kagome?

Kagome. Not miko. Not aijin.

Because she was staring at him so intently, she noticed the muscles around his mouth relax, his features softening. Even his breathing had altered. Subtle. He was asleep.

Kagome signed, shoulders sagging. She placed a hand over her own rapidly beating heart, while staring at the clawed hand that continued to cover Sesshomaru’s. Her mind was at war with her heart, her emotions a confusing vortex of pain…and tenderness.

Her thoughts turned bleak.

She wasn’t a person to Sesshomaru but something to possess. A gem, he’d called her, but a possession nonetheless. Something to take rather than cherish. Something to own than to share a mutual commitment. For all intents and purposes, he was her captor.

Yet, he claimed to care about what she thought and how she felt. It was hard to believe when his actions proved otherwise. But if true, it showed a side of him she’d never expected to see from him: remorse.

She sighed, finding herself tracing the dual stripes along one of his chiseled checks. “What am I to do with you?”