The Relic by cakeiton

Chapter 6

I don’t own anything Inuyasha.

…

Sesshoumaru stood on the verge of transforming into his true form and growled so low it shook her bones. Kagome’s anger did not falter, but a panic crept its way up her spine. There was only one other time she had seen him like this, and she knew he could tear into her without a second thought. His control was wavering, his breathing was ragged, but within the next inexplicable moment his youki had abruptly calmed. That is when Kagome truly started to fear him. The cold regard in his amber eyes and the haughty lift of his chin was more dangerous than any anger he had ever shown. The emotional outbursts at least denoted a soul. He now looked at her without any hint of conscious whatsoever.

However, without explanation, he loosened her chains enough to for her walk the room and quickly stormed out. Stars began to dance in her eyes before Kagome realized she had been holding her breath.

She thought he would hit her, or possibly even kill her. What she did not expect, however, was his restraint.

The next few days stretched agonizingly long. Myoga still assisted in the small ways he could, but even the flea had become reserved. Naraku had yet to make his presence known again, Sesshoumaru had not been seen, and Kagome rarely said a word. It would have been completely silent if not for the fluctuations of the castle. At times, the oil lanterns would spark or the floor would creek and moan. The walls would fell more oppressive and the ceilings would appear higher than they were. They were all subtle signs of a cacophony within and made her feel lost. Some deep part of her awareness believed that if the building had a voice it would scream. Myoga had said it responded to Sesshoumaru’s bloodline, but only now did she fully understand. Its emotions ebbed and howled and broke Kagome’s heart. He was the only one left and the castle would die with him. No wonder the place felt so lonely.

She relived their argument countless times and each pass heated her blood, but it did not conjure the same hatred for the taiyoukai. Although his attempt to pin the blame on her left a bad taste in her mouth, her realization that Sesshoumaru had somehow failed at protecting his race sparked pity instead. Now, she did not know if he was avoiding her because of his pride or because of his guilt. She was so torn between feeling sympathy and anger for the demon lord that she honestly did not know what to think about him anymore.

The shoji door slid open, awakening Kagome from a deep sleep that had been denied her for days, and when she turned towards the threshold she froze. It was not Myoga precariously balancing her morning meal, but Sesshoumaru, gripping the tray tight as he took measured steps towards her. A chill seized her and, reading her response, he stopped and glared.

“You would have been dead already,” his calm voice menacingly reasoned.

Fear had always made her bold. “Maybe you just like to see me squirm.”

His brow furrowed before he continued closer. “Can you move?”

“Why?” she asked in defense, or perhaps it was defiance.

To answer, he knelt down to set the tray on the futon. She looked to the predictable meal then back to Sesshoumaru, who remained statuesque at the bed’s edge but with a twisted expression on his face. She got the distinct impression he wanted to roll his eyes at her. It did nothing for her distraught nerves.

Warily, she lifted up and reached for the tray to drag it across the small distance between them so she could keep out of his arm’s reach. He clicked his tongue and she narrowed her eyes.

“You have terrible bedside manner,” she mocked, taking a bite of the bland food.

“You are unjustifiably obstinate.”

Kagome fought against spitting her rice at him. He seemed to trigger that reaction from her. “Unjustified!?”

He raised his sights to her from lowered brows. “Would you rather I give you reason for your behavior?”

The threat was clear, but her ire for the clueless demon ignored it. “I would rather have an answer.”

His voice grew darker. “For what?”

With a thick swallow and a deep breath, Kagome pushed the boundaries. “What happened to the youkai?”

His eyes flitted away from her and she stilled. If there was a time for him to lash out, this would be it. She idly wondered what it would be this time, but kept her eyes on his face out of concern rather than curiosity.

Instead, he surprised her with his defeated admission. “Inaction,” was all he replied with.

Was that… guilt in his voice?

The background noise of the castle’s faint groaning silenced, and the empty space it left between them echoed in her ears. The long moment stretched awkwardly before he rose and left without another word.

.

Several days prior, once Sesshoumaru had left the impassioned priestess alone with her accusation still heavy in the air, he marched outside to fly down into the ningen empire. He wished to crumble every last stone, to squeeze the life out of every human until his arms gave out, and to leave the ruins behind without hope of ever rebuilding. His footsteps resonated down the long walkway that extended from the front entrance and the surrounding clouds parted for his decent. The pain from his tightly clenched fists went unnoticed. He barely recognized the sound of his teeth grinding together as a continuous growl rumbled deep in his chest. It would be so easy. Naraku was right; there was nothing to challenge him, not anymore.

It was at this thought, as he stood at the precipice and looked down, that his body finally became lax with dejection. There would be no reward for his efforts. Defeating humans would be simple, but they were not his enemy anymore. There were neither rivals nor cause and his anger would go unanswered for eternity. It was the same philosophy that had stayed his hand three centuries ago. Absentmindedly, Sesshoumaru wondered if similar thoughts passed through his mother’s mind as she stood on this exact spot before she decided to fall. Was her loss this complete? He was curious, not for the first time, if losing one’s heart could outweigh losing one’s significance.

He sighed and stepped away from the edge.

It was a truth he had understood long ago, but his pride had refused to acknowledge it. He had failed his race by acting too late. The monotonous and continuous complaints from those who sought his assistance had lulled him into bored complacency. There were always skirmishes. Battle between humans and demons had been occurring since they were able to wave pitchforks in their general direction. But, Sesshoumaru had reasoned that with the danger of Naraku neutralized, there was no bigger need that required his services. If a threat that large was finally out of the picture, other youkai could take care of their petty problems on their own.

His arrogance proved to be the biggest weapon against his own kind.

The true weight of the threat did not come to his attention before it was critical. Years before, he had ignored the rumor that his half-brother was driven out of his village, but then the day came when he was handed a report detailing his death. The hanyou had become comfortable around holy people since the destruction of the Shikon no Tama, as the story of his involvement generally endeared him to them. A particular group took advantage of his eased defenses. On a new moon night they overpowered Inuyasha and purified the demon blood from his body, leaving behind an empty human shell and no trace of his father’s fang. The dishonorable death had finally spurred Sesshoumaru to action.

Gathering forces had been difficult with the depleted population. His alliances were all but shattered from the chaos of the human uprising. Even as he went forward and fought against the future, Sesshoumaru knew it was already too late. On the battle field of the youkai’s race last stand, he witnessed countless of his kin slaughtered by the bones of their brothers and disappear into ash as waves of pure light cascaded upon them. Never knowing true defeat before, it was a shock when he recognized so readily. He did not retreat, but the reality of the dire situation crushed his resolve and he withdrew to the only refuge he knew.

It was easy to blame Kagome.

If she had never traveled to the Feudal Era, then the responsibility would have never been his. Sesshoumaru convinced himself that the original keeper, Kikyo, had taken the appropriate action to rid the world of the Shikon no Tama. When Kagome appeared with the cursed jewel and a recycled soul, it went against the true miko’s wish. Naraku’s power escalated and he even managed to ensnare Sesshoumaru with his devious plans. Any shaky peace that existed was destroyed with the return and shattering of the Shikon. Within that one year, everything had changed. In the end, after Naraku was finally defeated and the jewel was wished away, Kagome disappeared- never to return.

That should have been the end, but he had underestimated the spider’s influence. The fear he had caused festered until the hatred between the races was infectious. The rest was not history. It never even made it to legend.

Every piece of him except his body had almost perished in that final battle and the most devastating insult was the death of Tensaiga. Bakusaiga’s youki streaked the sky, but Sesshoumaru had paid more attention to reviving his comrades. The long arcs of the heavenly blade’s swing lit up the battlefield in an attempt to regain potency for the fight. Of course, its power could only be used once. Some of the revived demons remained on the ground, welcoming a permanent death, and the warriors who went back into battle only delayed the inevitable. They kept falling, more and more could no longer get up, and Tensaiga died when Sesshoumaru’s heart gave out.

Afterwards, as he remained alone in the floating shiro, visions of sleep and time passing plagued him. He believed it to be a form of depression at first, but as the persuasions increased fought them off. Sesshoumaru was not exactly sure why he tried so hard to stay alive, but it was another battle he was trailing and day after day his muscles relaxed more. It became obvious he was losing control of his body. Perhaps, this was only natural. The more lethargic he became the more he believed that this was what it was to grow old and to die slowly. One day he leaned against a wall to catch his breath and never moved away. He feel into sleep realizing that the Kami themselves must be sheltering him, because right before he passed out clarity hit. He was to be preserved, penalized, and his penance for failing his own kind would be to one day defend the human race.

He was awakened, that time was now, and he would have to ensure Naraku did not destroy the ningen in order to finally find peace.

.

Myoga witnessed his lord’s dilemma on the borders of the floating castle after Kagome’s declaration. He knew what had to be crossing the taiyoukai’s mind, but could not imagine the weight of the guilt that rested upon his shoulders. From his quiet perch, he silently begged Sesshoumaru not to leap, more for the sake of his master’s honor than for the lives that would be forfeit below.

The centuries after the youkai finally dwindled away had been tough to bear. He returned to his master and explained Kagome’s story, but the inu had somehow fallen into the hibernated state of the fortress shortly after. Myoga was left scouring the lands to hunt for more of his kind. Any he found were weak. Most he was seeking had perished in a bloody manner. Toutosai had worn himself to death struggling to produce substantial weapons, but the lack of natural youki his endeavors were in vain and he burned in the fires of his home. The small fox child that had traveled with Inuyasha had gone missing, but Myoga did not bother to search. Kitsune were skilled tricksters, but frail, and their lineages were one of the first to completely perish. He could only assume the worst for the fire neko. The flea was grateful the slayer and her monk husband never had to witness what became of their demon family.

But he did. He was the only one who remained to acknowledge the tragedy that had befallen so many brave and honorable beings. If he had not witnessed the destructive power of hate so many times, Myoga might have felt it himself. However, he was too old, too troubled, and too tired to twist his sorrow into anything else other than what it was; contrition.

He, too, had blamed the Shikon’s reappearance, and even knew the nature of Kagome’s travel through time. He was aware of the lack of youkai, but merely believed them to flock away from areas as heavily populated as Inuyasha had claimed the futuristic miko’s era to be. The brief moment he had below once Naraku had reemerged was all the proof he needed to assert his foolishness. There was nothing below and he was too late to warn the one demon who could have done anything about it. When Sesshoumaru had brought the full blame down on Kagome, Myoga had been conflicted in his respect towards the priestess. But once she had flung the claim back with her clear, concise reasoning, the retainer awoke to the reality of his lord’s failings.

Now, he needed to decide where his allegiance would lie, because he was unsure he could still serve a demon that had been too idle to stop what had happened and too arrogant to acknowledge his own faults until they were thrown in his face. Pride was a natural trait of leaders, but too many times it had proved to be an imprudent quality.

That morning, he did not question when Sesshoumaru had insisted on bringing Kagome her morning meal, but once the taiyoukai had left the small demon took his place by her side.

They were quiet as she ate, offering him only a small smile as her mind was occupied in whatever conversation she had just experienced with the inuyoukai. Myoga looked her over and, not for the first time, marveled at how unimposing she was. If one did not know her personally, they would not believe her story. She had endured much and suffered more than her fair share, but the extraneous circumstances the ill-fated girl had always found herself in never deterred her. She had never ignored what needed to be done, and was gracious enough to do it with a smile. Kagome faced down challenges and never turned her back on someone who needed her. Such compassion was scarce, and rarer still was the genuine nature of her actions. It was unfair what fate asked of her.

“Were you ever given thanks for your duty?” he asked gently.

His question had thrown her off guard, but after a moment she sighed and reasoned, “I thought duty meant to do what was necessary without expecting appreciation?”

He returned her lop-sided grin. “You are too young to be so mature. I envy the strength of your heart.”

She snorted, and her sardonic reaction only endeared him to her more.

“It is my fault,” she suddenly declared, so quiet and resigned Myoga wasn’t sure he heard her correctly, and his questioning look must have expressed this because she continued. “Not the youkai, though I understand my part in it. I mean with Naraku.” Kagome sighed and the flea leaned forward. “I wanted…” her voice cracked. “I wanted… something. Obviously, I didn’t think it would be this, but ever since I came back I have never felt so alone.”

“What do you mean, Kagome-sama?”

The girl held out her hand and he jumped to it, wanting to offer the mediocre comfort, as she explained. “There is no adventure in my time. No quest. The problems of my era are so tedious in comparison. I know I shouldn’t demean them, but I can’t focus here. The life I had there, with Inuyasha and you and everybody… that was home. I wished for a part of my life back.” She hung her head. “And I guess it came true. I, of all people, should know the evil of a wish come true.”

The old demon remained silent, because there was no way to respond to such claims without sounding condescending. Instead, three of his hands rubbed small, soothing circles on her palm and she lifted her head, once again giving him a small grin.

“Sesshoumaru will fix this, won’t he?”

Myoga paused before answering. His faith in his lord was frayed. “What makes you think he can?”

Kagome blinked several times as she stared into his big, bug eyes. Fidgeting, he tried to look away, knowing she could read his inconstant thoughts.

“He needs you now, Myoga-jiichan.”

Sighing, he replied, “Sesshoumaru-sama has never required anyone.”

Her smile was so teasing she suddenly looked like the teenage girl he had once knew. “That’s all the more reason to be there when he realizes how stupid he really is.”

The small chuckle she elicited brightened his mood somewhat.

“Myoga,” Kagome prodded with a more serious tone. “He is guilty.”

His shoulders hunched as his solemn tone finally admitted the difficult truth about his lord. “I know he is, Kagome-sama.”

She shook her head and his brow rose. “No, I mean he feels guilty. I know he has made mistakes, but remorse doesn’t afflict the self-aggrandized. He might not be benevolent, but I think he really feels shamed, and not even for his own sake. It isn’t fair to ask of you, but you are the only one left to be here for him.”

Myoga’s gaze drifted into space. Sesshoumaru’s line has never been known for their good choices. They had always been almost unmatched in battle, superior in power, but tragic in their logic. It was a massive mistake, but one that possibly any other demon would have made, and how could Sesshoumaru have known what the future would hold? She was requesting him to be as strong as she was, and that really wasn’t too much to ask. “Thank you, Kagome-sama.”

She beamed and Myoga’s smile crinkled his old eyes, so he didn’t see the change in hers until his body was pinched mercilessly between her burning fingers.

The thick, dark voice spilled from her throat unnaturally. Myoga struggled in the hold, but could feel the burning of the hanyou’s aura crush him. “My, my,” he ridiculed. “The mighty Sesshoumaru has fallen if fleas now infest his halls.”

The pressure increased against his tiny frame, yet it was the miasma that Naraku pumped into his body that choked him. He wanted to do something to assail the guilt Kagome would feel over his death, or show his master that his faith in him was restored, but there was no time. The flea heard a crash and a deathly growl from the room’s entrance as Sesshoumaru barreled into the room, but in the next moment the pain blinded him and he was gone.

Sesshoumaru was feral. He moved so fast that his form streaked in the darkened room. His claws gripped around Kagome’s neck and slammed her body against the stone wall harshly. Naraku had only laughed and lifted his fingers into the taiyoukai’s view. They were covered in soot, and it only took a second for him to realize it was the ashy remains of his most loyal retainer and last friend. Again, he slammed her tiny frame against the unforgiving stone and his grip on her neck tightened, but somehow the spider still had enough air to mock him with his sniggers. Hot blood began to coat the tips of his fingers and he watched as Naraku wiped what remained of the old flea on the cotton robe Kagome wore.

“I always hated the feeling of remains stuck under my nails.” Her dry lips crooked into a wry grin and her red eyes widened with glee. The sorrow racked him and Sesshoumaru roared until it was joined with Kagome’s screams. The girl, still clutched in his grip, was frantic. She kicked and sobbed and stared undeterred at her dirty hand. Sesshoumaru positioned the priestess on the bed and held her shoulders down, reigning in his own reaction to ensure she didn’t kill herself with her desperate flailing, though he was sure the gold of his eyes were still buried by his furious crimson and that his youki was searing the air. She appeared torn between wanting to rip the soiled robe off and clutching it to her heart. Her screams did not diminish and her chest heaved with the lack of oxygen. Her shaky fingers were still black with ash and she could not tear her eyes away. Sesshoumaru grabbed both her hands and pinned them above her head, then used the rest of his weight to keep her secure on the futon.

She struggled against him and called out Myoga’s name as he tried to settle her down. “Naraku is attempting to taint your soul.”

She moaned, piercing his ear, before screaming in a high pitched declaration, “Well, it’s working!”

“Do not despair,” he grunted and she wriggled uselessly beneath him. “We need your purity.”

The fight in her body had finally seized, but all her energy went into the spite in her voice. “Oh, is that all I am here for? Is my well being not in question at all?” Somehow, her cries raised an octave. “Was Myoga’s!?”

“Do not-” He growled, but bit his tongue to keep his control. “You will calm yourself.”

“Sesshoumaru,” he could tell at that point that the pains of her body could not compare to the pain of her heart. Instead of falling completely into anguish, the heat in her gaze refused to be extinguished by unrelenting tears. “I mean this in the most sincere and least literal way possible; Bite me.”

…

A/N: Ugh, I didn’t want to, but I was typing and it just happened and now I am sad about Myoga.

Thanks for reading/reviewing.