CHAPTER 7 The Pleasure of Selfless Deeds TWO DAYS LATER Sango huffed exhaustion, and yanked the heavy pelt out of the river. Wringing it twice for good measure, she hucked it in the grass and plopped down on the bank, and rested her elbows on her knees. The huntress never thought the bloodstains would come out. She'd been scrubbing the damn fur since the apex of the sun, and it had just barely begun to make a difference. The frustrating thing was that Sango could have used all those fancy soaps Kagome had brought back from her time. They had certainly done the trick in cleaning her right up, rinsing all the sticky grime from her body� Not to mention the delightful floral aroma that was left in her skin and hair. But that was the problem. They smelled, and to taint a precious relic with their artificial scents was almost as offensive as leaving the dead unburied. It would turn her good deed into a mockery, and she couldn't do that to Sesshoumaru. "Ah. There you are, Sango-chan." She startled. That sweet, reverent voice always sent her heart fluttering, and she turned to see Miroku, with his long robes, and gentle demeanor approach and plunk down on the bank to her side. "I was getting lonely back there, and wanted to enjoy your company," he said, an honest smile halving his face. He was always so confident. So self-assured. No doubt one of his most attractive features�well that, and those sparkling shadowy eyes� Not to mention that deceptively sweet boy face, or his handsome, white smile� "�since they're together, and all. So I imagine Inuyasha and Kagome will stay an extra couple days in her time." Sango blinked. He'd been talking? Why was it that every time they were alone, she felt like she had all the concentration of an infatuated teenager? She felt the blood rush to her face, and looked shyly at her ankles. "So�" she scrambled for conversation, trying not to think about what they could be, instead of what they were, "Do you think it's as Kaede says? That Kagome will be immortal now that she absorbed the Shikon no Tama?" "Ah, that�" His brow drew in the center, and she half wanted to kick herself for making him focus on something other than her. "This is unprecedented. But it does enable her to come and go as she pleases, and I don't know about immortality, but prolonged life does sound plausible�" Her thoughts suddenly went to Sesshoumaru, and his desire to turn Rin into a demon solely to prolong her life. It made Sango wonder if his obvious reluctance with forming a friendship was due to her short, human lifespan. Not wanting to go through the pain of loss a second time, even if it was years in the future� It made her sad. The pain he must have gone through as a child� She wondered if Kohaku, at his tender young age, would have cut himself off in a similar fashion had he been the sole survivor of their people. "Sango," Miroku said intensely, startling her out of her thoughts. "You've said so little about what happened inside the Shikon no Tama. Are you sure you're�okay?" So like him, she thought. His concern was nearly palpable, taking the form of a non-invasive, altruistic inquiry that hit her heart dead on. Was she okay? Truly? Considering it deeply for the first time since they'd gotten out, Sango realized that she was. "The attacks were very personal, Houshi-sama. The realm�it aimed to break the soul, and used our own thoughts�our fears, our�" she blushed, recalling the ghoul that impersonated Miroku, "desires�against us. But by surviving, we emerged with stronger spirits. More fortified souls. So yes, we're okay." "We're okay�" he noted curiously. "You and Sesshoumaru�" Sango blinked. She wasn't even aware that she'd been including the demon lord in the retelling. Miroku had only asked after her well-being, after all. Odd� It had just seemed natural. Not knowing how else to respond, she nodded. An unidentifiable expression flitted across his face then, and his attention was drawn to the ripped fur laid out in the grass. "And here you are cleansing his pelt," Miroku mused out loud. "Do you plan on mending it?" "Hai. It was his mother's. He discarded it like it meant nothing to him, but I know differently." "Hmm�" He pursed his lips and studied her for a moment. "You care about him," he said quietly. The words were startling to hear out loud. Especially trickling off of Miroku's lips. Her affection for the powerful youkai was innocent. Pure. Inevitable, after all they went through together. Why should she feel awkward discussing it? Miroku sighed. "I'll admit, it's difficult to see the great demon lord as anything other than enemy. But if you claim him as friend, then I trust you. Besides, he did bring you back to life. And for that, I'd spend the rest of my days as his servant, if he so asked." Her flush darkened, "You�really feel that way, Houshi-sama?" He locked her in his stare, smiling ruefully. "Hai." "Oh�" Her heartbeat quickened as he took the initiative and inched closer. Then she stiffened as his arm slipped around her shoulders, pulling her against his side in a friendly embrace. It took her several seconds to assimilate that he was touching her without groping her, and then several more to relax enough to enjoy it. He sighed comfortably, as though holding her like this was an everyday occurrence. "So what are your plans now, Sango-chan?" "I�" I can hear your heartbeat, she thought, as her ear rested on his warm chest. With a quick mental shake, she tried to focus. "I need to return to my village to craft a new weapon, since Hiraikotsu was left behind. Also to mend Sesshoumaru's pelt." She paused momentarily to ponder what the youkai's reaction would be when he saw it. "Would you like company?" Her stomach flipped. A simple inquiry, yet littered with possibilities. Was he saying that he wanted to be with her? She couldn't tell. It was so hard to concentrate when he was holding her like this, asking such easily-misinterpreted questions. Damn her twitterpated heart. "I would love your company, Houshi-sama," she whispered, and then mentally thwacked herself for forgetting something important. "But perhaps you can visit me later. There is something I have to do alone, while I'm there. Kohaku's soul�I don't know if his troubles followed him into the next dimension." His hand caressed her shoulder reassuringly. "You wish to sanctify a grave for him, and then retrieve his body so it can rest in the land of your ancestors." She was silently grateful that he was so well-versed in traditional customs, and holy rituals. Saved her from spelling out the circumstance of a subject that was still very sore. She nodded. "I'll leave in the morning." It was then that her gaze was drawn to his long fingers as they curled around her bicep. The beads were gone, and the back of his hand was smooth from being covered by the holy seal that kept his air void closed. "So how does it feel now that the kazaana is gone?" she asked, knowing it was no small adjustment. "Well," he began, a hint of mischief in his otherwise innocent tone, "I was hoping you'd help me with that�" He moved so subtly, that Sango didn't catch the intent of his words until a very sensitive and very fleshy part of her anatomy was unceremoniously squeezed. A half-second later, Miroku was pitched headlong into the river. * * * THE NEXT DAY The putrid waft of human decay filled Sesshoumaru's nostrils as he dropped the unearthed corpse at his feet. It mingled with the stale stench of hundreds of butchered youkai that still littered the old battleground in sickening, oozy clumps. Yes, he affirmed, trusting his insight into human frailty. It was wise to leave Rin behind with Jaken. "So this is the lad�" The voice came from behind him, as warbled and dry as churning gravel. Its owner stepped slowly up to the body at his feet, swaddled from head to toe in the black, enchanted moss cloth of the scarab youkai - a creature that had migrated here centuries ago. A gnarled, warty hand covered her mouth and nose. Piss-yellow eyes stared without emotion from within a shadowed hood, and she hovered over the lifeless form with a back that was already hideously hunched with age. Sesshoumaru looked down at her through narrowed eyes. "Can you do it, witch?" A few more moments of observation, and she eased back, wholly comfortable in the demon lord's presence. "Never toyed much with humans, pup." He ignored the title. She'd called him that ever since he was small, being one of the few acquaintances of his father's that he'd kept tabs on. One never knew when they'd need such a powerful ally. "But truth be told, their psyches aren't that different from youkai," she said and then snorted. "If at all. Though I assume you've already come to that conclusion if you're wasting my time on a human child." The curiosity inevitably came. "Why, Sesshoumaru?" He unsheathed Tensaiga. "That is not your concern." She laughed, a throaty rumble of a sound that was better suited for the shifting of the planet's plates than actual voice. "You. You're changing, young pup. Your mother's pelt, your tribe's insignias, traditional garb�all replaced by the simple, leather threading of a humble nomad. And the smell of hate that has tainted your presence for years has been softened with something gentler. Even kind�" "Enough," he growled. Hearing that very observation from an individual who was so precariously balanced between good and evil was almost like being in the realm all over again. And he was through with mind games. A silence fell between them until she smirked and turned back to the body. "So what memories am I to purge?" He recalled what he knew of the boy's demise, and how Naraku had used the lad to slaughter his own kin. "They'll surface soon after he's brought back. You will see them in his face." "And you're sure Tensaiga can resurrect him?" He resisted the urge to tear her in half. "Do not mock me. You know it can." She responded with another throaty chuckle. "So you learned that the nature of your blade was my suggestion to begin with," she said with an infuriating amusement. "Your father had hoped it would help to curb your bloodthirsty nature." He glared at her, his free hand curling into a fist. How he hated dealing with the insolent old hag. Had she been anyone else� "As long as the flesh is still on the bones, it will work," she confirmed, patting her atrophied belly. Then she reached in the heavy folds of her garb, and withdrew an opalescent orb the size of his fist. One of her many, mysterious trinkets. "This spell is powerful, pup, but so is the mind. There is a good chance that one day he'll remember, and it might drive him mad�" Sesshoumaru had considered that, and hopefully by then the boy would be able to cope. But if not� "Then I'll be back to seek you out, witch." "You'll have to keep me alive�" "It is your payment. I already said I would." "Very well. Now tell me the boy's name." Sesshoumaru readied his blade. "His name is Kohaku." * * * The old hag had worked her magics before they left, and told Sesshoumaru of Sango's exact whereabouts. He was unsurprised to hear that she'd gone to her old village. An appropriate meeting grounds for the precious cargo in his care. It was evening when they arrived, the moonlight blanketing the village's clearing in an ethereal luminescent glow. The graves of the village's dead lined the walkways in an even fashion, all covered but one. He caught the scent of fresh unearthed dirt, and stared at a neat rectangular hole in the ground. It was decorated with holy trinkets, and prayer sheets, and he knew without being told that it was for Kohaku's body. He smiled inwardly. All that work to dig it, and it was all in vain. He looked at the huts, and noticed the yellow flicker of a lamplight inside one of the structures. Sesshoumaru suddenly felt anxious, and took a deep, calming breath. He would have rather just dropped the boy off, and avoided any awkward moment of gratitude. But after all Sango had been through, Sesshoumaru felt the need to arrive before the boy did, so he could prepare her emotionally...so that she knew no one was playing tricks on her like Naraku had. The firecat appeared in the doorway of the building she was in, and it saw him. He anticipated a growl, or even an attack, but it just stood there, blinking at him in curious alarm. A second later, Sango materialized in the doorway, no doubt sensing his presence. After all, she'd been trained to feel for youkai. Her hair was let down around her shoulders, and she wore a simple off-white kimono. It made her look unexpectedly soft. Even delicate. So unlike the woman he'd been trapped in the realm with. For some reason it made him tense up, as though she'd be a different person now. She saw him. A brief expression of surprise crossed her face, and then it brightened with a sweet smile. He exhaled relief, wondering why he thought she'd be unhappy to see him. She'd asked for his friendship, hadn't she? Sango made her way over to him, and he noticed with detached amusement that she almost trotted. That made three people in this world who were happy to see him. Jaken, Rin, and now her. He wished he understood why. "Sesshoumaru," she said, stopping a breath away from him. She clasped her hands behind her back, and lifted her chin to peer openly at his face. "It's good to see you. I was wondering if you'd stop by one of these days," she smiled, her eyes crinkling with warmth. He opened his mouth to respond, but had difficulty getting anything out. He still couldn't pinpoint exactly why he'd resurrected her brother, let alone put it into words. And the way the huntress was looking at him was so distracting. Like a soul-healing all over again. Sango suddenly grabbed his hand, and winked at him. "I have something for you." "You�do?" "Mm-hmm." With that, she tugged him behind her, as comfortable in his presence as his own siblings had been. Not knowing what else to do, he followed her, noticing as he did so the light pulse of her heartbeat in her fingertips. Were all humans this alive? They entered the hut from which she'd emerged, and he froze in the doorway. There, hanging on a rack in all its radiant splendor was his mother's pelt - as untouched and whole as the day he'd first put it on. All his practiced years of reticence couldn't stop his eyes from widening dramatically. "You�mended it�" "All our weapons and armor are made out of youkai parts," she said, obviously pleased with her own handiwork. "It wasn't too hard, once I got the stains out�" He was speechless, and watched in muted shock as she lifted the pelt off the wrack and brought it over to him. He raised his hand hesitantly, and ran his fingers along the soft fur. It was an old habit - one that he didn't realize he had until it was no longer draped across his right shoulder. My matriarch's pelt� His eyes stung for some odd reason, and he fought the urge to put it back where it had always been. On his person. "Why?" he asked, lifting his gaze to meet her eyes. "Why did you do this?" She shrugged, reading his satisfaction with alarming perfection. She did know him well. "I thought it would make you happy," she smiled and looked him up and down. Her hand raised to touch his dark leather garb, and tease the folds of his sleeve. "You're leaving your vendettas behind, aren't you Sesshoumaru?" she mused quietly. "That's why your new, simple clothing is void of all traces of your past�" He stared at her, again disturbed by how well she read him. It was something he had barely admitted to himself the day before, and here she was, blurting it out like it was the most obvious conclusion in the world. "Well, your new attire suits you. And you can leave the pelt here if you have no where else to put it� I can always place it in Midoriko's cave for safekeeping." He almost choked this time. It was another truth she'd extracted from him without his awareness. He hadn't made a home since the day his family was slain, but how the hell did she know he was a wanderer? She seemed amused by his stunned reaction, and with a smile turned to start putting away her tools. "I still have to build a new weapon, but I've decided to stay here�" Her words faded out as he studied her, watching her move with an at-home ease within her shed, putting things in their proper places, and dusting off the workspace. He suddenly longed for that sort of comfort. A place he could stop by on occasion that would welcome him with friendly arms instead of fearful ones. A home base, if not an actual home. And if the pelt were in her care... "Keep it here," he said, not realizing he interrupted her until she choked on her words. "For safekeeping." She smiled knowingly. "I'd planned on it." "Sango..." "Hmm?" "I did something," he began, realizing that the boy would be here any second. "Something that will affect you." Her face straightened into an expression of serious curiosity. "What?" "I brought someone--" "NEE-CHAN!!" Sesshoumaru cursed inwardly, and watched as the blood drained from Sango's face. "NEE-CHAN! NEE-CHAN!!!" Her jaw dropped. Her eyes bugged, and Sesshoumaru was knocked aside as Sango rushed past him out into the clearing, and into the arms of an eleven-year old boy. "KOHAKU!" What followed was an incoherent cacophony of sobs and laughter, interspersed by the boy's choked attempt to explain how a dog demon told him he'd been brought back to life, but he didn't remember being dead, and so on� Sesshoumaru collected himself and stood in the doorway, unable to peel his stare away. The scene triggered something inside of him. Something deep. Warm. Overwhelming. Knowing that he'd indirectly been the source of so much happiness was a euphoric sensation - more intoxicating that the rush of battle, or the symphonic thundering of a sky-high waterfall. It gave him the sudden, ridiculous urge to go about resurrecting random individuals, just to see this kind of reunion over and over. Stupid, really. Utter foolishness. He noticed Rin and Jaken had joined them with Uhn Uhn at the edge of the village. Rin's smile twinkled brightly in the moonlight, and her eyes shimmered with delight. He'd made her happy too, just by making Sango happy. Hn. Imagine that, he thought in repressed contentment. This nonsense is contagious. Sango finally released the boy, and caressed his cheek. Then she turned, and Sesshoumaru blinked as all her attention was redirected at him. Glistening, soft eyes, tear-streaked face, quivering lips�he nearly choked being the intended recipient of so much emotion. She broke out into a run, charging him. Reflex made him nearly flee, but he held his ground, telling himself she wasn't going to attack him. But he was wrong. Instead of stopping on the perimeter of his personal space, she barreled right into it, and threw her arms around his ribs, trying to crush him. He froze in mild panic. What the...? Is this a trick? No. She's embracing me. Embracing. Out of gratitude. That's non-threatening... He exhaled. Okay... Her hands clasped behind his back, and she buried her face against his chest. He stared stupidly down at the silky, raven crown of her head, not knowing what his part was in all this. The demon lord hadn't been a victim of spontaneous hugging since he was old enough to walk, and wondered crazily if this sort of random affection was all part of being 'friends'. Her arms tightened around him, and she wiped her eyes on his shirt. "Thank you, Sesshoumaru," she whispered. He shook his head, not knowing how else to respond. After several shocked seconds, he hesitantly placed a hand on her waist, and the other between her shoulder blades against her tresses. His thoughts were still scattered, as though every one of his senses was on high alert, but beneath it all he couldn't deny that being embraced like this felt�nice. Wholly different from how she'd held him in the realm, but with the same result. It made him feel unbelievably significant. More empowering than slaughtering entire armies with his bare hands. He lowered his head, with the intent to speak, but instead was distracted by her scent. And this time it was untainted with the smell of his own blood. Traces of a refiner's fire, eucalyptus, some residual floral aroma, and wet grass all swirled around the unique, musky sweetness of her effeminate, human scent. His eyes closed. It was downright intoxicating. He barely noticed how his arms came full circle around her, or how he bent over her form, molding them together. Some part of him remembered that he'd been trying to tell her something before the boy burst into the scene, and so collecting what he could of his thoughts, he spoke through the inebriation. "Sango," he whispered above her ear, "His memories�they've been repressed for now, but that�doesn't mean they won't surface. You will need to tell him�about your village, and how Naraku used him� Eventually�" She nodded understanding, seemingly oblivious to the effect she was having on him. With one last squeeze, Sango unclasped her hands and released him. It took Sesshoumaru a moment to recognize that that was his cue to release her as well, and he stepped back, slightly ruffled, trying to regain his composure. "You have no idea how much this means to me, Sesshoumaru�" "Oh, I think you demonstrated it just fine." She blushed, and pushed her bangs back from her forehead. Kohaku approached them now that they'd separated, and tugged on his sister's hand. "Ah, so you do know each other!" Sango laughed, and made a directional waving motion at the demon lord. "Kohaku, the youkai who brought you home, is Sesshoumaru," she smiled and winked at him. "My good friend."
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Chap. 6
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