So, here’s a snippet from something I posted a while ago. There are two Inu Yashas: our slightly grumpy, regular, shard hunter and an older, calmer, romantic version.
InuKag MirSan
Kagome looked at Older Inu thoughtfully. He looked at her and smirked. “I love you,” he murmured and kissed her forehead gently. She blushed fiercely and looked away, but that only made him lean in and whisper in her ear, “Anytime you wanna wash my back-the answer is yes.” Her chocolate eyes darted to his golden ones, but he was still smiling softly. “I’d be honored to wash your hair, Kagome, my Kagome. But I’d much rather wash your front.”
Does anyone remember that one mid-2000s "game of thrones" ish fanfic about Sesshoumaru building an empire??? I remember this story because Sesshrin actually had twins. They are adults in this story and Sesshoumaru and Rin are minor characters compared to their children. I also remember it for being Edgy but I'm sort of curious where it went now.
Kagome spent a lot of time thinking about expectations.
In the feudal era, everything was her responsibility. Sure, tasks would be split amongst the group, but if someone was lax, the others had to pick up the load. If kagome did not pick the herbs, the salve for sore muscles could not be made. If shippo did not scout the area, she may have wandered the forest aimlessly looking for plants. If inuyasha refused to hunt, their bellies would rattle with hunger. Everything fell on their shoulders, and everyone had expectations. Survival was both a one man operation and a team effort.
It was different here. Home, that is. She had to keep reminding herself that she was home. Survival was an expectation, only in the sense that it was a given. She was expected to wash the dishes after dinner, and to switch the laundry over. Expected to earn high marks, expected to smile even if she didn’t understand why.
Sometimes she could feel the tension and anger bubbling on the surface so intently she was sure it would explode. She was sure they’re would be blood trickling down someone’s jaw as they spit teeth and raised their fist. But you don’t expect people to act that way. Barbaric, primitive, they would say.
There wasn’t tension like that back home. When someone became flippant, they risked the chance of a black eye. No one hurled an insult they were not prepared to pay for. They expected the fight, welcomed it, because they meant their words back home.
There. Not home. Back there.
She had thought it ugly at the time, they way people seemed to rush towards violence before diplomacy. But now, in the fallout, her blood still coursed through her, angry and alert, like no one told her body that the fight was over and it was time to stand down. Her body ached to release the adrenaline, demanded to be strained from use. She thinks she understood how they felt then; this passive aggressive mood was too much to handle.
They expected her to be happy that Hojo came, dressed in a button down, looking far too old, if anyone asked her opinion. They didn’t; they expected her to like him. Flowers in hand, a smile on his face. Always a smile. Kagome would realize she expected him to smile, even if she didn’t want him to. She would wonder what he would look like frowning, wondered how she could push him to that degree of upset. But she takes the flowers and smiles back. It’s expected of her.
It’s expected that he be a gentleman, keep a friendly distance between them. He’s kissed her cheek but still won’t hold her hand. It’s too familiar, she thinks. Too daring, because he has not mustered you the courage to ask what they are. So he gives her all the space his politeness requires.
So different from inuyasha. She was expected to stick to him like a second skin. If she was not gripping his shoulders as they took to the air, she was wrapping herself around him as she was backed against a tree, nimble fingers bunching the cotton of her shirt, untucking it in a frenzy as he slid his knee between her legs. Hips rolling into him, and she knew he would moan as he lowered his head to pull her nipple between his teeth. She expected him to do that first; it was a poorly kept secret that he worshipped her chest.
She expected inuyasha to take her fast, because that’s all they had time for. He took her hard because if they delve into anything sweeter they both might shatter. She expected that when the war was over, they would take time to discover each other’s bodies, to cry their release without slapping a hand over their mouths to muffle their pleasure. She expected to have time with him.
She never expected to have time with Hojo. Time to kill, time to spare. If he was more daring, he could have taken her in the ally way, pushed her up against the brick and pushed his leg between hers. Left her hungry and wanting and maybe not so damn numb.
-.-
No one knows it, but she keeps a bag packed in her closet. Essentials, soaps and a brush. A few changes of clothes rolled tight. She learned over time that if you roll them you save space, and that’s precious. A first aid kit, and some prepackaged food, a sleeping bag without any wear.
She doesn’t know why she keeps it, why it’s ready for her like there’s a battle to fight. Like she has somewhere to go. People waiting on her. Waiting for her.
Everyone should be prepared, she justifies. Natural disasters, the state of the world. She can’t justify why she shoves a pack of crayons and cups of ramen in the pockets.
-.-
She sits at the playground, far too old to be on a swing. She lets stretches her legs out, then tucks them under, leaning her body as she sways. Kagome closes her eyes, letting the wind brush her hair back. She had no idea how hard it was to be grounded, how badly she needed to fly. For a moment, it almost felt like she was with him.
-.-
He takes her to his favorite park. It’s old, the trees tall with growth and age, the trails large and scarcely populated. He took her early, just after sunrise, so they could enjoy the beauty to themselves. He’s trying to show her pieces of his world, share his important places. She’s awake anyway, so she agrees. She never really sleeps anymore.
The canopy of trees provide shade that she’s happy to relax under. It’s unusually hot, but she’s endured hotter. Dust kicks up as they shuffle along the dirt path, no where to be, nothing to do. She should be focused on his conversation. He’s asking her something, isn’t he? Kagomes smiles and nods, and that seems to work. It’s hard to concentrate when the birds are singing and she can hear the rustling of animals nearby. This was how she always started her day. Soon she’d hear shippo complain about breakfast, and miroku would excuse himself to pray. Inuyasha would have scouted before the sun rose, looking for danger, keeping them safe. That didn’t mean they perpetually were safe- any enemy could come at any time- but he would have sniffed out any immediate threats.
It’s comforting, and she’s glad she’s here, even if Hojo keeps bumping her shoulder as they walk. If she closes her eyes, she can almost see them. They’re just ahead, waiting for her to catch up. He has his arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed against the sun. Wait for me. Her heart beats. She picks up her pace, the dust flying high as she runs. Wait for me. Wait for me!
Somethings got her, someone’s dragging her away, making her turn on her heels. Time is precious if a demon has sunk their claws into you. She reaches behind, grabbing wildly for a bow.
Empty, air. Her breathing is shallow as she eyes the hand clasped on her shoulder. There’s no demon, no threat. Just a suitor at her side.
“I-I thought I saw-“ she stammers, hands still wildly grasping, and he thinks she’s pointing. He smiles in a way that makes his eyes disappear.
“How did you see the lake from here?!” He asks excitedly. “If you wanted to race there, you should have said so. I was on the track team, so I’ll give you a head start.” He winks and she nods, trying to force her feet to move. One in front of the other. Left, right. Left, right. He calls her a slow poke and makes a joke about her stamina. She smiles, but kagome knows it’s because her motivation is gone.
-.-
At night it rains. Loud, thick droplets, the kind that almost seem angry. She sits outside, letting it drench her to the bone. It felt right to be this wet. How many times had they gotten caught in a storm before the could seek shelter? Clothes heavy as she tried to peel them off, shaking and teeth chattering. Inuyasha always would find them a place to stay dry, eventually.
She stays until the rain stops, and long after that. Her hair curls and frizzes as it dries, her pajamas only damp as the sun eases her pruned skin. Grandpa greets her, eyes still crusted with sleep, and praises her for praying so early.
-.-
Hojo, she decides, likes to talk about himself. If she’s responding to him, she has no idea what she’s saying. Everything feels like she’s in a fog. If he knew her better, he’d be able to tell this isn’t right, isn’t how she acts.
He often misquoted scholars, and said the wrong facts or dates, she never corrected him. He would give his opinion and she would mirror it. Yes, udon was slimy. Yes, the maid cafe was too extreme. Yes, western weddings were better. No, it was too early to travel to a hotel together, wasn’t it? No proper couple would spend the night together so fast. Yes when yes, no when it was no. When was she ever the type to nod and agree? She used to make demons plummet into the ground just for disagreeing with her.
She decides that Hojo doesn’t care much about her replies, only that he has a willing audience. It works out, because she doesn’t care much for what he says, and mama is less worried when they’re together. It doesn’t matter what she’s agreeing too. None of it matters anyway, but that he pays that no mind.
Maybe in her pacifism, he’s found the perfect mate.
And maybe he’s just a little creepy.
-.-
It’s absurd how much technology has changed since she’d been gone. Ludicrous how much the culture has shifted. She’s trying to catch up, but her hearts not in it. She’s still humming songs from her middle school years and thinking of things from a time long before that.
-.-
They closed the doors to the well house, and it felt like they closed a chapter in her life. Mama had found her sleeping there, curled up inside, face smeared with tears and dirt. She needed a break, mama had said.
She stayed in her room for three days after that.
-.-
The mind goes to strange places when one is sleep deprived. Kagome knows this.
It doesn’t stop her from ripping off the wooden barricade, because she was sure that she saw the well house glow. Her fingers were bloody and splintered, and by the time she flung the doors open, it passed.
She removed the seals that should never have been placed to begin with. She looked her mother in the eye, chin raised, voice weak.
A/N: I wrote a short one shot based on this idea, but I really wanted to expand on it :) This will be a few chapters long (Less than 10).
Akitoki Hojo was a catch, and Kagome was sick and tired of hearing it.
Hojo was nice, and that’s really all she could say about him. He checked in after her for years when she was in the feudal era, concerned over the plethora of illnesses her grandfather had invented, often dropping off small gifts on her doorsteps to try and give her relief. She had thought it sweet at first, but when time dragged on and the inquiries and packages continued, she had to admit she was slightly put off. Hojo didn’t know her exceptionally well- even her friends didn’t ask after her as much as he did- and yet he still seemed as interested as the first day he asked her out.
Once Kagome had returned home and began to appear in public somewhat regularly, (her illnesses had mysteriously cleared up- a miracle, really) he was the first to knock on her door with a bouquet of flowers in hand and a date on his lips. She had postponed, but he was undeterred. He showed up time and again, each visit had her mother swooning like a schoolgirl herself.
‘He’s such a nice young man,’ she would say. ‘So well mannered and kind. If I were a few years younger-!’
Add in her grandfather's similar remarks, mixed with her friends approving appraisal of his physique and it all added up to a giant headache for her. They meant well, she really, really knew they did, but it was hard to imagine going out on a date with Hojo when she could hardly leave her bed. She saw ghosts at every corner, memories of a dog demon haunted her house and her dreams. She’d walk down the road and find herself falling back into the past, mirages of small huts instead of skyscrapers lining the street, a demon prowling around every corner; panic flooded her when a passing car would lay on their horn, jolting her back to the present. Every area of her life seemed to have Inuyasha and their history embedded, and she didn’t know what to do other than leave her bedroom window open at night for him.
It had been her mother’s doing, these dates with Hojo. Kagome had been in the yard, bow tightly gripped in her hand as she let loose arrow after arrow, her muscles tight and tense from months of neglect. Sure, she practiced, but aiming at a target and aiming at a foe were two totally different workouts. She shot until the sweat beaded down her skin, the sun burning hot as she collected her fallen arrows and drew back the string again. Her mother had approached, her small, gentle hand stilling on her shoulder, a look of concern in her eyes. Her mother wanted to help, but had no idea how. She was worried, but did not know why. She reasoned that it must be over Inuyasha, and she wasn't entirely wrong. The hanyou was only one of the reasons she couldn't sleep at night.
‘He’s a nice boy, Kagome. Inuyasha is gone. You might just find you enjoy Hojo’s company.’ She had given her a smile laced with concern, and Kagome felt she had no option but to nod her head and agree to go out.
So that’s how she found her Friday nights became a standing date with Akitoki Hojo. The first time he had taken her out, they had gone to a small noodle shop and Kagome cried. She had wanted Inuyasha to try this Ramen so badly; it was flavorful, but not too spicy. She had tried it with Ayame, and immediately wished she was sharing a bowl with him instead. She knew he would never be able to enter the shop, even with a hat covering his ears, so she had ordered take out for him. The moment she had it in her hands, she had rushed through the well with the steaming bowl, eager to impress him with a dish that wasn’t instant.
She had tried to put on a brave face; After all, Hojo had done nothing to deserve a date covered in tears. He had simply taken her to get a tasty meal and she cried so hard she hiccuped. He smiled fondly at her, pearly white perfect teeth beaming at her. She was so happy to go out she was moved to tears, he said. Of course she was! Who wouldn’t be thrilled to dine out when they had spent the last several years bedridden. As he handed her a cloth to dry her face he smiled, and Kagome couldn't notice his lack of fangs.
Without a doubt, the man was skilled at polite conversation, and Kagome wasn’t sure if she was thankful for it or not. He had an amazing ability to keep the dialogue going, never touching on anything deep or delicate, choosing to keep all topics well, topical. A lull in the conversation did not seem to bother him, easily finding a subject that they could discuss. It was tiresome to keep up with him, the constant chatter about trivial things made her head ache. It was better, she supposed, that he fill the silence as she stared at him, lost in a world of her own.
It didn’t seem to bother him that she was not the best companion, so she tried not to overthink it. Kagome doubted he had anything under the surface, no hidden layers of buried trauma, and she chastised herself, wondering why she needed a lover with complexities in the first place.
Hojo was nice, and that’s the entire reason she was here in the first place.
“I’m so glad your illness cleared up, Higurashi.” He walked with his hands in his pockets, looking totally harmless. Not like others she knew, who walked with their shoulders squared, arms crossed over a broad chest, a nonverbal signal to fuck off.
“Thanks,” she murmured, not entirely happy herself.
“I’ve wanted to take you out for so long.” He admitted, a boyish blush rising on his cheeks. “I knew if I waited, you would get better. Did the herbs help?” He asked eagerly.
The sidewalks were littered with people, and Kagome had trouble concentrating. So many bodies pushing past. So much potential for danger. Not like back home, with its wide-open spaces, villagers keeping a distance. The only one who breathed down her back was Inuyasha, and that she didn’t mind. He was safety, protection. Sometimes he would walk past her, bumping her shoulder along the way, other times he would hover, his large frame engulfing hers as he wrapped his arms around her midsection. There were never people around then.
Not like now.
“The herbs?” She repeated dully, gazed locked on steps of the shrine ahead. How many times had she climbed them after school, two at a time, looking for a flash of red around the estate? “Yes, they helped.” Kagome tried to swallow the lump in her throat.
“I knew they would!” Ever the optimist. Hojo smiled with the ease of someone who had never had to worry much.
He walked her to the steps, offering to take her up all the way but she declined. Hojo kissed her chastely on cheeks, grinning as he pulled away. Nothing like the hungry and demanding kisses of a demon. There was no time then; They would sneak away from the group for a moment of privacy, one ear trained for danger, the other focused on her sighs. They could never be anything but quick; demons attacked from high and low, and they often only had time to steal a kiss before they were interrupted. Would he have been gentler, if they had time? Whispered the words her heart ached to hear if they could love each other right?
“I’ll see you next weekend… Kagome.” His brown eyes were so bright as he tasted her first name on his lips. She nodded, biting down on her tongue and turned to ascend the stairs.
~.~
Mama had been bursting with questions, in what quickly turned into a weekly dating debrief. She wanted to know how Hojo was, where they went, what he said. It wasn’t that she was nosy- Mama had never overstepped in her business before, even when she ought to- she was simply thrilled to see her daughter home and acting like a typical woman her age. She should be out dating, she claimed, not mooning over someone unreachable. So many fish in the sea, and she was such a pretty girl! Her mother seemed to have an endless supply of cliches, but Kagome suffered through them. If she could make it through this bit, then she could go upstairs.
The first thing she would do would be to turn on the bath. Steam would rise as the water filled the tub, too hot for comfort. She needed it that way; it kept her grounded in the present. She did not often have the luxury of daily washing, let alone a bath, and hot water was only found at an onsen. Yes, if she kept the water hot, it would remind her that she was in the present, and that is where she would stay.
Once clean, hair brushed body lotioned, she tugged on her pajamas and headed towards the window. Leave it open, and he might come in. She always left it unlocked for him, even in the blisteringly cold winter, just in case. Kagome tugged off the covers and climbed in, trying her best not to look against the wall. He would be sitting there, sword against his chest like there was anything to defeat.
It was a shame he couldn't slay the demons in her dreams.
There were several moments of pause between when the king gave the order to fetch the oldest princess and his answer. He had collapsed into his throne, high backed and rigid, wordlessly reminding him that a ruler must sit tall and look stern.
‘You mustn’t let them see you smile, Kaname.’ He has told his young son, placed upon his knee, many, many, years ago. ‘If they see you smile, they think you weak. And you know what happens to rulers whose subjects find them easy?’
The young boy shook his head, ringlets bouncing from the movement, eyes large in worry and wonder. ‘No,’ he whispered. A boy not yet 4, and he already had a ruler's furrowed brow. He would carry the weight of the crown well.
‘They will tear you down, my son. They will strip you of your power, and ruin all that you hold precious. You must always make them think you are sterner than you are, for the good of this family, and the good of our country. That is not to say you must treat your subjects badly. Be fair and wise, but never forget that magic runs through your veins. You must never let your people forget either. If you do, the consequences will be dire. Do you understand?’
As if to prove the lesson had hit home, the young boy practiced his scowl, a look he would wear until his dying day. In that moment, the king had been proud, suppressing the urge to smile at his little heir, obedient to a fault and eager to please.
He wished he had smiled more. It was easy, in the moment, to wish to raise a great soldier, a fine leader for the country. But once gone, he mourned not the prodigal heir, but the son he once was. It was a regret he went to bed with each night and rose with every day. He carried it, heavy in his heart, the weight much greater than the fate of the kingdom on his shoulders.
In moments like these, the weight felt greater. His granddaughter, the jewel of the country, the prettiest rose in the land, was soon to be plucked from the kingdom and planted in foreign soil. The old king slumped now, head supported by his hands, bone-weary. When he heard the shuffle of the guard's feet, armor heavy on the palace floor, he readied, wanting to greet her entrance with a smile.
“My dear princess-“ he started, only to look between the silver-clad men in confusion. “Where is the princess?”
“My King,” Naraku bowed low, perhaps not low enough in some’s opinion, but royal advisors were known to be rather cocky. “The princess has barricaded herself in her chambers. She has ordered the maids away, and the guards request your permission to remove her by force.”
“That will not be necessary.” The king dismissed their concern with a wave of his hand. “Send her sister. She has never failed to quell Princess Kikyo when she turns an ill mood.”
Advisor Naraku nodded to the guard, as if offering his approval to do just that. Turning on their heels, they stormed off to retrieve the second princess and do their bidding.
“She has caught wind of it then.” The king commented.
“You can’t be surprised, my grace.” Naraku smiled, rather toothy and slyly, even for a spider demon. “Lady Kikyo matches the scholars wit for wit. She may have thought of this solution before we.”
The king nodded, conceding that it was true. “If only she had been born a man, then my troubles would surely be over.” In truth, he had not planned to rule this long, and had long looked forward to passing the crown and the kingdom, indulging in the responsibilities of being a grandfather and attending to the ladies in his harem. Fate, of course, had other ideas, and thus he was left to wait for a boy of 8 to grow.
“Our princess is gifted in many ways other ways, my lord. She will serve her purpose, as is her birth right.” Naraku tried to comfort the king, standing beside the throne.
The room remained silent, the air hot and heavy, turning his thoughts dull and vision blurry. When was the last time he slept? Two days ago, three? Not since news of the army came at least. It was only when the soft voice of his granddaughter caught his ear that he paid attention.
“Grandfather,” she bit her lip in that childish way that Kikyo never did. The king wanted to shake her- royalty does not fidget, hadn't the tutors taught her so? That was a lesson for another day. “My-Kikyo is....”
“Out with it girl!” Naraku spat, making the princess shoot the advisor a cold look. “Kikyo is gone. She’s disappeared.”
“Gone?” Her granddaughter repeated, the word lost, faded. “How-“
“The maids have not seen her since yesterday. They say she sent them off, wishing to spend the night alone. She told maid Aki that she felt a chill, and did not wish to get the others sick.”
“By all the Gods...” the old king, at a loss for words, slammed his fists into the arm of his throne, torn between disappointment and anger. How could she do this? Had he not raised her well? Taught her that the price of leadership is heavy, and requires sacrifices only a ruler could bare? Yet she ran, stole away in the night, alone and unguarded.
“Send the guards, leave only the minimum here for protection. Keep it silent, do not let the country know she is missing.” He answered.
“And what of the marriage?” Naraku prompted, “What are we to tell the king? They are expecting Princess Kikyo in 3 days time.”
“We will find her before then, surely!” The king's voice was shaking. “The girl could not have gone far without help. Did you know of this, granddaughter? Did you help her plot?”
Princess Kagome shook her head eagerly. “No, of course not grandfather. Why would she run? What is happening?”
“She is to be wed to the Hojo tribe. Their army advances and she is the key to peace. Or at least, she was to be.” Naraku added bitterly.
“She will be found!” The king yelled, anger flaring in such a way that made Kagome grimace.
“Yes, and what in the meantime? How do we hold off the invasion?” The advisor demanded.
Two sets of eyes fell on Princess Kagome.
A decision- a plot- had been made.
-.-
Her shoes were not made for this.
They were a fine silk, light in color and offering little protection if any. They were suited for the marble floors of a palace, washed daily, scrubbed bright, so as not to sully even the soles of her shoes. Yet here she was, dirt kissing her delicate ankles, filthier than she had been in years and exhausted.
She had chosen to walk, the idea of being restrained not particularly appealing; if possible, she would like to defend herself against this beast, although rationally, she knew she never stood a chance.
He was a fast walker, continually having to slow his pace to match hers. A princess should not rush, should not move in a way that made others question her dignity. Even as a child, when her muscles screamed to be stretched, she had to slow her movements and conduct herself with grace. Apparently, this rogue had little knowledge of her training, and frequently threatened to toss her over his shoulder if she did not pick up her speed. causing her to bunch the silk fabric into her hands, revealing white, creamy legs and practically sprint after him to catch up.
By the time the sun had set she was bone-weary, hungry, and afraid. She had never been so far from home, let alone in the woods by herself.
“We’ll camp here for the night.” He grunted, nodding his head towards the bank of a river. “We should wash up then eat.”
“I won’t eat anything until you tell me where you’re taking me.” She protested. She had to look a mess, hair flying out at all ends, sweat and dirt covering her face. Kikyou would never have allowed this to happen. She would have demanded the respect of royalty from the start. With one glance, the captor would have fallen in love, never wanting such a delicate woman to blister her precious feet. Kagome, unfortunately, lacked the skills her sister possessed.
“Princess, I think you misunderstand what’s happening here. You’re not in control anymore. No one is taking orders from you. Eat, or don’t eat. I don’t give a damn.”
He unstrapped the armor over his shoulders, the heavy metal falling to the ground with a thud. The weight of it must have been significant, yet he wore it with such ease. His pure strength made Kagome shiver.
He assumed a lot, for a soldier. Believing that the carriage belonged to Kikyo, the famed beauty, he did not even question that she could be another member of the household. She was to be a messenger- a stand in- yet he took her for so much more. If she wasn’t so terrified, she may have been flattered he made such a leap.
“If I don’t eat, I’ll slow you down. I’ll faint. You’ll have to explain why the Higurashi Princess was so mistreated. You obviously want to keep me alive, I would assume you were told to deliver me unharmed.”
Rolling his neck, the demon gave a soft laugh before walking towards her. Kagome stuck her chin out, determined not to show him her weak points, though she knew he could probably smell the fear, see her knees shaking. Narrowed amber eyes assessed her as he stepped closer. He was a foot taller than her at least, body firm with muscle. He could bring her to her knees with no effort.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He rolled his broad shoulders, his muscles bunching as he stretched, before brushing past her, almost nonchalant, as he made way to the bank of the river. “I don’t give a damn what happens to you.” He looked almost disinterested in her threat. “Eat, don’t eat. Sleep, don’t sleep. If you slow me down, I’ll just throw you over my shoulder. Either way, you’re coming back with me, Princess Kikyo.” His molten eyes roved over her figure, giving her goosebumps. No one had ever dared to openly stare at her in such a manner. No one had ever wanted to, not with her sister around. Swallowing hard, she planted her feet firmly in the ground, begging the Gods for strength.
“And what is to happen to me once we reach your land?” She asked. Terror began to flood her, tales of women taken against their will, sold or forced to be part of a harem. The beast shrugged.
“How should I know?” He yawned, a move that took both parties by surprise. “My job is just to bring you back. It’s up to the king to decide what to do with you.”
Kagome considered the man before her; he was well armored, the metal precious and expensive. He was a skilled fighter but spoke roughly. What was his status? Where did he come from? Cocking her head to the side, she finally spoke.
“Who are you?” Even in her questioning, she sounded well-bred, royal. It was a question that she expected to be answered, spoken like someone who had been raised never to wait.
“I’m the man who saved your ass back there.” He smirked. “So do me a favor and don’t try to pull any tricks while I sleep tonight. I’m tired, but I rest with one eye open. Try and kill me and I’ll end you before you even get close. Try and sneak away, and I’ll hear you, find you; or worse, something out here will get to you before I do.”
~.~
Kagome did not sleep that night, and she was paying dearly for it. The last time she had gone a night without slumber it had been intentional. She had locked herself away, the candle burning bright as she cradled a book in her hands, blankets wrapped around her midsection as she devoured the text in her hand.
Back at the palace, it did not matter if she slept in the next morning, as long as she was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for her lessons. Kagome would stretch out, her silk sheets cool against her skin as she lounged, pillows high and fluffed, breakfast ready on the tray.
This was different.
Each step felt like agony, and she was positive that it was pure adrenaline, a dash of fear and her anger simmering to a boil that kept her awake.
That, and her captor’s constant snide remarks to keep moving.
He was relentless in his pace; did he not realize that she had never had to walk this far in her life? If Mistress Yura could see her now, mud up to her knees, hair askew and dirty with sweat, her strict teacher would faint. Or threaten to strike her; Kagome really unsure what the woman would do. Yet it did not really matter, Mistress Yura was tucked away in safety, and Kagome was assuming the name of her sister, on her way to who knows where, off to Gods knows what fate.
Kagome could feel her brow furrowing, lines etching deeply into her forehead.
“I need a break.” She commanded, stopping dead in her tracks.
“Not a chance, sweetheart.” How could an endearment sound so bitter? “I’ve got better things to do than babysit you all day. The sooner we get to the village, the sooner I’m free of you.”
“I need to rest.” She said again more sternly. “My legs ache, my feet are sore, I haven't ate-”
“We’re losing daylight, Princess.” The man called over his shoulder, her title slipping off his tongue like a threat. “Pick up the pace, or I’ll sling you over my shoulder like a bag of damn rice.”
The first words he had spoken in hours, and they were vile. How could a man treat a lady in such a manner? How could he treat a person like cattle?
“You will not touch me, sir.” She bit out. “This is inhumane!”
“This is nothing.” He snapped. “A light walk in the woods. You’ve lived such a pampered life that anything real makes you wilt.”
The heat of her fury was so real she swore she felt it licking her insides. “You know nothing- of-”
“I know that if you do not shut your mouth and start walking, I won’t be as kind as I’ve been.”
Kagome's jaw fell slack. “K-kind?! You think yourself kind?”
“Princess, I’m a demon. Half demon, but still one. I can make this journey in less than a day if I run and take to the trees. But because I know you’d be sick and likely scream so damn loud you’d strip your vocal cords, I’ve opted to walk.” He stretched out his arms wide, palms up for effect. “Kind.” He smirked.
She was at a loss for words. This beast thought he was chivalrous!
“Now, if you don’t start puttin’ one foot in front of the other, you’ll see a side of me you don’t like.”
Kagome smiled menacingly as she dramatically took a step. “You assume too much. I find this side is deplorable. I can’t imagine you could get fouler.”
Inuyasha laced his hands behind his head as he casually strolled on, now satisfied that his hostage would cooperate again. “Your lack of imagination will bite you in the ass someday.”
~.~
By the time night began to fall, Kagome was sure that her blisters had developed blisters. Her muscles ached, her legs felt weak and wobbly. The soles of her slippers had worn thin, leaving her feet exposed to every rock and stick on the road, her feet throbbing and bloody.
And the hunger; she had rarely skipped a meal at home, and even when she did, she could easily call on the chef or kitchen maid to bring her some treat. Hunger had never carved its way into her bones the way it had others, and for the first time, she felt the hollow of her stomach as it ached.
When was the last time she took a drink of water? The man was a beast in more than a name. He never stopped, kept dredging along. Did he ever thirst? Feel hunger? Pain?
She needed to stop, needed to rest. She needed to be home again, needed so many things-
“I think I-”
The world faded black as Princess Kagome fell to the ground.
Kagome was not a girl who was used to sleeping problems.
In the past, she was the one who slept late, couldnt be bothered to wake with the rising sun and begged for more time. She could find slumber whether on the cold dirt ground or perched high on a tree against Inuyashas back. But when she laid in her plush bed, pillows surrounding her, linen clean and comfortable, she found herself wide awake, and she hated it. Kagome took to counting the ceiling tiles, listing off the periodic table of elements, naming the cities if Japan by alphabetical order. If she was still, if she had more than a moment, she would think. And when she thought, she spiraled.
It was so much easier to disassociate in the moment; easy, in fact, to shoot arrows at a beast thrice her size, watch the man she loved rake his claws through another’s flesh, the red stains trickling down his hands as he flicked his wrist, ridding himself of the blood. They were enemies, literal demons in fact, and it was kill or be killed, and Inuyasha would not go down without a fight.
It was war.
But once Naraku was gone, and the great evil was defeated, she was left with nothing to do but process. The chunk of years she was removed from society, absent from the lives of those around her was one aspect she struggled with. Doing her best to catch up, trying to mend together bits of information and not feel affronted at the depth of relationships around her was something that left her silently sobbing into her pillow at most nights. Sota had kissed his first girl, grandpas sister- her sweet, old aunt- had passed, and she was probably the only remaining virgin in her age bracket it seemed.
Kagome was well aware she had PTSD. She was a smart girl, and she could recognize the symptoms; but knowing her demon didn’t make it any easier to face. It wasn’t as if she could speak to a therapist- or anyone for that matter. The moment she opened her mouth and began to weave a tale of time travel and power hungry demons would be the precise moment she was committed and medicated. Even her own family, privy to some of her more unsavory adventures, had difficulty relating to her trauma. They didn’t understand the fear that crept up her spine when the wind blew at night, her mind still racing and on high alert, even after years of sleeping in her own bed. They had never known the bone weary exhaustion, the tireless whispers of the villagers, the panic she felt daily as they raced the clock to destroy another being. And yes, during those years she smiled, during those times she still found it in her to laugh and forgive and even fall in love. But when it was over, and she was left alone, in a world so far apart from the one she fought for, peace did not come so easily for her.
She wondered if her friends faced the same troubles, if they laid awake at night, trying to tally the number of foes fallen between them. And while she would not have changed it, would stand beside them all and slaughter each one again, the weight of their actions, even when justified, took a toll on her. Kagome had to remind herself that the opponents they faced were often too far gone with power lust and rage to be left alone. They were dangerous demons, wild and seeking out trouble.
But then her mind would race to Inuyasha, and the times that he struggled to control his fury, eyes bleeding red, skin marked with bright purple stripes, a clear signal from nature to back off if she had ever seen one. Yet during those times, she could bring him back, lure him away from the edge and return to the man she loved. Could that have been true for all of them? Maybe just some? Did they have families? Lovers waiting for their safe return? Or were they rouge agents, solely under the control of the spider demon?
It was thoughts like those that kept her awake, kept her mind reeling. No one understood, no one could relate even in the slightest, so she did her best to smile, and not let it crack. If she lied very still, her mother would think her asleep. If she laughed when her friends did, they would be none the wiser. If she helped grandpa with his duties she could stay busy, keep her mind and hands occupied, nodding along with his stories and theories when he paused in conversation for her response. She became rather good at that, picking up on small signals and facial cues, without knowing any of the substance of the conversation. It was empty and hollow, damaged and broken, but she could manage it. She had no other choice. And when the night terrors started, the endless dreams of her friends being torn limbs from limb, Inuyashas body painted red, she would wake up screaming. Some nights, her mother would hold her, cradling her head as she rocked her slowly back and forth. Other nights, she’d wake up drenched in sweat, hands flying behind her, ready to draw an arrow and shoot down the demons in her dreams. Some nights she would simply cry, hugging her pillow, praying her friends were safe; others she would go out and train, releasing her arrows at targets in the woods, the familiar cover of night giving her some comfort. It had been like this before, and that alone was its own sort of comfort. If her family was worried, they didn’t bring it up. Kagome didn’t know whether or not to be grateful.
When she finally climbed through the well, relief seeped through her bones to see the familiar sight of her hanyou, the only red he wore was that of his fire rat. He wasn’t hurt or maimed as she had seen him so many times in her dreams, and she felt a piece click inside her. It was a longing to be here again, to be with him, and she was certain that things would get better. They did not talk about the trauma, did not endulge in the pain that was a constant loop in kagomes mind as she hoped and feared they would. Whatever healing they needed, they had worked through years ago, happy to have avenged their families and found peace with their own. Despite that, being back in the feudal era was its own brand of healing, it’s own slow burning cleanse, to be back in the land she fought for, with the people she fought with. And for a while, it was enough. She wouldn’t burden those around her and bring up the past. Her friends constant vision for the future was pushing her along. And for a while, nothing seemed wrong.
You can only fool a hanyou for so long. After a while, he began to question her. Why wouldn’t she sleep? Did she regret coming back? Coming to him? When kagome struggled to voice it, to tell him that no, she was happier than she had been in years, but she was still sorting through her trauma he grew impatient and left. It was hard to admit and rather embarrassing to admit she was so screwed up all these years later, when no one else was. She hasn’t lost her entire village like Sango, it had her brother manipulated. Her family wasn’t cursed as Miroku’s had been, and Naraku had not taken the life of the one she loved like Inuyasha. She had lost the least but somehow reacted the worst.
He came back to their small hut later that night, knowing she would be awake. He sat by their futon beside her, unsure if he should climb in, afraid of her answer. Pure instinct drove kagome to spring into his arm, burying her nose into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry.” She murmured, over and over again, and she tried to explain the numb existence she had been living for the last 3 years.
Kagome felt selfish explaining it, the words tumbling from her lips in broken pieces, and every statement was punctuated with an apology. She didn’t want to be this broken, didn’t want to return to him so damaged. He had managed to let it go, and he had lost so much.
“Let it go?” He echoed, brows drawn together in confusion. He gripped her shoulders, pulling her in close, as if she would disappear any moment. Tucked in, he told her of his sleepless nights during their journey, not only for protection of their group, but also to combat the nightmares. If they were doing the right thing, why did each death weigh so heavily on him? If their course of action was for the good of everyone, why couldn’t he get the blood off his hands, even after he scrubbed them clean? He knew he would do it all again, but it did not seem to lessen the weight on his shoulders. He was often lost in thought, down his own rabbit hole of agnst and depression, a self loathing to intense he had trouble climbing out from it. But she had always been there, hands outstretched, ready to pull him out. And when she was gone, taken 500 years into the future, he found himself back down that hole again. Yes, there were friends eager to dig him out, but he only ever touched the surface. And for their sake, he tried. To smile, to laugh, to wear the mask kagome spoke about.
She understood. Having someone share in her feelings, understand without having to explain, vocalize the pain she had denied for so many years left her dizzy. She couldn’t have loved him more if she tried.
Kagome blessed him for being the soul that he was, for carrying the weight for so long; she knew the feeling all too well. They weren’t alone any longer. They could share the burden. She kissed him then, slow and tender, wet with tears as they slid down her cheeks, her hands fisted in his hair. Maybe they would not be able to sleep, but now they had each other, and the nights would not be so lonely.
Bridal processions were known to be a spectacle- extravagant, ornate affairs that took months of preparation, each detail planned, purposeful; at least, that had been Kagome’s experience. She had witnessed the marriage of several high ranking officials as a young princess, and even a few of her grandfathers new wives being welcomed into his harem, though it had been some years since he sought after a new bedmate. The greater the status, the grander the affair; yet even those who could not afford such luxuries conducted their own versions with what they could spare. She had enjoyed watching the carriage stroll through the streets, decorated in gold, surrounded by well wishers, those in the streets hoping to catch a glimpse of the beauty behind the screen.
It was different this time.
A political marriage did not usually include a love match, was not typically formed for romance or lust. No consideration is given to the looks of the soon to be husband, of his personality or manners. It was quite common for a man old enough to have sired his bride take her to bed, many husbands going bald or grey while the beauty beneath him radiated youth. It would be an unfair match, to be sure. There would be no common ground, no similar interests. If the gods blessed them, their coupling may produce a child; and if the gods truly smiled, a son and heir. Maybe then the couple would find something to talk about. The marriage would be cold and lonely, but that is the price of such a match, or so Kagome had been told. Having been schooled in more than just manners, she was aware of the duties of royal lineage, although her grandfather had often eased her fears. She would marry for love, he prophecies, she carried the aura of one lucky in love.
Instead, she carried with her responsibilities, the groom treaties, and together they would mend a politically torn hole. That was the idea, at least. Thus, bridal processions left the city more in mourning than celebration, few knowing that the counties prize rose was to be planted in foreign soil. None left their homes to watch the carriage proceed, the meager guard surrounding each side, ready to tackle the long journey ahead.
It was a bland vessel, not craved and painted with the Higurashi flowers that decorated every corner of their homes. There was purpose in doing so; the guard itself would attract attention, but beautifying the carriage would be shouting to the world of its finery inside- a risk, a call to every beggar and thief, tempting their fate with each turn of the wheels.
Her outfit, elegant silk, a light pink that reminded her of the delicate petals of the cherry blossoms clung to her bosom like a second skin, shoulders exposed and flaring at the waist. It was a finer fabric than she had worn in a long time- far too precious for daily palace life- but still, not the outfit of a bride.
The dress should be white, pristine. The train should be long and heavy, requiring several ladies to carry it so as not to let it drag on the ground. Such a dress would be impractical for the long journey ahead, and advisor Naraku had urged his attendants to find her a garment that accentuated her natural curves. Should trouble come her way, it would be an easier fate to be a common woman rather than a hostage princess. If the captors did not try and sell her for ransom, their men would take turns having their way, sating their carnal desires and hatred of royalty.
Kagome leaned her head against the velvet pillow of the carriage, trying to find a moment of peace. How long would it be until they reached the kingdom? The uncertainty was one thing, but the journey itself was long and arduous. From the back, she could hear the laughter of the men, hearty and joyful, going forward without a care. They seemed at ease on the road, and next to their brethren. The ones who marched by her side were quiet, having no one to talk to, and the general up ahead, proudly seated atop his fine horse, the only one in the troop. She had seen a few of them trying to catch glimpses of the maiden behind the screen. She couldn’t blame them; the beauty of the first princess was legendary, often commented on in the city, but rarely seen in person. It was unbefitting for someone of her station to mingle with commoners, so the princesses only had each other as company, and the few attendants close to their ages.
She turned away from the small window, trying instead to focus on the scenery as it passed by. She wished she knew what the soldiers were joking about; it was quiet lonely to sit by oneself for so long. Having had her sisters companionship the whole of her life, she was nervous to be in a strange land without her. She wondered if her sister was nervous, if she had the same hesitations. It was a foolish thought. Her sister was headstrong, brave; the sort that would never put up with this treatment.
The laughter ceased suddenly, the carriage stopped to a holt. Kagome was jostled in the process, hair falling out of its pins into a lopsided mess she was unsure how to fix. Nervously, she peaked out of the window, trying to determine the cause of such chaos. She called out to the men, eager to hear reassurance that all was well. They shouted, urging her to stay inside, not to worry, all would be handled, though their tones were not to be trusted. She could hear the panic, the confidence fleeting as their swords were met with the sound of growls. She did as she was told, gripping the handle for whatever attack may come. Kagome was fighting her own battle, wanting to leap out and assist, yet knowing full well she would be a hinderance. She was taught to attack if necessary, but only if there was no man left to defend her. Should a princess put herself in the line of danger, a soldiers natural instinct would be to protect his ruler, putting all parties in danger. Even knowing this, her conscience cried! She could help, she must defend her people! To hell with her grandfathers rules, with Narakus wise words; real people were in trouble and if she could help-
It was silent, no familiar sound, no rallying cry.
In her indecisiveness, the last of her guard had fallen, his cries overshadowed by the growing number of growls, hungry and dark, nearing her at an alarming pace. There was a voice among them, almost human to her ears, and she dainty heard him give an order before pulling the door wide open.
He looked wild, his brown fur pelts strapped across his chest in mock armor, hair knotted and twisted, leaves clinging to the strands as if he had emerged from the trees itself. Wolves surrounded him in either side- a pack larger than those she heard in tales- their eyes yellow, hungry. He grinned at her, lewd, unnerving, and reached inside to grasp at Kagome. Fearfully, she scuttled to the back, not wanting to be this mans conquest nor his clans dinner.
“Don’t be shy, missy. We were lookin’ for you.” His teeth were yellow, pointed in an inhuman way. He was a demon, and she was trapped. So hard was Her heart pounding in her ears, she did not notice the murmurs of the wolves down. It was only when one howled, chilling to the bone that caught her attention.
The beast turned, drawing away from Kagome and looking back towards his pack. He cursed at an invisible figure, soundless, skilled. Having abandoned the princess for a fight, Kagome knew that though her options were limited, she now had them. She could jump out of the carriage, fleeing for safety, taking her chances that the culprit would not hunt her down. On the other hand, she could barricade herself inside, hoping that whoever laid in wait would simply pass by.
In the end, the choice was not hers; Kagome realized in that moment how few choices she had had in the last 24 hours, how she had taken for granted the plethora of options she had before her only a day ago.
She heard the footsteps before she saw them, heavy black boots that came into view of her tiny window. They stopped, just in front, as if examining the carriage. There was nothing discerning- it was a simple cart that would fetch a small sum, but hardly worth the lives that had clearly been taken. In one swift movement, the door flung open, revealing an armored man, beautiful, frightening.
His silver hair, long and thick, was tied into a bun, red speckles of blood marring it’s fine color. Kagome fell backwards into the carriage, stumbling at the sight of such a being. He narrowed his eyes, golden, blazing against the light of the day, causing the trapped princess to shiver. He was no ordinary man; then again, she was no ordinary woman. She was a princess, and had a duty to uphold. She would not tremble as she had done with the wolf; She was raised with dignity, and if these were to be her final moments, she would go with pride. Kagome set her jaw, doing her best to stare him down. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw him smirk.
The man reached in, grasping her arm and pulling her forward. He held her, considering her as if she were a piece of merchandise. He sniffed once, as if testing the air for her scent.
“Well, you ain’t a whore.” He rasped, tone flirting with the trace of amusement. His eyes took notice of her body, resting on the swell of her chest. His lips turned up in a teasing manner. “Then again, this look isn’t too bad”
With her free hand, Kagome readied herself you slap him, but his reflexes were too fast, the hit blocked with minimal effort. Kagome realized his claws, razor sharp, were not digging into her skin, but easily could.
“Do you always hit people who save your life?” He barked.
“Only the ones with vile mouths.” She spat.
The man cocked his head, considering her. “Feisty, eh?” The man seemed genuinely amused at the situation, although princess Kagome could not figure out why for the life of her. “So, what are you?” He sized her up, eyes raking over her state of dress. “A mistress? Lady to a small lord?”
“I am none of your concern.” Kagome met his eyes, steeled, refusing to break contact. She pulled, attempting to free herself. “Let. Me. Go.”
He smiled this time, his grin toothy, revealing a sharp, dangerous fang. “No, you’re none of that.” He leaned in closer, making Kagome realize how much larger his body was than hers. He was muscled, his armor heavy, but he wore it as if weightless. “You’ve got a defiant look in your eyes. Not used to answering to anyone, are you?” She twisted, the silk fabric falling off her shoulder, revealing more than intended; in a normal situation, she would have the good grace to blush, and he the manners to let her adjust her state of dress; but that was not now, and he was not that type of man. He wrinkled his nose, the smirk still plastered, lazy. “Feh, you reek of Higurashi roses.”
Kagome pulled once more, demanding he set her free. “I can pay you.” She promised. “Return me, and I can give you ransom.” It was a bargain, one she hoped he would take.
“And why would I want that?” He smirked again, a knot growing In Kagome’s stomach. “It’s not every day princess Kikyo makes an appearance in these woods.”
She froze, eyes wide at his realization.
He didn’t know.
This man- the wolves- all of them- thought she was Kikyo.
It was not a huge leap, anyone would assume that the carriage would belong to the first princess, on her way to be wed.
Except it was the second princess on the road. The second princess who was sent out as a place holder, buying time until Kikyo was located. She escaped in the night, always one step ahead of the court, refusing to wed a foreign man and forgo her future.
It should have been an easy trip. It should have been Kikyo, not her, staring down a solider with burning amber eyes.
“Word travels fast, princess. You’re not so secret engagement has been the worst kept secret I’ve ever heard, and because of that, those bastard wolves snuck through our land, slaughtering an entire village along the way, just trying to get to you.” He rubbed his chin with his free hand, a slight trace of stubble growing in as the daylight grew dim. “Lucky for you, I hunted them down before any real damage was done.”
Any real damage? Countless men laid on the cold ground, never to rise again, yet he talked of ‘real’ damage and casualties. Kagome knew this was a time to bite her tongue, not wanting to upset him further. When she said nothing in response, he sighed, as if unamused with her display of dissatisfaction.
“Can I trust you to walk, or do I have to tie you up? Your choice, princess.”
There once was a clan that was small in size and in power. Though their leader was fearless in his prime, old age had beset him, and his only male heir still a mere boy, gentle at heart and hand. Once revered for their magical prowess, his powers faded as his wrinkles creased deeper. With the neighboring north clan closing in, an offer was made that the king knew was not an offer, but a chance to save his dignity. They would come and they would conquer.
Unless-
“We must send the princess.” He commanded, voice gravelly, heart heavy. He loved her dearly, and hated to see her go. He wished for her a life of ease, the freedom to choose when so few were given that chance. He wanted for her all the gentleness of life, but he knew now it was a fools dream.
Royalty seldom are given the chances they wished for; and a maidan as stunning as she had even less. As if cattle, she was to be sold to the highest bidder, the nearest army, in hopes of protection, not only from their troops, but the greater threat east.
The red demon was soon approaching. While the north’s clan was hot on their heels, the king knew it would be wise to ally himself with them. They would need strength In numbers to hold off the easts attacks, For when the red demon came, few survived.
The oldest princess, endowed with beauty, blessed with brains. She was as cunning as she was witty; graceful as she was kind. If anyone could create kinship and save the kingdom, it was she.
