KiwiWitch

Kagome giggled again, a sly smile playing across her face. “You know,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand, “he likes someone.”

Kagura remained stone faced, wondering why she was even bothering to tell her a stupid little thing like that― 

Kagome groaned. “I mean he likes likes someone!”

Oh. Kagura turned her head to look over at where the boy in question, perched precariously on the roof of his sisters hut, hacking away at the old rotted thatching. Kagura shouldn’t have been surprised, the boy was growing into his own, nearly a man. These kinds of things were natural.

Still, it didn’t make her feel any less uneasy. Time had begun to pass quickly, living amongst such ephemeral beings.

“That true, brat?”

He looked up at her call, confused.

“You got someone you’re into?”

His face went red, and then he was hacking away at the rotted reeds with a renewed vigor, trying to avoid her stare. Kagome laughed beside her.

“Who is it then?

“I’m not allowed to tell,” the girl whispered conspiratorially, that sly smirk playing across her face in a way that was almost unnerving. Too evil. Maybe Kagura had been hanging around too much.

“But you know who it is?”

“I do.” Kagome moved her eyebrows in a way that looked unnatural and turned away, a skip in her step. Kagura shook her head and rolled her eyes, choosing to watch the boy grow even redder under her gaze. Or maybe it was the sweltering August heat. She couldn’t quite be sure. 

She stayed a little longer, maybe was just generous enough to bring a cooling breeze across the village, before she decided that she had far better things to do than wonder about the love life of a teenager. 

Besides, there was a cool breeze coming from the west…

She left without a glance, taking to her feather and following the winds until she spotted a speck of white and silver shimmering through the trees…

The dirt was wet under her toes as she landed, but she paid it no mind, just as the man she approached with an air that was only afforded to her and anyone that had a death wish. 

Sesshoumaru didn’t look up at her, but he did slow his walk, which was permission enough.

“Kohaku’s got a crush,” she said and the word felt awkward in her mouth.

“A crush?” Of course he repeated it effortlessly. He lifted his arm at her approach and she tucked herself into the space he’d opened for her.

“Yeah, you know, he likes someone, an infatuation.”

Sesshoumaru hummed and let the weight of his arm fall across her shoulders, Kagura dug herself deeper into his side and turned to stare out at the cherry pink sky.

“Everyone was makin’ such a big deal out of it, too, they’re shit at being subtle,” she sighed, “It ain’t like he’s gonna’ marry ‘em, but the way they’re actin’ he sure as hell ain’t.”

He hummed again and Kagura let the conversation die, figuring that the trials and tribulations of a pubescent fox were of little interest to him. Rin would probably tell him about it later anyway, there wasn’t any point in her wasting the breath on it, or even the thought, but then something occurred to her…

She sat up, so suddenly that he turned his gaze in her direction.

“Were you like that as a kid?”

He scoffed.

“Oh, come on,” she whined, “I already know you were a good for nothing brat, but you mean to tell me you never liked anyone?”

He didn’t stiffen, but she still felt the tension. The next word out of his mouth would probably be something like “preposterous” or “ridiculous” or “This Sesshoumaru would never be so foolish.” But instead he just let out a slow breath.

“It was a long time ago.”

The tone of his voice meant it was something he didn’t want to talk about, so she let the words hang in the air and didn’t comment on it.

“And you?”

Good, he changed the subject on his own. She shrugged.

“Never had a childhood, wouldn’t know.”

“I would assume it’s the same as any adult.”

“Gross,” she made a gagging sound, “could you imagine? The whole thing seemed so silly…”

“So you haven’t?”

“Nah, could you imagine, though?” she chuckled and tugged on a strand of his hair. “Either of us, miserable over someone else like that? Daydreaming and…” 

She bit her tongue and his eyes narrowed in on it like the predator he was.

“Daydreaming and…?”

“Nothing.” 

He leaned in a little, a stern look on his face. “Kagura.”

No. “What?” She would not give in to his ploy to intimidate her and glared at him. The truth was too dangerous.

Sesshoumaru stared at her a moment longer, leaving her to pout with lips sealed shut, wondering what the hell could possibly be going through his head. She almost snapped at him, but then he pulled back just a little.

“So do you have the experience,” he said, his eyes suddenly alight with mischief. “With whom?”

She wanted to scream. Lying would be pointless now.

“Irrelevant.” She was using his own words against him. “We were talking about childhoods.”

“We were talking about infatuations.”

“Yeah, as kids, it’s different.”

“A childhood you never had.” He said it so matter-of-factly she wanted to slap him.

“Don’t be rude,” she said instead, and gave his shoulder a shove.

“You have yet to tell me who.”

“Because it doesn’t matter!” she stopped herself from beating her fists against her thighs. “It was a long time ago!”

“If it doesn’t matter than what’s the harm in telling? Should I be concerned?”

She huffed. Now that he’d found a lead he wasn’t liable to leave it be. “No. It’s just―” Embarrassing.

“Kagura.”

She was sure her cheeks were a fine shade of pink. She’d vowed never to lie to him, and yet spilling this secret seemed like it might be worth it… if only.

“Fine.” She tapped her fan against her nose. “You really want to know?”

Sesshoumaru didn’t answer, but he did raise his chin.

“...it was you.”

He blinked. “Say that again?”

Kagura bristled. She would not.

He’d heard her regardless, judging by the self satisfied little smirk that threatened the corners of his lips.

“You held an affinity for me.”

Her expression soured, and her mouth puckered into a pout. “We’re married.”

“Even so,” he said, and let the corner of his mouth turn up just a little.

“Don’t let it go to your head.” 

She turned away from him with a roll of her eyes, but his smirk burned the back of her head for the rest of the night.

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His first memory is a mouse. 

He’d found it in a trap, leg broken and bloody, bent at an odd angle. He’d pried it free, cupped it between both hands. So small yet almost too big for his chubby fingers. Great big eyes staring up at him. Adorable, tiny ears flickering back and forth. It had shuddered against his palms, and he’d been fascinated by that tiny, bloodied foot―he’d taken it between his fingers and pulled―the mouse had let out a sound that could only have been a scream as joints snapped and its leg pulled apart, flesh stretched until the tension broke and he was holding the stump between thumb and forefinger. Panting in his hand, the mouse still lived, its tiny body trying to cope with the pain and unable to move. Frozen in fear or shock, he would never know, his attention moving from the broken limb between his fingers, to the three that remained intact…

A woman―he doesn’t remember who―would find him later, hands covered in blood and tiny matts of fur. She beat him for it. He did not apologize. 

No one looked at him the same again.

But he heard their whispers.

Murderer. Freak. Monster. Abomination. What sort of woman―?

He’d stopped listening after a while. Insults and curses and lies meant nothing when there was nothing he could be except himself.

And oh how he loved being himself. 

It had been easy, when everything was in such chaos. It didn’t matter the violence he wrought when the country was in flames. He stole the jakotsu-tou from some wandering bandit, one who’d probably stolen it just the same. Such an elegant weapon for such an inelegant bastard, he thinks. The man hadn’t known how to use it. He beat him bloody before the jackass could learn. 

And even he hadn’t seen its potential―the intricate dance of blades slicing through the air―it takes months before he’s raining down death before his victims can even see what’s coming for them. Another few before he’s good enough to get paid to do what he loves.

So skilled that his reputation precedes him. So infamous that it only seems right to take the name of the blade for himself.

Jakotsu. A good name. One that brings fear and dread all in one. Simple. With a certain deadly ring to it― 

It’s wonderful to hear it screamed through bloody teeth.

The months blur, one job after another, all bleeding together, until one mid-summer day…

Hired on by some broke, struggling lord to deal with his once-allies-turned-rival house who owe him a good deal of rice. A job just like every other that he’s taken.

Except this time, he finds he has competition.

A small man. Young. Long black braid trailing down his back. Cute enough with that giant sword slung over his shoulder, but not enough to spark his interest.\

A partner, the lord tells them. Not that he underestimates their abilities, but better safe than sorry when there is so much at stake. You understand.

Jakotsu does not complain. They have a job to do, and there is little he hates more than going back on his word, even as inconvenient being made to work with someone else is. 

The man hardly speaks. Nothing more than a nod and an agreement to return with the promised goods. Maybe the head of the lower lord for good measure. 

The job isn’t hard. They travel in silence, led by one of the lord’s men. They find the gates locked, but then the little man thumps the butt of his fist so hard against the door that the wood splinters and breaks. Maybe he’s underestimated him, just a little. 

The lower lord turns over the promised goods at the display and their threats of violence. A coward. Not even worth the trouble of taking his head. And ugly besides. 

They load their carts and turn back, happy with their loot― 

Only to find an ambush waiting for them.

It seems the higher lord has no interest in paying them. Twenty something soldiers wait for them in the woods, swords and arrows drawn. The man who’d led them offers nothing more than a shrug and a chagrined “sorry” before the arrows fly―too slow for his sword.

They fall quietly. The forest is silent, and when he turns, expecting the other bastard to lie in a bloodied heap like the rest of them. Instead, those bottomless black eyes are staring at him.

It’s unspoken, what happens next, they find themselves at the lord’s gate without needing to say the words. 

The castle falls in fire and blood. Swords and arrows and axes are nothing to them as they barrel through the halls amidst a cacophony of screams and the twang of arrows being loosed. The lord’s head rolling across the floor does not stop them. Far too late for the residents of the castle… And more fun than he’s had in years. Jakotsu finds himself laughing, and when he glances at the man by his side, standing there with blood splattered across his cheek―he’s smiling, too.

“You’re good,” he says later, as they wash the blood from their skin and clothes in an ice cold stream. There’s an odd sparkle in his eye that Jakotsu doesn’t recognized. “What do you say we team up? We’d be tougher together, and we’d split the money even.”

And that―wasn’t been what he’d expected.

Dumbstruck, ice water dripping down his neck, he can only ask: “Why?”

He shrugs. “Why not?”

And the more he thinks about it, that’s enough of a reason for him, too. The man extends his hand, brown blood beneath his finger nails, they shake, and Jakotsu feels a warmth he hasn’t felt in a very long time.

“What was your name again?”

“Jakotsu. And you?”

He blinks as if he hadn’t expected the question. He doesn’t answer right away

“Well, if we’re going to be partners, and you’re Jakotsu, and you use a jakotsu-tou, and I carry a banryuu…” He turns his head to the sky, pensive. “Then Bankotsu seems like a good name, right?”

Jakotsu and Bankotsu. Partners. Brothers. Comrades. Yes, that seemed right.

Together they travel, work, kill. For money, for sport, it doesn’t really matter. Morals mean little outside the confines of their partnership. They only need to look out for each other, never lie, never betray, and never, never, leave the other behind.

The lipstick, the facepaint, the furisode, and the jewels all come later, when he’s finally, truly, found himself.

What a wondrous time it is. Everything blurs together, a haze of bloodshed and roaring laughter. The rest of their band comes together like puzzle pieces, perfectly slotted at just the right moment. 

They are unstoppable.

Until they aren’t…

No one is meant to have a second life. No matter how immortal they think themselves.

They die. One by one. Picked off like fleas. He does not weep for them, because this is the life they chose, and a second chance hasn’t changed their fates. Predestined to die young, they make the most of what they can.

He doesn’t need to be asked to kill. It’s all he’s ever known. Second nature, especially when the target is so adorable. Furry, silver ears a prize all their own when they’re coated in blood. 

When Jakotsu dies the second time, he isn’t sad. Only a little disappointed that it wasn’t the hanyou who’d done the deed.

All things considered, he’s lived a good life.

Renkotsu takes the shard from his neck. The betrayal hurts more than his body fading away.

Maybe the mouse had felt the same...

...

A/N: Late post for a secret santa gift exchange for @jakotsu-stan-blog. Hope y’all enjoyed!

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“It would’ve saved us both a lot of heartache, you know.”

He rolled his eyes at her double entendre and kept looking out at the horizon, that faint line of blue that separated sea from sky. At least it didn’t seem as if she was trying to start a fight.

“What was even going through your head, when I asked you?”

He tried to think of what question she was referring to, but suddenly a gull cawed loudly, far above their heads and stole his attention. He looked up and watched it briefly, the way it soared gently through the blinding blue― 

“Are you even listening to me?”

He finally looked down at her, and was surprised at the look she was giving him. Arms resting on her knees and one hand propping up her chin as she looked up at him, she didn’t look angry―a good sign, though the furrow of her brow and the quirk to her lip meant that she was irritated―mostly she just looked curious.

Sesshoumaru sighed. “What are you referring to?”

She gave a little snort and turned away to dig her toes deeper into the sand.

“Don’t play dumb.” The sound of her eyes rolling was almost audible over the sound of crashing waves. “I’m talking about when we first met.”

Ah. He replayed her previous questions over. 

Did he ever think about it? Yes.

Did he regret it? Not in the way that she assumed.

Would it have saved them both heartache? Most likely.

What had been going through his head? Rage, jealousy, indignation at having been left behind, spite and― 

“You still ain’t listening,” she spat, and he realized that she’d stood up and was walking away from him into the surf. “Jackass.”

He watched her go, his mind suddenly filled with a thousand different thoughts, all too complicated and embarrassing to speak out loud, especially when he couldn’t quite gauge her mood. It would have been easier if she was angry.

“What do you expect me to say?” he called, walking along behind her. The water sloshed into his boots, but it was only a minor inconvenience.

“The truth.” Her voice was almost lost against the waves and the wind, but she stopped, knee deep in the water and turned back to him. “Despite what you might think, those long silences don’t actually make you look smart.”

The urge to argue that point rose up and smothered itself in the space of the wave that crashed against his shins. The water had begun to seep up the fabric of Kagura’s robes, soaking her almost to her hips. The salt would leave a stain, but the hot summer sun would dry her quickly enough once she left the water. He rolled her words over in his head, trying to find a good enough answer and finding none.

“What brought this up?”

She shrugged. “Just wishful thinking, maybe.”

He wanted to see her face, but she turned around then― 

“We could have made a good team, you know?” She grinned, mischievous. “Not that we don’t now, but it ain’t the same, anyone coming after us now is usually just after you, and that ain’t much fun.”

She knelt down and dipped her fingers into the water, when she stood up she flicked the excess water towards his face. He didn’t flinch and let the droplets splatter against the fron of his armor..

“Besides,” she sighed and looked away, “would have been nice to know what it felt like to be protected.”

That hurt. Like a needle digging into his ribs. 

“Are you not now?”

Kagura glanced at him with a wistful smile, and the needle dug in a little deeper. He thought that he’d made it clear― “Like I said, it ain’t the same.”

If she wanted an apology he’d never speak the words, even now he felt them shriveling on his tongue. He’d been in the right to deny her when she’d first come to him, and he couldn’t fault himself for the decisions he’d made then. He could only do better by her now.

If she wanted his protection, she already had it. If she wanted his remorse she had that, too. 

But now that she’d said it he found his mind wandering, towards what could have been if he’d been better, smarter, kinder… Would their relationship have been the same? If he’d taken those jewel shards she’d offered him that first night, would she have suffered the same way? Would he have protected her as fiercely as Inuyasha had always protected his woman? Would they have made better use of their time, or would he have kept himself from indulging in whims of the flesh… Would he have been able to save her, that day in the meadow, when she’d smiled at him so genuinely and broken his heart all in one look― 

A few feet away from him, Kagura scoffed. He looked up, and she was rolling her eyes. As much as that smile had broken him once, he much preferred the irritation on her face now. Indicative of the life she’d regained… and the one they’d made together.

“Don’t look so serious, I was just thinking,” she said, kicking water in his direction. “I ain’t mad, I’m happy with what we’ve got now.” 

Sesshoumaru consoled himself with that, and followed after her.

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“She ain’t here.”

He stopped. Rin almost kept walking, but she backed up so that she was even with him again.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said, turning to where Inuyasha was watching him. His brother had a stack of logs strewn over one shoulder and a scowl on his face to match his course language.

“Then stop sniffin’ around like you’re lost.” 

Even if he’d had a rebuttal to that―one that wasn’t poisoned claws to the gut―he just watched Inuyasha walk away.

“Were you looking for Kagura-sama?”

Rin was staring up at him expectantly, but Jaken squawked out a denial before he himself could. She followed along beside him when he started walking again, laughing softly, but he didn’t ask what she thought was funny because he was stuck on his brother’s point.

He was not looking for Kagura. He’d merely expected her to be there, because she always was. So he wasn’t looking for her. He was simply unnerved by the lack of her.

He’d gotten used to her jabs, the insults that had gotten less and less potent as the months had passed. He’d even gotten used to the threats, which had grown bolder the more comfortable she’d grown around him, unfulfilled as they were, he found himself anticipating the day when she attempted to make good on them. And he’d grown very, very used to the warmth of her thighs wrapped around his hips― 

He caught Inuyasha’s eyes flicking back to stare at him, as if he knew his thoughts, but Sesshoumaru didn’t know the meaning of shame, and refused to look guilty. His brother rolled his eyes and kept walking.

Rin was happy enough to host him on her own for the day, doing what she’d done for years before Kagura had returned and become a part of their routine: she paraded him through the streets, taking long detours to ensure that all the village people caught a glimpse of her youkai guardian―not that he minded, but he was aware that her flaunting of him had grown to new extremes in recent years―she brought him to see Kohaku, who was working with his sister to make tools from whatever youkai they’d recently slain; she walked him past Kaede and the miko who were laying out herbs to dry; called out to the fox kit who was practicing his juvenile tricks on some passing merchant; and she even tried to steer him in the direction of some of the children her own age, but they had run off to hide before Rin had even gotten within shouting distance, too scared of the youkai that she roped along behind her.

It wasn’t an uneventful day, they returned to the old woman’s hut for Rin to eat her dinner and offer him tea as a good host should, she regalled him with tales of her lessons from the slayer and her exploits with the fox kit until the sun had set and she was nearly falling asleep against his knee, yawning widely as she affirmed that she wasn’t tired.

As content as he was, he knew he could not stay, so he told her he would return soon and bade her a good night, despite her objections. 

He wandered through the village as the humans readied themselves for bed, some finishing up their dinner and others still sitting out with friends, bottles in their hands as they laughed and joked.

An idyllic scene, and yet he felt uneasy― 

She should have been back by now.

He told himself that it was of no concern, Kagura could care for herself, and yet her absence as the night cooled had begun to gnaw at him. It had become a routine, that was all, that she would be there, a smile on her face and a barb on her tongue when he arrived.

But she hadn’t been, and Sesshoumaru felt oddly bereft.

He felt no remorse at leaving Jaken behind when he took to the sky, searching out her scent and hastening his flight when he caught it...

He found her lounging on a hill, several miles from the village, surrounded by fireflies. Their light painting her with flashes of soft golden light, it illuminated the deep forest green of her kosode―he’d given her that one, he remembered as he landed.

His boots crunched in the grass as he landed none too gracefully, loud enough to alert her to his presence, though she seemed less than surprised. She pulled herself up into a seat languidly, as if she had no care in the world what sort of creature had just come upon her. That should have bothered him, but when she turned her head and met his stare with her own he didn’t care at all. 

“Well, ain’t this a surprise,” she called, a grin spreading across her cheeks. “Come for a visit?”

It should have bothered him more that this felt like coming home. 

She stood up at his approach, that smile still plastered to her cheeks, illuminated by the sudden flash of a firefly― 

“You weren’t in the village.”

Kagura chuckled and stood her ground when he didn’t slow. “You didn’t miss me, did you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he muttered as he reached out for her, pulling her in close and pressing his nose into her hair.

Kagura tucked herself into the space beneath his chin, wormed herself against his chest. Her voice tickled his throat when she spoke. “Maybe one day maybe I’ll convince you to take me with you when you go.”  

He inhaled her scent, he knew that he would let her.

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It had been the monk that had found her, ragged and disoriented on the outskirts of a village not far from where she’d died. He’d been called to vanquish a furious spirit threatening the local merchants and their routes, and instead he’d found Kagura―who hadn’t been happy to see him. 

They’d fought, mostly with words because even a weakened Kagura was far too powerful for him, until she’d finally given up, too tired and confused to continue, and he’d convinced her to come with him.  

So she’d gone, and had been living in the human village ever since.

Well, “living” was one way to put it. Really all she’d done was wander, dazed, while that little band of humans and hanyou poked and prodded at her, asking questions she didn’t have answers for and eyeing her suspiciously while she tried to find her footing. Inuyasha gave her long sniffs, as if trying to smell any hint of a lie, Sango trusted her but only so far as her presence didn’t jeopardize the monk, Kagome was glad she lived, and Kohaku had the guilt lifted from his shoulders…

And Kagura tolerated all of this, if only because it helped her come back to herself. Irritation certainly had been a cornerstone of her personality before she’d died, so the constant barrage of noses sticking themselves into her business was enough to have her snapping and threatening to roll heads. Just like the good old days.

But then― 

There was Sesshoumaru. 

And maybe he had the greatest influence over her recovery―his presence certainly brought those old feelings of rage and yearning, that burning desire for freedom―his presence seemed to have the greatest impact on her, and yet his visits weren’t often nor were they heartfelt or touching. The first time he’d come strolling in through the village she’d thought that her heart might tear itself free from her ribs from the shock. Rin had been the one to explain everything to him, and he’d looked Kagura over as impassively as if she was just another human, and then he’d gone on his way. 

Hurt hadn’t been the right word to describe the feeling. Insulted suited it better, but he hadn’t done any different the other handful of times he’d come through. He’d barely thrown more than ten words in her direction whenever she’d snapped a few hellos at him, several veiled insults, a backhanded threat, but all he’d done was look her over with that chilly stare of his, leaving her with a shiver running down her spine and a twist in her belly.

And sure, she could wave off his behavior with thinking that maybe she’d remembered things wrong, that that soft look in his eyes in her last moments had been nothing more than her own delirium… and she’d settled for that, until Kagome had convinced her to attend the village’s little summer festival. 

She’d reluctantly agreed, if only because she had nothing better to do―freedom meant she was often bored―and maybe she’d drank too much, because she’d been the first to open her mouth when Sesshoumaru had deigned to show himself, her insults a little louder, her threats a little more pointed, until even Inuyasha had stopped laughing and started looking worried. But he’d just stared at her without a word, golden eyes warm like molten honey in the light of the bonfire―had they gone red? She couldn’t tell―  

Still, none of that explained why Sesshoumaru’s lips were on her throat.

Maybe she’d started feeling uneasy, maybe she’d just gotten tired of all of it―of them―and had wandered off, not realizing that she’d been followed until it was too late― 

“Sesshoumaru…” The sound of her voice was embarrassing.

He hummed something in response, but it could have been a growl, she wouldn’t have recognized the difference if she cared to decipher it. Kagura leaned back into the bark of the tree he’d pressed her up against, feeling truly alive for the first time in months, with his hands roving over her, leaving scalding hot trails over her still clothed skin.

“I didn’t know I could piss you off this badly.” 

Her voice was still a little breathy, but she still felt compelled to keep pushing him where she could, especially when his presence was nearly overwhelming―the prick of his fangs against her pulse and the weight of him as he pressed deeper into her.

“Don’t tell me,” she breathed, “that you’ve been bottling it up all this time?”

There was a pause, he pulled back―and she regretted her words before they’d fully left her lips, she wanted to pull him back, to feel his heat―but he looked down at her, golden eyes almost black for the size of his pupils. His hand moved from her hip so that he could cup her jaw, the tips of his claws tickling her neck as he lifted her chin to look up at him.

“Do you want me to stop?” His voice was rough, low and raw. 

A shiver ran through her. She shook her head.

“That’s not what I―” His lips were on hers before she could finish. His tongue delved into her mouth while one hand held her jaw and the other worked at her belt―she canted her hips towards him without thinking, her legs widened on their own accord and let him in to the cradle of her thighs, his claws tickled when he reach down to lift her―She felt the press of him against her thigh and wondered when he’d pushed his armor to the side. 

Maybe the alcohol had affected her more than she’d thought, she felt dizzy, too warm, but she couldn’t recall a reason why that would be a bad thing. That anger that had fueled her earlier had cooled, simmered down to something much headier, and with his mouth and hands on her she couldn’t remember much besides the feel of him, fangs and claws and warmth overwhelming her. She leaned into it, trailed her hands through his hair, across his chest, every inch of skin she could reach… and maybe she would have been embarrassed at the noises coming from her lips, but in the moment she didn’t much care. 

She just wanted him closer. 

Behind him, off through the trees, she could still see the flickering light of the bonfire glowing red hot, casting its warm light through the forest, it reflected off his hair, cut through the gold of his eyes… and Kagura, seeing all of this, smiled, and let herself enjoy it.

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