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Drawing from a hotel room because they’re worthy. Drawing this made me realize how much I want domestic SessKagu & KohRin and how they all should gang Sesshomaru to get a ponytail :3
Fresh air was a rare commodity for Kagura. As precious as gold. She inhaled deep, savoring the feeling of clean and cool in her lungs. The breeze on her skin was almost heavenly, and she took the time to relish in it; the way it smoothed cool fingers through her hair and ghosted along her cheeks. This planet was uncommon; a temperate climate, enough water and sun to support an agricultural industry that could feed an entire system. She’d only been here once before, and she inhaled the sweet citrus scent that seemed to dance on the wind no matter where you were. Orchards and gardens fat with fruit all throughout the year, a green belt that spanned out for hundreds of thousands of miles across the planet’s center.
Kagura supposed that’s what had brought them here.
Available at: FanFiction.Net // Archive of Our Own
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DISCLAIMER: This was written weeks ago but no one outside a Discord has seen it, and I thought it fit the prompt.
When he is fourteen, Sesshomaru’s son, Akinori, goes to see a fortune teller.
His mother advises against it; claiming to have killed many witches in her time, she declares that, with a sweep of her fan, “all they tell you is what you want to hear.”
Akinori laughs, but in the end can neither agree nor disagree; for when he arrives, the woman bars the doors and refuses to give him answers.
When will the panther king fall from power - this year, or the next? (Sesshomaru hides a smile, recalling the sword that awaits his son’s birthday to be claimed.)
Will my parents give me siblings, or have I already achieved the height of perfection in their eyes? (Kagura laughs boldly, but her smile is as soft as a feather as she runs a hand through her son’s hair.)
Which will be greater -- my father’s legacy, or my own? (The fortune teller cuts him off, her voice shaking as she tells him to please, please go away.)
-
It is not the first time that he has lost a child. But Sesshomaru could never say that the experience prepared him for the sight of the broken body stretched before them.
The panther king has shown little care in his work; Akinori’s limbs bend at competing angles, like a tree ravaged in a storm. His mokomoko lies limp in the grass, drenched with blood. Pink replaces the gold in his lifeless eyes.
The youth’s expression is peaceful; not that such a thing could bring comfort in this moment.
“Do something!” Kagura screams; the side of her fist connects with his shoulder. Her other arm drapes over their son’s mangled body, as though to shield the heart that sits still beneath the tattered ribs. “Bring him back!”
Jaken’s eyes meet Sesshomaru’s, frozen with horror. He knows exactly the memory playing in the kappa’s mind: The night of Akinori’s birth, where the child had come from Kagura’s body blue-faced and still. He hadn’t thought twice of wielding Tenseiga in that moment, while his wife was still lost in the throes of a final bloody contraction.
They had never told her -- had never thought it would matter.
“Sesshomaru! ” The raw desperation in her voice - that which she’s always managed to shield from him, before, even when begging for her own rescue - he can not bear it.
He stands, the blood and poison pouring from his own wounds forgotten. Jaken’s head bows at his silent command - stay with them.
-
The panther king’s demise is neither swift, nor merciful.
-
“Happy birthday, little brother.” Rin bends before the memorial stone, hands pressed flat together. The surface of the rock is not yet wind-worn, and it’s nice to finally have a place in the village where she can go to remember him.
Akinori’s true grave is at the peak of a tall mountain, chosen by his mother. Lord Sesshomaru searched for weeks to find it, and Rin has never felt comfortable asking him to take her.
She hasn’t seen Kagura or Jaken in years. Somehow, she believes they are together.
A breeze rustles against the back of Rin’s bare neck, tickling the strands of closely-cut hair at her nape. She hunches her shoulders in response, wondering not for the first time if Lady Kagura stays away because of her - knowing that Rin has escaped death twice, a prize that cannot be given to anyone else.
Could I trade one of my lives for yours, Akinori? To see you smile again?
She doesn’t want to judge; Rin has no children of her own, as much as she likes them.
Both hands fall to her side as she stands. Tonight, Lord Sesshomaru will arrive to sit with her. When Kohaku gets home, the three of them will drink, and talk about anything other than what is the only thing they can truly think about.
Rin’s glad he comes, instead of wandering the woods alone.
-
On the dark night of the winter solstice, something calls him to Akinori’s mountaintop.
Part of him (the weak part, the one that pulled him through the Meido in search of a lost wind goddess’ soul and made him want to smile when his brother pulled a girl out of the Bone-eater’s Well) doesn’t want to go. It’s easier to grieve on the ground, where he can walk a mere ten yards to find some creature to tear apart in order to calm his racing heart.
But he’s long past the days when he would ignore his instincts.
When his boots settle in the snow atop the grave’s peak, he sees that he is not alone.
“Lord Sesshomaru!” Tears flood Jaken’s eyes. He trips over the edge of the memorial stone in his hurry to bow. “How I’ve missed you!”
Kagura hunches her back and refuses to acknowledge him. Sesshomaru stands frozen - stunned that she and Jaken have remained together for this long without his servant’s demise, and at how little she has changed in the years since their last meeting.
“How is Rin? And Ah-Un? And Kohaku - oh, I’ve practically forgotten their foolish little faces!” Jaken continues to wail, waving the staff of two heads to emphasize the enormity of his struggles. Kagura clicks her tongue loudly, but the kappa soundly ignores her, and she tosses her head with a dramatic huff.
Sesshomaru resists the almost overpowering urge to embrace her. To do so would be foolish. The rejection would be swift and violent - most likely in the form of throwing him off the mountain. And why not? This particular failure of his has been the ultimate betrayal, far worse than simply allowing Naraku to destroy her. This had been a life she’d nurtured, suffered to bear - one she had cherished.
She swears under her breath in exhaustion, curling herself even tighter against his chest. Their newborn son is pressed safe between them, drooling against her collarbone.
“I wish he looked more like me,” she mumbles. “Ah, well. Spoiled little prince...”
“Lord Sesshomaru, forgive me for my impertinence, but...” Jaken steps back slowly, in preparation to avoid punishment. “Are you well?”
He supposes he is not. Food and rest seem rather pointless; times when he can slow down enough to breathe, are also opportunities for memories of his loss to seep in. Other than a few visits to his human wards, and one to his mother (which ended quickly enough, when she used the meeting to make an offer of condolences that he does not wish to accept), Sesshomaru has not engaged socially with another creature since that terrible day. Much of his time is spent as it was in his adolescence - wandering the earth, searching for beings to challenge.
It is not as fulfilling as it once was.
“Oi.”
He blinks slowly in surprise, before turning his gaze to Kagura. Arms crossed over her chest, his wife (if she can still be called that, several years after having abandoned each other) appraises him with a cold stare.
“It’s going to snow tonight.” She nods towards the graying clouds. “We have a cave nearby, if you want to spend the night.”
Jaken squawks, vocalizing the disbelief that Sesshomaru himself feels. Kagura’s face reddens.
“Only because you look like shit,” she spits, words cracking in the air like glass. “What would it do to your reputation, to keel over from a little storm?”
The insult smarts, as though she’s taken Bakusaiga in hand and thoroughly tenderized him with it. Sesshomaru used to be strong, proud. The kind of being that others would come to for help, long ago, only to be dismissed for his own purposes.
Now, he is simply a father with two children who have grown up, and one who never got the chance to.
Now, Kagura is the one who curls her lip and turns away.
-
Jaken fusses over him. It is a strangely welcome reminder of the old days. Kagura acts as though she doesn’t care, but it’s clear the two have developed a routine of sorts on their own - Jaken’s staff has place beside her fan, and they set up a small fire within the depth of the cave together without a single pause in their bickering.
The sense of unbelonging is uncomfortable. Sesshomaru sits as close to the entrance as he can, cold wind bearing against his back, to mute it.
“Eat this, my Lord!” Jaken bows his head, holding out a hunk of steaming meat. “There are tons of tasty creatures roaming around the mountains. It would be my pleasure to prepare as many as you’d like!”
He eats silently, ignoring the nausea that simmers under Kagura’s gaze. He does not know how to diffuse the unbearable tension between them, and so he will not try.
But when Jaken heads to the rear of the cave to sleep, there is no one else to put between them as a makeshift shield. And, despite his fervent prayers, Kagura does not leave her place on the opposite side of the fire.
It feels like centuries pass before she speaks.
“You left us.”
It’s three little words, but he knows exactly the moment of which she speaks. “I did.”
Outside, the wind screams as it drags snow from one side of the mountain and piles it against the other. Kagura pulls her kimonos tighter around her body, glaring into the fire.
He clears his throat. “I destroyed the panther king that day. Eradicated his tribe and his allies.”
She nods stiffly.
“And I have not known peace for a single moment in the past three years.”
Her eyes flick up. “Do you think that’s what I want to hear?”
“It is the truth.”
Fingers crush the edge of her sleeve in a fist. In one swift moment, she stands and marches over to his side of the fire. Sesshomaru braces himself in expectation for a fighting blow.
Her palms slide against the side of his face, thumbs resting against the spot where his skin purples. Up this close, he can see lines of grief darken under her eyes, as the fire’s shadows bounce against them. The purple crescent moon on the side of her neck, tattooed during their wedding ceremony, has turned blood-red in the light.
“This doesn’t mean I forgive you,” she murmurs.
Then, she wraps him in a tight embrace. Her heartbeat thuds loudly in his ears, drowning out the roar of the snowstorm outside.
He doesn’t know it yet, but for the first time in years, Kagura sleeps soundly through the night.
-
This doesn’t mean I forgive you.
She is wounded while razing a village, and does not object when Jaken calls him for aid.
This doesn’t mean I forgive you.
Sesshomaru travels to meet Kohaku on a slayer’s trip, and a gust of wind floats by his side the entire way.
This doesn’t mean I forgive you.
On the anniversary of the day Kagura lived again, they meet one another in an overgrown forest and don’t part ways until half a week later.
-
“Please?” Rin begs, tugging on Kagura’s arm. Though she’s well past the appropriate age for such childish actions, no one objects when she spends her parents’ visits practically glued to the wind witch’s side. “Lord Sesshomaru won’t tell me.”
“Ah.” Kagura glances over to where he stands in the corner, inspecting a weapon that Kohaku has mounted on the wall. “So you were listening to me, for once.”
“You said you wanted to keep it a secret,” he drones, carefully obscuring the relief that still arises in him that they can speak like this to one another, again. Things have progressed between them more than he could have ever imagined in the past few months; some days, he can almost believe that things will be like they were before.
Rin sighs in a long, guttural motion that sounds too much like his brother for Sesshomaru’s liking. “Please? Jaken said it was good news.”
“Oh, of course that stupid frog would be the one to--”
“Kaguraaaa.”
“Okay, fine.” The witch’s hand travels up to her hair, picking nervously at the feathers twisted into the base of her bun. “You’re going to have a sister by the time it’s autumn.”
Rin’s mouth drops; her head snaps over to where Lord Sesshomaru is trying very hard to look too busy to participate in the conversation. “What? But I thought you two were still--how did this even--” Her hands grip Kagura’s shoulders tightly. “Are you okay?”
He’s apprehensive about the same thing. When everything on Earth still reminds them of Akinori, would another child only bring fear and resentment into the picture? Only by some strange miracle had they salvaged what tragedy had broken - the stress of another birth could easily rupture the wound again.
“I’m okay.” Kagura shrugs in a poor attempt to hide her discomfort. “Definitely didn’t miss the morning sickness, though.”
Rin sticks to her even more closely after that.
-
Mirai is born during a storm, a week and two days earlier than she is supposed to arrive. Despite the timing, she is red-faced and lively, screaming from her mother’s arms the moment she can breathe.
When she is old enough, her parents will take her to meet her older sister, and the grave of her older brother. Her grandfather’s sword and her mother’s fan will be her sixteenth birthday gifts.
But for now, she rests in the crook of her mother’s arm, lulled asleep by the wind.
“She sure is loud,” Kagura mumbles, tracing a tiny ear with one finger. “Guess we should prepare for a sleepless winter.”
Sesshomaru hums wordlessly in agreement. As he shifts, to shield them both from the cold seeping through the nearby window, Kagura grabs his arm with her free hand.
“I don’t blame you anymore, by the way.” Her words slur with fatigue. “I haven’t for a long time.”
He could tell her that her forgiveness is not necessary to keep them together. That, regardless of what she does, he will always blame himself first and foremost.
Instead, Sesshomaru leans over to rest his chin atop her head. “Sleep, now.”
“Right, right.” Her eyes close, lips turning up in what is unmistakably a smile. “You better stay where you are, or else...”
He would not be able to step away if he wanted to.
I've enjoyed hosting this year's Sesskagu Week so far. This being the last day, I'm hoping you enjoyed it too.💞
And who knows, maybe the usual will do one later in the year through twitter.. as they had implied the possibility.
Either way I did my absolute best and am proud of myself. I spread it around to all the platforms I'm active in. So I hope it reached people who'd also enjoy it. There has been awesome response. My groups consist of 6 FB pages, Twitter, 2 Reddit, Pinterest, Pixiv, Deviantart and Tumblr. Let me tell you, it took awhile to share each picture but I took the time.🩷
