Chapter Text
It was like she had blinked.
She didn’t know when she’d lost her sight completely, but when it returned to her, it was no different than blinking. She didn’t feel her body, although she was sure she had one, but it didn’t bother her much. She was immersed in a world of white mist that curled softly around her, not attempting to cling to her limbs or invade her lungs. It was thin, airy, and smelled faintly of the earth after a summer storm.
Right. I’m dead.
She didn’t have any illusions of that. The memory of the naginata embedding itself into her was fresh, although she had no recollection of the pain. The mist around her shifted, and slowly, shapes began to form in the distance: mountaintops, some craggy and some rounded, all of them stretching off around her into the limitless horizon. The details were impossible to see behind the haze, but they were familiar to her. She’d seen this landscape before, but she never expected to find herself here again like this.
The border between. I guess it’s my turn to cross over now. Although, I don’t think I expected to actually have to walk.
Emiko turned in a slow circle, looking at herself as well as her surroundings. Her tsukesage had been returned to her body, which was whole and unblemished. She was starting to regain sensations in her legs, though they felt very muted; she was only barely aware of soft grass under her bare feet. She was in a valley, although she couldn’t remember seeing one of this size when they’d visited before, and it still didn’t explain why she was on the ground. The mist started to thin even further, revealing a sparse, dirt path that stretched out in front of her, ending at a small building a dozen yards away. She could smell ground matcha and heard the hiss of freshly boiled water. She hadn’t been sure what to expect, but finding herself standing in front of a roadside tea shop had not been it.
She was dead, though. There was no sense in not investigating. Whatever formed the border, it clearly wanted her to go here.
The dull, moss coated wood of the shop became clearer as she approached. There was only one bench sitting out front, and no other visitors, but she could hear someone moving around within. Just as she reached the entrance, the cloth covering it was brushed aside, and a woman stepped out. She was carrying a tray with two cups of tea sitting on it, and it wobbled a little when she saw Emiko standing in front of her. For a long moment, the two of them stared at each other; Emiko saw the shock in the woman’s russet brown eyes, but she didn’t seem surprised that she was there. She was a little shorter than her, with waves of inky black hair that curled at the ends. A small smattering of freckles dusted her soft cheeks, and she spotted a couple dotting her rather stuck-out ears.
She’d always been told how much she looked like her father. She had his eyes, his nose, the same sized mouth. Even now, looking at the woman before her, the similarities between the two of them were very subtle - her hair wasn’t even as curly as her own. But it was the scent of her that confirmed it, an unplaceable smell that filled her with warmth, like it was tugging on a long lost memory. She was acutely aware of the blood that ran through her veins and the beat of her heart, more than she’d be with anyone else.
“You’re my mother.”
The word sounded strange in her own ears. A small, uncertain smile spread across the woman’s face.
“It’s so nice to meet you at last, Emiko. I’m Mayumi.”
* * *
Sesshōmaru heard the shriek of the phoenix before the body fell.
The gates of the human fortress loomed before him in the saturated light of the golden hour, the old wood cracked and splintered, and only halfway closed. The gap was wide enough to allow two people through shoulder by shoulder - hardly a fortified enclosure. But that didn’t seem to be the intention. It felt more like it had been meant as a hideout, to avoid suspicion. The ruin was deep in the forest and only a few miles from the shoreline, easy to miss. He stopped on the overgrown road leading up to the entrance just long enough to cast a critical eye over the structure before he pulled Tōkijin back. With an effortless swipe, the blade spat out a barrage of blue yōki that slammed into the wood, exploding the gates with a loud boom. He watched the deadly debris rain down impassively, waiting until it had settled before he continued forward.
The idea that Naraku’s miserable incarnations had spent days huddling inside of this settlement disgusted him. The hanyō’s cowardice was reflected in that of his creations.
An ear-splitting cry reverberated from the air above him, causing him to halt in his tracks. The sound was almost human, a scream of mortal agony he had not heard in an animal. Sesshōmaru looked up to see Keiko plummeting toward him, her wings curled uselessly around her. He didn’t wait for her to reach him; he stuck Tōkijin in the ground and leapt up to catch the phoenix, tucking her into the crook of his elbow.
“What is it?”
Keiko made no noise - as he watched, her feathers were losing their vibrant color, and for a brief moment, it looked as if she was dead. But then, she stirred, managing a weak chirp and turning her dulled eyes toward him.
He did not like what he saw in them. The grief. The utter despair. The sight twisted uneasily in his stomach, like a fish caught in a trap.
Emiko.
He could not stop her name from rising to his mind, just as he could not stop the growing realization that her fate was sealed. Wordlessly, he placed Keiko on his shoulder, and she bundled herself against his neck while he withdrew Tōkijin. Up until this point, there had been every reason to rush forward, cognizant of each second that was lost. He didn’t think he needed to hurry now. Keiko’s reaction had made that very clear.
I reached her too late, hm?
The inside of the fortress had sustained massive fire damage once upon a time. His boots would be smeared with black by the time he left. Keiko wasn’t leading the way anymore, but he could smell Emiko now, along with vast amounts of her blood. He followed the main road through the center of the town and up the winding path, toward a house that was tucked against the final switchback corner, nestled amongst an overgrown garden. When he reached the gate, the shōji slid open, and a boy stepped out. He was not much taller than Rin, but older - his face was starting to lose the softness of childhood. His clothes were soaked in a deep red; some of it was his own, but most of it was rich with Emiko’s scent. When he saw him, the boy tilted his head to one side.
“Well. This is unexpected.”
Sesshōmaru didn’t bother to reply. Without a doubt, this was one of Naraku’s incarnations, but it was unlike the others he had seen. The boy winced and reached for a metal spike that was sticking out of the side of his head. He wrenched it free and tossed it to the side, and Sesshōmaru watched the gaping hole close back up in a ripple of pale, pasty flesh.
“You must be Sesshōmaru,” the child continued. The only sign of life he exhibited was the hint of perpetual amusement in his voice, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, although I can’t say I had planned to. I am Hakudōshi, Naraku’s incarnation.”
“I do not care for such trivialities.”
The boy snickered, “No, I suppose you don’t, do you?”
He shifted the naginata that was held in his right hand so that it was tucked behind his back, “Naraku told me that you are a demon of stone, Sesshōmaru. Surely, you’re not here to save such a lowly creature as a half-demon, are you? That goes against your nature.”
‘A lowly creature’. He had thought the same of hanyōs plenty of times, but the teasing tone Hakudōshi took had his grip tightening on Tōkijin’s hilt. He did not like the way the boy spoke - it was light, impish almost, threaded with a disdain that slipped under his skin far too easily. He narrowed his eyes at him.
“Do not presume my actions. I merely came to destroy the plague that Naraku places upon the earth. That is all.”
“Is that so? An appropriately self-serving goal. Naraku is not here, obviously, but I am. Do you wish to kill me, as well?”
Normally, he cared little for the incarnations. They were obstacles at best, intended to hinder him from reaching his real goal. Killing this child now would do little in the way of harming Naraku. But permanently ridding himself of his presence was a very appealing prospect, and he responded to the question by swinging his sword and emitting a large beam of yōki. Hakudōshi did not try to dodge the attack; it slammed into the pink barrier that sprung up right in front of him, causing the yōki to slide off of the invulnerable surface, spilling across the garden and narrowly missing the house behind him. When the attack faded, the child was there, unharmed, encased in his protection. A little laugh reached Sesshōmaru’s ears.
“You have a heart of ice, after all. How cruel of you: if that had hit me, you would have destroyed something precious.”
Hakudōshi rose further into the air, still grinning mockingly down at him. He watched the boy move out of reach, lifting his naginata into the air like a beacon. From somewhere within the craggy rock of the mountain came the whinny of a horse, and a fiery yōkai emerged in the blink of an eye, appearing by his side.
“You should be grateful, Sesshōmaru. I’ve taken care of a nuisance to both of us. Until we meet again.”
His barrier dissipated, and he landed onto the horse’s broad back. Sesshōmaru didn’t bother trying to strike them as they took off back to the West in a rush of flames; he watched them disappear, focusing on quelling the ire that had started to push against the cage of his chest. He had expected that the boy would be protected, and that he would deflect his yōki. He had wanted to make his intentions clear, nothing more.
Although, he would not have considered it a disappointment if he had managed to shred such an insufferable being to pieces.
The phoenix still huddled against him let out a tiny warble. He made a noise of disdain at his foe’s escape and sheathed Tōkijin back into his obi. Naraku had not appeared, thus, it was a waste of energy to chase after the child. His attention was drawn back to the house before him, sitting innocently in a small patch of orange light, picturesque in its abandoned, vine-covered state. It reeked of blood, enough that it would overwhelm a lesser yōkai than he. He heard no movement inside, caught no sound of a beating heart or an unsteady breath. Slowly, he approached it, lifting his hand for the shōji. For a brief moment, he hesitated; then, in a swift movement, he pulled it open.
He had known what he would find inside, but even he had not realized just how gruesome of a scene Hakudōshi had left behind. The house had been bisected by a divider at one point, but that had been knocked over by the evident scuffle that had occurred. Two tables were before him: one, covered in apothecary instruments, the other covered in used torture tools. There were two gouges in the wall to his left, and it was there where the wood was stained the deepest crimson. The floor was slick with blood, and footprints were scattered about, two sets of bare feet that trailed their way to the back of the house where he saw her slumped form. The candles that were burning low on their wicks did not offer much illumination in the depths of the shadows, so he pushed the shōji all of the way open and stepped aside to let what little light remained in.
The sight of her made his eyes widen. She was propped up by the wall at her back, but her head had dipped forward, clumps of red hair curtaining her face. He could see the massive holes in her palms, a second spike balanced upon lifeless fingers. Her body had been... desecrated. Kanji had been carved repetitively into her arms, and her abdomen had been nearly eviscerated, dotted with holes and fine lines, ready for the skin to be peeled away. With the way her arms slumped, at least one of her shoulders was dislocated. Red, gleaming muscle could be seen from where it had been exposed along her collarbones and neck. She had been played with, like a cat that played with its food. There was no pattern to the injuries, her body had not been brutalized with a goal in mind - it had been poked and prodded for fun until death was necessary. Nothing more.
For one of the few times in his life, Sesshōmaru found himself unable to move. He did not like that he could not see her face, her expression, but he couldn’t bring himself to take another step. His gaze was locked on her corpse, searching it, finding a new injury the longer he stared. Death suffocated the inside, making the air feel thick and humid. Even if Emiko had managed to succeed in escaping, she would not have been long for this world. Not in the state she was in.
The thud of heels striking the dirt approached him. He had moved mostly out of the way of the entrance, but Inuyasha made sure to shove his elbow into his arm to push past him as he barged into the house.
“Emik–!”
He choked and jolted to a stop at the sight. The interruption was enough to break Sesshōmaru’s locked up state and he glanced over at his half-brother, who had a hand clasped over his mouth and nose. His body was trembling, his face draining rapidly of any color. From behind the cloth of his sleeve, his voice leaked through.
“Emiko... Emiko!”
Saying her name seemed to snap him back to action. Inuyasha ran into the room and fell to his knees next to her body, grabbing at her. Sesshōmaru felt that twisting in his stomach once again as Emiko’s head lolled loosely to the side. Inuyasha was shaking her as if he could somehow rouse her, repeating her name louder and louder, but the futility of it was obvious. She would not wake.
She would not come back.
He could smell the others arriving. It was the priestess who reached the house first, her words dying on her lips as she hurried her way inside, oblivious to what was right in front of her.
“Inuyasha, did you find–?”
She cried out in horror and covered her mouth with her hands. The monk and the Demon Slayer had been right behind her, and were much faster at realizing the situation before them. The monk was the one to place a hand over the kitsune’s eyes, hurriedly gathering the kit into him.
“Do not look.”
The kit tried to question him in a timid voice, but he was only held closer to the monk’s robes. The intention was pointless, but Sesshōmaru felt no need to point it out - the kitsune’s nose was just as sharp as his own, his hearing perhaps even better. He did not need to see to understand what was happening.
Pointless. Yet he had no doubt he would do the same, if Rin had come with him.
Rin... his ward would be devastated. She had been so worried for the hanyō’s health, and had spent plenty of time being the one to care for her while she had recovered from her poisoning at Mount Hakurei. More times than he liked, she had seen a beloved guardian become wounded for her sake, and it had instilled a constant concern for Emiko’s safety.
Her fear was for good reason.
The priestess had sunk to the floor, trembling violently. His half-brother was hardly in a better condition; his shoulders had also started to shake. He was hunched protectively over Emiko’s body, clinging tightly to it, and his voice was tight and hoarse with pent up grief when he managed to speak.
“She was supposed to come back. She always did. We were supposed to watch out for each other. And now, she’s– Emiko’s–”
He could not seem to finish. Instead, he ducked his head and screamed in anguish, the noise pressing upon Sesshōmaru’s ears so forcefully that he closed his eyes to try and block it out.
“DAMMIT!”
* * *
The steam wisped off of the top of the tea that was sitting in front of Emiko, mingling with the mist that still threaded its way around her ankles and through the grass underneath her. She found herself getting caught up in watching it, and dragged her focus back to the woman sitting across from her, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment when she found Mayumi gazing at her. They hadn’t spoken since they’d gotten settled on the bench some time ago... or, had it only been a minute ago? Time was difficult to determine in a liminal space like this.
Then again, what did time matter anymore, anyway? She was dead, she didn’t have a schedule to stick to.
But she was very aware of the awkward silence that had stretched between them, and how it remained unbroken. It felt awful to admit to herself that she hadn’t even thought about meeting her mother in the afterlife, and now she was sitting right in front of her.
Should she have hugged her earlier? Or bowed? Cried? Mostly, she felt nervous. But they wouldn’t get anywhere if she didn’t try to say something.
Emiko took one, final excuse to stay silent by taking a sip of her tea, wetting her lips and letting the hot liquid clear her throat. She swallowed and set the cup down.
“I–”
“Emiko–”
Their colliding words sent them both stuttering to a stop. Emiko grimaced and Mayumi chuckled softly.
“I’m sorry. You go first.”
She cupped her hands around the tea mug, feeling a twinge of relief when the hot ceramic didn’t burn her skin. She had wondered if she had lost her abilities when she died. It was silly to consider when she could still sense her own yōki as clearly as she had in life, but the notion had lingered regardless.
“I’m sorry that my reaction at meeting you hasn’t been very... I don’t know. I don’t feel as if I’m responding as a daughter should.”
Mayumi gave her a warm smile, “Don’t feel bad. There aren’t any expectations, not on my end, at least. I might be your mom, but you don’t know me.”
Emiko saw her thumbs press on top of each other, her fingers laced together. Mayumi chewed on the inside of her lip and looked to the side for a long moment. She was thinking, considering her words, and Emiko found herself holding her breath.
“Speaking of which... I know it might not mean much to hear, but I... I am so sorry that I wasn’t able to be there for you, Emiko.”
When their eyes met again, hers were starting to shimmer. Emiko could smell the saltwater.
“I’m sorry that we never got the chance to meet, and that you grew up without a mother. That wasn’t fair to you. It’s the only thing I’ve been able to think about since I left you, the first thing I wanted to say to you when we finally met. I wish I could make up for it.”
She found her throat unexpectedly closing up and her heart felt like it was being squeezed. Mayumi reached her hands across the table in a gesture very similar to Maeko’s own attempts to comfort, and it was automatic to put her hand in her palms. It took her a moment to get her voice to work, to ask the question she’d once clung to like an anchor when she was a pup.
“Did you know? That you weren’t going to make it?”
Mayumi shook her head, “I didn’t. My mother birthed my older brother and myself without problems, and I knew my grandmother in my youth. My frailty was unexpected.”
She closed her fingers around Emiko’s hand and squeezed. There were callouses on the pads and bases of them.
“And no, it wasn’t because you were a half-demon, either. A lot can happen when you’re pregnant, and we had gone through a rough winter that had stripped me of more of my body’s strength than I had recognized. It wasn’t until I went into labor that my survival became uncertain.”
Emiko nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She had thought that she had put the old grudge behind her, that it had been the frustrated mourning of a child trying to understand her place in the world. But receiving the answer she’d long given up on had tears pressing on the backs of her eyes.
“I... I’d been mad at you,” she rasped out, “For a time, when I was younger. I thought you’d abandoned me on purpose.”
A few of Mayumi’s tears escaped her and trickled down her cheeks. She gripped her hand tighter.
“I figured that that wasn’t true, once I was old enough to rationalize it. But it’s... it’s good to know. Thank you.”
She returned her watery smile with a less-than-stable one of her own. The silence that fell between them this time was easier to sit in.
“You know, I’m starting to realize that I don’t actually know much about you,” she finally said, “I asked father how you two met, and he told me about your climb to the top of the volcano. I’d asked him why he loved you. But I didn’t ask him much about your life.”
“Would you like me to tell you?”
“I would. I noticed you’re wearing a hakama - were you a warrior?”
“I was, yes. Do you know much about my village?”
“Not really. I was supposed to go there when... well...”
Mayumi’s thumb brushed across her knuckles in an attempt to soothe. Emiko did find the touch comforting. She started to chew on the inside of her cheek again as she sorted through whatever was going on in her head.
“It’s not a city town, as I’m sure you know, but it was always well off. We were the closest residence to your father’s home, which was fondly referred to as ‘the lair of the beast’ by those my age, which meant that we were quite a distance from other human settlements. Trade wasn’t easy.”
“Was trade necessary?”
“Not for us. The land we lived on was prosperous. We’d send a handful of people out to take one or two trips a year to sell our goods; we had many who were skilled in textiles that we’d barter for needed items.”
She released Emiko’s hand to take a sip of her tea, which reminded her that she had her own. She took a drink as well as Mayumi continued.
“The practice of training both men and women to be warriors came from our history with an old, noble family, or so I was always told. I don’t know if the line died out, or they left, but while I was alive, we only had their manor standing as proof that they existed. Of course, the women were probably samurai back then.”
Her gaze had gotten misty, lost in longing, and Emiko saw a glimpse of that fire her father had always said she burned so bright with.
“We didn’t get that chance, but we were trained with weapons and fitted with armor. We didn’t have to fear attacks by yōkai, but there was always the chance that roving bandits or mercenaries would see our village as easy pickings. Your father was the protector of our lands, but he couldn’t stop every bad thing that happened.”
Emiko felt like the question was obvious, but she asked it anyway, “Did you want to be a fighter?”
Mayumi nodded, “It was my dream for as long as I could remember. Of course, I wanted to be a general at the head of a grand army, keeping the peace and protecting civilians, but that’s not a feasible option when you’re a peasant girl hidden away in the woods.”
She gave Emiko a mischievous grin, and just like that, she felt like she was looking into a mirror. That was an expression that she knew she wore often.
“It didn’t stop me from being ambitious, though. I was full of a lot of pride when I was young, and that pride is what caused me to meet your father.”
“Your pride did?”
“It started with a dare.”
Emiko placed her hands back around her tea mug and leaned into it a little, finding herself eager to listen. Mayumi folded her hands back together, letting them shift around. She seemed to need to keep them busy.
“I was four years out of training, and all of the ego was still in my head. I enjoyed taking the night rounds, and two of my friends and I used the time to play ban-sugoroku and dream about what impossible things could happen to us that would make us legends. One night, we started talking about the nearby ‘lair of the beast’, and eventually, we brought up the myth that if you reached the top of his volcano, you could see into another world that existed inside.”
Mayumi smiled down at her hands, “Of course, I said I’d prove the myth was real and climb the volcano myself. They both chickened out, told me it was madness to provoke a great demon by crawling all over his home, but I was sure I could do it without getting caught. I gave myself the quest, and decided that each morning at dawn, I’d try the climb.”
“So that’s how it started,” Emiko murmured, feeling a little smile of her own pull at her mouth.
“Did he ever tell you how long it took? I’m sure he didn’t, yōkai are terrible at remembering the passage of time.”
She shook her head and Mayumi held up a finger.
“One month. For one month, every day while the sun rose, I tried to climb that mountain. It’s not as easy for a human to scale even a soft peak like that one, and I could only climb for so long before I had to return to the village so I wouldn’t get caught. Each time, I got a little higher, and I got better at climbing faster. Of course, I didn’t know that the whole time, the ‘beast’ himself was watching.”
This part of the story Emiko had heard, “Father always told me that he was very confused with what you were doing. He’d never heard the myth before.”
Mayumi laughed and shook her head, “I’m not surprised. But honestly, when I made it to the top and looked through the quartz into the mountain below... Well, you’ve seen your home. It might not have been another world, but to me, it truly looked like one.”
Emiko traced the rim of her cup with her finger, “It looks less like one now. I haven’t taken care of it as I should have after all of these years. It wasn’t easy to visit.”
“You shouldn’t blame yourself for that, Emiko. Most of your childhood was stripped from you. I’m just...”
She hesitated, then reached out to her again. Emiko was happy to take her hands, looking at the differences in the shapes of their nails as her mother spoke.
“I’m glad to see that you’ve found people to care for you after all of this time. Your years with the boy, Inuyasha, the family you’ve made during your journeys... At least you had someone to look out for you.”
Emiko could feel the tears threatening to form again, so she blinked a few times to force them back. She interlaced their fingers together.
“Father taught me well. And I think you taught him, too, and I’m grateful for that. Even though I didn’t meet you before, I knew you’d made him... better.”
The strength of her words wavered a little, and when she looked up, she could see Mayumi trying desperately not to cry. For the first time, she noticed a small scar on her bottom lip, tucked along the underside of it. While she had never imagined what a conversation between the two of them would be like, she felt this one soothing her soul in a way she could have only hoped for.
The mist around them stirred. The bell hanging on the eave of the shop let out a faint chime. Emiko glanced around them at the trees that kept drifting in and out of focus, and the mountains that were still no more than finger-like shadows in the distance. As the surprise of meeting her mother had faded, a different curiosity was taking its place.
“May– Mother...”
The term tripped off of her tongue, fitting oddly in her mouth, but she decided that she liked it nonetheless. Judging by the way Mayumi’s eyes lit up, she must have enjoyed hearing it, too.
“Mother, why did you meet me at the border to the afterlife? I would’ve crossed over to see you and father all the same - why have I stopped here?”
“That is an important question. And as much as I want to sit and talk with you for ages, we don’t have the time. Not yet, anyway.”
Mayumi released her and straightened her shoulders. Although her smile remained, her voice grew stern and clear, and Emiko could easily picture her snapping orders at a line of soldiers. She must have practiced it.
“Emiko, your soul is hovering on the edge of the afterlife because you will have a choice soon, and your decision will greatly impact yourself and those you love. So, let’s talk about your options.”
* * *
The light of the day was weakening. The sun was hanging low over the treetops in the west, pulling the dark blue threads of night across the eastern horizon. There were a few hours left, perhaps, until night fell completely, and until it did, the world would remain soaked in bloodied, orange hues.
Sesshōmaru found that fitting. The fortress surrounding him had known nothing but bloodshed, after all.
His boots touched down on the plateau, and the Tenseiga began to shiver in its sheath. He quelled its agitation with a touch, murmuring to the katana as he took in the remains of what must have once been a ritual site.
“Cease. I know that this is the place.”
It hadn’t been difficult to find where the fire that had destroyed this settlement began. He had started his search not too long ago. He was not entirely sure why he hadn’t left yet; his half-brother had taken off not long after they had discovered Emiko’s body, leaving his pack to take her out of this place. He could smell them not too far away, near a creek or a stream. Inuyasha was much further off, and even still, he could hear the sounds of the Wind Scar wreaking havoc on the landscape.
She would have been irate that the fool was tearing up her lands. The Eastern lands, which now lay unguarded, with no successor to look to.
The heads of the North and South will be eager to discuss this development.
His gaze fell to the only patch of unblemished rock near the back of the plateau. It was small, the perfect size for a child no older than Rin to be crouched. It was difficult to tell if it was merely his mind, or if it was something more, but Sesshōmaru could see Emiko as a child huddled there, clad in that same pink and brown yukata he had met her in years before. She was flanked by two, faceless human soldiers in armor, her expression horrified and her cheeks tear-stained. The image of her doubled over and let out a shrill scream, erased in a huge ball of imaginary flame that dissolved around him.
It was here that she had released her daiyōkai blood for the first time, risking the loss of her sanity for the sake of mass desolation. It was also here that the great Inu no Kasai was killed by the ancestor of the human who had created Naraku. Where everything began.
Sesshōmaru reached for the sword that was sitting on his right hip and pulled it out, holding it aloft. Hinoseishin remained lifeless in his grasp, no flames lighting its surface. The blade gleamed, sharpened and polished as if it had only been forged the day before. She took great care to preserve the heirloom. It was a symbol of her claim to the East, and the piece that remained of the father she’d tried so desperately to become.
Such foolishness. As if a hanyō could have ever reached the heights of power that a daiyōkai possessed. She had always been too bold, too reckless; he had known since their first meeting that her rash actions would lead to her death. He had told her as such time and time again - each time, she had brushed it aside, had merely laughed and agreed with his prediction.
His grip on the hilt tightened. Impudent.
“Ass.”
Such a childish rebuttal, yet he had gotten accustomed to it. He had expected it - just as he had expected her to remain a persistent presence. He had found it uncomfortable for her to linger around him when he had healed her at Mount Hakurei. Yet, what was more uncomfortable to him was how quickly he had grown used to her. It had progressed to the point that he even disliked her unfortunate knack for getting injured, especially when he was there. He hadn’t dwelled much on the realization he’d come to while fighting Sō'unga: his interest in protecting her. To think that he, Sesshōmaru, would want to protect a hanyō was...
And still, he had failed. She had died alone. Had she believed that anyone would come for her? That he–
A useless question. It did not matter - he had not saved her.
He hadn’t realized that he was holding Hinoseishin so tightly that his knuckles were white, nor that his jaki had started to slip out of his control. Toxic miasma was starting to cut through the blackened rock, sending thin lines of deadly fumes into the air. Sesshōmaru closed his eyes, focusing on drawing it back into him. He had not been this careless since the night Naraku had escaped his clutches by holding Rin hostage.
Naraku...
His failures aside, it was Naraku who was the cause of this. His pathetic fixation on a mere hanyō had resulted in this convoluted scheme to end her life. The thought of him delighting over this supposed victory had anger slicing through his chest like a hot knife, unexpected and unavoidable. He could hear the growl softly starting to build in his throat and his brow furrowed in irritation. He opened his eyes and returned Hinoseishin to his obi, finding his attention fixed once more on the untouched spot of rock. What weighed on his mind in that moment was always going to present itself, yet he mulled it over anyway.
Was he really going to use the Tenseiga on a hanyō?
Every time he had used the sword of life before, there had been a purpose to it. He had tested its capabilities on Rin, for his own curiosity and as recompense for her attempts to tend to his wounds. He had used it on Goshinki so that Tōkijin could be forged. He had used it on the otter yōkai the day before because Tenseiga had prompted him to, and that act had given him a lead on Naraku’s intentions. Each time, it had been for his benefit, no one else’s. To use it on Emiko now...
What would that gain him?
The immediate answer was to thwart Naraku’s plan. He relied so heavily on breaking the curse that connected the two of them, that reviving her would only bring him misery. That prospect was tempting enough, but he also knew that Rin’s grief would be beyond measure if he did not return Emiko to her. The child saw her as a second guardian. After all of the suffering she had seen Emiko endure for her sake, to learn of her death would crush her. He was not capable of offering her the comfort she would need in such a case.
Both were acceptable enough. But he also knew that the decision he’d made had already been solidified even before he dwelled on it, because he wanted her back. The desire was building within him the longer he stood there, pressing upon his ribcage and forming a hard knot of lead within his stomach.
I want her back.
He couldn’t answer why. He did not know what he gained with her life. But he knew that Naraku did not deserve to be the one to strike her down, and that he could not accept such an outcome. He did not care to think deeper about it.
The sun was halfway behind the trees now. There was not much time until the light of day vanished. He turned on his heel and pushed off into the air, heading in the direction of his bastard brother’s pack.
* * *
Emiko stared at her mother, her tea forgotten, wracking her brain to put the pieces together before she went any further. She wasn’t an expert in dying, but she had a feeling that she wasn’t following the usual path.
A choice... She was stuck on the border until she made that choice. Did that mean–?
“Are you saying I have a chance to live again?”
“I’m saying you’ll be given the opportunity, yes.”
“But, how?”
“You tell me, Emiko. Is there no one you’ve left behind who might be able to bring you back?”
She opened her mouth to reply, then paused. She’d given her an easy answer, but it only created more questions.
“I just don’t understand why he’d do that. He doesn’t... I’m not...”
Mayumi was giving her a fond, amused look that she didn’t think she liked, “Maybe you can ask him, then, if you choose to return.”
She felt the heat that was starting to rise to her skin fall away, “That’s the choice? I don’t have to go back?”
“No. When a soul is ready to pass on, not even a sword like Tenseiga can return it to the body.”
She held up her hands as Emiko opened her mouth to ask, “I haven’t just spent time with your father. I never met Inu no Taishō while I was alive, but those two are practically joined at the hip these days. You should hear them sometimes, they’re ridiculous...”
The way her voice dropped to an almost grumble had Emiko snickering, pushing back the nervousness that was threatening to overtake her. Mayumi flashed her another teasing grin.
“I know a few things. And I was given some important information to share with you when I volunteered to come meet you at the border.”
Her expression faltered, her eyes clouding, “I know you would’ve preferred to see your father first. That’s one of the reasons I was chosen - I got to finally meet you, and you wouldn’t make your decision with extreme bias.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe I’m wrong, Emiko, but if it was your father who had joined you here, do you really think you’d go back?”
Emiko stared down at the mug in front of her. Her father had been the last person she’d thought of when she died, and she had been so relieved at the idea of seeing him again. She could see her own reflection in the tea that remained in the cup, her features dark and unreadable, and she lifted her gaze back up to meet her mother’s. She didn’t need to speak for Mayumi to understand.
“That’s what I thought. And you would get to see him again if you decide to pass on. But also remember that death is forever. He’ll be waiting for you, no matter how long it takes. You know that, right?”
With the way Emiko could feel herself starting to choke up, she knew it was dangerous to speak. She just nodded, and relief eased the hard lines of Mayumi’s ‘stern’ expression.
“Good. Now, I have another aspect of this for you to consider.”
She reached into her hakama and pulled out a small object, holding it up for Emiko to inspect. It appeared to be a small, pearlescent egg that was practically vibrating with energy that was very familiar to her. It wasn’t yōki - it was far more pure, almost heavenly.
“Is that... a phoenix egg?”
“It’s the representation of one, yes.”
She deposited it into Emiko’s palm for her to examine, continuing as she did so, “You may be a dog demon, but your phoenix, Keiko, has chosen the Eastern dog demons as her family since the birth of this island. The territory of the rising sun is hers. You’ve been blessed by her, and as such, you can receive gifts from her kin.”
Emiko rolled the egg gingerly between her fingers. It felt more like an oblong ball of writhing energy, but the perceived shell was yard and unyielding.
“So, what would this gift be?”
“A gift of strength. You would be rising from the ashes much as they do if you decide to live again. It’s only right that you gain power from this ordeal. Live, and you’ll find that your fire might be able to do more than just burn your enemies.”
That was a very appealing offer. Nothing satisfied her more than the thought of surprising Naraku with greater power. She hadn’t even considered her greatest foe in the time she’d been here up until now. Naraku... Onigumo... they’d gotten their way, in the end. They’d finally gotten the chance to kill her and break the red string of fate that bound them together. With her and Kikyō gone, the smug prick probably thought he had nothing standing in his way.
That also reminded her that the final jewel shard was potentially here, with her in the border. Emiko nearly leapt to her feet to look around, but just as quickly dismissed the urge. As much as she wished, she had no way to find the shard. She didn’t have Kagome’s powers, and the border was huge, maybe even limitless. She was out of luck.
Mayumi was watching her fidget patiently, but the way she was smiling at her made it clear that she thought she knew what the answer was. The more Emiko considered it, the more she knew she was right. She had so many people she needed to protect, who she had sworn to do her best to guard. And she couldn’t let Naraku have the final say, not like this.
She couldn’t even imagine how much Inuyasha might be suffering right now. Rin might be, too... she didn’t know how long she’d been dead. Were they okay? Was her best friend making stupid decisions in his grief? She needed to be there for him. He didn’t deserve any more pain.
“How do I accept this gift and return?”
There was a whirlwind of emotions passing across Mayumi’s face, but she answered her calmly, “Swallow the egg I gave you, and you’ll gain the power you’re looking for.”
Emiko blinked at her, “Swallow it?”
“I’m afraid so. It’s not that big, you won’t choke.”
“That’s not really what I’m worried about, I just... didn’t expect that.”
She eyed the egg with a bit more trepidation, but brought it slowly to her lips. She glanced at Mayumi one more time to make sure this wasn’t a prank before she slipped the smooth object into her mouth and swallowed. It did slide down easily, and the instant it made contact with her insides, she felt a heat start to build and spread through her at a rapid rate. It was so hot it was teetering on the edge of painful; with a gasp, she placed her palms on the wood of the table, bracing herself. But right as it reached her fingertips, the heat faded away, leaving her pleasantly tingly and suddenly very alert.
“See?” Mayumi remarked, “Not too bad.”
Emiko scrunched her mouth at her, “You say that like you’ve done this before.”
“Oh, I definitely haven’t. I just assumed it wouldn’t be a problem.”
She almost wanted to tell her that she sucked, but it didn’t feel right to tease her mother. She didn’t know how she’d react. Instead, she slowly straightened back up and let out a breath, rolling her shoulders.
“Okay, I did it. Now what?”
Mayumi leaned forward and propped her chin on the backs of her hands, “Now, we wait until your hero finally uses his sword. He’s taking his time, that’s for sure.”
That flush Emiko had felt before threatened to return, “He’s not my ‘hero’. I still don’t believe he’s actually going to do this.”
Mayumi hummed disbelievingly, “His father seemed pretty certain about it. His name is Sesshōmaru, right?”
“Yeah, it is... So, Inu no Taishō is still watching him.”
Emiko frowned, not sure if she was more alarmed or confused, “Wait, he was certain that he was going to revive me? Why?”
“Well, they may be great generals, but Inu no Kasai and Inu no Taishō are still dads. They like to hope for the best for their children, and they seem very proud of the relationship that’s developed between you two.”
“If that means that they’re glad we’ve stopped trying to kill each other, I guess I can understand that.”
“It’s definitely more than that.”
Mayumi sighed and shook her head when Emiko just gave her a bewildered shrug, “I won’t get into it. Like I said, they can both be ridiculous. But! I do want to hear more about this ‘Sesshōmaru’. I only get some of the story from them, I want to hear your side. It sounds like you both have history?”
She had to have spent time with Maeko while she was alive, with the way she was wiggling her eyebrows at her. Emiko rolled her eyes at her and resigned herself to settling back into her seat. They were both just waiting now, and this was the last chance she’d have to talk to her mother in a very long time. She wanted to enjoy it.
At least while it lasted.
“I guess, if you want, I can tell you how our feud got started?”
“I’d be curious to know about that, but what I want to know more is what made you give him a second chance.” Mayumi leaned forward eagerly, “I want to know why you’re friends now. What is it that you like about him?”
Emiko sputtered, a bit taken aback by the broad line of questioning, “I– Well– I’ll see what I can do to answer that.”
She got an eager nod in reply. The tea was cold now, but she sipped it anyway while she gave herself a minute to think. When was it that her opinion of Sesshōmaru started to shift? It all seemed so long ago now.
“I think the change started when he adopted a human child...”
* * *
Inuyasha’s pack had stopped right alongside the bank of the lazily moving stream that was only a hundred yards or so from the gates of the fortress. He did not land in the middle of them; he found a place to touch down between the trees and made his way to the edge of their camp, allowing his senses to tell him what had happened while they’d been out of his sight. He could still hear weeping - the kit, by the sound of it - and the scent of saltwater was nearly outweighing the smell of the blood, which had significantly diminished. It was only when he stepped from behind the trees and into their small patch of open grass that he saw what their efforts had created.
Emiko’s body was stretched out close to the stream, covered by a kimono that smelled like the Demon Slayer. It had been cleaned of most of the blood that had soaked it before, revealing her grey skin, which looked sickly in the twilight. The wounds were still raw and fresh, her displaced shoulder was still out of its socket, but she was at least clean. The priestess was crouched by the creek, wringing out a rag that was dyed a ruddy brown, and the Demon Slayer was kneeling by the corpse, pushing strands of her hair out of her face. The phoenix was curled up next to her head, her feathers still dull, and her head buried between her wings. The weeping kit was still in the possession of the monk, who was sitting nearby, murmuring a human chant while he consoled the child.
They were preparing the body for burial. There was little else they could do, after all, weak as they were.
All activity stopped when he appeared. He ignored them and approached the body, sensing their anxieties rise the closer he got. It was finally the Demon Slayer who broke the tense silence.
“What do you want?”
She had her hands on Emiko’s head, glaring at him as if she had some absurd notion that she would protect her. He slid his attention over to her, his jaki curling around him in response to the way that her heart skipped with fear when he looked at her.
“Leave.”
The woman’s hands curled into fists. The priestess was walking toward them, the dripping rag still clutched in her hands, her big eyes darting from him, to the corpse, to the rest of her companions.
“Why?” the Demon Slayer spat, “What do you want with her?”
He had no interest in answering her. She was being obstinate now, of all of the times, and he wouldn’t waste his breath. He looked at the priestess, and she stopped, startled.
“I will not repeat myself again: Leave.”
She was searching his face, looking for answers, trying to decipher his intentions, and it was tiring. He allowed her to gaze at him for several, long seconds, before she nodded and shuffled toward the woman in front of her. Her voice was hoarse, likely from grieving.
“Guys... let’s do what he says.”
“Lady Kagome,” the monk began, “Are you–?”
“Mhm. I’m sure.”
She reached down to the Demon Slayer, who whipped around to her in disbelief.
“Kagome, I don’t think this is a good idea. We don’t know what he–”
“I know, but he deserves to spend a moment with her, too. Give him a chance, Sango.”
It was taking every ounce of patience Sesshōmaru possessed to allow them to have this ludicrous debate. Slowly, with many glances back at him, the priestess gathered the other humans and scooped up the phoenix, handing her to the Slayer. One by one, they slipped into the bushes and back toward the fortress, emptying the camp until it was just him and the body before him.
The stillness that fell over the woodland was a tranquil one. He was able to examine her now, without such nuisances about. Her deathly complexion made the many freckles that dotted her skin stand out, dark against such pallid flesh. The areas where her muscle was exposed was far too bright of a red. But more than any of her physical wounds, it was her expression that stirred up an immediate irritation within him. He hadn’t seen it before - how peaceful she looked. Even now, he half expected her to wake and sit up, giving him some ridiculous line about how she could ‘handle herself’. Instead, she looked content. Happy, even.
He did not accept that.
He drew Tenseiga and held it out to the side. The world darkened around him, and he watched as the minions of the underworld condensed in front of them. There were several of them crawling on her while a couple tugged at her wrists; their chittering fell silent as they became aware of the silent viewer towering above them. For some reason, the sight disgusted him, and he felt the anger that had settled into his veins bubble back up again.
“I will not let your filthy hands touch her.”
The words ripped from him in a near snarl. He swung Tenseiga in an arc and sliced the imps in half, dissolving them back into wisps of smoke. They vanished with a few, unhappy squeals, and the world came back into focus around him. He replaced the blade on his hip and knelt next to her body, studying it carefully. There wasn’t any immediate change; she remained grey and lifeless, her injuries still clear as day. The impatience within him tightened in his gut and her name slipped from his lips.
“Emiko.”
The moment between returning the soul and the time it took effect was too long. She was supposed to rise, yet he still saw nothing. He moved on instinct; he reached out and slipped his arm around her, drawing her upright and tucking her torso against him, her head cushioned by his fur. He had done this with Rin and she had awoken - it felt necessary to do the same with her.
“Emiko. Come back.”
It was the warmth that he felt first, emanating through the fabric of his sleeve; the warmth of her skin as it was flooded with life once more. Her eyelashes fluttered and her chest rose and fell sharply. A thin band of tension that he had not realized was coiled up inside of him eased when he heard her heart start up once more. He gently lowered her back down onto the grass and pulled Hinoseishin from his obi to place it down next to her. As he pulled his hand back, he saw her eyes crack open; for a long moment, he found himself compelled to kneel there, watching her pupils adjust, seeing the recognition grow in the light brown irises. Once he was sure she was cognizant and stable, he stood, letting his eyes find hers one last time. He would not explain himself, and he knew she would not ask.
But she would not die in his presence ever again.
In a rush of wind, he took to the sky, aiming for above the treetops where he could coalesce into a ball of yōki and return to his pack. Rin would be impatient for answers, and he had not intended for them to stay in one spot for so long.
His hunt for Naraku would resume. That was all.
They’d had a moment for a final goodbye, at least. When she’d felt the weird yank on her essence, like a hook had been embedded in her pelvis, Mayumi had been quick to stand and give her a final hug. She’d clung to her like a babe, trying not to lose it completely and weep as she was immersed in that comforting, unplaceable scent, and felt her hand run through her hand in soothing strokes.
“I’ll see you again one day,” her mother had murmured to her, “My blessed child.”
She wanted to remember that moment more than anything else - to remember what her mother felt like, what she smelled like, to memorize the sound of her voice. She’d tried to tell her so many things all at once: to thank her, to tell her that she loved her, that she was sorry. She wasn’t sure how much of it she’d gotten out - a light had engulfed her and everything had faded from her senses.
Coming back to her body was a slow, tedious process. It was as if it had fallen into a numb sleep, and was only now starting to regain feeling. She’d heard the sound of birds first, and before she’d opened her eyes, she knew who it was who was next to her; his scent was as identifiable as it had always been, but it was much more comforting in this moment than she’d expected.
She hadn’t expected to feel his hand in her hair. She’d felt it pull away, felt his fingers catch on a few, tangled strands, and saw him bring his arm back to his knee when her vision finally sharpened. His expression was as unreadable as ever, and she wasn’t in the best state to comprehend his silent looks. But there was something about how molten his amber orbs were as he gazed at her, that made her newly beating hard stutter a bit.
And then, Sesshōmaru was gone. He flew away in a blur, off to wherever he’d been roaming before all of... this.
What was this, anyway? Where was she? The forest canopy was spreading its bare boughs above her, which was a far cry from the rehabilitated shack she’d been kept in by Hakudōshi. She’d been moved, and somehow, Sesshōmaru had gotten involved with her kidnapping. She needed a lot of answers.
Emiko tested out her arms and legs and winced when the nerves in them tingled, still not happy with moving yet. She pushed through it and managed to haul herself into a sitting position, the kimono she’d been draped in falling off of her. She ran her fingertips over her abdomen and neck, feeling the smooth, unblemished skin, unsure if it was really there.
The Tenseiga heals all injures when it revives, huh? I guess that makes sense. You’d just die all over again if you still had a fatal wound.
She touched her chest just to confirm, but there was no puncture there. Everything was restored - as far as she could tell, anyway. Given the supplies scattered around her, her friends had made camp here, but they were nowhere to be seen. Her tsukesage was gone, likely damaged beyond repair, and Hinoseishin was laying by her side. She reached for it, and the second her hand touched the hilt, it sparked and its aura of flames burst into life around it, burning as hot and fierce as ever. A big smile spread across her face and she drew the katana toward her, holding it aloft.
Thank you, Sesshōmaru. I guess I owe you even more, now.
A loud chirp assaulted her ears as Keiko burst from the treeline and flew to her. Emiko’s smile grew and she reached out her arm to her faithful companion, who circled around her several times happily before landing on her bicep with a ruffle of her wings. She brought the phoenix to her and nudged her stomach feathers while Keiko nibbled at her pointed dog ear, singing her melodious tune as she did so.
“Hello, pretty girl,” she murmured, “You didn’t miss me too much, did you?”
“E-Emiko!?”
“Lady Emiko!”
“Emiko!”
Sango, Miroku, Kagome and Shippō all came running from the trees as well, their faces alight with joy. Kagome’s already blotchy cheeks were growing red as she started to cry. Shippō threw himself at Emiko, and she caught the little kitsune in a hug as he wailed into her neck.
“Emiko! We thought you were dead!”
Kagome flung herself down next to her and hugged her tightly, “Thank goodness… Thank goodness, you’re alive again!”
Emiko gasped as the breath was driven from her lungs by the tight embrace. With Keiko on her shoulder, she freed one arm to wrap around Kagome’s body to give her a gentle squeeze, feeling her hot tears dampening her skin.
“Hey... it’s okay. I’m okay now.”
Kagome sniffed loudly and sat back on her heels, scrubbing at her eyes as she beamed at her. Sango reached down to help Emiko to her feet and grasped her hand tightly. Her voice was shaky, but she was holding herself together.
“Sesshōmaru brought you back to life. He showed up here not too long ago and I didn’t... I had no idea what he wanted to do. I’m so glad.”
“I wouldn’t have believed it either if I hadn’t seen him,” Emiko replied quietly, “I’m glad, as well. I think I owe him thanks.”
Sango shook her head, “You can do that later. I don’t think any of us want to see you leaving any time soon.”
A heavy hand rested on her phoenix-free shoulder, and she turned to find Miroku behind her. His gentle smile was as kind as ever, but his eyes were red-rimmed.
“Welcome back, Lady Emiko. You gave us quite a fright.”
She reached up and pressed her fingers to his knuckles, “I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I made a mistake and let Kagura catch me, and I won’t let it happen again.”
Shippō tucked his head under her chin, and she rested it on top of his orange locks, taking another sweep of her surroundings. She was a little shaky, she’d need to rest before she was back to full health, but she grew stronger with each passing second. She was also realizing that there was one, important person whose scent was hours old and was nowhere in sight.
“Where’s Inuyasha?”
The group exchanged looks. Kagome was the first one to speak.
“He... He wasn’t doing well. We didn’t know Sesshōmaru would bring you back. Honestly, none of us even thought to ask.”
“He took off toward the ocean,” Miroku supplied when she fell quiet, “We haven’t seen him since we found you. I believe he wanted to let out his grief somewhere where it wouldn’t harm others.”
A sigh slipped from her and she wrapped both arms around Shippō, “Ah. I see.”
If she was in better condition, she’d go and find him, but she knew that wasn’t wise. She pressed her lips together and scanned the sky above her, hoping that he’d suddenly pop back up.
He didn’t.
“I guess we’ll have to wait for him to come back, then,” she muttered, “I’m not in a position to be flying right now.”
“I think he’d be too dangerous to approach, even if we’re bringing news of your resurrection,” Miroku agreed, “We can make camp here. He’ll follow the campfire once he’s exhausted himself.”
He gestured to the small pile of sticks they’d set up in preparation. Emiko hummed to herself.
“I’m sure all of you need to eat, anyway. I think I could use a meal. And I want to know what happened, if you’re comfortable telling me.”
She pulled her yōki to herself and snapped her fingers. With ease, a flame popped into existence in the middle of the wood and started to eat away at it. Kagome let out a happy gasp and Sango reached over to thread her arm through Emiko’s, leaning into her, seeking comfort as much as she was giving it.
Her abilities were as sharp as ever, then. She’d have to test them tomorrow, when she was strong enough, so she could see what it was that the phoenix egg had given her. For now, it was just nice to conjure fire again.
“We can explain what happened after you were captured,” Miroku was saying, “But you’ll have to accept our heartfelt apologies for how poorly we handled the situation. We were not good friends, Lady Emiko.”
“I doubt that. Let’s get a meal going, and you can tell me everything.”
* * *
Inuyasha didn’t return until night had fallen. The fire was blazing merrily to banish the cold, and the smell of roasting rabbits wafted along the burbling stream next to them. Between Miroku, Sango and Kagome, Emiko had been told the whole story of how they discovered that she was missing, and how Keiko had led them to her, collecting Sesshōmaru along the way. From the phoenix in question, she’d gleaned that Kagura had released her after keeping her captive for some time - likely, it was her attempt to double-cross Hakudōshi without getting caught. It left her with even more mixed feelings about the woman than before. On one hand, if she’d done her job thoroughly, she would’ve killed Keiko, and it would have taken them even longer to find her, if they were even able to.
On the other hand, her ‘help’ hadn’t resulted in a better outcome. She’d still died.
She heard the crack of a twig somewhere nearby and caught the musk of earth and ozone. Heads turned as Inuyasha pushed his way into the camp, and Emiko felt her stomach twist into a lead ball at the sight of him. His hitatare was stained with soot and blood and his knuckles were bruised and split. His chin was lowered, and clutched in his grasp was a handful of narcissuses, the white petals as bright as the stars in the sky above.
Kagome was the first to stand, clasping her hands together, “Inuyasha!”
“I’m back,” his ragged voice was barely above a whisper, “I… thought maybe I could find something for her grave. But these were the only things growing.”
He still hadn’t lifted his head. Emiko slowly made her way to her feet, pulling Sango’s kimono more snugly around her body. She wasn’t sure how to approach him, not without upsetting him further. She wanted to tease him about how he was still bad at not using his senses, but the joke just wouldn’t come to her. The sight of him so defeated, so hopeless, had robbed her of her speech.
If I hadn’t returned, he would still be like this. I would’ve shattered him.
“Inuyasha–” Miroku began, but he was interrupted by Shippō, who leapt onto the hanyō’s hip, clinging onto the fabric.
“Wouldja quit moping and just look up, you idiot! Emiko’s alive!”
Inuyasha jerked, staring down at the kitsune. His eyes finally darted up and immediately landed on her standing on the other side of the fire. He froze, and she gave him a fond, frail smile.
“Hey. You look terrible.”
A strangled noise wrenched from his throat and the narcissuses fell from his shaking hand. Emiko felt her eyes starting to well up and she crossed over to him in three, long strides, pulling him into a tight hug before he said a word. The tension in his body collapsed and he wrapped his arms around her, burying his face into her hair.
“Y-You bastard,” he choked out, “I thought you weren’t coming back. You always come back! We promised each other we wouldn’t pull that shit!”
She’d never cried as much as she had this day. Emiko held him tighter, trying to do her best not to stain his clothes with her tears.
“I know. I’m sorry,” she murmured, “I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again, I promise.”
They stayed in their embrace for a long minute before finally pulling away, neither of them entirely put together. Inuyasha looked her over twice, trying to check for injuries, his shock changing rapidly into anger.
“You look okay. How? How are you alive again?”
“Sesshōmaru,” Kagome chimed in, “He used the Tenseiga to revive her.”
A snarl pushed between his bared teeth, “Damn that Sesshōmaru... he waited all of that fucking time before he decided to use his shitty sword!? What the hell is his problem??”
“Whatever his reasoning, we should be grateful for his intervention, Inuyasha, not angry about it,” Miroku said, exasperated, “I don’t think you can use this as another excuse to continue your fight with him.”
“The hell I can’t! I’m gonna kick his ass the next time I see him!!”
He jabbed a finger at the three of them, “And why the fuck didn’t any of you come and get me when she was brought back? Huh??”
“Because we valued our lives!” Sango replied, “You were throwing the Wind Scar with wild abandon, it was impossible to get to you. Even if we could find you.”
“Whatever! I’m starving.”
With continued grumbling and an irritated head toss, he squatted down next to the fire, his ears pinned tightly to his head. Emiko sank down next to him, pressing her shoulder up against his, and he returned the gesture with a shaky sigh. He still wasn’t okay - he probably wouldn’t be for awhile. She wasn’t sure how this would affect her, either.
“All of us are happy that you’re back with us, Emiko,” Kagome said softly.
She had knelt back down on Emiko’s other side, her attention fixed on the dancing flames. Inuyasha and Shippō - who had started immediately bickering about the last rabbit that was cooking - fell silent.
“I don’t think it ever really hit us how we could lose each other like we almost lost you today,” she continued, “Naraku… and Hakudōshi. They’ll know you were resurrected.”
The child’s name sent a chill down her spine. Emiko pressed her lips together and glanced in the direction of the fortress. She couldn’t see it from here, but knowing it was close by was enough to make her a bit queasy. While she had been dead, she hadn’t felt the pain that Hakudōshi had caused her; now that she’d been returned to her body, those phantom reminders of the wounds he had inflicted had returned, causing her stomach and her chest to twinge.
“Yes, and he’ll probably try again. But I can’t let that stop me from continuing after Naraku. If Onigumo’s curse concerns him this much, then that means I’m on the right track. Until it’s broken, I have to use every advantage I have.”
Her friends’ expressions were grim, determined. Keiko fluttered over to sit on her leg and she brushed her fingers over her feathered crest.
“We need to strike out again tomorrow.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Inuyasha muttered, “We’ve got that lead Kanta’s old man gave us. We need to get to the last Jewel shard before them. Whatever it takes.”
Like a striking snake, his hand shot out and snatched the rabbit just as Shippō was reaching for it with a mischievous smirk. The kit immediately started to whine and Inuyasha shoved his face away.
“Aw, get over it! I haven’t eaten yet!”
“But I’m a growing kid! I need all of the nutrients to get big and strong!”
“Like you’ll ever get any bigger with those twig legs~”
The bickering returned at full force and Kagome groaned, rubbing her temples. Emiko gave her a sympathetic smile, feeling the warmth of endearment spreading through her as everyone began to talk all at once. The part of her that always missed her father would still ache at the reminder that she could have seen him again - that she could have stopped all of the pain and the struggling and finally rested. But she’d seen what her death had caused even a few people, and knowing that she meant that much to them eased the grief at least a little.
She had one more thing she wanted to do before they left the area tomorrow. It was long overdue that she faced the part of her past that she’d tried so hard to avoid.
And then, unfortunately, she needed to get some new clothes.