The Taisho fire

Tōga

"Are you in pain ?"

Even with the door closed, her voice filtered in the cabin, half drowned by the noise of the motors. Sesshōmaru's knuckles tensed on the glass of yōkai liquor – the third one. Were he not daiyōkai, he would have shaken his head at the woman's worrying. But he was Sesshōmaru, the killing perfection; beings of his standing didn't show emotions, let alone their frustration. Even when warranted...

Hypocrite.

It was her voice, once more, that cracked like a whip in his head.

Rin.

His own wife had fussed over him the very same, even though he was one of the most indestructible yōkai of the planet at the time. She'd been so short, the consequences of early years of malnourishment and ningen genetics. But her heart... her heart had engulfed him whole. Her ministrations had never exasperated him; she cared for his well-being, choosing to overlook the power he wielded in his claws. When he closed his eyes, every so often, to take a few minutes' rest, it was her brown eyes he saw, her small fingers he felt, her warmth that seeped through his bones.

I miss you.

And that woman just had to poke at the festering wound, didn't she ? Seething, Sesshōmaru reflected on this stroke of fate. It was just his chance that instead of choosing a demure Hime, his reborn father had to stumble upon a seer.

Did he not mind that a mere ningen could be privy to his thoughts ? His emotions ? Did he trust her that much that he would allow such invasion of his privacy ? Or perhaps he'd just gone soft, corrupted by the amount of human blood that now flowed through his veins...

Tch.

Who was he kidding ? Neither Kagome nor Rin had been weak. He'd known irrepressible cowards in the yōkai community, and courageous men and women that stood up to death. Including his wife. Still, what right did she have to unearth his pain ?

Tōga's voice distracted him from his murderous thoughts, bringing another set of questions to mind.

"It's alright, Gwen."

Sesshōmaru closed his eyes; his voice was just the same as he remembered. In his youth, that deep rumble had been the epitome of safety. Centuries had passed since then, but the vibration still called forth peace and contentment in his mind. No matter what occurred afterwards, no matter how much hate and disdain Tōga's betrayal had seared in his heart, his father's voice still lulled his senses like those of a pup.

The purpose and gentleness had not changed an inch. Reincarnated or not, the soul of his father had returned with all his strengths and flaws. Idly, Sesshomaru wondered if he'd be able to find peace in this renewed acquaintance; the past centuries had whipped him, forced him to grow, to gain wisdom... and to understand his father's choices.

He still clung to resentment; it gave him the spine of steel needed to navigate this world and protect his own. Yet, a part of him wanted to convey many regrets. The greatest ones, about the last words he'd traded with his father when he flew to his death. Because Tōga had been so great, in his mind, that he couldn't die. Harsh words could be explained, anger drained through a challenge, misunderstandings worked out.

They should have... if chaos had not unleashed in the land, and Tōga died crushed under that building, trying to save his other wife, his other son. He'd been left behind, unrooted, a leaf torn by the wind.

"Tōga..."

Chichi-ue.

Even through the door, he could feel how breathless she was.