The Taisho fire

The great dog general

"You were magnificent," Gwen breathed, taking in the sheer size of the Inuyōkai represented in the painting that throned inside the piano room.

Fingers entwined with her betrothed, the young woman struggled not to gape. Shōji screens and framed pictures littered the walls of the great hall, a few of those representing Tōga in his glory days. It was jarring enough to see a portrait of himself in full regalia, swords at his hips and back, spiked armour in place, stripes proudly displayed upon his high cheekbones; this was exactly the vision she'd had, so many months ago. The one he had sketched himself, and given her. The one she had chosen to take with her when she moved, and once again when they fled London.

But more impressive still were the representations of Tōga, the great dog, in yōkai form from centuries past. Humans knew him then, in the twelfth century, and the realisation of his long existence was like a sucker punch to the gut. The man that now stood by her side had lived through this all, wars, famines, centuries upon centuries of life.

"I'm not him," Tōga murmured by her side, dumbstruck by the illustrations of his past self. "Not anymore."

Gwen nodded.

"No, you are not," she confirmed with a certain amount of relief. How that woman, Izayoi, had handled being the wife of such a supernatural being was a mystery. She must have been one hell of a strong woman, or an ignorant one. With her sight, Gwen had no such luxuries; being near Sesshōmaru was destabilising enough. But Tōga, the Inu no Taishō ? That was another story.

Gwen brought her man's hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles, catching his attention. The ring upon her finger caused her heart to leap with joy; he had chosen so well.

"You are different, but still magnificent. It must have been a difficult life, to be a warlord, right ?"

Tōga shrugged; she knew his memories were fuzzy, but enough to know he'd spent centuries in battle at the time. That his dominance needed to be ascertained more often than not, leaving his family in constant danger; the price of being top dog. But something else danced in his eyes, right now, and she tried to understand what fear lurked within the confines of his mind.

The truth burst in her face like a party horn.

"You're afraid, I'm in love with your past self."

He was reluctant to answer, but he graced her with one nonetheless. She admired him for it; the ability to tell harsh truths.

"No !", he winced. Then "yes, a bit."

Did he expect her to yell at him for being honest ? Gwen shifted to face him, grabbing his second hand in hers with a smile that she hoped, conveyed the extend of her devotion.

"Tōga. I'm in love with your soul. You are the man I am about to marry, and I wouldn't change you for the world. You know I fell in love with the Captain long before I knew your soul was yōkai made."

"I..."

But the former general would never finish that sentence, for a blur of white hair and coloured suit nearly tackled Gwen to the ground.

"MARRY ?" Towa shrieked, sending the young woman tumbling backwards. A pair of familiar hands wrapped around her shoulders, but not before Gwen's wailing foot hit a corner of a nearby buffet.

"Ouch !" she whined.

Thick eyebrows dipped in retribution, causing the bubbly Towa to lower her head sheepishly.

"Gomen !" she exclaimed.

"You must be careful, Towa-Chan," rumbled Tōga.

And even though his granddaughter was technically four centuries older than himself, the scolding still had a tremendous effect. Aghast, Towa apologised once more, fluttering around Gwen like a sick puppy until a whine tore out of her throat.