She once taught him how to wield a sword. Centuries later, he finds her reincarnation and decides to return the favour.
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Sesshomaru stalled as his master halted before him. Watching as his master gripped the hilt of his blade and stood unmoving.His eyes narrowed. They were surrounded by a pack of demons. Sesshomaru quickly identified the pungent scent and demonic aura as that belonging to a wolf demon. Faintly, he could see several other four-legged mongrels lurking in the shadows, leering and snarling at them with their hackles raised.
"Tch."
A low growl echoed around them.
There was a bark, and then a flash of silver followed immediately by whimpers of pain.
In an instant, it was over and his master was already sheathing his sword. A chill ran down Sesshomaru's spine as pure unbridled fury radiated off of his master's aura. His eyes widened as he watched his master grab the fallen wolf demon by his neck, whispering into the demon's ear before abruptly releasing him. The demon coward, grovelling at the masked oni's feet as he pleaded for mercy, stammering apologies and shakily proclaiming his gratitude.
The masked warrior inclined their head. Then continued walking along the path, casually beckoning Sesshomaru to follow. He did, but was annoyed to find the wolf demon tailing behind him. Scoffing, Sesshomaru turned to face him.
"Leave." He commanded, glaring at the wolf demon who yelped and frantically complied. The demon swiftly fled into the forest, followed by wolves whose tails were tucked between their legs, whimpering the entire time as they fled.
Sesshomaru turned to Gin. His eyes thoughtful and contemplative as he continued to trail after her. His enigmatic master puzzled him. Not only was he mischievous in his teaching methods but he also seemed to hold a certain compassion for mortals and children. He was strong and ruthless with his enemies and didn't seem to hesitate or hold back, having perfect control so as not to kill...if only just barely.
His master always wore a wooden mask carved in the shape of an oni painted white, now with a permanent streak of red from the blood of that deceased human child. Although Sesshomaru once thought him to be mute, he had witnessed his master speaking to the wolf demon thereby proving that he was not without voice. A dull anger filled him at the realization that his master could've simply spoken to him at any time but instead made him interpret his cryptic and often wild gestures.
Sesshomaru felt his anger ebbed as another realization replaced it. He had earned his master's acknowledgment by learning how to interpret his language and was one, if not the only other who could use said language. He had never heard of it before learning it from his master which meant it was either exclusive to his master or his master's line. Having been passed on this knowledge was an honour.
Still, he wondered why his master never spoke aloud.
"Shishō-sama?" He inquired blankly, "why is it that Shishō-sama hides his voice?"
