Fade in me

With long, careful fingers, she wove the stems of snow-white anemones. One after another, quietly humming an old children's song that, she thought, her mother had once sung to her. The delicate petals barely touched her skin — so afraid was Rin of harming them. “Are you sure he'll come?” Kagome asked, holding out a ribbon from which colorful paper butterflies dangled on thin, bright strings. In truth, the miko wasn't worried about whether Sesshomaru would come or not. She was certain Inuyasha's elder brother would appear at the festival. Kagome was worried about Rin, this wonderful little girl who had finally been able to feel what it was like to live in a loving family again. She watched as her adopted sister wove lush red camellia flowers into the wreath of white anemones and sighed quietly, forgetting about her own butterflies. “Of course he'll come, I invited him!” Rin giggled, not looking up from her weaving. And yet, it was in vain that Kaede had told the girl about hanakotoba; for days now, she hadn't been gathering medicinal herbs but searching for flowers that would suit her small, yet overly important plan. And she was only fifteen! Of course, times were different then, and at fifteen, children weren't even considered children anymore. But Kagome was from a completely different time. And Sesshomaru was… She suddenly frowned, and the hand holding the scissors froze in midair. The girl had no idea how old Sesshomaru was. One thing was known for sure — he was older than Inuyasha. Maybe a hundred? Or five hundreds? The mere thought of the vast age difference between Sesshomaru and Rin made Kagome's stomach twist. “Sister, are you unwell?” Rin suddenly exclaimed, setting the flower wreath aside, ready to run over and help the miko if needed. “M-mm,” Kagome shook her head and focused her gaze on the orange butterfly in her hands. “It's nothing, I was just thinking.” A fat bumblebee buzzed loudly past the window, and Kagome followed it with her eyes. The insect promptly vanished from sight, its buzzing still audible somewhere nearby, but the miko remained staring into the cloudless spring sky. Behind her, Rin returned to her weaving and began to sing her song again.

***

Every house and every path in the village was adorned with little pinwheels made of colored paper. Children ran around with equally colorful paper kites, playing at being demon slayers. Some of them growled and shrieked terrifyingly, holding their hands high, so the kites could “stretch” to their full length, while others aimed at them with invisible arrows from small bows Sango had made for them long ago. She had strictly forbidden them to use real arrows, since the children had so persistently begged her for “bows like real demon slayers had.” And they feared Sango's wrath far more than any youkai, which was why they were now arguing, again, about whether the arrow had hit the fearsome serpent or not. “Inuyasha-san!” several of the “slayers” exclaimed in unison upon noticing him approach Kagome. “Tell him that serpents aren't that fast and can't dodge all our arrows!” “Yeah! Especially ones that are so big and fat, like Minoru described!” “I didn't say he was fat! I said big and thick-skinned, you idiots!” the boy shook his paper kite and then slapped his own arm, as if demonstrating the toughness of demonic armor on himself. “You're the idiot! Snakes have scales, not skin, so your demon is just big and fat!” Inuyasha rolled his eyes and exhaled with exaggerated exasperation, making Kagome, who had been standing nearby trying to hold back her laughter, giggle. This only annoyed him further, and the guy clenched his fist, his knuckles cracking. “I'll shred your serpent and your bows right now! Now scram!” he hissed, shaking his fist menacingly at the children. Not frightened in the least, the whole gang of kids rushed towards the fields, laughing and shouting. If Inuyasha could defeat both demons and slayers with a single blow, then their invisible arrows must have pierced the serpent's scales after all. Even Minoru, who was playing the demon, agreed with this outcome, for deep down, he too always hoped for the slayers' victory. “The years go by, but you're as much of a brute as ever,” Kagome lamented, tilting her head in mock offense. “Making such a racket in the middle of the day, as if they've got nothing better to do!” he snorted and adjusted the butterfly garland that Kagome couldn't quite manage to hang on the window. “It's a festival today, let them make some noise,” the miko took a couple of steps back and looked at the decoration. “A little to the left.” “Every day is a holiday for them, judging by the chaos they cause,” he grumbled, adjusting the garland again and accidentally tangling his fingers in the strings, which prompted a few dissatisfied curses under his breath. “That's how it should be,” Kagome returned to Inuyasha and covered his hand with her palms to help untangle the knot without damaging the garland. “They're children. It's good when they play and make noise.” “Yeah, right. Until that grumpy sourpuss shows up and ruins all the fun.” Inuyasha smirked, but it wasn't a happy one. He stepped away from the wall of the house, now watching the miko fasten the woven strings to the window frame. And Kagome, having tied the knot, froze, her gaze fixed on the butterflies swaying in the gentle breeze. They seemed weightless, as if they were real, their thin wings fluttering from her breath. The girl crossed her arms over her chest, holding them tighter, and sighed heavily. The morning's thoughts raced through her mind again, for of course Inuyasha had been talking about his brother. His tone made it clear that something about Sesshomaru was bothering him too (though when was it ever otherwise?). But they both remained silent about their worries, soon returning to the festival preparations. By lunchtime, there was actually little left to do: find the missing tablecloth, a prettier one, and a couple of extra plates, just in case someone accidentally broke one of those already set on the tables. Rin ran between them, barely touching the dishes with the large bow of her obi, then apologized, and a couple of seconds later heard the clatter of dishes again from another direction. Today's festival was in her honor, the tables were groaning with food, she had heard only kind wishes and compliments all day, yet she still sighed anxiously every time she looked at the sky. The clear, cloudless blue seemed so eerie and boundless that its serenity sent shivers down her spine. At one point, she nearly dropped a tray of drinks upon spotting a cloud passing overhead. Its soft outlines seemed vaguely familiar to the girl, and she was ready to call out Sesshomaru's name, but stopped immediately when she discerned in the floating white spot nothing more than an ordinary cloud. Kagome's own anxiety had tripled in intensity, and her frequent sighs did not go unnoticed — something Inuyasha immediately regretted when he got a wet towel to the back of his head for “asking stupid questions.” For the rest of the time, he sat silently on Kaede's roof, watching the final preparations, quietly awaiting the moment when everyone would finally be called to the table. Rin kept asking Kagome to wait just a little longer, “just a tiny bit,” hoping that Sesshomaru would arrive any moment, and they could all sit down together. But after much persuasion, she was finally convinced that Sesshomaru wouldn't sit at the table “with everyone.” He appeared only closer to evening, presenting a beaming, happy Rin with a new kimono — as bright as her eyes, which were tearing up with delight. In return, she handed him the woven flower wreath, and the demon even inclined his head, as if in a polite bow, allowing the girl to “crown” him. Kagome watched this from afar and didn't notice how tightly she was clutching her red hakama until Inuyasha pointed it out. She quietly suggested that Sesshomaru might not even realize the meaning young Rin had imbued in that wreath, to which a confused Inuyasha retorted that even if he did understand, he couldn't care less about all those hidden meanings. Earning himself another scolding, this time with a dry towel that had suddenly found its way into the miko's hands. He didn't come down from the roof after that, deciding he'd had enough of these strange festive moods. Just as Sesshomaru was about to leave, having spent a criminally short time at the festival (most of which he spent looking strangely in Miroku's direction, making the monk quite nervous), the demon suddenly stopped and peered intently through the crowd. Miroku, who had approached him, also froze, trying to discern even a hint on the pale face of what might be going through the demon's mind. “Blood,” Sesshomaru spared him the need to read tea leaves or search for signs among the stars. Miroku immediately turned around, but in the direction the demon was looking, there was absolutely nothing. Nothing but the forest, too quiet for this time of day. And when Inuyasha suddenly jumped to his feet and grabbed his sword, Miroku decided to push through the crowd and see what could have alarmed both brothers so much. Halfway there, agitated voices of men and women reached him; someone passed by, leading three children and muttering that they shouldn't be underfoot. When he reached the source of the commotion, the monk finally caught the scent of blood too. Not that he had missed it: his occasional odd jobs provided more than enough of it to remind him of everything he so desperately wanted to leave in the past. But it had been a long time since Miroku had smelled blood so close to home... “...in the web,” a man was trying to explain in a hoarse voice, clearly short of breath. “Her soul... is in the web...” “Wait, calm down!” Miroku didn't notice how sharp his own voice sounded. “Catch your breath and try to explain slowly. You are safe here. You will be helped.” Perhaps the word 'safety' and the promise of aid worked on people like magic, because as soon as the man heard them, he took a few ragged breaths and immediately collapsed to the ground, whether from exhaustion or blood loss. Or perhaps from everything at once. Only one thing was clear — something very bad had happened, involving the demon that stole people's souls. Miroku turned, searching the crowd for Kagome or Kaede, but unexpectedly, he noticed something else entirely: Sesshomaru had vanished, as if he had never been there at all. But he paid that little mind.

***

Tenseiga ought to have shrunk to the size of a speck of dust under the weight of the guilt that this cursed sword couldn't even feel. It hung beneath his heart like a multi-ton burden, causing that very heart to melt with the rage boiling within it. 'Are you happy now, Tenseiga? You brought back to life a many-faced carcass that now tears the very souls from bodies with its claws.' Sesshomaru had left the festival the instant he heard the wounded man's words about the spider. He hadn't caught Naraku's scent, and judging by the half-demon's usual reaction, Inuyasha hadn't suspected anything either. But he hadn't seen or known what Sesshomaru knew: Naraku was alive. That was the only reason he was now heading back to the place of their meeting. Not only had the loathsome stench that had tormented him for so long vanished, but the cave where he had left Naraku was gone too. There was no door, no planks, not even a hint of any hollow within the rock. Sesshomaru stood before a moss-covered wall, the wind barely touching the fur of his boa. At first, he considered simply cleaving the cliff to find the passage into the cave, but a half-dead Naraku would hardly have had the strength to conceal the fact of his return so thoroughly. A few minutes later, Sesshomaru was walking towards the village from which the man had come. Tracking that scent was child's play — humans were nothing like demons. Especially when the entire path was stained with blood; even a fool couldn't miss that. And yet, all his thoughts circled back to one thing: how had that filth managed it? Not only to hide all traces of his presence, but also to succeed in tasting human blood. Had Sesshomaru now become the one who returned evil to this world? His father would not have approved. To hell with Toga. As if he were someone to look up to.

***

The forest rushed towards them at a mad speed; Kagome even had to hide her face behind Sango's back to stop squinting from the wind. Not that Inuyasha would get too far ahead — he'd promised to be careful, and besides, Kirara had been waiting for a chance to release her pent-up energy for a long time. “I'm worried about him,” Sango said without turning around, and Kirara growled sympathetically. “Don't be, we left him with Kaede and Rin. Granny is experienced in these matters, and Rin is there to assist. Everything will be fine,” Kagome adjusted the bow slung over her shoulder and peeked forward to catch a glimpse of the red figure darting ahead of them. “She may be experienced, but Rin looked so sad… What if he gets it into his head to give her another lecture about growing up? Who will look after the children then?” Sango exhaled heavily. “I should have stayed and let him go with you.” Losing track of the conversation for a moment, Kagome fell silent and pursed her lips. She had been talking about the poor soul who came to them for help, but Sango was still worried about Miroku. Accustomed to being in control, the demon huntress often preferred to stay with the children, anxious for their safety. At first, she hadn't even let Miroku leave the village. Though the huntress never showed it, the loss of her family had left a huge, unhealed wound on her soul. It didn't matter that they all saw the world slowly returning to normal: people were building new fortified towns, there were fewer bandits, and demons had mostly decided to go into hiding. They no longer had someone who was both a leader and their worst nightmare rolled into one. Only a few clans occasionally fought over the remaining scraps of territory, which grew fewer and fewer. Kagome remembered that in just two hundred years, everything would change so drastically that demons would remain only as stories in books and fairy tales her grandfather had told her as a child. Only now did she suddenly articulate the thought to herself: in her own present time, very few demons truly remained. They had either learned to hide among humans or had vanished entirely. No, this thought made her skin break out in goosebumps, like a sudden gust of cold wind on a hot July day. She'd rather think that the demons had found a way to assimilate. Maybe, somewhere in the far, far future, there lived an Inuyasha who had traded his Robe of the Fire-Rat for an ordinary tracksuit, or jeans and some silly t-shirt. He'd learned to hide his ears, and Tessaiga had retired. He'd probably even found a job. Definitely not as an office clerk — that was more Sesshomaru's style. Although, if anyone would become the director of some fancy company, it would be Inuyasha's elder brother, surely. He'd wear incredibly expensive, custom-tailored suits and still dislike people just the same. Kagome suddenly wondered, could their brotherly rivalry ever fade? What if, somewhere in the future, Inuyasha remained just as he was now: hot-headed, constantly getting into trouble. And Sesshomaru became the one who bailed him out using his connections and money. A vivid picture appeared before her eyes, as lively as those bad-boy dramas her mom loved to watch so much. “What a nightmare,” Kagome whispered, feeling another wave of goosebumps run down her spine. “We should have stayed! I knew it, Kirara!” Sango reacted immediately, pressing herself slightly against the cat's body to steady herself during a sharp turn. “Wait, no! You didn't let me finish,” Kagome said quickly, grabbing Sango's shoulders. “I meant: what a nightmare that you think that way! Miroku is a grown and sensible man, they'll be fine, and you should get out more often — not just with me to gather herbs, but beyond our village too.” Sango let out another noisy sigh but straightened up and seemed to believe the miko. Just in case, Kagome kept her hands on her friend's shoulders for a few more moments, herself deciding that next time, she'd ask Kohaku to come along with Kirara and stay in the village with Miroku. She didn't like how literally Sango had taken the phrase 'my home is my castle' and decided to dig in there for good. The forest ended abruptly; for a moment, Kagome even felt strangely exposed. Then Inuyasha stopped, looking at a village not far away. There wasn't the slightest hint that anything had happened there: people were working in the fields, thin ribbons of smoke rose from the chimneys. Everything was utterly ordinary; the miko didn't even sense any presence of evil. But the man wouldn't have come all that way, and with such terrible wounds... “Do you smell anything?” Sango was the first to speak as Kirara's paws touched the ground. “Nope,” Inuyasha snorted in response. “That's what I don't like.” Taking off again, Inuyasha left them behind, racing ahead to the village first. The huntress and the miko followed almost immediately, looking around as they went. To their collective surprise, children ran out to meet them from the very first house, holding medicinal herbs mixed with flowers in their hands. Spotting Kagome, they immediately surrounded her. “Are you the priestess Nobu-san sent for?” “Me?” Not expecting such a question (though it was obvious), Kagome looked at Sango for support. “Yes... I suppose so.” “Then hurry!” shouted the eldest of the girls and, grabbing the miko's hand, pulled her along. The girl led her along the paths to one of the oldest houses, while Inuyasha, Sango, and Kirara trailed behind, peeking into every window they could. Even here, in the very heart of the village, none of them felt anything. The girl brought Kagome inside and led her to a woman lying on the tatami. She seemed to be sleeping peacefully, her chest rising and falling steadily with each breath. Her hair was neatly arranged, her skin looked a bit pale, but that could easily have been due to a minor ailment. “Mother hasn't woken up for three days now,” the girl explained. “Papa went to fetch you as soon as we realized it was the same sickness as everyone else's. People just fall asleep and never wake up.” Kagome knelt beside the sleeping woman and examined her once more before placing her palm on her forehead. What was meant as a simple check for fever revealed much more to the miko. Startled, she flinched, and Inuyasha, who had been standing by the entrance the whole time, grabbed his sword. It was as if an electric shock had run through Kagome — first from a powerful sense of fear, and then from a sensation of all-consumingnothingness. Only later, when she finally pulled away from the woman, did the miko understand: the fear had been her own, but the emptiness was coming from somewhere very close. “There's no one here,” she whispered, the words racing ahead of her own thoughts. Her statement was met with silence, and only then did Kagome realize how strange it must have sounded. She took a quiet breath, straightened up, and turned, looking first at Inuyasha, then at Sango. “I can't feel her soul,” she fell silent for a moment before forcing herself to say anything more. “Do you remember his words?” “'Her soul is in a web,'” the huntress uttered on an exhale. After a quick examination of all the people enchanted into this magical sleep, Kagome concluded that they were all merely soulless shells; bodies that required external help to avoid dying. Inuyasha, meanwhile, had managed to scout the part of the forest adjacent to the village but found nothing there that could shed even a little light on the situation. When he returned, he found the miko staring at a dream catcher swaying in a gentle breeze. In its web, tiny pieces of colored glass glittered like gemstones in the sun, casting dancing, multicolored sunbeams on the wall. This had long since led her to suspect a connection, but until Sango returned, Kagome hadn't dared to share her theory with Inuyasha. In the end, they sat before the dream catcher together, with Inuyasha now studying the web, and the miko watching as the girl carefully combed her mother's hair. “Don't you think that…” the half-demon had only just begun when Kirara returned to the house, followed by Sango. “You were right, they all had dreams of their souls being stolen,” the huntress crossed her arms over her chest. “But the dreams were different for everyone. One person's soul was being carried away by a raging river's current, another's was being pecked out by crows…” “And Nobu-san saw his wife's soul trapped in a spider's web…” Kagome nodded thoughtfully in response. “Papa was always afraid of spiders because he doesn't know which ones are poisonous. Lately, he'd been tormented by terrible nightmares full of spiders,” the girl began speaking confidently but then faltered, pressing her mother's comb to her chest and guiltily lowering her eyes to the floor. “I didn't tell my parents, but I also kept having nightmares… I really wanted to tell them! But then that traveling miko came, offered us her dream catchers. She said they would catch nightmares at night and turn them to dust in the sunlight. And the nightmares really did stop.” “What miko?” Kagome frowned. “And who else did she give dream catchers to?” Sango added. Inuyasha, however, said nothing. He tore the neatly woven dream catcher from the braided cord by the window and turned it over in his hands, trying to figure out what was wrong with it. And judging by the look on his face, he found nothing. He just wrinkled his nose in displeasure. “It stings unpleasantly, like there really is spiritual power here, but it's very weak,” he explained. “She told us her name, but I never remembered it,” the girl averted her eyes guiltily again. “As for the dream catchers… I think Momo’s family bought one from her too. She said she stopped having nightmares after her mother hung it in front of the window.” “You actually paid for this junk?” Inuyasha lifted his lip in displeasure, baring his sharp fangs, and carelessly shook the dream catcher in his hand. Afraid he might break the trinket and worsen their situation, Kagome snatched it from his grasp. Examining it closely, she found nothing besides the tiny speck of spiritual energy Inuyasha had mentioned. The miko snorted and was about to hand the catcher to Sango when they all heard agitated shouts from outside. Inuyasha's expression instantly changed, he muttered a couple of curses only he understood, and shot out of the house like an arrow, grabbing Tessaiga on the way. Without a second thought, the girls rushed out after him. They missed the beginning of the verbal altercation, though 'altercation' was a stretch: only Inuyasha was speaking, loudly, angrily, and waving his arms; his sword had been returned to its scabbard beforehand, which undoubtedly relieved Kagome. The last thing they needed was to frighten the already suffering people with a fight between two demons. But as she moved closer, Sesshomaru's gaze snapped toward her. He often had a look that could make blood run cold, but this time Kagome had to take half a step back to shake off the uncomfortable sensation. As if noticing this, Sesshomaru immediately started walking toward her, passing Inuyasha with utter impassivity. Somewhere near their feet, Kirara growled. Sesshomaru took the dream catcher from Kagome's hands without meeting the slightest resistance. Its white feathers instantly burst into bright flames, then crumbled into ashes at his feet. The real challenge was the web, which stoically withstood his poisonous touch for a full few seconds. But soon, only a couple of thin threads and useless pieces of glass remained. The moment the web dissolved, someone inside the house behind the miko cried out. It sounded like a child's voice, but Sesshomaru had no concern for that now. He watched one of the glass beads, which began to glow as a clump of energy — a human soul — fluttered out of the decaying dream catcher. “The soul was in the web,” the miko whispered, covering her mouth with her hand. “Inuyasha, we need to destroy all the dream catchers!” He barely acknowledged her words of thanks, glancing at the girl only during her bow before discarding all the empty beads. But the shining bead, now separated from everything that had once made up the rather interesting soul trap, soared upward and then flew away from the village as if it were alive. As if someone had summoned it. Sesshomaru immediately gave chase. Soon, several more similar beads flew past him, confirming his suspicion that he had finally found a way to track Naraku. So, the half-breed had apparently found a new way to regain his power. It seemed he had decided to learn a lesson from his past life, albeit the entirely wrong one. Neither a body stitched together from demons nor human souls changed the core issue. Naraku's fundamental mistake was the very fact of his existence. And Sesshomaru intended to correct that. A sinister aura brushed against him even before the destination the beads were leading him to came into view. A well-kept, blooming garden with a gleaming pond at its center. High walls of an enclosure and a two-story temple that resembled the estate of some nobleman in this setting. Its true nature was betrayed by the adjacent pagoda with a similarly curved roof. The moment his sole touched the paved path, Sesshomaru turned, sensing the presence of a demon already known to him. The serpent was looking at him with a slight smile, nodding in greeting. In the sunlight, the youth was even more beautiful than during their previous encounter. Pearl-white scales shimmered wondrously on his cheekbones, neck, and the backs of his hands, and a slender, elegant body was visible beneath his light, snow-white garments. Sesshomaru held his gaze on him longer than necessary, thus provoking the start of a conversation. “So, you were seeking her after all,” he tilted his head and smirked. “Who?” Sesshomaru's voice sounded dry. “The Dark Miko. Lord Sesshomaru, you are standing on the threshold of her temple. It's foolish to deny it now.” The serpent played with his voice, now drawing out the vowels in his name sweetly, now puffing out his lips at the end of the phrase to make it sound utterly childish. “She is of no concern to me.” “I'm afraid she has no concern for you at the moment, either,” he pursed his lips in feigned annoyance, but only for a moment, as his face soon shone with benevolence again. “But for me, a conversation with you would be a great honor.” His melodious voice was still dripping with poison, and Sesshomaru still had no idea which miko the serpent demon was referring to. This encounter itself suggested the two were connected, and he had almost stumbled into this connection against his will. But for some reason, he kept crossing paths with this snake every time he was searching for the cursed half-demon. Frowning, Sesshomaru slowly headed towards the temple. If the beads belonged to the Dark Priestess, did that mean she was Naraku's new servant? He had dealt with a similar individual before, though Sesshomaru didn't know how that had ended for her. Death always surrounded Naraku; he wouldn't be surprised to learn that the past miko, too, had met such a grim fate. The temple courtyard was quiet, not even the birds were chirping. The demon walked slowly, his gaze studying his surroundings. Naraku's castle had been quiet too when he visited. The difference was that here, candles were burning in the temple, and small demons bustled in their shadows. Spotting him, they immediately froze, hastily turning away or pretending to be busy with something very important. None of them uttered a word, so Sesshomaru simply continued forward. Tenseiga suddenly reminded him of its presence with a faint tremor, and Sesshomaru lowered his palm onto the sword's hilt. His vision was immediately filled with other demons. They held souls in their claws and snarled, realizing they had been seen. He felt nothing but disgust for such creatures, so the sword left its scabbard for a few suns, provoking an even more frantic reaction among the hellish minions. “This is my home, not a thoroughfare.” He raised his eyes and met the gaze of a girl in a long, maroon haori. Her shirt was wrinkled and hastily tied, and the edges of her black hakama seemed singed. Despite her disheveled appearance, she stood straight, her chin held high, as if trying to look down on the uninvited guest even though she was a full two heads shorter — and she was even wearing geta! The hellish creations vanished the moment Sesshomaru looked away from her. The demon glanced around, still holding Tenseiga in his hand, but it was useless if they simply weren't there anymore. With a quiet click, the sword returned to its scabbard. “For whom are you collecting souls?” Sesshomaru asked, continuing to walk toward her. “I require no patrons,” she snapped her haori shut sharply but remained standing in the doorway, blocking the path. “It must infuriate you demons that someone dared to challenge you without possessing even a grain of demonic essence. Have you all decided to come here in a crowd now?” “You are of no concern to me.” The words, spoken on an exhale, were becoming tiresome. He should have those words carved on a wooden plaque and given to Jaken. It was a pity he had ever accepted the 'generous' offer to become the liaison between the perpetually absent Lord of the Western Lands and, directly, the inhabitants of said lands. Sesshomaru had long since decided it was one of those ideas that should be banished from one's mind. Lately, there had been more and more of them, and he couldn't explain to himself why. “Then get lost. And tell the slippery one that his kind isn't welcome here,” the temple's mistress stepped closer to him and reached a hand toward Sesshomaru's head. “You daiyokai may not be easy to kill,” she rose onto her toes and plucked something from his silver hair. “But this reeks of human.” With a loud snarl, Sesshomaru dug his claws into her delicate skin, his long fingers closing around the miko's neck. She exhaled sharply, making a failed attempt to break free, and in response, her nails dug into his forearm. Only then did the red camellia flower, the priestess had taken, fall from her hand. To subdue her completely, the demon lifted the fragile body higher, forcing her to dangle helplessly in the air while he burned a hole through her with his gaze. “Watch your filthy mouth,” the demon hissed. “And do not dare compare me to anyone, carrion.” The miko opened her mouth, but instead of words, only wheezes and incoherent grunts escaped. She tried to inhale, but even that was difficult now. Her thin lips were beginning to turn blue, and the capillaries in her eyes burst from the strain, yet she continued to scratch at his hands with her nails. Something shone very close by, its bluish light reflecting in Sesshomaru's eyes. The demon tracked it without loosening his grip for a moment, straight to the miko, around whom this clump of energy began to circle. One of the souls she collected, Sesshomaru thought, deciding to observe before making a decision. And the soul kept circling closer to the priestess's chest until it sank into her as if into an empty vessel. The temple mistress's lips slowly regained their former healthy hue, and the whites of her eyes cleared. Her pulse calmed too; Sesshomaru could feel it under his fingertips. Soon, the only thing preventing the girl from speaking was the demon's hand squeezing her throat. Oxygen had become useless to her, for the priestess had stopped breathing. Her eyes, blackened with rage, stared into the very core of Sesshomaru's soul, making him feel as if she were trying to claw something out of it with her nails. That was the only reason he released her, straightening up as if nothing had happened, while the girl tried to cough, struggling to regain her voice. “They are my souls,” she rasped, stepping back a few paces and doubling over in pain. “I collect them for myself, you bastard!” By then, Sesshomaru's gaze was already lowered, fixed on that very red camellia. It must have gotten caught in his hair, and he hadn't even noticed. Just as he hadn't noticed the missing flower wreath. Sesshomaru didn't even remember when he had lost it. Naraku was so poisonous that the mere thought of him dissolved all others in his mind. The coral petals felt cool and delicate to his touch, a reminder of the one whose festival he had hastily left without a second thought. The air had turned into a vile mixture of the stench of hellish demons, the smell of fear, and the smoke of smoldering hinoki shoots. The last scent had appeared only recently and had already permeated his clothing completely. There was nothing more for him to do here, so the demon left the miko in her temple, departing as slowly as he had entered. Outside, another scent added to the absurd cacophony: Inuyasha had figured out how to find the soul thief. This particular half-breed was the last person Sesshomaru wished to see.

***

A lone camellia flower drifted down the river like a drop of blood against the starry sky. A demon in a white kimono watched its passage with a subdued gaze. Today had been empty, just like the several days before it. Moreover, Naraku had vanished, as if he had truly died with the Shikon Jewel. That chance encounter now seemed like a mere dream. If only Sesshomaru could even remember what it was like to sleep. Had it truly been a trick of his imagination? Or someone's cruel, yet masterful, jest? Perhaps it was even connected to the appearance of the serpent demon and the Dark Priestess: one of them had decided to test him. Sesshomaru! As if in mockery, he heard a familiar, brief chuckle very close by. “A white flower I could have understood,” Naraku's quiet voice sounded nearby, and Sesshomaru already wrinkled his nose at the ubiquitous, damned stench of the hanyo. “Don't tell me this is why you helped me, Lord Sesshomaru?”