“Jakken-sama, please tell us another!”

“Please, please!”

“Oh, all right, all right!” the imp huffed in feigned irritation. “I suppose.”

A small cheer went up among the gathered children as they circled closer to him in the grass. Perched upon the stump of a felled tree, Jakken straightened theatrically.

“It is said,” he began with a dramatic pause, “that none could melt the icy heart of the demon Lord of the Western Lands.”

As the young girls clapped in delight, a shared groan rose up among the boys.

“Why does it have to be a love story…” one grumbled, bracing the side of his face in his hand.

“Silence, ningens,” the imp snapped, jumping angrily up and down. “This is no mere ‘love story’!”

As the chastised boys settled down glumly, Jakken resumed with a mutter.

“As I was saying…the Lord of the Western Lands possessed a heart so cold and cruel that not even the devotion of his most loyal subjects could reach him! A demon without equal, he ruled over his lands with an iron fist–ever seeking to increase his own vast power. It came to pass that he inherited a magical blade from his departed father, yet it was not the sword of legend which he had sought. Learning his half-demon brother was to inherit the sword instead, he set out to claim it for himself.”

“This guy sounds like a spoiled brat,” a girl with pigtails quipped, crossing her arms over her chest.

Jakken shot her a glare. “No more interruptions!” With a broad sweep of his staff, the imp continued, “And so, the demon lord traveled to the land of the dead, where the legendary sword resided–yet neither he nor his half-brother were able to retrieve it, for the blade had been ensorceled! Now, a human priestess, who had fallen in love with his half-brother, had accompanied them to the netherworld, and it was this priestess who broke the enchantment at last and gave the fabled sword to his brother.”

“…Could that be Kagome-chan?” Rin whispered aside to Shippou, who rubbed his chin in thought.

Sitting cross-legged now upon his stage, Jakken leaned toward his attentive crowd. “Time and again, the Lord of the Western Lands attempted to wrest the sword from his half-demon brother and the priestess who aided him—yet each time he was thwarted most shamefully! Suspecting that the woman was the true secret to his brother’s strength, the demon lord came to covet her more fiercely than the sword itself, until the ferocity of his lust drove her away into hiding, and his brother was slain by their common foe.”

By now the children were leaning forward as well, their expressions rapt and grim.

“When the priestess learned of her lover’s death, she returned to the Western Lands with the legendary blade, offering it to the demon lord if he agreed to help her exact her revenge. But the furious lord was not content with this arrangement, and he demanded she give her body to him as well.”

“Er, Jakken-sama…” Kohaku mumbled uncomfortably.

“At any rate,” the imp blustered on, “the priestess agreed to become his lover (for secretly, she had come to desire the strong, dashing lord herself!). Through countless battles they triumphed together, and heedless of the sage advice of his vassal, the Lord of the Western Lands found his affections for her perilously deepening.”

“Wonder who this ‘sage vassal’ could be…” the fox kit remarked dryly.

But Jakken was too immersed in the story to take offense. “Just when victory seemed at last within reach, the lord’s violent demonic nature overwhelmed him at the threat she now presented to his heart, and in a fit of savage rage, he struck down the very woman whom he had come to care for so deeply. Devastated, he wandered the earth alone, haunted by his crimes against her—until at last he tracked down their loathsome enemy and sacrificed both his swords and his very life to grant peace to the spirit of the woman he had loved.”

A light breeze rustled through the trees as the children paused for a moment to absorb this tale and its ending.

“What a terrible story!” one of the young girls tearfully exclaimed. “Everyone dies!”

“It’s called a ‘tragedy,’ you ignorant humans!” the imp shot back, sniffling as he brandished his nintoujou. “It’s an art form!”

Unable to endure this foolishness any longer, Sesshoumaru rose and stepped out from the trees. “Jakken.”

The imp froze in shock, turning slowly to face his master. “Mi-milord…”

“Sesshoumaru-sama,” Rin said with a wry grin, “Jakken-sama is making up stories again.”

“So I see,” the daiyoukai replied, advancing.

At the mere fall of his shadow, the petrified imp toppled over, landing on the ground in a stiff ugly sprawl. Treading purposefully over him, Sesshoumaru continued on his way.

Across the village, Kagome stood in the shade of a tree, leaning her side against Entei as she watched him approach. At the slight smile that touched her lips, he felt the constant ache in his heart re-double.

“He’s been at it again, huh?” she said as he drew to a stop before her, her bright blue eyes slanting toward the trampled imp and the children who prodded at him uncertainly. “Just how tall was his tale this time?”

“Jakken has an unfortunate flair for embellishment,” the daiyoukai agreed as he met her gaze. “But the spirit of this story rang true.”

“Well,” she said, a faint blush rising to her fair cheeks, “imagine that.”

As she tucked a dark lock of hair behind her ear, Sesshoumaru’s eyes slid to the bow and quiver slanted across her back. But it was the sight of the fit-to-bursting yellow pack at her feet that gave him pause.

“You are leaving the village?” he asked.

Kagome nodded, smiling again. “Shippou-kun claims there’s a secret kitsune academy hidden somewhere in the Northern Lands, and since Baa-chan’s finally given me a clean bill of health, I thought I’d go with him to find it.” A soft, happy sigh escaped her as she lifted her eyes to the clear sky above. “It’s about time, I think, for a new adventure.”

As if on cue, the young fox demon came bounding toward them, scrambling to pick up the spinning tops and screaming mushrooms that overflowed his small red satchel.

“Ready to go, Kagome-chan?” he asked excitedly.

“Yep!” she said, beaming back. “There’s just one last thing before we leave…”

Reaching up toward her throat, she curled her fingers around the gleaming pendant she wore, snapping it from its silver chain like fruit from the stem. In the palm of her hand, the Jewel of Four Souls swirled with rosy light.

The corner of Kagome’s lips lifted wryly. “So much trouble for such a little thing…”

As she gazed upon it, her expression briefly fell, the Jewel darkening slightly before it blazed with purity once more—and then, inexplicably, vanished.

“Well,” Kagome said, brightening as she dusted off her hands. “That’s that!”

Sesshoumaru frowned. “What happened?”

“I wished it away, of course.”

“No,” he said. “Why did you hesitate?”

“Oh, w-well…no real reason,” she stammered evasively.

Turning slightly away, she shouldered her pack. When she turned back to face him, her attitude was strangely formal.

“I wanted to thank you,” she said softly, “for keeping your word.”

Sesshoumaru stared at her at a loss. He wanted to tell her that there was no word to her he would not keep—nothing she could ask of him that he would not give her. He wanted to tell her that he would go with her, that he would follow her to the ends of the earth if only she asked him to. But she was not asking, and to say any of this stemmed only from his own selfish wish to remain with her.

So, silently, he nodded.

“Then I guess this is goodbye,” she said, her smile slipping as she turned back toward her waiting companions.

The sight of her walking away—the reality of what it meant—arrested him. Before he could stop himself, he reached out, touching his claws to her back.

“Kagome.”

To his amazement, she paused.

“Please,” he said, bowing his head as his wretched claws fell to his side once more. “Forgive me.”

He raised his eyes to hers as she looked back. He could see the depth of pain reflected in her gaze, could see what her answer would be even before her lips formed the words to speak them.

“I forgive you, Sesshoumaru.”

Hopelessly, he watched as she resumed her course, climbing up behind Shippou atop Entei. Long after she had vanished from his sight, his yearning eyes followed her still.

Despite how deeply he had wronged her, she had forgiven him. Despite how undeserving he was, he could see that she loved him still.

But nothing could make her forget what he had done to her. Though she had lived, the scars she bore would forever divide them in this world.

Nothing, Sesshoumaru knew, could change that.

---

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi

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