A short distance from the campsite, they landed, Sesshoumaru bracing himself for the irritations to come. As the sun began to set, he walked alongside the miko and her steed, his nose wrinkling as the first of the wolves’ musty hide tents came into view.

“KAGOME-CHAN!”

Sesshoumaru glared as Kouga burst through the pines, landing in a crouch atop Entei’s broad neck. Hand to his chest, the wolf bowed his head before Kagome, his eyes screwed shut in relief.

“Thank the gods you’re safe,” he muttered, leaping nimbly to the ground when the horse shook him off in annoyance. “I sent those idiots out to find you, but they’re as useless as they look.”

“Kouga-onii-sama…” his underlings whimpered pathetically behind him.

“Sorry to worry you, Kouga-kun,” Kagome said with a smile that made Sesshoumaru’s claws curl. Demurely, she looked to him instead. “I won’t take off alone like that again.”

Her deference appeased him—as did her insinuation. Striding forward, he left her to entertain the gathering mongrels. Jakken and Ah-Un were nowhere in sight—still on the trail of the missing miko, no doubt. Grateful for his vassal’s absence, Sesshoumaru ascended the ridge and approached the barrier. Now that his earlier frustrations had been spent, he was eager to try the sword again.

But as night fell, Sesshoumaru found himself no closer to achieving his goal. Instead of burning him, Tessaiga now simply reverted back to its original, rusted state at the first application of force. Though he could see the blade’s red form even more clearly now, bringing about a second transformation seemed just as infuriatingly out of reach to him as it had before.

So intent on the task, it was a moment before he noticed her approach. Narrowly, his eyes slid to her as she sat beside him on the rock.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Kagome explained, reddening. Her gaze fell to the sword in his hands. “Making progress?”

Sesshoumaru’s jaw clenched, his agitation peaking. His first, better instinct was to tell her to leave him be. But when had he ever followed his best judgment where this wretched girl was concerned?

“The fang still refuses to adopt a second form,” he bit out instead. “It resists my control, as it has from the beginning.”

The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. To admit his failings to himself was irksome enough–to speak them aloud was not something his pride had ever before allowed. Not that he had felt compelled to voice them. What good did it do, to commiserate with others?

Kagome nodded in understanding. “Tessaiga sure seems to have a will of its own, doesn’t it?” Warmly, she met his gaze. “But you’re its wielder now. If it’ll transform once for you, surely it’ll transform again.”

Oddly, her confidence restored a bit of his own. Easing his grip on the frayed hilt, he studied her expression–tired, yet unflappable as ever. Perhaps this was her true strength, that she never seemed to doubt or to despair.

“If Tessaiga has a will,” Sesshoumaru said after a moment, “then it is that of my father.”

“Makes sense,” she replied, nodding again. Her eyes took on an inquisitive gleam. “What was he like, anyway? Inuyasha didn’t seem to know much about him.”

“Eccentric,” Sesshoumaru answered diplomatically. Regardless of his personal differences with the Inu no Taishou, he would not disrespect his departed father in speaking. “Powerful, even amongst daiyoukai, though in his later years, he became increasingly preoccupied with mortal affairs.”

As you well know, his pointed gaze conveyed.

Kagome’s expression turned dry. “I take it you two didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye?”

“An understatement,” he admitted shortly. Lifting Tessaiga before him, he watched his own reflection warp and blur along the battered blade. “A sword whose power is awakened by weakness. What could Chichi-ue have meant, commissioning such a blade?”

“Maybe that strength doesn’t really mean anything, unless you have something to protect.”

Sesshoumaru looked to her, her own gaze distant and contemplative. She seemed unaware that she was running her fingers through the fur of his tail, but he felt no inclination to stop her. Her voice was soft as she spoke, as if from far away.

“I don’t think Inuyasha ever believed he could save Kikyou. Maybe she was beyond saving, at that point. Whether Tessaiga failed him, or he failed Tessaiga, I can’t say.” Faintly shimmering, her eyes rose to his once again. “But he trusted this sword, and even though he asked a lot of it at times, it trusted him, too.”

Sesshoumaru frowned in consideration. Mixed as his feelings were regarding Tenseiga, he understood what it meant to trust in one’s blade. Perhaps Tessaiga had not been the only one slow to accept its change in ownership.

Stifling a yawn with the back of her hand, Kagome leaned into him, the end of his tail going around her instinctively as he made no conscious decision to prevent it. It felt good to have her close to him, though the realization itself was unsettling.

“Go back to your bed,” he warned her.

Undeterred, she curled her fingers deeper into his fur, mumbling drowsily, “But I want to stay here with you…”

And when had he ever denied her? Grimly, Sesshoumaru turned his gaze to the moon above. How his father would enjoy seeing him humbled so.

It was this rueful thought that stayed with him throughout the night, mellowing to resignation by the time the first rays of sun slanted over the horizon. The girl was sleeping against him still. Standing from the rock, he let his tail slide beneath her and around her, Tessaiga transforming in his beleaguered hand.

Approaching the barrier once more, he lifted the golden blade high above him, and asked.

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi