Leave the Past Behind

Kintsuke lie awake well into the night despite her greatest efforts. Her mind continued the seemingly impossible task of trying to fit together the pieces of her encounter with Sesshoumaru earlier that day. None of what she had seen, known, and experienced of him before matched easily with his current incarnation. She dared to hope, but not to believe, that perhaps somewhere through the years he had managed to change.

'He let you go, didn't he?'

'Yes, but that doesn't prove anything.'

Unable to sleep, she finally sat up, making her way outside to give in to the pondering that demanded her attention. Now and then, she picked up the scent of poison that still clung to her; or was it only in her head? Something in her chest ached each time, and it puzzled her. What the hell was wrong with her? Slowly, as she let her mind wander from thought to thought, examining how his memory and influence had haunted her through the years and how she had reacted that day, she came to realize what it was.

She had wanted to see him. In some depraved, twisted way, without realizing it, she had missed him.

Kintsuke laughed at herself, almost appalled by the revelation. She forced herself to believe it was only because he was something familiar, and familiar was comforting to her right now. There was nothing more to it. There couldn't be, and she wouldn't let there be.

'But you want there to be something, don't you?'

She blinked at the thought.

…Did she?

***

1552, late-Muromachi Period, Winter

'Still so innocent…'

Kintsuke mused as she recalled the way Rin had bidden her farewell. The girl was overflowing with life, with simple and pure intentions, and Kintsuke wondered just how long she would be able to remain unchanged in the face of a world filled with tragedy.

She was many miles from the village by now, making slow progress. Patches of the land were frozen over and she had to watch her step as she found her way back towards her old territory. To be honest, she wasn't quite sure exactly where it had been, but as she laid eyes on the valley with its gently sloping hill and cavern, she knew she had arrived. Unfortunately, so had the humans.

To her great displeasure, Kintsuke found her former home had become a human village, the valley now a series of rice patties, the cavern in the hill something akin to a shrine. She waited until it was dark to explore further, finding stables, a small quarry further down the way, and a great chunk of the forest now missing. She recalled how it had looked before, the serene and simple beauty of it all, and found herself filling with rage. These humans, these…creatures…they'd destroyed everything beautiful here.

A memory sparked again, as they so often did now that she had returned to Japan, and she flitted quickly to find the old tree where she'd buried her late friend Shinjirou and his family. Amazingly, it was still there, along with the worn and faded headstone she'd erected. Perplexingly, she found traces of incense and other human-traditional gifts for the dead set neatly around it. Surely, they did not know it was a demon memorial; else they would not have bothered to be so respectful. Still, the fact that they'd preserved it lessened her anger slightly towards what they had done to the landscape.

She took a glance around, ensuring none were watching before she knelt near the headstone, brushing some of the dirt and frost from the top of it before pressing her hand against the chilled surface. She allowed herself only a moment of remembrance, apologizing silently to her friend for having been gone so long, and that she could not watch over his resting place as she desired to. Loneliness panged in her heart, warming her eyes and she shoved the rising tears away as reiki suddenly buzzed at the edge of her senses; it was time to go.

From a safe distance, Kintsuke watched a seasoned miko inspect the gravesite cautiously. Seeming satisfied that the area was clear of whatever she had felt, the woman knelt to tidy the grave, lighting fresh incense in the snow and holding a hand up in prayer before returning to the village. Kintsuke felt a part of her heart go out to the woman, thanking her silently before finally departing.

This place was lost to her; just another human claim now. She would have to find a new place to settle.

***

1553, late-Muromachi Period, Summer

Sesshoumaru nodded through his latest meeting with Rekkonji, which this time included the Tengu leader Commander Hiken in the discussions of the ever-changing landscape. Each of them was used to near-stagnation in the humans and most of their own kind, however lately the mortal's affairs were developing quickly and required a more constant vigil. That was Hiken's specialty with the power of his Murder at the ready to secure the northern territories.

As the avian rose and departed, Sesshoumaru finished his tea and moved to follow, pausing momentarily to glance back at the old jackal.

"Perhaps, one final thing you will find of interest…"

Rekkonji gave a motion that he was listening.

"It seems that you were incorrect about her; the hanyou is yet alive."

It took Rekkonji a moment to understand what he meant, brows twitching as it dawned on him.

"And how do you know this?"

"I happened to cross her path. It is the understanding of this Sesshoumaru that she is now settled somewhere in the south."

Having said his piece Sesshoumaru left, not seeing the slight smirk that pulled at the old war master's face.

'Well, I'll be damned, the old dog was right after all…'

Rekkonji chuckled a bit to himself as he tidied up after his guests on his own. He would have to take a trip to the south sometime, he decided, to see with his own eyes, as Sesshoumaru had, the state of that ever-elusive half-demon who was so full of surprises.

Sesshoumaru himself had spoken with Kintsuke again only once when he crossed paths with her on her way to find a new home. He'd reminded her that the western province was open to her, but she had been determined. He remembered the uncomfortable ache in his chest as he'd watched her continue on in confidence, out of sight and out of his reach once again without so much as a glance back.

He frowned inwardly at the memory.

Had he been hoping she would hesitate, perhaps reconsider? Indeed, he had. Such silly things came to mind where this female was concerned, not so unlike all those years before. Despite the possible weakness it posed, he could not deny that he wanted to know her again as she was now, to have her near him; and as the years trickled by, he would find that the sentiment only strengthened.

He desired that contented sensation she sparked within him. He had long felt that despite all he had accomplished there was still something missing. They sometimes crossed paths in their various travels, always passing in silence. Each time she was near he felt that sensation fade, but never completely for she always passed him by without so much as a cursory glance.

Her eyes were still sharp when she looked upon him, and he did not begrudge her the lingering suspicion that made her tense each time they met. Where he was concerned, she was similar to an injured wolf. He understood that this had been his own doing and as such he would be responsible for taking the steps to prove he was no longer the childish entity that had caused her such suffering if he truly desired even the simplest acquaintance with her.

As much as he desired that reconciliation, however, it would have to wait.

Not only were there rumors of usurpation in the south which he sought to take advantage of, but after convincing her that she would only meet her death if she traveled with him again, Rin had settled down, married, and was currently pregnant. With the birth now just a breath away, he'd remained in the area, ensuring none would even attempt to ravage the colony where his ward had chosen to nest. Judging from the scent on the air, his hanyou had entertained a similar idea. He kept his sharp eyes ever watchful now not only for the demons and malicious spirits but her.

'Mine? My hanyou?'

He allowed himself a slight smile and shoved away the sentiments of old.

'No, that one is not to be owned.'