Archive of Our Own ^beta

A fickle heart is the only constant in this world – Diana Wynne Jones

Jaken is many things. He is an imp, wielder of Nintojo, former leader of the imp tribe, and loyal servant to Sesshomaru. He is small, but resourceful. He is intelligent, determined, and never a coward. He is proud. He is fierce. He is—

Completely and utterly screwed.

“Oh no,” Jaken murmurs faintly, staring at the two babies sleeping in a nearby, makeshift cradle. Jaken is many things, but he is not, in fact, a babysitter.

Only apparently, he is.

“Huh,” he continues aloud, for reasons beyond him. There’s no one around to hear him suffer but the trees. “This may be a challenge.”

But Jaken is not resourceful and intelligent and determined for no reason. It’s because he is a survivor, a worker, a dedicated servant to the embodiment of perfection and brilliance. If he has been challenged to take care of two young…younglings…then he’ll do it and he’ll do it with aplomb. Determination renewed, his eyes narrow in pleased satisfaction.

Oh yes, Jaken thinks. He can do this. He’ll be the best babysitter that the world has ever seen.

One of the babies, with silver hair and a tuft of red at the very crown, blinks open sleepy and heavy eyes. It peers at him, like the dawning of the sun. One second passes. Another. Jaken smiles at it because it is a young thing and surely, his happiness would mean its happiness. The baby opens its mouth – oh goodness, a giggle will come, he just knows it! Jaken is so great! The best! Babysitter! Ever! – and then it shrieks.

Which immediately awakens the dark-haired one.

Now, they’re both crying.

Jaken thinks, rather horrified, that he is completely and utterly screwed.

He’s not just screwed. He’s fucked.

“What do you mean, he’s left?” Jaken demands of A-Un, incredulous. “Left for where?”

The dragon demon simply blinks at him. Useless. Utterly useless. Does it do anything but eat grass and glare balefully at him? Jaken thinks not. Jaken thinks a lot of things, especially that he looks right now like an utter fool. He’s bouncing, rather idiotically, holding the silver-haired baby that’s still sobbing into his shoulder. The baby is nearly as big as him.

None of this is going well.

Somehow, luckily, the dark-haired baby has calmed itself. Jaken stands by its cradle. Honestly, he’s amazed he’s even remembered there’s a second one. The silver-haired baby just sobs so much that the dark-haired baby’s random, but often ear-piercing, momentary shrieks are the only reminder Jaken receives that – oh yes – there’s another one.

“Please stop,” Jaken begs, quiet and near pitiful. He gets a beak full of hair for his trouble. “You’re so loud.”

The baby does not. The baby is shaking: trembling, really. Since Jaken is approximately of the same size, that means that he’s shaking and trembling.

It’s so embarrassing. He wishes, for a brief, yet vicious moment, that some wicked demon would come and eat him. Whole. One bite and then done.

In front of him, A-Un casually bends its neck to graze. Jaken glares at it. He’s never met a demon that does nothing more than eat. Eat, eat, eat, eat—

Yes, Jaken thinks, a strike of inspiration hitting him. Yes, eat.

He shoves the baby away from him, holding it at arm’s length. It’s a bad decision – the swaddled baby nearly collapses since it can’t, you know, stand – and so Jaken has some major regrets. Still, he smiles at the baby, pleased. He’s a genius. An utter genius.

The babies are hungry.

“You want food,” Jaken tells it proudly.

The silver-haired monster is turning purple, it’s so unhappy.

“Milk,” he goes on, working it out. These younglings are half-demon and half-human. They need milk, sustenance. They must be hungry! A simple enough fix. All Jaken needs is milk.

He pauses, blinks, and pulls the baby back to him so that he can turn around in a tiny circle to view his surroundings. He’s in the middle of a forest. There are no humans in sight, never mind milk-producing ones.

“Oh no,” Jaken wails. He pats at the baby’s back ineffectively, and sniffles a little himself.

By the time he’s halfway to the nearest village, Jaken is whimpering. “Just a little longer,” he promises. He pets at the children he’s swaddled onto either side of A-Un’s saddle. “I promise, we’re halfway there.”

The silver-haired baby hiccups its weak and trembling cries. The dark-haired one simply whines and shakes. They’re so small. So young and so delicate, and Jaken feels like he’s already failed. Despite being given watch over them only a few hours ago, everything has fallen apart. They haven’t stopped crying. He can’t provide milk. He has no idea how he’ll even get milk. But he’ll think of something. He’s Jaken. He’s an imp, a proud former ruler and an intelligent being. He can solve this. He will solve this.

“Halfway there,” he promises again.

It’s the first time he’s made a promise to anyone other than Sesshomaru. It feels strange. It feels horrible.

It feels, oddly, right.

The goat stares at him balefully. Jaken is downright offended.

“You should be pleased,” he tells it, flinching backwards when the animal takes his subtle reach around as a threat. The goat yells at him. Jaken really wishes he hadn’t left Nintojo with A-Un. This is far more difficult than he had imagined. It had been hard enough to get to the village, the closest one for miles and miles. It was harder, still, to find a stable with animals in it that produced milk.

But Jaken had persevered. He’s Sesshomaru’s most loyal follower for a reason. He is dedicated to the children put under his care and this task cannot shake him of that responsibility.

The goat bleats, overly loud. Jaken lets out a frustrated cry. Can’t he just get some milk? The goat should be grateful, considering it would feed the offspring of the greatest demon to ever live. Didn’t it get that?

Jaken takes a step forward but the goat, apparently, has had enough. It goes to butt at him, a strategic takedown that the imp only barely gets away from. He dances around it, assessing for a weak spot. Stupid goats. Stupid, stupid creatures. Jaken should have brought Nintojo – the fire would have terrified it into submission! But A-Un is hiding behind a gathering of trees on the border of this farm, keeping the little ones safe.

All Jaken needs is to procure some milk and…and transfer it somehow...and then he can feed the babies. This is possible. He is smart and resourceful. He will not let Lord Sesshomaru down.

“You will hinder me no more!” Jaken cries, narrowing his eyes at the goat before him. “Back down before I—”

But the goat – such a dumb, stupid, crazy creature – has decided enough is enough. It attacks swiftly, butting into his space. Jaken dodges the attack but is forced into a corner. He quickly eyes the open window he had entered in, cursing the fact that there is no stack of wood in here as there was outside to help him sneak in. The goat bleats again, lunges, and Jaken screams.

A loud bang startles both him and the goat, who raises itself onto its back legs as it skittishly bolts. Jaken is frozen, unable to move as he stares at a frightening sight. There, in the open doorway of the stable, stands an old woman with a pitchfork. She does not look the least bit afraid.

“Go away!” she yells, aggressively pointing the tool at him. “Get!”

And Jaken—

Jaken is going to scream. The goat before him looks absolutely smug, even though it’s backed itself into a corner. He’s so offended by this that he feels tears come to his eyes. A goat. A goat is mocking him.

The old woman takes a step forward, into the barn, and Jaken can’t believe the absolute audacity—

A human woman, coming at him with a pitchfork?

Thank goodness Lord Sesshomaru isn’t around to see this. Actually—

“Do you know who I serve?” Jaken bites out, at his wit’s end and feeling crazy with it. “Lord Sesshomaru could destroy this entire village before you could even blink! You should be so lucky to have your stock feed his—”

“I don’t know who that is,” the woman snaps back at him. And she—

Did she just—?

“How dare you interrupt me!” Jaken cries out. “You ungrateful—!”

The old woman takes a menacing step closer, pitchfork lowered. “You think I care? I don’t! Now go! You won’t be killing anything today, you hear?”

Yelling at her isn’t working. Jaken slams his beak shut, calculating. If he can’t scare her into submission, then he must go to his immediate fall-back: charm.

“Killing something?” he asks, putting on an air of innocence as best as he can. “I would never! I mean, who would come to your home and do such a thing? I would never.” The old woman only rolls her eyes, but Jaken is brilliant. He is resourceful. He will win this. “How could I, a lowly creature, such as I, ever think of killing one of your—your—” He eyes the goat hatefully. “Lovely pets.”

“You’re not the first demon to come around here and try,” the woman sneers back. She steps forward again, waving the pitchfork at him meaningfully. “Now, go out the way you came! Leave my animals alone.”

“But I wouldn’t—”

“Go!”

Jaken scowls. This woman is an old witch if he ever saw one. Well, if charm doesn’t work then he has only one last play. One final trick to pull from his sleeve. The only thing he can do is—

“Demon!” the woman threatens, and this time the pitchfork nearly swipes at his robe. “Go away and don’t come back!”

Beg.

“No! ” Jaken wails, loud and desolate as he crumples to the floor. He tells himself that it’s all an act. So what if the tears are a little too quick to come? He’s just a fantastic actor, along with being a devoted and dutiful servant. Anything for Lord Sesshomaru. Anything to prove his loyalty. “Oh no! No, please, you don’t understand!” He kowtows until his head thunks on the hard-packed earth, does it again and again and again. “Please, you wretched and horrible hag, let me have some milk!”

Oh god, he’s going to fail. He’s not going to get milk and the children will starve. He will be unable to provide and Lord Sesshomaru will slaughter him without question at such a dismal showing of his faithfulness and talent. He would deserve it. Jaken would deserve more than one death at the hands of his master. If the children—If the children—

“Please! ” he wails, and this time it’s not remotely an act. “Think of the children! Think of the children! They’re babies, you impossible witch! Already so weak. Oh, lord, and they’re half-human .” Jaken, somehow, failed to connect even this. Demonic children weren’t particularly hardy creatures, but they were far less frail than their human counterparts. With half-muddled blood flowing in the veins of Lord Sesshomaru’s children, surely their time was—

Jaken is the worst caretaker ever. “Milk!” he weeps, head shaking back and forth in despair. “What I wouldn’t give for some milk!”

So lost in his own angst, he doesn’t even realize until he hears stuttered footsteps that the old woman isn’t threatening him any more. In fact, it isn’t until she whispers, “Human children?” that Jaken opens his eyes. The pitchfork has been lowered, though it’s not entirely away from him. Her face has softened though, her grey eyes less steel and more thundercloud. Jaken feels the wretchedness of hope cling within him, a dumping of fresh soil that lines his demonic heart. He blinks at her, tears blinding him.

“You’re here for milk?” the woman asks, sounding almost tentative.

Jaken can’t help the way his heart thuds painfully in his chest, the same way he can’t help his face as it scowls deeply, throat catching on a growl. “Foolish human, are you deaf? Of course I’m here for milk! That’s what I’ve been saying!”

The old woman’s face doesn’t change. In a moment of panic, Jaken sees his Lord Sesshomaru in the way her face masks the depth of her thoughts. It’s dispelled only a second later, when the pitchfork is pulled back up and towards her side, away from him. “Why do you have human children in your care?”

“Half-human,” Jaken bites out, “and half-demon.”

She gasps a little. If the barn wasn’t so unnaturally quiet, he may not have heard. Jaken’s heart threatens to run away again, fear of her hatred for demons cracking his ribs. Could she turn on him now? Cast him out and away?

Jaken cannot let that stand. He will not fail his master. “They need milk,” he presses, blinking up big eyes at her. The tears that have yet to fall blurry his gaze. “If I can get some, I’ll leave.”

At that, the old woman narrows her eyes. “And then what? Starve them after an hour has past?” Her lips curl and her body twists, flat against the door. She points towards the outside. “Show them to me.”

“What?” Jaken maybe should have expected this, but he hadn’t. He stumbles in his haste to rise, in his misstep of a spiralling situation. “No! You do not get to see the children!”

“How can I believe you, otherwise?” the old woman responds, sharp and knowing. The upper hand is hers. Jaken sneers, but he isn’t stupid. He never would have lasted with Lord Sesshomaru if he had been. The woman has all the leverage, and Jaken can either turn her away and fail, or allow her to come close and…possibly succeed.

Lord Sesshomaru may not kill him yet.

“Fine,” he bites out, scrambling out the door. If worse comes to worse, A-Un can blast her to dust.

The woman keeps a wary distance from him, though she follows behind. The pitchfork does not leave her hands. It’s a foolish, stupid thing. Even without A-Un, Jaken could wield Nintojo and burn her like the witch she is. He keeps this thought at the forefront, running towards the trees where he knows the dragon is waiting. “A-Un! Come out this instant!”

There’s a low rumble, and he hears the stutter-stop of footsteps behind him. He grins, pleased, as he sneaks a glance her way and sees her fear. A-Un is good for something after all, even if it’s to strike fear into the hearts of weak-willed humans.

A tiny cry wipes the smile from his face. Even after so little time in their presence, Jaken is acutely aware of their whimpers. He rushes towards A-Un and when the dragon growls, he whips around to see the old woman following, closer than before. Her face is a shuttered mask, all determination and hidden fear. Jaken takes a breath and waves A-Un down, pointing towards where he’s carefully swaddled the twins in their tiny holsters.

To her credit, the woman only flinches once when A-Un snorts at her, clearly displeased. She peers into the attachments of the saddle, grey eyes widening as she sees them. Instantly, she reaches in to pull the dark-haired one out, distress clear in every line of her body. “They’re shaking,” she says, and Jaken scoffs at her.

“That’s what I said!”

“You said nothing,” the old woman states coldly, immediately getting the other child into her arms. It’s like a slap in the face, a rock thrown at his body. This human wretch is nothing like his Lord Sesshomaru, and yet he can hear the strength in her voice, in the power it commands. She is nothing more than an old hag, but there’s not a wisp of fear as she turns those eyes on him. “Whose children are these?”

Jaken sneers. It’s the only way to stop himself from answering her immediately. She is no master of his. “I told you that, too. You must be deaf!”

She turns away without answering him, taking the children with her. Jaken blinks and turns to glare at A-Un. The dragon huffs and makes to follow.

“What, you too?” Jaken demands. When it’s clear that he’s on the losing side, he runs as fast as his legs will carry him. “Hey! Hey, you witch, wait! You take one more step without me and I’ll—”

“You said they needed milk,” the woman says, never once turning his way. “And you’re right. I’m getting them milk.”

“You can’t just—” Jaken huffs for breath, irritated as he barely catches up to her. “You can’t just take them away! My master will have your head and slaughter your village.”

“If your master cares at all for these children, they’ll think before doing such a thing. These babies are days old. Do you know how often they need to feed?”

Jaken makes a face, looking to A-Un for commiseration. The useless dragon doesn’t even deign to look at him. “Twice a day?”

The old woman chuffs out a laugh. It isn’t kind. “My daughter is still breastfeeding her child. He’s a bit more grown. We’ll make it work.”

It sounds like a plan. It sounds rather ominous. Jaken can do nothing but run after the old woman’s hurried footsteps, following her towards her home. It isn’t until the old woman turns, pausing in the doorway, that Jaken gets a second’s reprieve. His wheezing lungs are grateful.

“If you enter my home,” she states, voice as firm and deadly as any wielded blade, “you will do no harm. You will not destroy any of these walls or hurt a single hair on the head of any human in this house. Your demon chariot stays outside. Have I made myself clear?”

Instinct has Jaken puffing up, defiance ingrained into his very bones. No one orders him around but Lord Sesshomaru, and those are not orders, but welcome requests. This—This isn’t that at all. This is something different, and Jaken opens his mouth to tell her exactly where to shove it when the silver-haired baby starts once more to cry, weak and pitiful.

His heart catches, squeezes.

Jaken nods.

“Good,” the old woman replies, nodding. “Then come inside.”

The old woman, he learns, has a name. This is a fact that isn’t surprising, but Jaken’s already got several nicknames in his head. None of them are pleasant, but since she’s an old witch, he hadn’t initially cared.

He cares a little now, watching with wide eyes as Ishi lays the children down on a blanket-covered table. “Kuwa! Come here, child.”

Jaken watches, eyes wide, as heavy footsteps get closer and closer. Within seconds, a young woman bursts into the room, her pale features startling compared to her dark, fathomless gaze. She searches the room instantly, sees Jaken but then discards him as she approaches her mother.

At least, that’s what Jaken assumes. He knows little of humans, after all.

“Okaa-san?” the woman – Kuwa – asks, a frown on her face. “Where did you find these children?”

“Our demon friend brought them to us,” Ishi states briskly. Jaken watches as her face softens, slightly, when she turns to her daughter. “They need to feed. Can you?”

Kuwa frowns slightly but nods. She briefly leaves the room and Jaken watches her go like one watches wild horses stampeding by, worried about a potential trampling. He edges closer to the old woman, hating how his view of the babies disappears the closer he gets. Ishi tuts as the children cry harder, their blankets coming away.

“Now Towa,” the old woman murmurs gently, “you’ll be okay. A little longer, child.”

“Towa?” he blurts out, unable to stop himself. “You—You can’t name them! They aren’t yours! They are the daughters of my master, Lord—”

“Oh hush, you toad,” Ishi grumbles. “It’s hardly naming them if the names are sewn into their blankets, hm?”

Their names are…on the blankets? Jaken makes an indignant noise, pushing up onto his toes in a useless fit of irritation. He cannot see and there’s no chance for him to see. The babies are his! His responsibility and his duty to care for. This old hag taking over is unacceptable. Jaken should not allow it. He should go back out to A-Un and retrieve Nintojo and—

“Pull up a chair before you strain yourself,” Ishi snaps, head gesturing towards a nearby set of them surrounding a small, wooden table.

Jaken does so, but he ensures that he glares at the old hag the entire time. It takes him a while to get onto the seat, and then another slight struggle before he’s standing on the table, looking down at the two innocent and sad faces of his whimpering wards. His chest hurts.

And then he sees the names. Sewn on with incredible delicacy, Jaken can see the names Towa and Setsuna etched into the soft blankets, now unwrapped from their bodies. They must have been on the inside, he realizes, knowing that he couldn’t have missed such an obvious detail. Towa – the silver-haired baby – has a face twisted in displeasure, tiny fists shoving into her own face. Ishi is quick to gently move them away. “Keep them from doing that,” she declares. “Their nails are far too long. Kuwa, where are you?”

Jaken carefully sits himself down between the babies, his hands hesitating over their small forms. Setsuna, the dark-haired one, stares at him before her face crumples, a shout coming out. Towa starts to cry loudly, almost immediately after. This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to him. “Oh no,” he panics, hands immediately poking at their tiny, baby fingers. Setsuna grasps on near instantly, grip like a hunter’s trap. Towa bats at him like a toy. “No, no, please stop crying! You’re getting food! You’ll be okay!” Towa gets even louder and Setsuna looks to be turning a shade of purple that cannot be good. Oh no, oh no.

“It’s okay!” comes a cooing voice. Kuwa steps back in, a blanket draped over her shoulder as she approaches the table. Ishi is right behind her. Jaken feels both painful relief and a terrible regret as each woman takes a child, removing him from responsibility. They head towards a rocking chair in the corner and then Jaken nearly screams in horror as the young woman starts to—to—

“What are you doing?” he cries out, aghast. “Have some propriety!”

Ishi scoffs at him. She steps a little more in front of her daughter, body a shield and blocking Jaken’s sight. “She’s feeding them. What do you think?” She asks him like he’s being stupid.

Jaken thinks this is all rather uncalled for. “But I’m still here!”

“Would you leave?” Ishi demands, eyebrows raised. “You, little toad, would you leave the room? I thought you were meant to protect them.”

And that—

That—

“How dare you!” Jaken wails, turning around and glaring at the wall. He hears the whimpers die away, hears shushing sounds and the odd hum. For the first time since he’s met her, Ishi makes a happy noise. “Good,” she says gently, “that’s good.”

“They’re so hungry,” Kuwa murmurs, and Jaken feels the statement like a sword running through him. Hours. He had them for hours and could not provide. Now, he’s in this house that’s home to two human women and being told what to do like an idiot. But – and the thought makes his insides feel like they’re twisting up inside him – are they really so wrong? How quickly he had almost failed Lord Sesshomaru. Given one simple task, and Jaken had nearly ruined it all.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, glaring at the wall. His butt is sore, but after the harrowing and desperately long journey, it feels almost like no time has passed at all. He hears the old woman shuffle towards him, but doesn’t dare to turn around. He can feel his mouth curving down, indecision and guilt and uncertainty making him bitter and confused. “What?” he demands, aiming for haughty. He misses by a mile.

Ishi sighs. If Jaken were to care – which he doesn’t – then it would possibly sound disappointed. “They’re nearly done, I think.”

He sniffs. “Well, then. We can be on our way.”

The old woman laughs at him then. It’s still the unkind bark of laughter as she gave before. “You know nothing about children, do you?”

Her rudeness knows no bounds. Jaken itches for Nintojo, if only to hit her with. Old witches don’t warrant respect. “The last child that came into my care was already fully formed.”

That, at least, gets him a snort. “Do you often take in orphans?”

“These aren’t orphans,” Jaken hisses, bold enough to twist around to glare at her. “These are the children of the great Lord Sesshomaru! Have some respect! It is my duty as his loyal servant to take care of them.”

Ishi doesn’t even flinch. She raises her eyebrows at him, unimpressed. “And where is this great lord of yours?”

Sniffing haughtily, Jaken crosses his arms. “That is none of your business.”

“I see.” Ishi sighs again. “Well, I’ll tell you this. Unless your tiny toad body can produce milk, or you can find a milk mother to travel with you, then you’re shit out of luck. The babes will need to feed every hour or two.”

“Every…” Jaken’s mouth falls open in clear horror. “Every hour or two?” Are they as fat and useless as A-Un, then? Are all they good for is eating? “You’re lying, you witch! You can’t fool me.”

“Okaa-san,” Kuwa starts, and the imp nearly collapses on the table he startles so hard. “Don’t let him speak to you like this.”

“He’s an idiot,” Ishi says casually. “He can’t help it. Do you see his head? It’s too small for a proper brain.”

“Hey!” Jaken cries out, affronted. “I’ll have you know—”

“The babies will need to be fed in another hour,” Kuwa cuts in. Unlike her mother, there’s a viciousness in her tone, all crackling and burning fire compared to the cool, immovable steel of her parent. “If you don’t like it, then leave.”

“They’ll starve then!” he cries out, only realizing that the woman is still breastfeeding. He turns back around to the wall hastily. “I can’t take them away if they won’t be able to eat!”

“Who said anything about you taking them with you?” Kuwa asks, mean, and Jaken gasps at the very thought. The twins, no longer in his care? Lord Sesshomaru would be so mad. He’d kill Jaken instantly, wouldn’t even wait for a reason. And Jaken would deserve it, too. His failure to best serve his master and his offspring is the greatest offense he’s ever committed.

Swallowing the instinctual bite of words he wishes to unleash, Jaken stews in silence. Ishi remains solid at his back, unmoving. Kuwa makes the occasional shushing noises at the babies. It hurts, in an acutely painful way, that this foolish human woman is able to care for the children and he cannot.

“Fine,” Jaken eventually grits out. “We’ll stay here until I can find other arrangements.”

He expects Kuwa to be mocking or Ishi to sigh again. Instead, it’s quiet in the room until the old woman gives a hum. “It’ll be okay.”

“I know that,” he gripes. Tears come to his eyes again, unbidden. What a horrible, horrible thing to happen. Jaken wants to be eaten whole by a demon yet again.

“Good,” Ishi tells him. “Then first things first: if you’re to stay here, I’ll need your name. I can’t keep calling you a toad in my head.”

“Even though it fits,” Kuwa grumbles, barely audible.

Ishi sighs and mutters out her name sharply. Her daughter is cowed. “Well?”

Does he truly have a choice? “Jaken,” he says finally, telling the wall as much as he is the two ungrateful humans behind him.

“It’s a good thing you came to our house  rather than the neighbours,” Ishi tells him firmly. “Now the next thing: your bed.”

“I can sleep on the floor,” he argues.

“Not if you’re caring for these children,” the old woman immediately points out. “Babies need skin contact to survive.”

Skin… Skin contact?

“What?” Jaken asks, horrified all over again. “What else do these children need, the whole moon?”

Ishi stares at him impassively with that blank face of hers. It’s unnerving until, from behind her, Kuwa snorts inelegantly from her spot in the rocking chair. Jaken almost makes the mistake of trying to look at her, but stops himself at the last moment.

“Oh, you foolish little toad,” Kuwa says, sounding delighted.

Jaken doesn’t even have anything to say to that.

“You want me,” Jaken says carefully, aware that Ishi is still sighing at him rather a lot, “to…cuddle with them?”

The old woman glares at him, grey eyes sharp. “What do you think you’re supposed to do?”

This feels like a trick question. It’s proof that Ishi isn’t truly like his Lord Sesshomaru. The great dog demon would never, ever say anything less than an order. The old hag just kind of…challenges him. It feels like a personal attack. Jaken makes a face. “How should I know? I didn’t birth them!”

He knows it’s the wrong thing to say. The twins, Towa and Setsuna, are wrapped up in what looks like a cocoon, only their faces poking out. They’re sleeping peacefully, something that Jaken hasn’t yet seen since the very first moments he laid eyes on them. His chest tightens, the fresh soil in his lungs softening. There’s something there, growing, but Jaken refuses to look at it. There are too many other things to consider.

Like Ishi, glaring at him still.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Jaken demands, waving his hands at her.

“You said that you’re their caretaker,” she replies, “so take care of them.”

Jaken stares at her for half a second before he sighs, looking back down at the babies. “Cuddling?”

“Let them feel you near,” Ishi tells him. “Get in.”

Jaken wants to point out that he’s not a baby, and therefore, his crawling into a crib is not only mortifying, but also below him. He is a humble servant of the great Lord Sesshomaru. He is not… He does not go into cribs! “This is undignified,” he gripes, slowly making his way into the crib. The fact that this old hag has such a piece of furniture raises questions, but Jaken’s too tired to figure it out. It’s been a long day.

It’s not until he’s settled right in the middle of the two girls, their little wrapped up bodies along his sides, that he shoots yet another glare up at Ishi. “Are you happy?” he hisses.

The old woman hums. “It’s a good thing you’re so small. You couldn’t roll over the babies even if you tried.”

And wow. Wow!

“How—!” But Towa – it’s always Towa – makes a little sound and he immediately shuts his beak. He glares at the old woman instead, and Jaken prays that it wipes a few years off her life. Not like she had much left, really. Ishi is clearly old. Despite her steely eyes, her body is hunched and weathered from age. There are lines set across her face, tucked in the corner of her eyes. Her hair, wisped and mostly fallen out of her tied-back style, is a deep and peppered grey.

“You’re doing this purposefully,” Jaken mutters at her, arms curling protectively around the tops of the children. “Just wait until they’re awake.”

“I,” Ishi says briskly, “will be asleep.” Her weathered hands reach into the crib and bring up a small blanket to smooth over himself. He’s still wearing his robes, but the house is already a little cool from the night air, the fire in the other room. It’s almost… Nice?

No. Old hags aren’t nice.

“Sleep well, Jaken,” she continues. “Kuwa is in the other room. She’ll hear the babies when they wish to be fed.”

It’s a strange sentence, foreign to him. He frowns in thought. “How will she know?” Babies, as far as he’s aware, don’t talk. Even demon ones.

“They’ll cry,” Ishi tells him. Jaken swears there’s a ghost of a smile in her lips, the tiniest suggestion of a curve. “Loudly.”

“But— But—” Jaken looks down at Towa and Setsuna, at the way their little heads are tilted towards his body, tiny parentheses. “Do they do anything besides cry?”

“Do you do anything besides whine?” Ishi retorts. Jaken gapes up at her, affronted yet again and feeling blindsided about it, as he watches her leave. She blows out the candles and the room falls into darkness.

Jaken sighs and settles in. The warmth of the children is already a familiar weight against his side. “Of course I do more than whine,” he grumbles, glaring at the ceiling. “Lord Sesshomaru would never accept such a whiner in his group. Why, he’d kill them with his own hands!”

Towa and Setsuna have nothing to say to that. It’s just as well.

“Your father is a very, very strong demon,” Jaken murmurs, softer now. “He’s unbeatable. The greatest demon to ever live. You’re very lucky to have such a father. And me, of course! You’ll never find a more devoted servant.”

He imagines they agree, even though they are fast asleep. It’s alright, Jaken thinks. He’ll tell them in the morning.

When they start crying bloody murder the first time, Jaken nearly tumbles out of the crib in his haste to figure out what’s wrong. Kuwa comes in, feeds them, and he politely stares at the wall the entire time. It’s a weird silence, but Jaken refuses to leave the room. Lord Sesshomaru put his children in his responsibility. Jaken would rather die than let them out of his sight.

“Help me settle them?” the young woman asks some time later.

Jaken turns around and is immediately handed Setsuna, her dark hair poking into his eyeballs. He blinks, takes away the sting, and then collapses into a sitting position. Ishi wasn’t wrong; the babies really are barely smaller than him.

“You need to burp her,” Kuwa tells him, hushed in the dredges of the early morning. The nearby window outside lets him know that it’s still far, far too dark. It distracts him so much that he has to replay what she’s just said again, over and over in his mind, until it makes sense.

It doesn’t.

“Excuse me?” Jaken asks, horrified. “I have to what? ”

“Burp her,” Kuwa repeats. She’s clearly exasperated. “She’ll have an upset stomach otherwise and then she’ll never stop crying. Here, I’ll show you.”

She shows him with Towa.

Jaken grimaces so hard, his face hurts. He gags a little when the silver-haired baby finally, finally burps. “Children are disgusting,” he grouses, but he gets the little one in his arms into position. It’s a struggle, far more so for him than Kuwa, but he manages it. It takes a little while, but when Setsuna finally burps, he’s nearly bowled over with a strange, overwhelming sense of relief. It’s not until after that he realizes this was yet another challenge, another difficulty in his task to care for the babies.

But he’s succeeded. He’s done well.

Kuwa even smiles at him.

When they go back to bed, Jaken doesn’t hesitate to fit himself in the middle.

By morning, he wants to die.

“Who would ever want children?” he whines pathetically to himself. For the last eternity, he’s been carefully pulling himself away from the sleeping babies in the crib. He nearly stumbles off the chair brought over to help him climb in and out. It’s embarrassing. It’s humiliating.

Jaken is exhausted.

He also has to pee. Making his way through the small house, he hears the quiet murmuring of Ishi and Kuwa in another room. He continues on, leaves one room for a hallway, and then is viciously attacked.

“Gah!” Jaken screams, high-pitched and alarmed and—

Dignified. He is a dignified creature and he’s been attacked, where is Nintojo, he needs to—

“Toad!” an unfamiliar voice cheers from right behind him. Jaken whips around, preparing to battle. His arms come up, poised to strike. Quick, he thinks. Quick and fierce. Lord Sesshomaru is not around to save him and he must protect the twins at all costs. A feeling sweeps through his chest, a seedling into soil, and his heart thunders as adrenaline rushes through him.

“Prepare to—!” But Jaken never finishes that declaration because—

Because it’s a child. A toddler. Staring at him with big brown eyes and a slobbery thumb in his mouth. Jaken makes another face because disgusting.

“Who are you?” Jaken demands.

The child blinks at him before he mumbles, poorly and around his thumb, “Toad.”

“I am not a toad,” Jaken declares haughtily, offended yet again. It seems to be a rather common occurrence in this household. Do humans have absolutely no manners to speak of? “I am an imp! I was once the leader of my tribe. I have killed many, and I serve under the most powerful demon of his lifetime! You will treat me with respect!”

There’s a moment’s pause. And then, a wobble of his lower lip.

Oh no. Oh no, Jaken realizes, he has made a very grave error. A grave error indeed. “No! No, no, no!” he tries, desperately, waving his hands and flailing around. “Don’t do that! Don’t cry! No, don’t—”

But the child does, in fact, cry.

Jaken wails a little, too. “Why is there so much crying?”

Footsteps come closer, rushed, and Jaken is both incredibly relieved and also horrified to be so relieved at the sight of Kuwa. Her long black hair and pursed lips shouldn’t be familiar, but they are even after just one night of constant feedings. She looks as tired as Jaken feels.

“Satoshi,” Kuwa chides, “what’s wrong?”

Jaken answers instead. “There’s another child here?”

“What?” The young woman stares at him a little strangely, brows furrowed. “Of course. This is my son, Satoshi. How else would I have milk to give your twins?”

That is not an unreasonable question. It had never occurred to him. “Huh.”

“Satoshi,” Kuwa murmurs, settling him easily on her hip. His cries immediately dissipate, thumb back in his mouth. “Say hi to Jaken. He’ll be staying with us for a while.”

For a while. Jaken tries not to wince at the words. He needs to get back to the forest, to find Lord Sesshomaru. Surely his master will want to know what’s going on. He’ll want to see his children, see how well Jaken is taking care and providing for them like a good servant would.

Satoshi stares at him a little warily before sending pleading eyes towards his mother. “Toad.”

“I am not a toad,” Jaken whines, pointing an accusing finger at him. “What sort of manners do these women teach you, huh? I am an imp!”

Kuwa laughs, delighted.

She is absolutely no help.

In the other room, Towa and Setsuna start to cry. The young woman shares a commiserating glance with him and heads off towards their crib.

Jaken sighs. Okay. Fine. Maybe she’s a fair amount of help. Jaken is still a little sore about the toad thing, though.

He’ll just have to train the little human monster out of it. According to them, he’ll have a while to do so.

“Watch,” Ishi tells him firmly. Her grey eyes stare at him until he’s fully paying attention before she goes to work on the blanket. “This is how you swaddle them. Left arm. Blanket goes down. Under—”

“I am not touching their buttocks!” Jaken interrupts.

Ishi shoots him a glare. “Under the buttocks. Bottom point goes up. See? Now right arm. Blanket goes across and tuck.” She gestures towards Towa, who is making ugly faces at him. She has yet to settle, still loud and unceasing in her cries. It’s startlingly different than Setsuna, who tends to cry out in sharp, staccato bursts before falling silent. It’s greatly unnerving and bad for Jaken’s health. Ishi and Kuwa feel no remorse for him. “You try.”

Jaken tries to swaddle. He does. He tucks the arms and the blanket and everything. It falls apart instantly and Towa’s pudgy little hands fly up to her face. Her crying gets louder. “You just do it!”

“No, again,” Ishi pushes.

“This is torture,” he pleads, but he does try it again. Jaken has to use more of his legs considering it’s a real stretch to cross the blanket given his size, but the second attempt lasts for a solid seven seconds before it unravels.

“Your first tuck is too weak.”

“Your first tuck is too weak,” Jaken shoots back. He tries it again.

And again.

On the eighth try, Towa is properly swaddled. Her cries start to lessen, until her face smooths out, incredulous. She looks up at Jaken with those violet-coloured eyes like she’s surprised by his achievement.

He scoffs at her, pointing a finger. “Don’t sass me, you runt. I deserve some respect! Your father would agree!” Lord Sesshomaru would say no such thing, but Jaken likes to think that his master would at least mentally agree with him.

In response, Towa gives him a big, wide yawn. Her eyes blink at him strangely, like they’re not too sure if they should remain open or not. Both babies just kind of look around and stare at the ceiling a lot. It’s weird. Jaken hopes this is a normal baby thing. Neither Ishi nor Kuwa seem worried, but they’re humans and therefore idiots. He cannot trust them more than he can throw them.

Which is, unsurprisingly, not at all.

Setsuna, held in Ishi’s arms, makes a little cooing sound. Jaken can’t help but smile a little and poke her cheek with a gentle finger. “They’re utterly useless, aren’t they?” he asks.

Ishi snorts. “They’re babies. What did you expect?”

“They’re half-demon,” Jaken argues, but it’s half-hearted at best. “I don’t know. Something.”

“Like what?”

He doesn’t know. Jaken truly has no idea. He’s never held a baby before, never even really seen one properly. This is all so new to him. Foreign and strange and completely terrifying. Some nights, Jaken lies down in bed and panics because he has no idea where his master is. What if Lord Sesshomaru is cross, looking for him, and disappointed that he and the children are nowhere to be found?

Jaken knows he should find a way to send word, but a solution escapes him. A-Un seems to have imprinted on the babies and refuses to leave behind the hidden grove of trees by the house. Occasionally, he’ll play with the goats. Jaken doesn’t look at them then. The trauma from his last goat encounter still haunts him.

His silence must worry Ishi because she frowns at him, goes to poke at him, and only pulls back when he flinches, inching away. “Hold your child. She needs more affection.”

“What more affection can I give?” Jaken asks, exasperated. “My affection disappears every time they walk up crying in the middle of the night.”

“That’s not their fault.”

This, at least, he does know. Jaken sighs. “Can’t you ever just agree with me?”

“No,” Ishi tells him, but this time her lips are curved, just the slightest bit. “Now cuddle them.”

“I’m cuddling!”

“Tell them stories.”

“I do.”

“Play with—”

“Ishi,” Jaken whines and the old witch laughs at him, full-bellied and delighted. She hums a little and takes Setsuna with her towards the kitchen.

He’s not supposed to trust them at all. Lord Sesshomaru would be so displeased. But Jaken watches the way Ishi cares for the twins, and the way Kuwa gives them soft eyes. He sees the way that Satoshi, the small boy no more than two years old, is well-fed and well cared for.

There’s no danger here, no worry to come from these foolish, stupid humans.

Jaken can’t throw them, but maybe, just maybe—

“Ah!” Towa cries out, a startled demand for attention.

“Yes, yes, you’re very important,” Jaken grumbles, getting into what is now a familiar position to pick her up. He holds her in his arms and sways from side to side.

After another three days, Jaken thinks he has this mostly down.

First, he still is exhausted and wants to die. He’s pretty sure that even with his demonic strength and stamina, that the twins are slowly killing him. Maybe they have energy draining powers that he’s unaware of. His Lord Sesshomaru doesn’t have them, but maybe—Maybe that’s a new thing? That can happen, right?

Second, Jaken is no longer startled when the babies cry. In fact, he anticipates it now. He feels it in his bones, in the thud of his heart. The fresh soil within his chest gives life every time he makes a guess and it’s right, the children’s needs finally slotting into place. Not perfectly, no. But better than before. Better than the first night.

In his heart, two tiny saplings grow.

Jaken goes and distracts Satoshi while Kuwa and Ishi take the twins away so that she can breastfeed them. The toddler still calls him by the name of Toad, but it feels far more like an endearment now than an accusation. Don’t get him wrong, Jaken is still gravely offended. Satoshi’s mother’s help to the twins, though, soothes the irritation.

“Go bye-bye?” Satoshi asks him, one afternoon when the women are with the twins and Jaken is keeping an eye on him. They’re just outside the front door, the toddler in the long-growing grass with A-Un, who is lying in the shade of a nearby tree. Satoshi watches the dragon curiously, but makes no further comment. The three of them are together, huddled in a circle. Satoshi is still far too curious about the dragon demon, but A-Un doesn’t mind and doesn’t care. He lays idly, occasionally grazing but a silent protector to the open and empty fields.

“Bye-bye?” Jaken asks, confused. “Who is going bye-bye?”

Satoshi points at him, brown eyes guileless. He sticks his thumb into his mouth. It is far from sanitary. Jaken vows to raise the twins to be more sanitary.

“I’m not leaving,” Jaken tells him. “Where are you getting such nonsense? What do these witches teach you, huh? I have babies to feed. Go bye-bye, hah!”

But the question, as innocent as it was, strikes a chord in him. Jaken still thinks about Lord Sesshomaru often. He thinks about disappointing him, if his master is unhappy already. Glaring at the ground, he pokes at the grass. He couldn’t be, right? Jaken is doing so well! Sure, he’s with an old hag and her daughter – both human – but the twins are half-demons anyways. This is, like, training. Or something. Being with their other kind.

“You better hope Lord Sesshomaru never comes here,” Jaken finally decides, eyes still glued to the grass in his hands. “He brings death and destruction where he wishes. I think it would be—Satoshi?” Frantically, Jaken looks around and—

“Runner!” Jaken cries out. “I have a runner! Satoshi, no! A-Un, be good!”

But Satoshi falls onto his butt a few feet away. A-Un, ever the calm one who only wants to eat, stares at him with half-lidded eyes.

Jaken rushes up and puts himself between them, glaring at Satoshi. “You are a menace!”

“Toad mad,” Satoshi pouts, bottom lip starting to wobble and oh no.

In a fit of absolute insanity, Jaken shoves his thumb into the child’s mouth. It is disgusting. It is terrible. It is—

“Ow!” Jaken yells, pulling back his hand and whining pitifully. The monster bit him. “How dare you! Do you know who I—”

“Satoshi!” Kuwa calls from inside. The toddler solemnly waves at Jaken and then ungracefully gets up from the ground. He wobbles into the house.

A-Un, clearly judging him, snorts.

“Oh, be quiet,” Jaken grumbles, still rubbing at his abused thumb.

Jaken is doing absolutely nothing when everything changes.

At the time, he doesn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. The children are resting on a soft nest of blankets on the floor, staring around at whatever catches their attention. Their hands seem to have a life of their own, randomly coming up to rest on their mouths, their cheeks. Jaken gently pulls those hands away, worried about scratches that Ishi warns him about.

Setsuna, with her dark eyes and even darker hair, takes his gentle finger-probing and latches on. Her grip is firm, impossible to escape from. Jaken is terrified for all of a minute, wondering if he should pull away, if he should do anything but let her…hold his hand.

“Bah,” Setsuna says nonsensically.

Jaken nods anyways. “Yes. Bah, indeed, young one.”

And then it happens.

“Bah!” Setsuna cries out, a little louder, and then her gaze falls upon him. It takes a moment. Two.

Her tiny, tiny face breaks out into a wide-mouthed, toothless smile.

The saplings in his heart burst, grow. They are shoots now, tall from the soil. His heart aches and thrills in equal measure.

“Oh,” he murmurs. Jaken is so distracted by her look that he nearly misses it when Towa, on the other side, waves her arms at him. He automatically reaches out to gently prod her, and she, too, latches on.

Both small girls, with their little tufts of red hair and dark eyes and pudgy, pudgy cheeks stare at him.

“Oh,” Jaken says again. Breathes it.

Oh.

Somehow, Jaken has always been on soiled diaper duty. It is not pleasant. Towa is the worst. Setsuna is less disgusting, but occasionally more explosive.

The whole thing is so gross, Jaken hopes this part of his life is burned from memory.

“You’re doing well,” Kuwa tells him one morning, fresh from a feed and with bags under her eyes. Jaken thinks, rather suddenly, that he has no way to properly thank the young woman for all that she’s done. That, truly, there’s no way for Jaken to ever repay her.

It’s so much worse when she grows increasingly nice to him.

“It’s not like it’s hard,” Jaken sniffs at her. He means to be haughty, annoying. Something to restore the balance that’s now been thrown out of whack.

Kuwa only laughs at him. “You’re getting the hang of it. They can tell, you know.”

They? Jaken knows that there are only two people she must be referring to, and it’s the babies laying on blanket-covered floor.

“I know you had a rough beginning,” Kuwa continues, and Jaken really, really wishes she wouldn’t. “But they know you now. See how they stare at you?”

Lies, Jaken wants to say, but doesn’t. He spends every waking and sleeping moment with these babies.  He remembers when his heart grew three sizes, unprompted and near unwilling, when they both held onto him and stared those few days ago. “Well,” he blusters, going for a levity he doesn’t feel. “Of course! I am their caretaker. They respect me. They know how much I care about their father.”

Kuwa raises a brow at him. “You know, Satoshi likes you, too.”

That…has to be a lie. But Jaken is already off-balance and so all he does is feel his cheeks heat, chest growing warm. He distracts himself with the baby girls, with the way they blink sleepily up at him and ceiling in equal measure.

“You’re awfully stubborn for a toad,” Kuwa says cheerfully.

Jaken is too used to the nickname to even sigh. “I’m an imp.”

“Satoshi finds ‘toad’ easier to say.”

“Now I know you’re lying.”

Kuwa laughs, delighted, and stands up to brush off the dirt from her skirts. “I was worried when Okaa-san brought you here, but I’m glad she did.”

“Really?” The admission is surprising. Ishi seems to barely tolerate him most of the time, with firm hands and an even firmer set of orders. Kuwa always looks tired. Jaken has brought them nothing, has done nothing, other than the occasional watch of young Satoshi playing around outside in the grass.

Even more confusing: he’s a demon. Ishi had come at him with a pitchfork, had only paused at the mention of the half-human twins. Jaken knows he shouldn’t say anything. He shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. His beak should remain shut and leave it all be. If Ishi and Kuwa are foolish enough to allow him to stay around, then Jaken will take advantage of that kindness.

He must, to do as Lord Sesshomaru has asked.

He must, for the girls.

“But,” Jaken blurts, “I’m a demon!”

So much for that.

Kuwa shrugs, as if that’s the least offensive thing about him. Maybe it is, but it seems strange to Jaken. Humans and demons are very rarely allies – never mind friends or something more. “That doesn’t matter to us.”

Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask. “Why not?” spews out of his mouth. He expects to be ignored, or at most given a disdainful look. He’s known this family for all of eight days; nothing is owed.

But Kuwa only shrugs, a faintly exasperated smile on her face. In this moment, Jaken can see all the ways she looks like a younger version of Ishi: the knowing eyes, the hair that threatens to spill from its tie, the square jaw. She scratches very gently at Towa’s stomach, a small distraction before giving her answer. “I wasn’t raised that way.”

There’s more to the story. There’s more to it and it’s a story that only Ishi can tell. Jaken holds back a frustrated breath, another question on the tip of his tongue, when Satoshi bursts into the room. He’s waddling, a strain on his shirt from whatever food he ate at lunch. His thumb, of course, is in his mouth. Jaken finds it familiar more than disgusting, now.

“Mama,” Satoshi mumbles, sidling to her side. His curious brown eyes land on Jaken and he breaks into a toothy grin. “Toad!”

“Menace,” Jaken greets. He knows how he sounds, though. It’s softer, he thinks, as he looks down at the babies. They’re kicking their legs out, exploratory with their fingers and toes. The ceiling is still the thing they find the most fascinating thing to watch.

Slowly, Satoshi climbs off Kuwa’s lap and deposits himself between her and Jaken. He’s drooling a little, eyes bright, and Jaken feels his heart do another cruel thump. One beat. Then another. The life within his heart grows a little larger.

“And then,” Jaken says dramatically, waving his fingers above the heads of Setsuna and Towa, “your father raised his sword and cut the demon is half! Instantly! He was the most feared demon king all of the north but Lord Sesshomaru barely batted an eye!”

They’re outside. The day is beautiful, sun and clouds and a nice, warm breeze. Jaken set up the twins on layers of blankets, fresh from a new feeding. It had been Kuwa’s idea to take the old, small wagon they had once used for moving root vegetables and convert it into a clean, safe transport for the babies. It’s the perfect size, lined with hay and cloth that Ishi made him redo four times before allowing Towa or Setsuna to rest on it. Jaken can pull it with only minor difficulty, and A-Un is delighted to finally be able to see the twins on a more regular basis. They’ve been with Ishi, Kuwa and Satoshi for a fortnight, and Jaken isn’t sure what to do anymore.

So he ignores it all, and tells stories instead.

“You should have seen it,” Jaken continues, on a roll. “The moon was bright and shining in the sky. Lord Sesshomaru was like a beacon of light; his hair is like yours, Towa. Yes, yours! And even when the foul demon, who foolishly thought himself better than your father, flaunted such ugly tricks, Lord Sesshomaru didn’t bat an eye! You’re very lucky, you know. You have a lot to live up to!” A-Un snorts, making Jaken roll his eyes. “Not now, you useless oaf. I’m telling a story!”

If the dragon could sigh, Jaken is sure that he would have. A-Un turns his snouts towards the twins and he huffs gently at them, making Setsuna wiggle and Towa squeak.

“You’re a huge sap,” Jaken grumbles, and then looks sternly at the girls. “Now don’t you get any ideas just because he looks at you fondly. I’m the one you love best.”

Jaken blinks.

Love best.

…Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat—!

Breathing in deeply, Jaken eyes A-Un, who only glares balefully in return. Useless. Utterly useless as always. Why would Jaken even look in his direction, considering his declaration was made towards—

Oh god, he said love. Love! Jaken was their caretaker, their… Their dutiful servant, by proxy. Jaken doesn’t mean anything to them. Jaken doesn’t need to love them to do his job. Love is—

Love is—

With a heart attack on the near horizon, Jaken spares a terrified glance at the twins. Towa and Setsuna don’t seem to make much of his pronouncement, though. They continue their little half-demon baby lives, completely at ease. A butterfly even goes past.

Ridiculous. Utterly and foolishly ridiculous. Jaken must be getting old and senile. That’s it! He’s been away from his master too long. He’s thinking strange things, things influenced by those witches that he may or may not be fond of. Along with that menace! That two year-old, slobbery menace!

Oh, but Jaken should be leaving, shouldn’t he? It’s been too long without word from Lord Sesshomaru, and he should go. He should find a way to feed the twins while on the road. There must be some kind of option. Something that he can plan for. Lord Sesshomaru would surely want to know. This is what Jaken is good at – being a resource, finding answers and solutions. All this time and he’s been failing his master, has been relying on weak humans to meet his needs.

Laziness! It’s all laziness.

If Lord Sesshomaru knew, he would—

A-Un huffs again, but this time it’s right in his ear. Jaken yelps, jumping away. Towa starts to fuss – because of course she does – and the imp heaves an irritated breath before he levers her up into his arms and sways with her, patting her back.

“There will be no crying today,” Jaken tells her. “You are the daughters of the great Lord Sesshomaru! It is beneath you. Remember that.”

He sways a little more and Towa eventually settles. It takes a bit of shifting, but eventually he gets her back down on the soft blanket, himself in the middle with Setsuna on the other side. A-Un is curled around them, a silent protector.

The sun is warm but the babies are in the shade. Their violet eyes glint in the specks of light that break through the tree, mouths twisting and smiling and gumming at their tiny fists. His earlier worry is all but gone. Not forgotten but…shifted. Put somewhere different. In this grassy field by a human home, Jaken watches the twins and cares for them, because that is his duty. Because he should.

Because he wants to.

Setsuna gurgles and Jaken makes a face at her before gently poking at her nose. “Boop,” he utters, completely nonsensically. He’s watched Kuwa do it to Satoshi what feels like a hundred times.

For a moment, the dark-haired girl freezes, confused. She doesn’t fuss, though, not like Towa. It’s like she’s processing, calculating, so Jaken grins and does it again. “Boop.”

When she coos, loud and bright and pleased, Jaken laughs.

His heart is almost full with everything that grows within it.

He doesn’t mind.

Ishi suggests, no nonsense and with minimal hawing, that Jaken should try feeding them breastmilk from a hyotan gourd. They test it first while still a home. The old woman holds and wanders around with Towa while Jaken gets Setsuna settled on his lap. She’s the least fussy of the two babies, and the most likely to accept Jaken’s fumbling attempt without great issue.

It goes…rather well.

It takes Towa a little getting used to, but in no time, Jaken is able to assist properly on the feedings. Ishi goes into town and gets more gourds. It’s a bit of tricky work, but after a couple days, they get into the swing of it. Kuwa still helps with day time feeds, but Jaken primarily handles their cries at night. It’s easy and it takes away from the dark bags that have lined Kuwa’s eyes since he first arrived.

With this newfound power, Jaken starts to take the twins outside more, careful to keep them out of the sun. He uses the wagon and A-Un’s strength to bring them closer to the forest. There’s a clearing not too far away, and Jaken spends a lot of time entertaining the young ones with stories of his past travels, his days as a leader, the good ol’ times trying to steal the Tessaiga away from their – dare he say it – uncle.

There’s a tree he’s grown fond of, thick and sturdy and leafy enough that there’s always shade no matter what time of day. It’s on the nineteenth day since he’s first come to the village for help that Jaken is getting Towa ready to feed, A-Un grazing not too far away. Setsuna, already fed, is milk drunk and sleeping by his knee.

Everything is calm.

Well, Towa is as calm as she ever is. Her little tuft of red hair at the front sticks up at a funny angle. She’s making faces, dark purple eyes intent on him as Jaken tries to redo her swaddle. The little one wiggles constantly, and despite Ishi’s patience and teaching, Towa almost manages to eventually get loose.

“Come on now,” Jaken coaxes, trying to keep her arm down while adjusting the blanket. “Just a little longer and you’ll be snug as a bug.”

Towa blows a stuttered breath from her lips. It’s a funny sound, one she hasn’t made before, so Jaken leans over a little more to close to her, to stare into her arms and make faces at her in return.

“This behaviour is unbecoming of a daughter of Lord Sesshomaru. Half-demon or not, there are expectations,” he tells her, mock serious. “I mean, imagine if you make absurd sounds like that when you—”

A hand smacks at his face, weak. It holds there on his beak and then pats, gently, over and over. Towa makes a happy cooing sound and Jaken—

Jaken just—

“Oh no,” he whispers, horrified, and are those tears springing into his eyes? Talk about unbecoming! “Oh no, no, no, you little princess, no.” But it’s too late. It’s too late for him and he knows it. Towa is petting him, whether she means to do it or not, and Jaken can’t remember the last time he’s ever been…touched. Nicely. Not stabbed or aggressively poked or prodded. Just…touched, for the sake of it. For happiness and gentleness and togetherness.

It’s silly. It is, really. Because Jaken holds the babies all the time, whether it’s to feed them, or stop them from scratching, or to tickle or swaddle or change their soiled undergarments. But he’s their caretaker. It’s his responsibility and this is—

This isn’t that.

That word springs back at him – love – and it spells itself out in time with the beating of his heart, growing and growing faster. The thing within his chest blooms, no longer a sapling but a garden, rich and beautiful.

Blinking, Jaken shakes his head firmly and then quickly manages to swaddle Towa properly into her blanket. It takes little maneuvering to get her into his lap, to get the gourd in his hand and the spout at Towa’s lips. She latches immediately, easily, used to this by now.

Jaken sits under the tree, one twin happily sleeping while the other slowly closes her eyes in contentment as she eats, and he sweats . Because he knows that he loves them. This was…something he didn’t expect, but that has happened nonetheless.

But maybe—

Maybe—

They love him, too.

Gorgeous Art by Eliza-Faust-Diary

On the twenty-fourth day, Lord Sesshomaru returns.

Jaken doesn’t know how he knows. He just does. Years of serving under such a great and powerful demon has finely attuned him to his master’s every need. It’s possible he heard A-Un moving around outside. It’s possible that Lord Sesshomaru’s aura is just that powerful. Whatever it is, Jaken awakens in the dead of night with the twins sleeping and curled around him. He carefully climbs out of the crib and off the chair, completely silent as he exits the house.

Lord Sesshomaru is as beautiful and reverent as always, standing under the moonlight. Even cloudy, he seems to take all of the light.

“Jaken,” his master greets, tone even. “You’ve been here awhile.”

There’s no question. Lord Sesshomaru can likely smell it, as keen as his senses are. He truly is the most powerful being Jaken has ever come across. He would die for him, would do everything in his power to serve him. Until very, very recently, Jaken has only ever known happiness from such a thing. Looking at Lord Sesshomaru now, he realizes that he misses it.

“Lord Sesshomaru, you’re back!” Jaken greets. He’s overly loud but he can’t stop himself, pleased and near-to-bursting with it. “Where have you been?”

He doesn’t deign to provide an answer, but he rarely does. That’s okay.

“I have been taking care of Towa and Setsuna, as promised,” Jaken continues easily, bouncing on his toes. “They are doing exceptionally well! Very smart. Fast and strong, too! You should feel it when they use their tiny fingers to grip onto my hand or robe, it’s shocking. You would be very proud, My Lord. Very proud, indeed!"

His master hums, considering. Jaken keeps bouncing, desperate to keep the energy flowing out somewhere when he knows that more talking will not be welcomed. He can’t stop the smile from spreading across his face though. It sits there, near hurting with how hard the grin is worn on his face.

“And the humans?”

“Ah!” Jaken hesitates, the slightest amount, wondering what to say. “A necessary evil, Lord Sesshomaru, I assure you! The girls will need proper sustenance that only a mother can provide. I have bent these old hags to my will and they are serving your daughters well.”

Another hum. “Very well. We leave tomorrow.”

We leave—

Jaken frowns slightly, and he can see the very second that his expression registers in Lord Sesshomaru’s mind. The glare sharpens, displeased. He’s the embodiment of death and deliverance, the thinnest and strong slice of a cold, frozen blade. Jaken can feel his body curling in, his mind alighting with all the things to say to make it better, for he must! He must! He must serve his Lord Sesshomaru for all that he’s done. This has always been Jaken’s greatest desire.

But.

“Lord Sesshomaru,” Jaken starts, dread curling in his stomach, “you tasked me to take care of the twins and to provide for them. I have! I have done everything possible to ensure their happiness and growth!”

But.

“I have learned a lot, you see, and to travel with the girls I would need to know where we are going.” Lord Sesshomaru’s glare, impossibly, grows colder. “To feed them! They must be fed fresh milk from a mother! They feed so often, My Lord, like you wouldn’t believe! I didn’t believe; it was absurd. Insane! I thought surely the witches were tricking me, but no. The twins must eat near constantly, and without a mother and her breastmilk then they—”

“Enough.” The order is clear. “Jaken, we leave tomorrow.”

But—

But—

The girls!

“Jaken,” Lord Sesshomaru presses. He can hear the emphasis, even if the great demon doesn’t raise his voice. Years of servitude has taught him every micro-expression, every tell. These are dangerous waters. “You will—”

“No!” The word leaves his mouth without his consent, blurted and spewed and laid down like a bloody heart at his master’s feet.

For a long moment, the world stops. It is silent and deadly, blizzard-cold without the weather.

And then—

“Lord Sesshomaru, you must think about your daughters! I mean—No, My Lord—I didn’t mean that, I mean—I mean that I must think about your daughters. That is my responsibility as your humble and devoted servant! Their care is my responsibility and travel is not possible. They would fall ill. They are half-human, My Lord, and they are tiny things. So small. They grow every day, but they are so fragile!”

He heaves in a breath, realizes that he’s shaking. It doesn’t stop the words from flowing, though, doesn’t stop him from staring at the grassy ground before his feet like looking elsewhere would mean a death sentence. “Babies are wretched things and they need constant care! If we travel, they will surely fall ill no matter what I do and I cannot allow it. They will stay here until they don’t require such constant feedings and then, we will go.”

Jaken pauses, feeling like a rock is stuck in his throat. He tries to swallow but fails. He cannot look up, cannot dare to see what’s on the face of his master.

Lord Sesshomaru is surely wanting him dead.

Or worse: he’s disappointed.

The silence goes on for long enough that Jaken has no choice but to look up. His heart stutters to a stop and then restarts, painfully hard, when he realizes Lord Sesshomaru is staring off into the distance, towards the forest and the clearing that Jaken likes so much. Nothing suggests that he’s angry, but Jaken is so scared he’s sure any reading he does of his body language would be wrong.

Instead, desperate, he squeaks, “Would you like to see them?”

This, too, brings no response, but Jaken takes a guess and nods. “Come this way, Lord Sesshomaru!” He heads into the house and knows without looking that the great demon is following. It takes no time at all for them to approach the crib. Jaken is careful to light a single candle on a nearby dresser. It’s a soft light, the wick short and stubbed. There’s just enough to see the girls without upsetting them, the high-rise of the crib walls blocking it from their eyes.

Lord Sesshomaru stares down at them. There’s something there, Jaken knows. An expression he’s unsure if he’s ever truly witnessed before. It’s not gentle or delicate, but it’s not hard or cold either. It’s—

“Very well,” Lord Sesshomaru says, quietly. He steps back without flourish and aims those golden eyes Jaken’s way. In the candlelight, they appear molten.

And then he leaves.

Jaken blinks and stares at the space he once was. It takes him a second, another, before he’s racing out of the house and onto the grass. “But Lord Sesshomaru!” he starts, stumbling ever-so-slightly. He looks down to catch himself and when he looks up, his master is gone. There isn’t a trace of him to be found.

Seconds pass. Or maybe it’s minutes or hours. Jaken doesn’t know. All he knows is that he stands outside of the home, staring into a distance that changes as the sun starts to rise. Then, as the first rays start to blind his eyes, a cry comes from the house, familiar in its sound. Setsuna, clearly. Her choppy yells are easy to tell from Towa’s long and whiny cries.

“Coming,” Jaken calls. He heads into the house, content.

He must fulfill his duties. He does so with a smile on his face; heart in bloom and his chest nice and warm.