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It was happening again. The eardrum-piercing, spine-chilling, hell-encompassing cry of a hungry ten-day-old infant who had apparently inherited his uncle’s lungs and vocal range.
Sesshomaru groaned, passing a hand over his eyes. He was one of, if not the, most powerful daiyokai in the western lands, but even he needed sleep sometimes. That didn’t seem to matter to his son. Turning his head towards the woman slumbering at his side, the dog demon felt his request for her aid die on his lips. She was so beautiful, his Kagome, curled up beside him in bed, and so exhausted. The dark bags under her eyes were almost as boldly pigmented as Sesshomaru's natural markings, standing out starkly against the wane pallor of her face.
It hadn’t been an easy birth, the labor stretching on and on until the daiyokai had been thrown out of the birthing room after offering too much ‘helpful’ advice to the midwives. They had tolerated him only slightly longer than Inuyasha, who sat outside rubbing at the hand Kagome had been crushing in the midst of her contractions. Sesshomaru had stood beside him and was shocked when said hand was placed on his shoulder.
“She’ll be alright. Kagome’s the strongest woman I know.” Inuyasha had said, ears going flat as a fresh cry of agony echoed from the room Sesshomaru had just been invited to leave. “How’d they get you out here?”
“Kagome threatened to never grace our marital bed again.” The daiyokai declined to use the colorful language that his wife had used in her actual statement on the matter. Perhaps it hadn’t been wise to make certain comments about one of the midwive’s liver and her keeping thereof, yet as the hours wore on with Kagome still in pain, Sesshomaru found himself caring less and less about being proper.
“They all do that at least once a birth.” Miroku had approached them with a sake cup for each of the Inu no Taisho’s sons. The men sat together in quiet company until a particularly sharp scream from his wife summoned Sesshomaru to her side again, from which he would not be separated until at last the ordeal was completed. The depths of affection that he had felt upon seeing the white-haired little boy cradled in Kagome’s arms had shocked Sesshomaru to his core. After all, he had assumed he already knew what love was once he met Kagome. It turned out he had no idea after all.
That was ten days and nine sleepless nights ago. Mentally the daiyokai ran through his checklist of other available sacrifices that could be offered up in his stead to the tiny tyrant in the adjoining room. Sango and the monk had returned home shortly after the birth to care for their own spawn. Inuyasha had departed just that morning with Kohaku to take care of a rumored threat nearby, since Sesshomaru refused to leave Kagome’s side while she recovered. Jaken was still out delivering birth announcements to the important lords of other lands. Even Shippo and Rin, so attentive to their new brother’s needs while the sun was up, were passed out exhausted in their rooms. And his mother…
Just the thought of his icy mother, who for some mystifying reason had insisted on staying with them to “help”, being the one to come to his child’s call was enough to spur an exhausted daiyokai father out of bed and into a crumpled silk robe, stalking into the room next to his own. Lying in a small ornate cradle was the source of the majority of the stress in Sesshomaru’s life as of late: a healthy baby boy with his father’s silken white hair, his mother’s ocean-blue eyes, his clan’s crescent moon on his forehead, and his uncle’s small pointed dog ears. Once upon a time, the idea of having a hanyo son would have been unthinkable to the proud daiyokai who now bent over the child. It was amazing what love could do to even the stoniest of hearts.
“You have not soiled yourself.” Sesshomaru decreed after a cautious sniff. “You fed only an hour ago. I know this because your mother insists on waking me up to inform me of such things.” His beloved miko firmly believed in the concept of mutual suffering, it seemed. He would be more upset if not for the fact that, one, he loved her immensely, and two, it meant that Sesshomaru was granted the ability to rub a soothing lotion onto her swollen breasts which were usually especially tender after their son’s voracious meals. It was the only time the daiyokai was allowed to touch Kagome in any sort of intimate way for the past month, as in the weeks leading up to the actual birth his wife had become increasingly ill.
At the sound of his father’s voice, by some minor miracle their son stopped his wailing to stare up at Sesshomaru with tear-filled eyes. Unable to resist the siren call of those blue orbs, either in mother or child, the great demon dog gently scooped up the boy into his arms. Not for the first time his heart almost stopped at how light the little body was, how fragile the life he now cradled was. Lifting the baby to his nose, Sesshomaru inhaled deeply the uniquely mingled scent of himself and Kagome on their son. Eventually it would fade, becoming something unique and wholly individual, but for now there was no mistaking whose offspring this was. Perhaps by the time their son had a scent of his own, his parents would have agreed on a name.
The lack of one certainly wasn’t for trying. Sesshomaru wanted something that would reflect his son’s position in the world, his might, his will. Kagome wanted something that would speak to his inner life, his soul, his character. The couple had had many heated arguments, but none that lasted the way the naming of their son had. It wasn’t one either side approached with anger or feelings of hurt, instead with a simple stubbornness that neither would yield to. The common assumption was that they would eventually stumble across the perfect name. That had been over nine months ago. It wouldn’t have been any easier if their child turned out to be female, either.
Sesshomaru’s prolonged silence since picking up his son caused the latter’s lower lip to tremble, the scent of fresh salt catching the daiyokai’s nose as new tears began to well up in beautiful blue eyes.
“You must be quiet. Your mother needs rest,” he told his son and was, again, surprised when the swelling sniffles stopped. Perhaps the little hanyo was simply lonely and craved the sound of another’s voice.
Knowing he would start to drowse if he stayed still for too long, Sesshomaru carried his son outside into the gardens so lovingly doted over by Rin. It was a warm enough night, but that didn’t stop the daiyokai from wrapping mokomoko around the tiny body in his arms. Instantly two fistfuls of soft fur were grabbed, getting a warm smile in response. There was already so much strength in those little hands.
“This one is not prone to over-long speeches,” he said as he began to wander the moonlit path that wound its way around trees and flowerbeds. “As anyone who knows me will tell you, I use words as sparingly as possible. Yet you seem to think you can have me prattle on simply with a bat of your eyelashes.”
The only response Sesshomaru was given was a drooling gumming of a hunk of his tail’s fur. It was more than sufficient to prove his case.
“You have everyone wrapped around your finger, even as formidable a woman as your mother. You know that with a single cry we will come running to attend to your every need. You have my staff better trained than I could ever dream. In essence, you are already a daiyokai who surpasses his father.” Sesshomaru informed the boy in his arms, ducking slightly beneath the low sweep of a cherry tree’s branch. This caused his hair to cascade down one shoulder and to be instantly gripped by a tiny fist.
“You really are your mother’s son. She is also fascinated by my hair.” Between Rin and Kagome, his hair was never in need of brushing or braiding or typing up into increasingly ridiculous styles. Their mutual giggles over the latter of these meant he could only respond with a heavy sigh, which for some reason only made them laugh harder. The sound of their joy was something Sesshomaru had come to crave, genuine laughter being something that had been exceedingly rare in his life before the two females became entangled in it.
“It is difficult to keep up a conversation when one party refuses to add to it,” he said as he gently ran a claw down one of his son’s chubby arms, up to where his fingers were tangled with pearly strands of hair. Almost without thinking, Sesshomaru touched each tiny finger, counting as if to make sure none had wandered off. Five on one hand, five on the other, each one as perfectly formed as the last. The infant cooed softly, eyes fixed on his father’s index finger until it was offered over for a little fist to latch onto, giving up on mokomoko for the time being. “Hn. So now that you hold this one captive you are becoming more talkative?”
Crossing the ornamental bridge that led from one side of a pond to another, Sesshomaru paused to watch the gently rippling reflection of the crescent moon above, identical in all but color to the one on his son’s forehead. It marked the child as his true heir, hanyo or no, and had sealed his decision upon sighting it about whether or not to officially announce said heir as being born. Jaken had been sent off post-haste riding on A-Un’s back to deliver the news, first to others residing in the western lands, then abroad. Idly the daiyokai found himself hoping the imp’s lack of return didn’t mean he’d been eaten. Finding a replacement would be inconvenient. Sesshomaru refused to acknowledge that a part of him would be distressed to lose someone who had been, admittedly begrudgingly, at his side for so long.
In his father’s silence, the hanyo began to squirm, working his way back up to issuing full cries again. Taking his cue, Sesshomaru began walking again.
“Often, Kagome tells Rin and Shippo stories to get them to sleep,” he mused, looking down at his son. “I am not a storyteller. I do not have her imagination, nor her patience.”
Golden eyes were met with stormy-blue and Sesshomaru found himself heaving a soft sigh. For a long moment he mused before deciding to tell the only story he knew that came anywhere close to the fantasy tales his wife could weave.
“Once upon a time,” he began, since for some reason such stories always started that way, “there was a powerful priestess who fell into a well. It was no ordinary well, but one that led through time itself. When she emerged, she found herself in a strange land with even stranger occupants. One was a dog-eared hanyo stuck to an ancient tree by an arrow through his heart. Against common sense and better judgement, the priestess removed the arrow and freed the hanyo, which proved to be a grave mistake indeed. He was angry and ill bred, immediately beginning to fight with her. In the midst of their quarrel a sacred jewel she was tasked with guarding was broken and its pieces scattered to the four winds.
“Thus began a great quest to reunify the broken shards. The irritable hanyo and beautiful priestess were joined by a kitsune pup, a lecherous monk and a fierce taijiya. Together they fought many enemies and demons in their attempts to repair what had been broken. One day they came across a demon who was unlike the others. He did not care for the sacred jewel. Instead he desired the mighty sword the hanyo carried.” The events were out of order and left out quite a bit, but somehow Sesshomaru doubted his audience would be quick to address those shortcomings. “Their new foe was a proud and cold demon lord who believed the hanyo’s sword belonged rightfully to him. The demon lord paid little attention to the priestess until she fired an arrow at him in defense of her companion.”
That day was seared into Sesshomaru’s memory, though it would take years for him to admit why. Though he had met Kagome before, in the pit of his father’s tomb, the daiyokai hadn’t given her much heed. At the time she had been a mouthy irritant who, for some unknown reason, could draw the Inu no Taisho’s sword when neither of his sons could. Beyond noting the strangeness of her clothes and mannerisms, she had passed out of Sesshomaru’s thoughts in his fixation upon Tessaiga and, later, in his rage upon having his left arm cut off. It wasn’t until the second time he and Inuyasha clashed, when he had managed to take the sword for himself with the aid of a borrowed, shard-enhanced human arm, that the miko had truly stood out to Sesshomaru.
Out of nowhere, mid-swing, Tessaiga had reverted to its lesser form. Sesshomaru had stared at the arrow that had struck the sword, then turned his head, expecting to see some unknown warrior joining the fray. Instead, standing with another arrow already notched, was the miko who followed his brother as faithfully as Jaken followed Sesshomaru. Despite the scent of fear rolling off of her so thickly he could almost taste it, she had stood her ground beneath his gaze, even going so far as to fire a second arrow which was easily dodged. In that moment a seed of respect had been planted, though it was hidden deep within the daiyokai’s psyche. How was he to know that over their next several encounters said seed would begin to bloom, until even his prideful mind had been forced to acknowledge it?
“The hanyo and his companions eventually defeated the demon lord so soundly that, for the first time in a very long time, he was dangerously weakened. In that state a small human girl found him. She nursed the demon lord back to health, which in turn he repaid by returning her to life after an attack by wolves took it. From then on she traveled with the demon lord, melting his icy heart.” Sesshomaru looked down as he felt his son let out a particularly deep breath. To his blatant astonishment, the baby in his arms was falling asleep. Was the story that boring? Or, more realistically, was the repetitive movement of the daiyokai’s steps paired with the rumbling of his voice enough to lull the child to sleep?
Turning back towards the indoors, Sesshomaru continued his story. “There were many more battles, many more encounters with friend and foe alike. By the time the jewel was reformed and the twisted trickster who held it was defeated, the demon lord scarcely recognized himself. Externally he appeared the same, yet internally he had changed. The love of the little human girl, and the respect earned by the priestess, left him uncertain about his previous evaluation of humanity. It would take quite some time more, far too much time, for the demon lord to overcome his pride and approach the priestess. By then she had grown from a beautiful girl into a breathtaking woman. To his surprise, she agreed with the demon lord’s request for her to become his wife. Apparently she had suspected he wanted to for a long while.”
That day, too, was eternally preserved in his long lasting memories. The way Kagome had smiled up at him, cheeks colored an attractive shade of pink. How her eyes had sparkled with joy, joy directed towards him, and impish delight at his confusion over her easy acceptance of his proposal. According to her, all of their steps towards increasingly deeper friendship counted heavily in his favor. Since that wasn’t even remotely how yokai approached courting, Sesshomaru was caught off-guard. That she was the one to initiate their first kiss only confirmed what Sesshomaru had always known: there was no woman like Kagome, and there could be no one else for him.
Upon reaching his son’s room, Sesshomaru was faced with a dilemma. His hair and finger were still tightly gripped by chubby little hands and he was loath to do anything that might disturb the miraculous silence that had fallen across his home. Hn. It was hard to formulate a plan when he was so tired. Perhaps if he took a seat, rested his eyes for a moment, one would come to him eventually…
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“Kagome?”
A groan escaped her lips as she cracked open one bleary eye, the world taking several long moments to assemble itself into shapes that she could recognize. Standing over her was a familiar face framed by a shock of fluffy white hair, his adorable white ears panned forward.
“...’Yasha…” She mumbled, turning to hide her face in her pillow. “What time is it?”
“Not that early. Come on, I got some of Kaede’s tea brewed for you. She said you have to drink it every morning, or else she’d personally turn me into a rug.” The side of a warm cup was pressed against her cheek. “I can’t risk that. I don’t think I’d look good flat.”
When another heartfelt groan didn’t serve to chase off her best friend, Kagome slowly forced herself to sit up, though she kept her eyes firmly shut the whole time. The cup full of freshly brewed bitter tea was pressed into her waiting hands and she couldn’t help smiling as she felt the silly hanyo fluffing her pillow before guiding her to lean back against it. Really, it was ridiculous how affectionate inuyokai were towards new mothers. Not that she was complaining.
“When did you get back?” She asked after taking her first sip with a shudder. It tasted horrible, but Kaede said it was essential after how much blood she had lost during her long labor. As much as she hated to admit it, Kagome did feel better after she drank it.
“Just about an hour ago. Kohaku’s instincts were right, some damn tanuki were trying to cause trouble while my brother is distracted.” Inuyasha snorted, sitting next to Kagome’s knees on the edge of the bed. “We taught them a thing or two.”
“Thank you.” Kagome reached out to squeeze his hand, feeling her heart melt at how kind all of her friends had been to her over the past nine months. Being pampered so much could be annoying at times, but overall she had no idea how she would have survived without them.
For a long moment they sat in quiet companionship, watching the wind rustle through the leaves outside--
“Why’s it so quiet?” Inuyasha asked at the same moment that Kagome said, “Where’s Sesshomaru?”
Instantly both were on their feet, hurrying to where the baby hanyo should be wide awake and crying for his breakfast. Inuyasha stopped dead, catching Kagome so she didn’t run headlong into him. They stared in wonder at the sight before them.
Bathed in the golden sunlight of a dawning morning, Sesshomaru sat on the floor with his back against the wall, head tilted slightly to one side in sleep. Curled up against his chest, his father’s index finger cutched tight to his chest, was their son, also soundly asleep. With both of their faces relaxed in rest, the family resemblance was uncanny. Standing over them was Yukime, who turned towards the newcomers with a finger to her lips in the universal signal for silence. Kagome saw something in the elder inuyokai’s eyes that shocked her. Instead of the usual icy disapproval, there shone something dangerously close to affection.
Bowing her head, Sesshomaru’s mother departed in a swirl of extravagant kimonos, disturbing the air just enough to rouse the slumbering daiyokai. It took all of Kagome’s self control not to giggle at how disoriented her husband looked, an expression just as foreign as Yukime’s momentarily maternal one.
“What…” He blinked as Kagome pushed past Inuyasha to hurriedly kneel beside her husband, pressing the pads of her fingers to his lips.
“Shh,” she whispered, deftly lifting their son from his arms. The adults held their collective breaths as the tiny hanyo was slipped back into his cradle before they crept out of the room, Sesshomaru needing to be led by the hand as he struggled to become fully awake. Her poor husband was apparently more exhausted than he let on. Typical.
“How did you do that?” Kagome asked him once a safe number of walls were put between them and the slumbering baby. “How did you get him to sleep?”
“He’s been crying for literal days.” Inuyasha agreed, doing his best to sound annoyed despite the fond smile on his lips. “Little bastard, already taking after his father, demanding we all do what he wants.”
“Do not call my son a bastard.” Sesshomaru yawned so greatly that his jaw popped.
“Secrets, Sesshomaru! Spill them!” His wife poked him in the chest.
“I do not know. I took him for a walk in the gardens,” he paused before adding, “And I told him a story.”
“You know stories?” Inuyasha asked incredulously. “You tell them?”
“I know one.” Sesshomaru’s gaze drifted towards Kagome, which made her cheeks warm for some reason.
“Gross.” The hanyo snorted. “Have you two figured out a name yet, by the way? Maybe then I could actually address my nephew properly.”
“I was thinking we could go with one of Kagome’s…” Sesshomaru began.
“I’ve been considering one of Sesshomaru’s…” Kagome said at the same time.
The married couple looked at each other before a warm smile bloomed on both of their lips accompanied by soft laughter.
“You’re both hopeless.” Inuyasha shook his head.
“We are.” Kagome agreed as she snuggled up to her husband’s side, gratified to feel his strong arm instantly move to draw her closer. Something in her heart had been soothed, seeing their son asleep in his father’s arms. She wasn’t so concerned now with what they named him, couldn’t even remember why it had seemed such a big deal.
What would leave a much longer lasting impression on their child than his name would be the unconditional love of his parents, his aunts and uncles, both biological and adopted…
And, as it would later turn out, his siblings, all of whom were named with far greater ease.