Summary: A piercing scream echoed through the halls, blood chilling in its intensity. Though Sesshomaru had never heard the sound before, he knew immediately the haunting cry came from his mate.
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha
Author's Notes: It's Day 2 of SessKag Week 2021! Posting this now because I won't have time tomorrow. This is my first time participating in something like this, so I'm really excited to publish some works, but also read what everyone else has created!
Since this is my first time, I had to set up some rules for myself (because I was getting carried away with very little time on my hands).
- Fics will be set in canon, but will diverge.
- Fics will be short, no word limit, but no massive one-shots (like I was planning to do)
- Fics will be stream of consciousness writing with very little editing of futzing
- Only use color as the main prompt, and if I happen to include the others, then it's a happy accident.
0
Salt and Sorrow
Prompt: Black, Mourning
0
The training session in the palace dojo ended abruptly when a piercing scream echoed through the halls.
Eerie in its pitch.
Blood chilling in its intensity.
Though Sesshomaru had never heard the sound before, he knew immediately the haunting cry came from his mate.
He found her in the courtyard – collapsed to the ground, keening, parchment in hand. Holy powers lashed out chaotic and deadly. The ozone scent of her reiki carried salt and sorrow. Her mournful cries paused briefly as she gasped for breath, and in that moment, Sesshomaru pushed forward through the crackling cloud of her holy powers.
Skin blistered and hair singed black, but none of that mattered in the face of his mate's heartbreak.
"Kagome," he said as he pulled her into his embrace.
The parchment crinkled.
Tears continued to fall. Great heaving sobs racked her frame.
Silent, he held her close, cradling her in her grief.
"S-S-S—" She barely managed between panicked breaths.
Her grip on the parchment loosened, and he took care to remove it from stiff fingers.
Concerned golden eyes read the message before turning dark with sorrow themselves.
There had been a death, that much he surmised, but perhaps the most surprising. Battle hardened, strong and formidable, vanquisher of hundreds of yokai, including Naraku himself, only to pass in childbirth – a battle of its own.
"S-Sango," Kagome moaned.
Feeling keenly brutal loss for the heavenly sword he once carried, Sesshomaru pulled his arms tight and secure around his mate. Until her cries became whimpers and her tears slowed their decent across her cheeks, he held her.
They would leave immediately for the east.
Pay their respects.
Mourn a soul taken far too soon.
Celebrate the life the slayer lived and the lives of those she fought to bring into the world.
And, of course, assist the monk in raising his newborn son.