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Yoshihiro
May 29th . . .
It was a calm day, just as any other with its heavily hung sun and vibrant blue sky saturating the newly unfurled leaves of the earth below. Shed leaves of the conquered winter danced in circles under summer’s first breath, the little ones landing amongst tussled stands of auburn hair as if to ask, won’t you join us?
Yet I shook them free to dance once more, bringing hands back to bundle the twirling curls to the binding low bow from which they escaped.
There was work to be done. No time left to laze about admiring the scenery.
Blankets to be made. Space to be prepared.
All conceivable efforts taken to bring forth new life into a world of budding green.
‘All in time,’ I assured myself, the doting hand taking its place upon my middle again. It swept across the curve in reassurance, hoping to pacify the mind’s unease.
As if to answer I felt motion inside of me, life saying hello more enthusiastically than it has in the past. A smile breaks my previous expression, and I speak to my son with airy tenderness,
“Now, now. No summersaults when mama’s trying to walk down stairs. You’ve already made it quite difficult.”
My eyes turned from the large green bump of my apron to the dozen steps before me. And in slow, two-feet-per-step movements I made it to the base – kindly waving off the few villagers who paused their route to watch me and offer assistance if needed.
From there it was a short walk to Kaede’s hut, where its caretakers currently resided plucking at the small garden.
“Kaede-sama?”
The old woman looked up from her dirt-clotted hands at the shock of my voice. “Sango,” she began in mild agitation. “What have I told ye of trips down to the village? It is not safe in such a condition. Is not Kohaku there for emergencies?”
“Kirara came for him last night,” I explained, honey eyes sweeping from the elder miko to briefly observe Rin standing over her with a basket of vegetables. “Apparently my husband needed his assistance. And I do not consider this an emergency. I’ve come to borrow some more thread, if you don’t mind.”
Kaede shook her head, “Houshi-dono would not approve of ye walking about alone. Nonetheless, I shant digress. What ye need is in the storage shed, third shelf off the bottom I believe.”
“Arigato, Kaede-sama.”
I turned my back, unaware of the woman’s nudging of Rin and the gentle ‘follow her’.
It wasn’t until I’d made it to the back of the hut and extended my hand to the shack’s door that I realized I had company.
“I’ll do that, Sango-sama.”
I jumped, startled, and peered down as Rin ducked ahead of me and pried back the door.
“Um – thank you.”
It was musty and smelt of decaying wood inside, and before I could set about my task my eyes caught onto a familiar object.
“So this is the new place he’s hidden you, hiraikotsu,” I remarked, to myself rather than the girl. Stepping toward it I traced my hand along its side, moving up to fix the tangled tassel that had been messed from misuse. The bone’s aura droned to me, told of its discontentment.
‘I’m sorry, hiraikotsu. Don’t be upset with me. Soon enough you’ll be in use again, I have not forgotten you.’
Soothed by this lingering hope, the demons within the weapon quieted down once more. I too was jeered back into reality with the tap at my arm, a tight bundle of string being held toward me.
“This is what you wanted, ne, Sango-sama?”
“N-Nn. Arigato, Rin.” I took the item from her and tucked it away in my sleeve pocket.
When we headed back outside there were murmurs in the street, groups of people poising to listen to whatever event was occurring. A child cried in his mother’s arms, nursing a wrapped bandage around his arm as she petted his back sympathetically. The father paced the dirt path, obviously angered by something and appearing fretful,
“What a joke! I can’t believe it! The one day our warriors are gone is the day this damn demon vermin invades our home! What do I do? What do we do? It bit my son, the vile thing. There’s no telling what it’s doing in there now.”
My heart gave a nostalgic leap. Adrenaline?
‘ No, no, taijiya. You can’t help them. Miroku and the others will be back by tomorrow. There’s no need to do something drastic …’
And yet the man kept ranting, the child kept crying, and the feeling washed over me once more. Hiraikotsu sang to me from the shed.
“Rin …” I would not look at her, and kept the hesitance from my voice. “I believe Kaede-sama is calling for you.”
“She is?” The girl asked with doubt, “I didn’t hear anything … I’ll go check.” She looked as if she wanted to ask me something – either to say put, or come with her – but, being the timid little thing she was, couldn’t gather the nerve and left. With that, I retreated to the storage shack.
More whispers erupted from the crowd, eyes watching with curiosity, disapproval, and some with amusement.
“Madam Exorcist?”
“Is she mad? She’s expecting any day!”
“That a’girl.”
“It’s not like there’s a choice in the matter. It’s a demon and it needs slaying.”
The ranting man ceased his talk of troubles when I entered the circle of people, budokumen secured around my nose and mouth while I leaned the hefty boomerang against the ground behind me.
“Youkai no nezumi, you say?” I asked through the thick mask.
He nodded, mouth agape.
“Alright. Stand back and cover your noses. I’m going to drive out the beast.”
“Lady Sango,” someone finally managed to utter from the crowd. “This doesn’t seem entirely safe …”
I shook my head, “It should only take a moment, and this family needs their home back.”
There were a few more murmurs, and I ignored them.
“Ready?” From my sleeve I withdrew a pellet bomb, and the crowd backed away. “Go!”
I swiped the sphere hurriedly into the hut, and not a moment later a greenish-blue vapor spilled forth from within. Those without sufficient covering gagged over the stench.
From inside the hut came similar noises, the creature guttering and spitting as the repellant attacked its senses. And finally, its tolerance met, the rat-like youkai bounded out with its jaw of buck teeth ready to clamp down on another victim.
“No you don’t!”
Lifting the massive weapon over my head, I brought it down with as much force as possible upon the creature. It shrieked as hiraikotsu collided with its spine and, as its breed is known to do, sputtered down from the size of a large dog to that of a typical rat.
The smoke dissipated, the rat lay motionless, and the crowd cheered.
I was late to draw hiraikotsu away. Frozen in the same striking position, I was left wondering about the sudden twist in my lower abdomen on impact. It didn’t feel like much, didn’t hurt. It was just – strange.
“Thank you, Lady Sango,” the owners of the hut exchanged, bowing in appreciation.
I shook my head dismissively with a small smile, lifting hiraikotsu to its original position, “It was nothing. Excuse me …”
Collectedly I weaved through the crowd and back to the shrine stairs, taking my weapon as my trophy.
However, the twist wouldn’t escape my thoughts. Even now it seemed to ripple through me with a butterfly effect. Barely familiar with it, I tried to dismiss it as inconsequential. Yet intuition was telling me to get back home. Perhaps that was for the better, in any case.
I took a moment to relax my muscles before ascending the flight of stairs once more. Again I began the daunting task of toddling up the stone steps, slowly and steadily.
‘He certainly knows how to pick the location,’ I reverberated in halfhearted sarcasm. ‘Promise to keep a woman pregnant and then build a house far from the village at the highest elevation possible.’
By the time I had reached the well I was short of breath. There was still another half a mile to go. Another twist swept across my muscles and I gritted my teeth, dropping hiraikotsu to take a much needed sit on the ledge of the well.
My breath came out in tiny puffs as I sought to calmly identify the situation. Sitting, my leggings pressed into the junction of my thighs and sent a red alert to my brain that it was exponentially damp. Embryonic fluid was the immediate conclusion.
Swearing under my breath I combed restless fingers though my hair, praying the vulnerable scent would not attract youkai. That, however, was the least of my problems.
The faintest whisper of a groan met my lips as my lower abdomen contracted subtly, commencing the very beginning of its expulsion. The contractions would only get stronger from this point on, and unless I felt like birthing the child in this godforsaken wildness I’d better hurry home quickly.
I stood with an effort and clutched at my abdomen, the other hand secured on hiraikotsu’s leather harness while I dragged it behind me. The natural stone staircase upside the hill near our home came into view and I ascended at a snail’s pace, gripping the side as I went. At the top, fortunately, I was greeted by a familiar and very curious face.
“Sango-sama, what’s that funny smell?” the tanuki pondered, confused by the slightly off-putting ammonia scent that had led him there.
“The baby’s coming,” I managed, panting slightly in my struggle to keep upright.
“W-w-what?!” Hachi screeched. His paws flailed about with the debate of helping me or running for the hills. “B-but – already? Nine months already?!”
“You would know, consider you witnessed its consummation,” I gritted a little bitterly. I had not completely forgiven the raccoon-dog for ‘stumbling’ across houshi and I at Mushin’s waterfall, but that was a topic best left without discussion.
His fur seemed to turn red at the recollection and he sputtered out again, “N-now Sango-sama I’ve told you a million and one times that it was an – Aagh!!”
The tanuki panicked again when I interrupted him with a pained growl, consumed in another contraction.
“Are you going to help me or not?” I demanded, clearly irritated by the pain.
“Hai Sango-sama! Right away Sango-sama!”
He danced around on his haunches for a few moments deciding the most appropriate method of transporting me before throwing a leaf on his head and popping into a familiar form with a cloud of smoke.
I groaned as he took me into his arms and threw hiraikotsu over his back, holding on tightly when he kicked off into a sprint to the hut.
“Why Miroku?” I gasped, leering up at the tanuki eared monk.
“It was the only form I could think of!” he defended, clearly not about to confess his frequent abuse of this shape despite our warning. No less it served our purpose and soon we were up the hut’s engawa. He transformed back into himself before entering as not to confuse the occupants inside.
I slipped the shouji aside and observed the repercussions of Hachi leaving them alone for a few minutes. It wasn’t so bad. Sure there was a smiley face poked through the rice paper of the door, and the firepit was missing a few charred sticks but it was far more manageable then the two were capable of. I followed the trail of soot footprints to the corner of the room where they were drawing on the wall with their new implements. And upon entering the room they dropped the charcoal in a fit of excitement and charged.
“KA-CHAAAN,” the children cried in unison and took my knees prisoner. I’d only been gone for an hour or so, but by the greeting one would imagine I was gone for months.
“Hello – sweethearts,” I greeted, struggling to get further into the room as they clung to my legs like boots of lead. Making it over to the futon I brushed them aside gently to sit halfway on my side, breathing loud with a plainly hurt expression.
“Mama okay?” Sai asked smally, the first to recognize the difference as her small frame pushed against my chest. Kaori took notice immediately after the statement and scampered closer to hug her mother around the shoulders.
I sighed in strained contentment and kissed the twins on their temples.
“I’m fine … I’m fine,” I repeat, mostly to myself. “You two have to be good. Mama needs to concentrate … so she can have your baby brother.”
“Baby?” Kaori’s navy eyes traveled to my stomach. Her eyebrows sunk as she tried to make sense of the situation but, being only a year and a half old, soon abandoned the difficult trail of thought for the immediate gratification of snuggling into the hollow of my neck.
I closed my eyes, holding in a moan of pain for their sake, then opened them again to the fidgeting tanuki in the doorway.
“Please get Kaede-sama. I’ll be fine on my own.”
He nodded reluctantly and hopped off the porch to transform into his bulky yellow form. I watched him swerve down the horizon toward the village and sunk my head to the pillow beneath me. It was getting harder to control my breath.
But for once, miraculously enough, my girls lay across me and behaved without being told. They hugged me close and played gently with my hair, taking the place of their father until help had finally come.
-*-
Upon the unraveling of my story, Miroku didn’t know whether to laugh or scold me. Well, at least he had an explanation as to why hiraikotsu lay leaned against the wall beside us.
He’d need to return it soon, anyway. The children had tried prying it from its roost on several occasions this evening and we both agreed to leave it with Kaede for their safety.
Presently, however, it was safe from tiny fingers.
“Remind me again how they stole my spot?”
“I needed someone to snuggle in your absence,” I hushed sweetly. “They slept there the entire week, I don’t think they’re willing to sacrifice the space just yet.”
Miroku rested his head against his propped elbow beside me, still clad in his robes while tired eyes watched the slumbering infants beside me on the futon. His other hand rested atop my middle, lovingly stroking the soft flesh there as if the sooth the trauma it had endured today.
He and InuYasha arrived an hour late of the birthing, but I figured that was for the best. When I was in labor with the twins he had been a worried mess.
“It also doesn’t help that they want to be close to their little brother.”
At my soft voice his eyes traveled from our sleeping daughters to the small bundle nestled next to them. He slept peacefully for now despite the hard time he had given us earlier. I leant my head to the side and kissed his small cheek, his skin hot and delicate beneath the touch. His expression squished minimally and his head shifted, mouth opening wide so that he might suck on his fist.
I smiled and turned honey eyes back in the direction of my husband, observing the warm and unreadable expression across his features.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Yoshihiro,” he whispered. I understood what he meant. Our son still did not have a title. We’d played around with names for a long time, and Kagome seemed the natural choice for another girl. For a boy we debated which of our fathers the baby would be named after. This gentle little creature, however, did not fit the depiction of mine. Therefore he would be named after Miroku’s.
“Yoshihiro sounds wonderful,” I offered, staring into the wavering eyes locked on our child. I followed them briefly, finally noting that the baby laved at his right hand. A pure, flawless right hand.
“He would be proud of you, Miroku. Very proud.”
“I know.”
He was silent as I took up the hand that stroked my middle, holding it open to brush my lips across the circular scar flattened across his palm. He let the touch linger for a moment and pulled away, only to replace the calloused skin with his own soft lips.
“Thank you,” he purred between gentle kisses. “He’s beautiful, Sango … Mm. Let’s make another.”
“Absolutely not,” I giggled, in spite of teasing him with a flick of my tongue. “I’m so sore. If I’m to sate your insatiable urge for children it shall be under my terms.”
“Oh well,” he droned, his breath teasing as his lips caught mine again. “Until then I’ll simply have to persuade you.”
Whatever rebuttal I could have come up with was silenced by his kiss. Not that I was complaining. I’d missed him in his absence, and whatever attention he was willing to sacrifice from his children I was more than willing to accept.
Sighing I wrapped my arms around his neck, indulging in the taste of his mouth as mine eagerly opened for him.
A gentle noise stirred beside me and we froze. It increased, and soon turned into a wail of discontentment.
Miroku sighed and drew away, picking up the fussing bundle as he went and cradling him in his arms.
“Still want more children?” I taunted, eyes trailing to the red faced infant and knowing we had another few months of this to go.
“It’s collateral damage,” Miroku assured, bouncing Yoshihiro ever so slightly. “I can deal with a few sleepless nights … though I’d rather spend them doing other things.” He wiggled his brow at me and I rolled my eyes.
Soon enough the babe quieted, tiny blue eyes peeking out behind heavy lids. He gurgled up at Miroku for a moment or two before closing them again, content to suckle at the man’s finger instinctively. I felt flush with the warmth in the houshi’s expression, watching as his palm skimmed over his son’s russet fluff of hair. His happiness was almost tangible.
My yawn caught Miroku from his thoughts and navy eyes peered up to watch me. Halfheartedly I snuggled back into the blankets, fixing the portion that Sai had yet again kicked off her sister. Turning on my side I smiled tiredly at my husband and moved hands up to hug my pillow to my head,
“I’ll leave you two to your father son bonding moment. Right now though, I think …” I paused to yawn again. “I think I need some much deserved sleep.”
“Aah. Sweet dreams, love … And Sango?”
I opened my eyes to him again, attempting to read his dark gaze.
“Thank you … so very much for this son.”
My eyelids fluttered closed with a blush, hand sneaking out to pat his knee reassuringly.
“You do not need to thank me for something I equally wanted. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I felt his hand come over mine to squeeze affectionately, and fell asleep to that sound of my son’s cooing. For the first time in a long while, I could not remember being any happier.
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