Vexed

Sesshoumaru did, indeed, go to train with Rekkonji, taking the opportunity to once again channel all his frustration with himself and his father. His issues with his father were obvious, compassion and politics. His issues with himself were…more complicated. He was, of course, never satisfied with his own performance, but there was no one here save for the general himself durable enough for him to truly test himself against; then there was the matter of his half-breed. For all his father's preaching, he could not bring himself to truly care what the creature thought or felt.

His hanyou was the pitiful one, not himself. It would serve its purpose and be gone, and so long as it fulfilled its duties completely and accurately, Sesshoumaru would be satisfied. What happened to it after that was none of his concern. He shrugged the thought away, inspecting his reflection in his practice blade before beginning his rounds with the war master.

Even Sesshoumaru had to admit his style was imperfect today. It was only three days to the full moon, and each day since he had dismissed his hanyou had been strange. He had actually noticed the creature's absence, especially in the details of the daily activities. Whether it was his tea or the way his kimono was arranged, something was amiss somehow. Had his hanyou truly been so attentive to his desires that even the smallest detail was tended to? Was it possible the thing was capable of being…loyal?

An uncomfortable sensation jolted through him, knotting in his gut as he allowed doubt for only a moment to wriggle into the back of his mind.

The creature was a sentimental thing, and his entire display had been tuned to play on that weakness and ensure it returned to him, but what if it hadn't worked? What if his hanyou chose to join his father's fighters, to kneel before Rekkonji?

He gripped his sword tighter, his strikes falling harder and faster on the war master as Sesshoumaru saw him, for the first time in centuries, as a threat.

'Why? Why does this creature cause me such vexation? It's just an ignorant, arrogant half-breed; a nuisance, a pest clawing for scraps.'

Rekkonji barely dodged a swift slash at his neck.

'It's my half-breed, though.'

Rekkonji grunted under the weight of Sesshoumaru's downswing as he blocked.

'No, it's just a filthy hybrid, a disgrace!'

'But it's MY hybrid.'

Rekkonji cursed as his shoulder guard cracked from force of the next strike.

'No! It is a useless, insignificant mongrel!'

Rekkonji's sword ripped through Sesshoumaru's kimono, barely missing its mark. He quickly deflected the blade and wrenched it from Rekkonji's grasp as he sent the war master sprawling in the dirt. Deep inside, his demon snarled as Sesshoumaru bore down on the threat, his prey, his sword raised.

'It's just a half-breed, damnit, it's just a GODDAMNED HALF-BREED!'

"My lord!" Rekkonji called up, his armored hands crossed to block the downswing Sesshoumaru had begun.

Sesshoumaru paused, his mind coming back to the present. Blinking, he examined the chips in his blade and the damage to Rekkonji's armor, gritting his teeth as he realized he'd let himself slip. Smelling no blood and finding no indication of any serious injury to the war master, Sesshoumaru departed the practice field, disappearing into the surrounding forest.

'This is ridiculous…'

***

Sesshoumaru spent the next three days assessing the uncomfortable sensation that had made him target his father's long-time vassal as an enemy. It disturbed him as he considered how many times he'd felt something strange or unsettling where his hanyou was concerned. He didn't understand, how had he allowed himself to become fixated on the thing? He had only meant for it to be a cursory investigation when he'd first acquired it, how had the situation come to this? He thought back, trying to trace out the progression of events to pinpoint the moment of his fall.

As he strolled through the courtyards, he allowed the years to roll through his head, wandering until he found himself again on the servants' side of the castle. In the shadows cast by the waxing moon, he spotted a figure and paused to inspect it. Standing where he had been when he'd first found it was his hanyou, staring at the fire pit it had been tending back then.

This time, it noticed him almost immediately, glancing back at him with golden eyes glowing in the darkness like a cat's. It had returned to its former attire, ragged and splotchy, its hair let down free to display its shortened length. It said nothing as it bowed to him and escaped inside, and Sesshoumaru couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with the entire scene. He hadn't dismissed it, yet it walked away from him, its eyes held none of their usual attentiveness, its garb was little more than rubbish wrappings. Everything about this was inappropriate, somehow.

The answer he'd been seeking came to him in that moment; it had been the duel. When he had returned from his survey of the springs to the east to find his half-breed in a duel of honor, somewhere in his mind he had decided the creature was something more than he had previously considered. He narrowed his eyes, removing himself from the scene that was beginning to cause him discomfort. It was all so ridiculous…

***

Kuroihi watched through her window as the moon rose, full, luminous, and foreboding. Her chest burned with anxiety, her throat clutched tight, and while she still had her reservations, she had made her decision. It was time. She made her way through the halls, following his scent across the courtyards and out to the practice fields.

Kuroihi paused at the edge of a field, watching as Rekkonji flowed smoothly through his training forms, katana flashing as it sang through the air. As he finished, he returned his sword to its scabbard and cracked his neck before acknowledging his audience. They each caught the other's gaze, and Kuroihi bowed before turning to slip into the dark of the surrounding forest.

She followed the scent of poison on the gentle breeze until she found him, hands tucked into his sleeves as he examined the shimmering expanse of stars. He didn't respond as she approached, but she was certain he knew she was there. They stood in silence for a time, Sesshoumaru finally sparing her a glance as the breeze caught the end of his mokomoko and swept it back to brush against her.

"Hanyou," he said softly.

Kuroihi bowed.

"This is your choice, I take it."

"It is, my lord."

"I see."

She couldn't quite place the glint in his eyes as his lips curved into a delicate and wicked smile.

"Then, let us begin."