My Bloodied Sakura by MissTeak

My Bloodied Sakura

I do not own Inuyasha or any of its characters.

A/N: This is my answer to the first symbol “Cherry Blossom” of the 14 Symbol Challenge posted by Nisou Tenshi, and it will be a lengthy one-shot which explores themes of a resilient and silent love, impending death, faith and loyalty between Kagome and an ailing Sesshoumaru. Now, none of us know how a demon’s body functions, so let’s just assume that he is able to fall sick and die like any other being. After all, his father could die in a fire, just like humans.

I was inspired by Okita Souji’s story in Hakuouki, for those who know the awesome anime/PSP game/manga, and his relationship with Chizuru in the Okita/Chizuru-version of the manga.

This is dedicated to Nisou Tenshi, of course, for coming up with such a brilliant idea. I love anything with traditional Chinese and Japanese themes, and this was a joy to write.

My Bloodied Sakura

14 Symbol Challenge, Prompt 1: Cherry Blossom

Sakura in Japanese, cherry blossom is synonymous with Japan, where its delicate pink blossoms are the national emblem. In both China and Japan cherry blossom is a symbol of spring – and of feminine beauty, because of its delicate pink perfection. However, because cherry blossom falls quickly or is soon blown off the trees, it is also a symbol of the purity of youth and short-lived beauty. Sometimes young samurai who have been killed are alluded to as fallen cherry blossoms.

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This…was not supposed to happen…

She pressed her palm to her left bosom in an attempt to alleviate the ache within, as her eyes remained fixed on the peaceful visage of a sleeping demon lord.

The lone candle by his futon bathed his face in a gentle yellowish glow, flickering as vulnerably as his life, causing him to appear even more forlorn and powerless in that instant.

How could this happen? She questioned inwardly for the umpteenth time, unable to comprehend or accept the fate that the gods above had planned for this man.

He had always been so invincible, intimidating and infallible.

Now, he was falling; falling prey to an adversary he couldn’t slay.

It resided deep within him like a vicious serpent, eating away at his health day by day to reduce him to a ghostly shadow of his former self. She figured that he’d most probably not realize it, but to the others who witnessed this gradual deterioration of his physical health, it was excruciatingly painful.

Kagome never knew the feeling of watching someone waste away with every passing minute, but now she understood. It hurt; it hurt very badly. It was exceptionally painful because the man who was wasting away was someone whom she had never associated with disease, not even a common cold, much less…

“…rougai.”

Rougai…wasn’t that the ancient Japanese term for tuberculosis?

The physician whispered the word, barely concealing the mixture of fear and revulsion, as if speaking of it would give him the disease.

She simply listened with a blank expression. She did not even gasp, and neither did she burst into tears like she thought she would have.

The terrible diagnosis came as no surprise, for she already had an idea as to what was going on. The symptoms were getting too obvious to deny no matter what she chose to say about it.

“He should rest more in a place with fresh air, and eat more nutritious foods-”

“Can he ever be cured?” She interrupted the physician, not caring if she appeared impolite.

Silence crept into the atmosphere.

She did not hear a response, but she had already received an answer.

He was dying. He was dying right in front of her eyes.

‘You know, you are turning out to be the epitome of the tragic hero,’ Kagome mused inwardly as she reached out to brush his silvery bangs out of his face, feeling the perpetually feverish heat which lingered on his skin.

It was so hard to witness him die gradually with each passing day, fighting valiantly to carry himself like the aristocratic warrior he was despite the undeniable deterioration of his body. Watching a creature as powerful, beautiful and talented like him waste away was hard enough, but to feign optimism in his presence was even harder for her.

Kagome lost count of the number of times she had hidden herself in the confines of her room, sobbing as quietly as she could after she had tended to him. The severe chest pains, persistent coughing and the bloodied handkerchiefs were too painful to witness.

If she had not come to his villa with Kohaku and Shippo to visit Rin, Kagome would not have found out about his illness.

He had been nowhere to be seen when they arrived at his villa, and Jaken had been the one who brought them around the villa’s grounds to where Rin was awaiting their arrival. Kagome had asked about the demon lord, only to receive nervous splutters of incoherent words from Jaken. The green imp had insisted that his lord had stately matters to see to in the imperial city of Kyoto, but when she had questioned little Rin, the child gave an entirely different excuse.

That was when Kagome knew that something was amiss. Call it a woman’s sixth sense; she just knew that something had to be wrong. For no matter how aloof and detached Sesshoumaru might seem, he was nonetheless an individual who placed utmost emphasis on cultural refinement. He might not have entertained his guests, but he would have lingered around in the background for a short while.

It was then when Rin admitted that her lord was ‘unwell’, much to Jaken’s chagrin. Upon her insistence, Kagome found out that Sesshoumaru had been lying in his chamber all this while, recuperating from a disease which rendered him unable to go about his duties as a lord.

Kagome had initially been apprehensive. A disease? Sesshoumaru? Those two just did not go together in the same sentence.

Then she had caught Jaken’s grim expression, and apprehension evolved into disbelief and shock when she eventually saw the seemingly-invincible demon lord lie motionlessly on his futon, pale as a sheet. No one knew what disease he was suffering from, because he had forbidden everyone else from going near him, and was cooping himself up in his personal chambers. He had told them that he would be fine.

Yet she was not to be fooled. The white silk handkerchief by his pillow was stained crimson despite being folded many times into a small square.

That was when she decided that she would stay in his villa. She could not bear the idea of him dying a slow, painful death.

Were you trying to hide the truth from the rest of the world forever, Sesshoumaru? She asked him silently. Was pride more important than anything else?

Of course, she soon answered her own question. Pride was everything to this man – he was an aristocrat and a warrior who lived by the samurai’s code of honor. He would rather fall gracefully than live a ‘cowardly existence’ by relying on others.

While that was an honorable thought, it made it hard for Kagome to care for Sesshoumaru. He was grouchy and sensitive to just about everything; he could not even bear the idea of having her fetch a scroll for him when he wanted to read. He got frustrated when she tried to help him with dressing himself, and got highly annoyed when she insisted on feeding him when his hands were trembling too much to hold a spoon.

“This Sesshoumaru doesn’t need your sympathy.” He had spat bitterly on many occasions, though Kagome knew better. “Get out of here.”

She was not afraid of the death threats he was so fond of issuing. The Sesshoumaru she was caring for did not even have the strength to hold a wooden shinai up, much less Tenseiga or any of his prized swords.

So she put up a false cheery front. Kagome always had a ready smile for an ailing Sesshoumaru, talking to him as if he had not displayed a shred of displeasure. She had received the vaccine against tuberculosis in her early childhood, and while she was very well aware that vaccines were never completely effective, Kagome had insisted on taking care of Sesshoumaru personally.

It was physically draining to take care of a patient, but it was even more emotionally draining to see the individual waste away despite one’s efforts. Sesshoumaru’s coughs were increasing in frequency, his gait increasingly unsteady and there was noticeable weight loss. ‘Consumption’ had been a very apt term for this terrible illness indeed; she could literally see him being eaten alive. On top of that, he would tire very easily, which rendered him bedridden for long hours with only Kagome for company.

Along with Jaken, who proved himself to be almost loyal to a fault, and a few maidservants, they took meticulous care of Sesshoumaru, trying to make his perpetual discomfort more bearable. Kagome made trips back to the modern world to purchase antibiotics which might cure Sesshoumaru’s tuberculosis, asking her family doctor questions, poring through medical books and journals on the Internet in hope of finding ways to help the sickly demon lord.

But it was harder than she had imagined it to be, for there was no way anyone in the feudal era could diagnose Sesshoumaru’s tuberculosis accurately, and Kagome had no idea if it was the latent or the active form and neither did she know if she should give him one single type of antibiotic or a combination of several to fight the bacteria. There were a few forms of treatment available, but resources were highly limited, and there was no way she could help him if they could not even get their hands on any medical equipment or supplies.

Despite so, Kagome never once gave up. She wanted him to live.

Earlier in the day, she had brought him out into the garden for fresh air and sunshine. The cherry blossom trees in his garden were blooming magnificently, while their pale pink petals danced merrily with the spring breeze. The flowers painted a picture of life, and that was exactly what Kagome wanted for Sesshoumaru to see.

“Look at how magnificent the cherry blossoms are!” She had smiled brightly, allowing the scented wind to whip her hair back from her face. “They bloom so proudly; so full of life…”

Her optimism did not quite reach out to him. “They will all wilt sooner or later. The first to appear, and the first to fall.”

“Yet they have the courage to live so brilliantly for the moment. Fleeting, yes, but the memory they leave us with is for eternity.” Kagome continued, refusing to allow his cynicism to affect his mood.

Sesshoumaru did not reply. All he did was to sit stiffly on the wooden bench, coughing ever so occasionally.

“They are so beautiful, aren’t they, Sesshoumaru-sama?” Kagome asked softly, cupping a handful of the light pink petals, cradling them carefully at her chest level before leaning forward to breathe in the sweet, faint scent.

He nodded once, before tilting his head back so that he could gaze upon the cherry blossom-colored skies, taking in the magnificent yet peaceful sight. It was rather amazing how everything looked more beautiful when the end was near.

“It has a pretty scent.” She commented, closing her eyes in bliss as her mind registered the alluring scent of the cherry blossoms. “You should smell it.”

Immediately, he cast a sideward glance at her, as if slightly exasperated by how lightly she seemed to be taking the situation. The handkerchief tied around his nose and mouth prevented him from smelling the sweet cherry blossom scent, but that was a small price to pay. He would rather go without smelling it than put her at risk of contracting the terrible disease.

As if able to read his mind, she added, “I am vaccinated, as I have mentioned before.”

“This Sesshoumaru recalls you have also admitted that it is not completely safe.” He replied, instinctively turning away from her to put more distance between them. It most probably did not matter, but he had developed the strange mindset that every little bit of distance counted. The further he was from her, the less likely she would fall prey to this vicious illness.

Then he felt it.

The knot at the back of his head loosened to release the handkerchief which he had been using as a mask, and he cursed silently. In the past, his body would have detected Kagome’s actions long before her fingers could land on the handkerchief’s knot. But now, his ailing body was so addled by the disease and the medication he had been taking. He could not even detect a simple, stealthy move from a human girl.

“This feels so much more comfortable, doesn’t it?” Kagome smiled at him, only to have him stand up abruptly to put more distance between them. He did not halt in his footsteps until he was standing approximately five meters away from her, as if he deemed that distance safe.

“Do not do that again.”

“Why?”

He tried to glare at her, only to cough twice. “Is there a need to ask?”

Standing up, Kagome gazed at the demon lord sadly. He was barely capable of standing firmly on two feet. It pained her to see him in such a state, for just a few years ago; he had been standing so proud and tall when she first met him.

Clenching her jaw in determination while readying herself for the impending protest from him, Kagome closed in the distance between them to stand by his side. Reaching out for his arm, she gestured for him to lean on her, only to have him shake her arm off irritably as he tried to walk away.

“Don’t-” He coughed violently, breathing in deeply to soothe his burning lungs. “-come over…”

She paid no heed to his words.

This time, instead of reaching out for his arm, Kagome settled for wrapping her arms around him from behind, pressing herself against his thin frame. She closed her eyes, for she felt the tell-tale sign of impending tears at the base of her nose.

As expected, Sesshoumaru tried to shrug her off, not understanding just why this girl could be so stubborn. He cursed inwardly as she held on tight, cursing how obstinate she was, cursing his illness, and cursing himself for bringing all these upon her.

“The disease might spread to you. You’ve said it yourself, the…vaccine…that you’ve mentioned did not ensure complete protection against the illness…Why are you so obstinate? What if you get the disease? What if-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Kagome said quietly, the resilience in her heart shining through her voice.

Sesshoumaru felt a painful stab within his chest, though it was in no way physical. “Such senseless words will yield regret.”

“I will never regret.” She replied with steely determination, looking up into his cloudy golden orbs when he turned to look over his shoulder at her. The cherry blossom petals swirled like a pink vortex around them, making her look even more feminine and lovely than always.

Picking her courage up, Kagome continued. “I will only regret it if I don’t stay by your side, Sesshoumaru-sama.”

He sighed inaudibly, and she could see his frame relax, indicating that he was no longer bent on stopping her from standing by his side. Sesshoumaru could easily be the most obstinate person alive, but with tuberculosis tormenting him, he had grown so much mellower and resigned to everything that happened around him.

“Suit yourself.” He could see the pain within her expressive eyes when he uttered those scathing words, but he could not bring himself to say anything else. Kagome would inevitably suffer if she continued to stay by his side, and he knew deep within himself that he could never give her the happiness she truly deserved. The girl did not understand; he was pushing her away because he did not want her to live in despair after his inevitable passing.

She lowered her head, not making a sound.

He had genuinely believed that he had managed to push her away with his aloof words, only to be proven terribly wrong when Kagome graced him with a mesmerizing smile. Patiently, she helped him back to where the stone bench was, before sitting down by his side to continue watching the beautiful cherry blossoms dance in the skies.

“Sesshoumaru-sama, look at this.” Kagome inclined her head in the direction of a freshly gathered handful of fallen cherry blossoms in her palms. Holding the handful to his nose, she gently said, “Smell it.”

He leaned forward to inhale the sweet, slightly powdery scent of cherry blossoms, before leaning back to nod at her.

“It is fragrant indeed.”

Then, she felt it. There was an awkward ghost of a touch around her shoulders, and as Kagome sat stiffly in growing bashfulness, she became more aware of the chilly hand that was resting on her left shoulder. A bony shoulder blade pressed into her nape, but it was not uncomfortable in any way; it just reminded her that it was him who was holding her.

“Thank you.” His voice was light and breathy, yet heavy with gratitude and emotion.

Feigning naivety, Kagome evaded her eyes and settled for staring the cherry blossoms gathered in her palms. “It’s just flowers…”

“No.” The demon lord was quick to refute. “It’s more than that.”

Realizing that he was fully aware of her feigned naivety, Kagome settled for an encouraging nod.

“You will definitely recover, Sesshoumaru-sama…” She started gently, only to hear her own voice elevate in pitch and volume when the man by her side abruptly keeled forward in a violent coughing fit.

His right hand instantly flew to his mouth as intense coughs wracked his weakened body, and she noticed how the coughs did not sound dry as always. Kagome noticed a morbid, gurgling sound with every cough, before the first spray of crimson escaped the gaps of his fingers with a particularly violent cough to stain everything red. “Sesshoumaru-sama!!”

He leaned heavily on her, coughing interminably while wheezing for breath. The white yukata which he was wearing was stained gruesomely by flecks of fresh crimson, and every second seemed to add another few spots of red to the fabric.

“Sesshoumaru-sama!! Hang in there…hang in there…” Kagome screamed, steadying him while desperately trying to provide him with whatever sources of comfort she could think of as he continued coughing up blood. There was so much of it; she had never seen him throw up so much blood. “Somebody, anybody…please, help!! Jaken-san!!”

“I am al-” Sesshoumaru had obviously tried to reassure the panicking girl that he was alright, only to keel over such that he was leaning on his side across her lap, coughing continuously.

“You’ll be alright…you’ll be alright…” She whispered desperately, cradling him as tightly as her meager strength could manage as his body writhed in agony in her lap, stroking his dull silver hair repeatedly. Kagome was well aware that she was most probably placing herself in potential danger by remaining in such close proximity to Sesshoumaru, but she couldn’t care less. Every agonizing cough from his lips seemed to send a stab into her chest, and she knew she had to be there for him.

Finally, when Sesshoumaru’s coughs had ceased and he collapsed weakly against Kagome’s petite form, breathing heavily, Kagome could not help but notice the bloodied cherry blossom petals that surrounded them on the crisp green grass.

Stained crimson, the pink looked as if it was in pain. Something so unearthly beautiful should never be made to suffer in such a horrible manner.

A single tear had escaped her eye, rolling down the curve of her cheek to fall onto the bloodied cherry blossoms in her lap.

Never in Kagome’s wildest dreams had she associated Sesshoumaru with the cherry blossom, but back in the garden, that was exactly what the demon lord reminded her of.

Like the soft pink blooms, he had bloomed so magnificently at his prime, flaunting an unearthly beautiful and power which others could only admire and wish to possess.

But alas, beauty was transient.

Some days he was well, some days he was not. She could lose him any moment.

Her cherry blossom was falling, and the only thing that could save him was a miracle…

A low groan, followed by two breathy coughs, interrupted her thoughts. Hastily, she leaned forward to meet a pair of confused golden orbs, half-opened in the darkness.

“Aren’t you…going to rest?”

Kagome caught a hint of an unreadable emotion lurking within those liquid sunshine eyes.

What she did not know was that it was known as guilt.

Sesshoumaru’s brows knitted in a frown. “You may retire for the night.”

She hated it; she hated how he was always dismissing her in some way or another. One did not understand guilt, while the other could feel only guilt for all the trouble he had brought upon her.

Unless someone did something, they would be stuck in a deadlock. Fortunately, Kagome understood the importance of fighting for something she truly wanted.

“Please let me stay by your side, for always.”

A tiny, wistful smirk formed on his pale face. “This Sesshoumaru doesn’t have ‘always’.”

His words elicited a smile from her, and she slowly reached out with a hand to cup his gaunt cheek. The maroon stripes across his skin were even more pronounced now that he was deathly pale from the illness eating at his health.

“Sesshoumaru-sama, please allow me to determine how long ‘always’ should be.”

His smirk revealed amused exasperation, and he coughed again. “Obstinate…as always.”

“I can be very selfish too.” Kagome laughed almost inaudibly, keeping her eyes glued onto Sesshoumaru’s hand, which was resting by his side. Her voice held a heavy tinge of sorrow as she continued, “So…unless I allow you to, you cannot die.”

“The longer this Sesshoumaru lives, the longer you suffer.” He replied matter-of-factly, trailing his eyes upwards from her knees to her shadow-shrouded face. “You’ll be free when this Sesshoumaru dies, which should be soon.”

“If this is called ‘suffering’, then I am willing to suffer.”

His eyes widened slightly upon hearing her heartfelt words, before his lips turned subtly at the edges into a wistful, helpless smile. Not knowing what to say in response, especially since his body seemed intent on constantly reminding him that he was no longer what he used to be, Sesshoumaru opted for silence.

“So…please, don’t say things like that…” Her tiny voice interrupted the heavy, deathly silence, and his heightened senses picked the quiver in her words out. Warm, slender fingers wrapped themselves around his bony, clammy hand, enveloping them in reassuring warmth before Kagome leaned forward heavily to rest her head on his chest. Sesshoumaru froze in his position on the futon, lying flat and unable to move a muscle in the face of Kagome’s emotional outburst.

They were separated by the blanket he had over his frail form, but he could feel the burning hot tears seep through the silk to drench the lapels of his yukata.

Quiet sniffles turned into helpless sobbing as the girl tightened her grip on his hand almost painfully; as if afraid he might escape. “…don’t die…please, don’t die…”

Sesshoumaru had become so important to her, she realized. She had been holding her emotions back for so long, putting up a strong front so as to be a pillar of support for him. Until a few minutes ago, Kagome had placed all her faith in modern medicine and the meticulous care they had given him, still holding onto faith when he threw up so much blood.

Yet he just had to mention that it wouldn’t be long before he’d pass away, and it pained her to know that he was virtually slipping through her fingers with every passing second. She had given herself a few seconds to imagine him dead, and the mental image of a white cloth drawn over his pasty white face was enough to shatter the dam of raging tears. The idea of losing him permanently was unimaginable.

Death was probably inevitable, but couldn’t he lie to her? She would rather be a naïve girl and believe in white lies, than face the fact that death would tear them apart sooner or later.

Sobbing harder with the intense emotions stabbing mercilessly at her heart, Kagome buried her face deeper further into his chest. Her voice, though muffled against his chest and the blanket, was heartbreakingly sorrowful as she continued crying for him to stay alive. “Don’t die…I don’t want you to die…”

A gentle pressure on the top of her head caused her sobs to fade into light sniffles, and Kagome looked up from where she was to regard Sesshoumaru questioningly. His fingers stroked her inky raven tresses weakly as he whispered, “This Sesshoumaru will try his best…to stay alive.”

Her lower lip trembled uncontrollably from his heartbreaking determination, and Kagome nodded silently with a renewed stream of tears rolling down her face, still unwilling to relinquish her grip on his hand.

“The cherry blossoms this year…they were spectacular…” He mused with a wisp of a smile tugging at his handsome features, his feeble voice sounding unusually loud in the silence of the night.

“Hm.” She agreed wordlessly, drawing in shaky breaths.

“So…next year…and the year after next…” Sesshoumaru continued, though it was obvious that the effort to speak was taking a toll on him. His face was frozen in the usual stoic mask, but those eyes of his…they were shining with hope, determination and…love.

“…and for many years after that…let’s look at the cherry blossoms together, Kagome…”

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The End.

A/N: Now, this story can pretty much end here, don’t you agree? I ended it here because I don’t know if I want it to end tragically or happily. I was toying with the idea of doing an epilogue, so we’ll see how it goes!