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Chapter Text

Shippou made his way toward the well, the weight on his shoulders forcing his back paws further into the snow. He knew he shouldn't be outside, especially with the threat of another blizzard on the horizon, but skipping a visit felt like a betrayal, and he never wanted her to think he'd abandoned hope.

Tears pricked his eyes, freezing against his cheeks as he pulled his feet out of the snow. He tried to find his balance to walk along the surface, but every other step had him stumbling.

He would make it.

She deserved as much.

They'd all known her leaving was a possibility, but his childish mind had never quite formed the thought that he'd never see her again. Then the meidou had taken her, the familiar scent of nagoran disappearing in the blink of an eye. Shippou had always wondered how she smelled that way, going as far as to inspect her futuristic soaps when they bathed together, but they never quite gave off the same fragrance.

It was what had drawn him to her in the first place. His mother had planted a bunch around their home, as they were low maintenance, and even his father's erratic watering kept them alive. The scent was comforting, luring him to her location even before the thought of stealing her shards had formed in his mind.

He'd honestly thought he'd found his mother again. That the traumatic images of her demise had been nothing but a bad dream. But the dark-haired human had been nothing like the graceful vixen, her odd dress and short temper giving him little comfort as he sought revenge.

But then she'd offered him refuge, refusing to punish him for his actions even when Inuyasha called for his head. Her constant protection was a balm to his wearied soul, her willingness to allow him into her strange sleeping pocket only cementing their bond. He knew she was young in human years, but he couldn't stop himself from being selfish. Not when she welcomed the contact time and time again.

He reached the edge of the well, a recent growth spurt aiding him in grasping the weathered wood. His feet still didn't touch the ground, but he no longer had to rely on hopping everywhere.

He hoped she'd be proud of him.

"It's almost been three years, Mama," he whispered, his voice disappearing into the wind. From what Kagome had said, time moved the same when she went through the well, but he had no idea if that was the case now. Three years felt like a lifetime to him, but for all he knew, it could've been three days where she was.

She started bringing mini paintings back with her after realizing that the search for the shards wasn't going to be a quick fix. Shippou was always amazed at the realism of the details. She called them 'photographs' and told him they weren't paintings at all, but he didn't understand the mechanics of what a 'camera' was, so they were still paintings to him.

He'd tried copying them a few times, the paints and coloured sticks she gifted him opening his world to the wonders of art, but they never looked anything like her photos. She always encouraged him, though, offering him soft words of encouragement and bringing back even more photos of where she hung them at home.

He could probably walk her house blindfolded with how many times she'd described it, but he'd always wanted to see it for himself. He knew Goshinboku would be at its centre, but he couldn't imagine him surrounded by anything but rolling fields, sunlight poking through waving branches.

He tilted his head in the ancient tree's direction. The only thing that covered his branches right now was snow, but even then, he was majestic, standing guard over what would eventually be Mama's home.

"Keep her safe for me, will you?" he asked, unsure if the tree could hear him from this far away. "The well doesn't work anymore, so I can't tell if she's okay." A strong breeze ruffled his fur, some of the snow falling from the lower branches, and Shippou tightened the makeshift scarf around his neck.

It wasn't actually a scarf, but her scent still lingered in the worn fabric, bringing him comfort on days like this. Maybe he'd take up Kaede's offer to learn how to braid so he could make his own. He certainly didn't have anything else to do.

Chapter Text

Sunlight drew him closer to the well, the sweet scent of flora beckoning him into the open. Spring had finally arrived, bringing with it a spike in temperature that had most of the village children venturing down to the nearest stream.

Shippou had thought about it, especially with Rin offering to go fishing with him, but he had a schedule to keep, and while no one else would know he'd skipped, he would. And he didn't want to chance missing her on the one day he chose delight over duty.

A soft snort ruffled his hair. Duty was such a grown-up word. Inuyasha used it when defending the village, and Kaede used it when gathering herbs for the villagers. Shippou had no duty to speak of. His parents had been avenged, and so far, no one had risen up to take Naraku's place.

The jewel was gone.

Lifting himself onto the lip of the well, he pulled his knees in close, giving the darkness within the wooden walls a passing glance. It never changed. It always called to him, but it never changed. The spark of power that followed Kagome to and from her own time had remained dormant since Inuyasha had returned without her, claiming she was safe in her own time.

A frown furrowed Shippou's brow. She may have been safe back then, but every time Inuyasha told the story, his final moments with her got shorter. How did he know she was safe? What about all the demons there? As powerful as she was, there was no way she could protect herself from all of them.

Tears filled his eyes, but he wiped them away angrily. He was past the point of bawling when she wasn't here. He wasn't a baby anymore, though he was still young even by hanyou standards. He couldn't even hold a fully humanoid form yet.

His parents had told him that he'd start school once he reached his tenth year, but he needed a full-blooded youkai for that. His parents had graduated with high praise from the council, so it was expected that he would as well.

The shattering of the jewel had dashed his hopes of continuing his parents' legacy. Mama had specialized in cooking, a simple sip of soup being all he needed to feel better on cold days. Even his father's tirade about grubs eating through the garden instantly stopped after she'd stuck a spoon in his mouth.

Shippou sighed softly at the memory. Kagome hadn't cooked much outside of the weird noodles Inuyasha always demanded from her, but the sweets she brought never failed to make him feel better.

That might've just been her, though.

"I promise I miss you more than your treats," he said, breaking the silence. He turned, dangling his feet over the edge of the well. He couldn't count the number of times he jumped in, hoping the well would heed his call and reunite them, but so far, there hadn't been so much as a glimmer.

Inuyasha had told him as much, though he'd never stopped him from going. He always asked if there'd been any change after he came back, too. There'd been a few times when Shippou had caught his scent around the well, but it was never strong and always first thing in the morning. The hanyou likely spent his human nights here, unable to deal with the deafening chatter from the village—and not wanting to chance being seen by any passersby.

He probably spent the night sleeping within Goshinboku's protective embrace, the branches disguising his scent from any that may cause him harm. As silent as the ancient tree youkai was, the buzz of power was unmistakable, and if Shippou hadn't wanted to be the first to greet her when she returned, he probably would've done the same.

"I don't even care if you don't bring me back anything," he murmured. "Just come back, okay? It's lonely without you." Hopping off the lip, he gathered up a bundle of wildflowers, spending the next hour tying them into a crown. It was somehow easier now that Kaede had taught him to braid, tiny, nimble fingers easily creating loops for the next bloom.

Once he was finished, he lay the crown where he'd been sitting. He stepped back to admire his handiwork, a few petals blowing in the breeze. He'd have to tell Rin he finally got it right.

Chapter Text

There was a new scent today, familiar but not one he could place. It didn't feel like a threat, so Shippou brushed it off, settling against the well before pulling out his roll of parchment. Rin had started training with Kaede, gathering herbs during the day. She'd invited him to join her, but he didn't need to know the intricacies of each plant. His nose told him which ones were poisonous, and his demon blood meant any scratches would heal quickly.

The reminder that Rin was human had his nose wrinkling. She'd had her fair share of bumps and bruises, but that was from when she snuck off to train with Kohaku, so he wasn't worried. Kaede had questioned her on it, but Rin remained tight-lipped about the whole situation for some reason. Shippou had the feeling it was because she hadn't shown any sign of reiki yet.

Kagome's disappearance had left a shadow over the entire village, and while most of them had returned to their regular routines, those who had spent extended time in her presence felt her absence more than others. Rin had witnessed her power firsthand and desperately wanted to live up to her expectations.

According to Kaede, the manipulation of reiki took time and patience, but Rin had little of the latter, so she'd recruited the young slayer to train her in other ways. Sango hadn't said anything, but she was too busy rebuilding her own village. And knowing her, she'd probably encouraged it.

Her back still sported the scar from Kohaku's attack. She never wanted anyone else to feel as helpless as she had. From what Shippou had seen, Rin hadn't been given any real weapons yet, and even though she always came back to her hut exhausted, she was still smiling.

Shippou couldn't blame her. If he had someone to train with, he'd put his all into it every day, too.

Shaking his head to stop the usual melancholy from seeping in, he took out his drawing stick. Foxfire lit the end, darkening it with charcoal before he pressed it against the parchment. He didn't have any of Kagome's fancy drawing utensils, but considering how naturally fire came to him, it worked out for the best. Besides, he still needed to practice, even if he never got into school.

Clouds moved overhead, but his hand never slowed, covering the parchment with memories of his time with the elusive miko that transcended time. He switched between two drawings, unable to decide if her hair had grown longer or been cut short in their time apart. His tongue twisted between his teeth as he worked, adding a crown of flowers to each sketch.

He also couldn't decide which clothes to put her in. Traditional miko robes didn't feel right, considering how often she refused to wear them, but her green skirt was used for school, so that had to change, right?

"Are you taller now?" he wondered aloud, leaning back to admire his work.

"It is likely."

Shippou let out a startled yelp, his parchment nearly going up in flames as foxfire erupted from his fingers. A pale brow raised as the flames were snuffed out before even reaching his ankles.

The hair on the back of Shippou's neck rose in alarm as he stared up into the eyes of a predator, the slit pupils observing him slowly. He'd seen the daiyoukai in passing when he visited Rin, but he'd kept his distance. Sesshoumaru may have a soft spot for his human ward, but that didn't mean he had one for everyone. And Shippou was still convinced he held a grudge for his plea to help the otter pup.

Keeping his head bowed, Shippou gathered up his supplies. "Are you here to visit Rin?" he asked tentatively, not wanting him to know where his thoughts had strayed. Adult youkai could smell fear without trying—or so he'd heard.

Sesshoumaru didn't answer, and Shippou's shoulders hunched as he felt his gaze linger. Had he offended him by attacking? He couldn't even call it an attack, his hands bunching into fists at his pathetic excuse for power. He could shapeshift, but it never lasted long enough to make a difference. And his foxfire had yet actually to injure anyone.

He'd never change the past—the thought of never meeting Kagome made his stomach do nauseous flips—but he'd have asked more questions about how it worked, and maybe made a few more friends. His hands stilled. Would Kanta's father represent him for the kitsune school? He needed a full-blooded youkai to get in, but he wasn't sure if they had to be related by blood.

"You require training." It was said so nonchalantly that Shippou blinked several times before the words sank in.

"Ummm… Yes?" He cocked his head to the side, wondering where Sesshoumaru was going with it. When nothing more was said, Shippou went back to retrieving his supplies. "I was supposed to go to school, but then the thing with the Thunder Brothers happened." Emerald eyes kept flickering toward dark boots, waiting for him to turn away, but the only movement came with the soft whisps of grass against his toes.

"Has Inuyasha not seen to this?" he asked, his expression unchanging.

Sighing, Shippou finally straightened his parchment. "Inuyasha's too busy protecting the village." He wanted to add that he was in no way parent material, but bit his tongue. When push came to shove, Inuyasha always came through, but now that the threat of Naraku wasn't biting at his heels, he wasn't in a rush to do anything. And he certainly didn't have any information about a prestigious school like Itazura.

Shippou had built up the courage to ask him about it once, and Inuyasha had asked him if that was some weird human food Kagome had given him. Shippou hadn't brought it up again. He didn't fault him for it—Inuyasha's upbringing had been tumultuous at best—but he was still a little miffed that he hadn't even bothered to look into it.

Sango knew enough to recognize the name, but since she was human, there was no way she'd get anywhere close. A demon school was one thing; a school run by kitsune was something else entirely. It was by invitation only, and only those well-versed in illusionary tactics could sense its location.

"The village will not aid you in this endeavour." It was a statement rather than a question, and one that had the kit shrugging in resignation.

"Not really. No one even knows where it is." The realization that he'd likely have to rely on his human friends for several years clawed at his insides, and he kicked away a pebble in frustration. "Inuyasha won't even let me go hunting with him."

He asked countless times over the last three years, but the answer was always the same: he was too young. He kicked away another pebble. How was he supposed to grow if he never learned anything new? Youkai grew at the same rate as humans until they reached adulthood, so he was over ten years old at this point. How would he survive on his own if no one taught him how?

"Hnn."

Shippou watched as Sesshoumaru turned on his heel and headed toward the village. That was the most they'd spoken since, well, ever, so he didn't have anything to compare it to. Sesshoumaru could've easily bypassed him on his way to visit Rin. Instead, he'd startled him, questioned him, and then disappeared.

What the heck was that about?

Chapter Text

Sesshoumaru was being weird. He'd never spared Shippou a passing glance before, and their strange conversation about his training hadn't amounted to anything, so Shippou thought that was the end of it.

And then he'd shown up at the well.

It wasn't as if Shippou had claimed the spot for himself, but his visits were consistent enough that his scent was etched into even the tiniest cracks. Shippou didn't know how to mark his territory more than that, and he didn't want to chance damaging the well. He refused to do anything that might hurt her chances of coming back.

At first, Shippou observed from a distance, relaxing in the shade of Goshinboku while he continued with his sketches. But after several visits that left the well unaltered, he finally found the courage to approach him. The only sign that Sesshoumaru knew he was there was the slight twitch of his ear, followed by a slow flex of the hand resting over one knee.

It had startled Shippou at first, instincts screaming at him to take shelter, but the western lord didn't move, so he settled against the opposite side of the well, going about his business as if he were alone.

Shippou worked in uninterrupted silence, never questioning his sudden appearance. Sometimes, Rin joined them, flitting between the two with the unassuming grace of someone who befriended everyone. Sesshoumaru's responses were few and far between, but she was used to it. Shippou, on the other hand, always felt on edge, waiting for the older demon to strike—or strike him down.

He couldn't figure out why, but he felt like Sesshoumaru was always watching him, even when his eyes were closed. There were subtle shifts in his aura every time Shippou darted after Rin. She had this innate knack of coaxing him away from his sketches—from his melancholy—their laughter ringing through the field.

He never caught her, though he wasn't really trying, enjoying the slight reprieve from missing Kagome. But after a particularly gruelling chase, Sesshoumaru rose to his feet, reminding Rin she was due at Kaede's. Rin waved them both goodbye, promising to finish her work as quickly as possible.

Shippou waved back, spine straightening when he felt Sesshoumaru's youki slither toward him. Jumping out of the way, flames burst from his hands, leaving the surrounding grass charred and disfigured. Amber eyes narrowed, and his power flared, quickly snuffing out the fire.

They faced off, Shippou's heart beating wildly in his chest. He was no match for a daiyoukai, especially one as seasoned as Sesshoumaru, but he certainly wasn't going down without a fight.

He wasn't big, but he was fast, which helped him during his quarrels with Inuyasha. His teeth ground together. Inuyasha had never won against his brother without Kagome's help, though. And if Sesshoumaru was mad at him for doing something to Rin, there was no telling what he was capable of.

No matter how passive he was about it, Rin was Sesshoumaru's whole world. He was a completely different person due to her existence, just like Inuyasha's pack was forever changed because of Kagome. She was the glue that held them all together, and when she'd left, they'd all wandered away from each other.

Sango was rebuilding her lineage and training new slayers; Miroku provided for the villagers by exorcizing demons, which Inuyasha joined him on regularly; Inuyasha protected the village and helped with odd jobs like fixing roofs. Kaede had found closure for her sister's murder, placing her attention on training Rin as her replacement. And all the people they'd helped along the way had seemingly moved on with their lives.

It wasn't until that moment that Shippou realized how lonely he was.

Everyone else had a role. Everyone else had a job. His job had been to protect Kagome. Even as young as he was, he'd taken it seriously. Her power was unmatched, but she was not unaffected, often sinking into his embrace when they went to sleep.

Shippou couldn't be sure, but he was pretty sure she had nightmares. He'd often been woken up in the middle of the night from Kagome's twitching, and only the soft combing of his claws through her hair would settle her. His mother used to do the same thing to him, and it was the only thing he could think of that would help.

He still resented Inuyasha for constantly waking her up early, knowing how precious her sleep was, but never revealing the reason why. Kagome had had enough trouble living up to everyone's expectations; she didn't need the extra pressure of them knowing just how much the hunt for the shards affected her.

The thought of never seeing her again, of never being able to help her again, had his stomach doing flip-flops, and there was a strange stillness around him as power pooled around his claws. He hadn't gone through all the strife of Naraku to see it end here.

Foxfire glowed a brilliant teal, the tips of the flames turning white as he shifted his feet. If he could lure Sesshoumaru into the forest, he could use the trees to his advantage. Goshinboku might even aid him in his survival if he could get close enough. He'd always been protective before, so maybe—

"Enough." Shippou jerked to attention, still surrounded by teal flames even as Sesshoumaru relaxed his stance. Claws retracted a moment before his youki did, amber eyes giving him a once over before inclining his head. "Your purpose has returned."

Shippou gave him a blank look.

The venom had disappeared from his face and hands. He looked like he always did, not a hair out of place. It was like Shippou had imagined the entire thing.

Sesshoumaru gave him a considering look, then sighed, running his claws over his pelt. "Your ennui has been strong these past years, kit. It has saturated the portal while you wait for your mother to return."

A flush darkened Shippou's cheeks, shame creeping up his spine. "I can handle it," he mumbled.

The older demon snorted. "You say that like it is your sole burden to bear."

A frown furrowed his brow. Wasn't it? He knew lots of people were waiting for her to come back, but he was the only one without a specific role. The only expectations laid on his shoulders were that of a woman who'd fought for his right to exist when she could've easily left him to fend for himself.

"Everyone else is busy," he argued.

"As should you be." Endless questions shone out of his eyes as he met Sesshoumaru's gaze. "Someone your age should not be losing to This One's ward."

Shippou straightened, trying to make himself taller. "We're just playing games. It isn't anything serious."

"It should be practice," Sesshoumaru emphasized. "You have little control over your powers, and your ability to hold an illusion is minimal."

He wanted to be mad, his fur automatically standing on end, but Shippou knew he was telling the truth. He was severely behind in where a typical kitsune should be—he'd yet to surpass Rin's height—and if he was honest with himself, he wanted to be better.

"I don't want to let her down," he admitted.

"And you will not," Sesshoumaru assured him. "But progress will not happen here."

That caught Shippou's attention. He had to stay here. What if he missed her? What if she showed up and thought no one still loved her? What if she went back?

"There is nothing for you here," Sesshoumaru repeated.

Small hands clenched into fists. "She's going to come back!"

The edge of his mouth quirked. "And that hope will aid you in your further growth." Sesshoumaru turned on his heel, the end of his pelt trailing after him yet somehow still pristine. "Come. We shall wait for her return at the shiro."

Shippou never tried to understand the daiyoukai's strange way of talking. He barely did it in the first place, and it was much easier to decipher his intentions through his actions, but one word caught his attention, small pointed ears twitching as he struggled to keep up.

"We?"

Chapter Text

They hadn't gone back to Sesshoumaru's home right away. Shippou wasn't sure where the daiyoukai lived, even with his conversations with Rin. From the sounds of it, she hadn't been there either, as her stories about him constantly changed.

First, he lived near the ocean, then he lived in a cave. If she was feeling particularly adventurous, he didn't have a home at all, as he spent too much time fighting people. Once, she even had him living in a castle in the sky, but that was ridiculous. Everyone knew the clouds moved too quickly for that.

It hadn't stopped Shippou from staring up at the vast horizon one summer's day, trying to imagine what the castle looked like, though. He'd never had a home before. The memories of his parents had faded to nothing but sensations.

He could remember the scent of his mother's favourite flower, and the warmth of her embrace after a storm, but not her face. His father's voice had been boisterous, the shade of teal that Shippou wore to match just as loud, but the number of tails he had eluded him.

Kagome, though, he could remember. From the length of her socks to the way her face darkened before she yelled at Inuyasha—he'd never forget that. Her power would spark a moment before her left hand clenched into a fist, and then you'd better take cover. Inuyasha could never figure it out, but then again, he was always on the receiving end of her wrath.

Not Shippou, though. He'd been scolded a few times, especially after he'd gone into her yellow bag without permission. He'd known she stashed her treats in there and wanted to make sure he got the strawberry pocky first. He still didn't know what pocky meant, but it was crunchy and delicious, so who was he to question it?

Kagome had used a very stern voice that day, one that reminded him of his birth mother, and he hadn't been able to look at her any other way after that. She'd protected him from harm, defended him against other youkai, and encouraged his mischief when it came to taunting her friends.

How could he see her any other way?

Following Sesshoumaru had its advantages—he didn't have to worry about being attacked—but the daiyoukai didn't say much, leaving Shippou to wonder why he'd brought him along in the first place.

He'd said they were going to wait for her, but why were they doing that so far away? As dusk fell, so did his hopes of seeing her again, and his tail began to twitch with uncertainty.

He wanted to be the first person to welcome her back.

Sesshoumaru kept to the trees, eventually settling against one once the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon. Nothing had been mentioned about food, but Shippou knew that appetites waned as youkai got older. At least, he assumed they did; he'd never seen Sesshoumaru eat before. The only person with youkai blood he had seen eat was Inuyasha, but that was because Kagome supplied him with ninja food every time she came back through the well.

Lifting his nose, he inhaled deeply, finding a stream nearby, and he scampered toward it without looking back. Sesshoumaru's aura was overwhelming, so going fishing wouldn't take him out of his protection, but it would sure make it easier to breathe.

The kit shuddered as he dipped his feet into the stream, water gurgling around his toes. He'd only spent a few hours in Sesshoumaru's company, and the pressure of his youki weighed heavily on his shoulders. His skin was itchy, his chest burning with the effort it took to bring oxygen into his lungs.

How had Jaken survived?

Forget the fish, he needed to concentrate on protecting himself, or he wouldn't even make it to where they were going.

Sitting on the side of the bank, he tried to remember what Kagome used to do. She was too powerful to be bothered, even by the likes of Sesshoumaru, but there'd been times when her fights with Inuyasha had spilled over to the next day, and she'd stomped away from camp to calm down.

He loved his mother, but she was scary when she was mad.

He kept his feet in the water instead of folding them at the knee like she used to do, concentrating on the flow of the stream as it bounced against rocks and dirt. Time didn't matter, and he ignored the slight rumbling of his stomach as he pushed his youki out from his core. If he could make a bubble, then Sesshoumaru's power wouldn't be so oppressive.

There was a slight spark, but it fizzled out just as quickly as it formed. Frowning, and clasping his hands together, Shippou tried again. It wasn't a fight; he just wanted some peace, a little bit of a break. That wasn't too much to ask, was it?

He concentrated on the sound of the wind rustling the grass instead. Water wasn't his thing anyway. It was fun to swim in, and he missed bathing with Kagome, but he'd rather find an open field to run through.

The soft whistling was easier to hear. It circled him, teasing the hair around his ears before sliding down his back and dancing through the flora. He inhaled again, the soft aroma of a few nearby flowers wafting by his nose before it spun away with the wind.

He could hear it long after it disappeared around the riverbend, and he suddenly realized the sound of the water had fallen away. A bubble popped, but he clenched his hands, knuckles turning white as he pushed the sound away.

The wind returned, the grass bending to and fro in an intricate dance, and he managed to block out everything else. He thought it might get louder, but it remained a soft whir, lifting his tail off the ground as the pressure to his senses eased.

It was like he'd had a cold, and when his sinuses finally cleared, everything felt a little less daunting. Blinking slowly, the river came back into focus, the sounds of the water swirling around his feet taking a moment to reach his ears. As he sat perfectly still and perfectly upright, a smile slowly crept onto his face.

He'd figured it out. All by himself. He hadn't needed any training or coaching.

She'd be proud of him.

A branch snapped behind him, and Shippou jerked so hard he landed face down in the water. Sputtering, he faced his attacker, readying his foxfire, but was met with an exasperated sigh.

"You need to be more aware of your surroundings," Sesshoumaru chastised.

Shippou groaned, wiping the water out of his face even as they were replaced with more droplets from his hair. "You shouldn't sneak up on people," he grumbled. Climbing out of the river, he chanced a glance up at the daiyoukai, hoping he hadn't changed his mind about bringing him along. As terrifying as he was, Shippou was still hoping to learn something from him.

Amber eyes glinted in the darkness, and Shippou cowered slightly. Did daiyoukai eat other purebloods?

The silence stretched between them, but Sesshoumaru eventually turned on his heel and headed back to his tree. Before he stepped out of sight, he flicked his hair over his shoulder, the wind slithering through the long, silver strands. "You would do well not to leave yourself open to attack, but your attempt to suppress your surroundings was admirable."

Not for the first time, Shippou's mouth fell open, but it was ignored entirely, Sesshoumaru disappearing between the trees. Had he just praised him?

Chapter Text

It was official. Sesshoumaru had lost his mind.

Shippou squinted at the daiyoukai's hand. Well, not his hand, but what was in his hand.

"Is it not correct?"

"It is but…" Shippou wrinkled his nose. He didn't want to seem ungrateful, especially with how long they'd been travelling, but since when did Sesshoumaru buy painting supplies?

He continued to hold his hand out expectantly, tension rising, so Shippou accepted the gift. It was a gift, right?

"Can I use them right now?" he asked hopefully. It had been a while since he'd been able to draw anything, and since they were stuck inside a cave due to the torrential downpour outside, he was bored out of his skull.

Drawings already lined the floor and walls, carved into dirt and stone, but they lacked any colour, so he was far from satisfied. Kagome always brought back futuristic supplies from her home, so demolishing the horde of snacks was always followed by adding to her collection of paintings.

Kagome said she was going to make it into a book, like the ones she used to study with, so it sounded like it was a big deal. She kept every drawing he'd ever made, laying them flat between the pages of her textbooks after they'd dried. He hadn't cared much for them after he'd finished, but she claimed she liked seeing the progress he'd made.

She was funny like that. It was her way of encouraging him to keep trying. It didn't matter how tiny the steps were, he always got a little bit better each time. Grinning to himself, he unrolled the top sheet of parchment. Maybe he should start tracking his progress with the youki thing.

He'd caught onto Sesshoumaru's plan after they'd stopped to make camp for the third day in a row. The daiyoukai certainly didn't need the rest, but he obviously thought Shippou did, and it gave him time to practice.

He didn't even bother finding a different spot now. He'd saved some of the fish he'd caught in the river, rationing it out as best he could, but Sesshoumaru made a point of stopping near berry bushes and trees full of nuts, so he never went hungry. He'd yet to see Sesshoumaru eat, but there were times when Shippou woke and the daiyoukai was nowhere to be found, so maybe it did it after he went to sleep.

He really was strange. Is this why Rin had to keep making up stories about where he lived? Because he was either boring as hell or gone for long periods?

Shaking his head, Shippou opened the bundle of powdered colours, using a nearby puddle to swirl the paint around on the parchment. It was just a chaotic mess of colour at first, one shade bleeding into another, but when he finally got to the black outline, the shape of his mother slowly started to take shape.

The blue wasn't quite how he remembered it, but he darkened it with a bit of the black, and it worked a lot better. The pink was all wrong, though. Kagome glowed when she fought, her power shifting from deep magenta to almost silver, but no matter how much he watered it down, it didn't glitter as much as she did.

Pouting, he tried to focus on the other parts of the drawing. Sesshoumaru eventually joined him, his hair now mostly dry and braided over one shoulder. Shippou moved on to a second piece, offering one to Sesshoumaru out of obligation. Surprisingly, the daiyoukai accepted, holding it against his bent leg as a second brush was produced.

They worked in silence, the slight crinkle of parchment every time Shippou switched sides the only sound. He could never stop moving while he drew. Kagome made it look so simple. She'd sit quietly, easily shifting between her school books and the notepads she brought for painting. Shippou always wondered how her feet never went numb because she never seemed to move.

Her toes would wiggle if she happened to remove her shoes, but that was only when they had a real break. The threat of Naraku was always on the horizon, but Kagome got super irritable near the end. She'd force Inuyasha to take extra breaks so they could eat, sleep, and breathe.

Inuyasha could bark all he wanted; everyone knew who the alpha of their pack was.

Shippou always found it funny when the two of them got into a fight. He wanted to burn the hanyou's ears off every time he snuck off to see Kikyou. Not because he thought she was dangerous, but because the scent of Kagome's tears would forever haunt him each time he did.

Most of the time, she never said anything. He would crawl into her lap, usually for a bedtime story, and her voice would start to warble, arms tightening on either side as she tried to keep going. He never complained when the story stopped, merely tucked his head under her chin as he tried to comfort her.

Most nights, they fell asleep like that. Kagome provided a warmth like nothing he'd ever experienced, and at such a young age, he couldn't get enough. There was no judgment, even after he'd stolen her shards, and the smile she gave him filled with something he hadn't known he was missing.

Water spilled onto the parchment, and it took him a moment to realize where it was coming from. Small hands clenched into fists, eyes filling with more unshed tears.

He missed her so much.

The image he'd conjured faded as he sat back on his heels, attempting to wipe his sorrow away without Sesshoumaru noticing. But his sniffles slowly grew in volume, and soon he'd covered his face as sobs wracked his shoulders. He managed to keep from wailing, the hollowness in his chest breaking his heart all over again.

The rain continued to pour outside and inside the cave. The picture he'd been making was now completely ruined, but he didn't even care. It was only a picture.

It was only a picture.

She wasn't even here to scold him about being too impatient before the paint dried.

Would he ever get her back?

Teal sleeves were soaked by the time he finally quieted, shoulders still shaking. He couldn't even remember why he'd started crying in the first place. All he knew was that things would never be the same until she came back.

Something touched the top of his head. Green eyes were wide as he turned around, startled to find Sesshoumaru looking at him. He squeezed Shippou's head, claws brushing the tips of his ears before he pulled away.

"Do not feel ashamed, kit," he murmured. "Your connection runs deep."

"Do you think she'll ever come back?" he hiccupped.

"Hnn." He retracted his claws, arm resting over his bent knee. "But if she does not, you must grow strong enough to find her in her time."

Shippou blinked the rest of his tears away as he processed the daiyoukai's advice. How had he never thought of that before? He'd been so focused on her returning to him that he'd never considered the idea that he'd have to go to her.

"Will I be strong like you?" he asked. There was no question of his being stronger. He'd do whatever he could to see her again. If he had to wait 500 years to hug his mother again, so be it. It just meant he'd have more time to get more tails.

The corner of Sesshouamru's mouth twitched, and he shifted slightly, offering up a section of the pelt beside him. "Only time will tell."

Wiping the remaining tears from his face, Shippou crawled into the fur, not bothering to hide the way he rubbed his face against it. There was a slight buzz, the vibrations doing much to soothe his aching heart. He would do it. Whether it was one, five, ten, a hundred years, he'd do it.

He'd make her proud.

He gazed up at Sesshoumaru, intent on thanking him, then caught sight of his drawing. It lay across his knee, partially tucked into his sleeve, but it was fully visible. Dark brushstrokes were crisp, framing an angelic face with vibrant blue eyes. Her expression was soft, wistful, and Shippou tried to remember ever seeing her look that way.

The battle had gone on for far too long, wearing them down to the bone. An uninterrupted night's sleep was rare, the chance to smile even less so, and all the smiles near the end had been forced.

"When did she look like that?" Shippou asked, folding his hands under his chin.

Sesshoumaru pushed the parchment the rest of the way into his sleeve. "I imagine it is what she looks like now," he replied. "Without the burden of the jewel looming over her."

Shippou nodded, shifting closer to his new guardian with a yawn. "Was she always that pretty?"

Sesshoumaru's head fell back against the cave wall, eyes closing. "Always."

Chapter Text

They continued on their trek, falling into the routine of stopping to rest every other day unless Shippou practiced expanding his youki. Sesshoumaru always seemed to know when he was extra tired, even though Shippou was left to his own devices most of the time.

It was odd. The hairs on the back of Shippou's neck were always standing on end, as he was constantly being watched, but it had shifted from acute awareness to subtle acknowledgement. Sesshoumaru wasn't going to hurt him, that he was certain of now, but it was still weird having him around all the time.

Then again, he never had to worry about any of the bigger youkai bothering him, either.

There were a few who'd tried—dispersing his youki was always easier in open fields, but provided little protection—but even if they approached Shippou, a subtle flick of Sesshoumaru's claws had them scampering away. Shippou had stopped thanking him; his usual response of "It is of no consequence" only made him roll his eyes now.

Shippou didn't know why the daiyoukai was protecting him, but he knew it had something to do with Mama.

He never talked about her outright, but the comfort of Sesshoumaru's claws on his head or his pelt around his shoulders was never far when the doubt of her returning became too much to bear alone.

'Training' was a good distraction. While strengthening his youki was done by himself, Sesshoumaru also made sure their paths crossed with smaller youkai. They barely had consciousness, acting on pure instinct based on their breed of animal. They weren't great to eat, but each kind forced Shippou to sharpen a different skill.

Agility, speed, cunning, camouflage; each was a step further in making Shippou a better youkai. And he had someone to look up to now.

While silent, Sesshoumaru was extremely intimidating. Who wouldn't want to frighten people off with just a mere look? Shippou knew Sesshoumaru's size had a lot to do with it—Shippou barely reached his knee—but he wanted to be that fierce.

Even now, being in the middle of a spring, sans clothing and armour, he had an air of unapproachability about him. Lounging against the far bank, Sesshoumaru appeared to be sleeping. His elbows rested on the ground, pressing the grass into the dirt as his hair floated on the surface like snakes.

Shippou had pulled his hair free from its usual ponytail. It had grown since Mama had first disappeared, and he'd done his best to keep it tidy, but she'd been the expert when it came to brushing it. It just never felt the same when he did it—not that he had a brush in the first place.

Sighing, he dove under the water, cheeks bulging as he held his breath. His vision was better than a human's underwater, but nowhere near close to being clear. He puttered around for a minute, giving Sesshoumaru a wide berth, but an idea struck, and he shot to the surface.

Auburn hair parted like a curtain as he pushed it out of his face, and he looked over at the daiyoukai. He still hadn't opened his eyes, but his breathing was controlled and even. "Can Jaken see underwater?" he asked.

The question stirred a response, and his shoulders rolled as he shifted his position. "As well as any land youkai can," he replied.

Shippou always found it weird that he was so willing to answer his questions, but he enjoyed it, nonetheless. Sesshoumaru never treated him like a child; he knew he was one, but though he had a long way to go in becoming a proper adult, Sesshoumaru's tone was never condescending.

Inuyasha was the complete opposite. He always acted like he knew better just because he was bigger and stronger, but half of the time, Shippou had made better decisions than the hanyou. Especially when it came to making Mama happy.

She'd cried way too much when they'd been searching for the shards. If it wasn't about Inuyasha or Kikyou, it was about not being able to do enough—be enough—and no matter what he'd done, Shippou hadn't been able to dry her tears properly. She always pretended that she was fine, but Shippou knew better.

What he didn't know, was how to make her happy. His happiness came in the form of treats from her bag and snuggles in her sleeping bag. Mama never ate those, though. She enjoyed her homemade bento much more, even though there was nothing sweet in it at all. She'd taught him the importance of eating healthy food.

She'd never gotten around to teaching him how to hunt, but Shippou knew that wasn't her forte, anyway. She could sense other youkai, but she couldn't smell them like he could, and as soon as she used her reiki, she gave away her position. He'd planned on teaching her a few things when she came back, but without knowing how time worked in her era, he had no idea how old she'd be when he saw her.

If he saw her. There was still the chance that he'd have to wait until time caught up with her. But at least now he had someone to wait with.

"Rin is a better swimmer," Sesshoumaru continued, pulling Shippou out of his musings. "She has a better sense of survival." Shippou suddenly had an image of Jaken sputtering in the water and Rin coming to his rescue. He dunked his head again to smother his giggles. He wasn't sure what Sesshoumaru's true opinion of his vassal was, so he didn't want to push his luck.

"Will I get to play with her again?" he asked when he resurfaced.

Sesshoumaru finally opened his eyes, hands flexing against the bank as water rippled against his chest. "In time." It wasn't an outright promise, but it was a denial, either. Shippou had learned that Sesshoumaru didn't like absolutes. He wasn't sure if it was because Sesshoumaru didn't know, or if he wanted Shippou to figure it out for himself, but as long as there wasn't a definite answer, there was room for change—and possibility.

Maybe that was why he'd gravitated toward Kagome in the first place.

Inuyasha had never had a straight answer, either. The bluster was used to cover up his embarrassment at not knowing where their search would take them next. It was why he relied so heavily on Mama's ability to sense the shards. Shippou never understood why Inuyasha couldn't just be honest about it.

Most of Shippou's attacks had come after one of Inuyasha's lies. His birth parents had always taught him the importance of telling the truth. It was one of the few things he still remembered, but maybe that was because it was more of a sensation than a real memory.

One of the first things that youkai were taught was the difference between scents. They picked up on the basic ones like joy, sadness, anger, and fear as infants, but the slight souring of someone's scent when they lied was usually next. It wasn't always discernible, as some people became masters at lying, but that's when you had to pay attention to other people.

Shippou couldn't always pick up on Inuyasha's lies—the ones about Kikyou were the easiest—but it was the one thing that Mama could always sense, even as a human. The souring of her scent was what always gave the hanyou away. She got really good at hiding her physical reaction, but Shippou was always close enough to her to tell.

She always needed some alone time afterward, too. Sometimes it was a bath, sometimes it was a trip back through the well. They all knew what a delay in the search meant, and they'd all done their best to comfort her whenever she voiced the need for a break.

Inuyasha, on the other hand, instead of just admitting to the lie, would double down and try to force her back onto the hunt. By the end, no one was surprised when the beads around his neck would activate. He cared about her, in his own way, but he could never get his brain to connect with his mouth, and his way of persuading her to continue the hunt never worked.

Calling her a shard detector had been the worst way to go about it.