A blinding flash tore through the sky, not lightning, but a surge of demon energy, raw and devastating. It swept across the ground, swift and merciless, erasing hundreds of white-robed figures in a single breath. Blood and broken limbs painted the earth red.
'Terrifying power, terrifying sword,' Haru thought, swallowing hard. He'd Known of Sesshomaru's Bakusaiga before, but seeing it unleashed was something else. If measured as a Noble Phantasm, it'd rank at least Anti-City level. And with its relentless, death-bound curse, its true threat was even greater.
"One got away?" Sesshomaru sheathed Bakusaiga, his face a mask of boredom. He turned sharply. "Answer my question. Now."
Rihan stepped forward, his companions Yuki Onna and Ushioni casting worried glances his way. "I'm Nura Rihan, son of Nurarihyon. If I can help, I'll tell you everything."
His words were humble yet sharp, hinting at his worth without challenging Sesshomaru's authority. It was a clever move, and it showed. Even Sesshomaru, with his royal lineage, couldn't fault the young demon's poise.
'He's got more grace than my fool of a brother,' Sesshomaru thought, his mind drifting briefly to Inuyasha.
Rihan, meanwhile, was piecing it together. 'Silver hair, crescent moon, that deadly blade, and such cold pride… This has to be Sesshomaru, Lord of the Western Lands!' His throat tightened. 'If I could just win his aid…' Outwardly calm, his heart raced with possibility. A way out of this mess might be standing right in front of him.
Haru watched the exchange, feeling oddly out of place beside two figures, so striking, they seemed unreal. He edged back a step. Nearby, Tsuda stared at the carnage, his face pale and queasy. Haru frowned but didn't faze himself, after the mess he faced in the Holy war.
"Tell me why you were hunted," Sesshomaru said, his voice flat.
After some back-and-forth, Sesshomaru and Haru grasped the chaos gripping Kyoto. Rihan, quick on the uptake, figured out their goal: a rescue.
'If they're here to save someone, maybe we can work together,' Rihan thought. Summoning his nerve, he spoke up. "My lord… You're Sesshomaru, the Western Lord, aren't you? I have a task I can't do alone. I was hoping—"
"You want my strength?" Sesshomaru cut in, his tone icy. He'd heard such pleas too often from those who saw him as a tool.
Koihan met his gaze. "No. I offer mine to you."
"Oh?"
"I know this city inside out. I have people on the inside. Whether it's saving someone or crushing the Hundred Demons, I can help." Rihan pressed on, bold but steady. "You could level a city without breaking a sweat, but keeping your target safe? That's trickier, isn't it?"
Sesshomaru studied him. A flicker of respect crossed his eyes, gone in an instant. "I reject your offer. You're too weak to stand as my equal. Cooperation requires balance."
He preferred solitude. If not for the silver orb's tracking, Haru and Tsuda wouldn't even be here. Rihan's proposal didn't hold enough weight; Sesshomaru could handle this alone. Hostages? He'd stormed the underworld before; such concerns didn't faze him.
"If not cooperation, then a trade," Rihan said, gritting his teeth. "When this is done, every territory from Kyoto to Edo under the Hundred Demons' control is yours. They'll join the Western Lands."
Haru's eyes widened. That was half of Japan on the table. If Sesshomaru took it, he'd outshine his father and gain the edge to unite the nation. Who could say no?
"I refuse," Sesshomaru said without hesitation.
"...." Haru blinked.
"No matter your reasons, tossing aside your ancestors' legacy so easily is pathetic. You're not worth bargaining with." Sesshomaru's face remained stone-cold, unmoved by the promise of power.
Haru glanced at him, struck by the demon's unshakable pride. It was rare, almost awe-inspiring, though, honestly, a little stubborn too.
Rihan paused, then spoke with quiet resolve. "It's not tossing it aside. It's rebuilding. The Hundred Demons aren't what they were. My father can't fix it, but I can, no I must. Everything we have now is rotten. To make it right, I'll tear it down and start over."
Sesshomaru's gaze shifted. He saw something in Rihan now, a spark of his own past defiance. "Hardly easy. But fine. Save the girl, and I'll cut down this 'Yellow Spring' for you."
Inside, Sesshomaru weighed it: 'Four centuries of chaos; it's time to end it. Taking their forces could be the key. What my father couldn't do, I will.' A quiet thrill stirred in him.
In that unremarkable wildland, two leaders struck a deal that would reshape the world. The air grew heavy with its weight. Everyone felt it except Haru, whose focus drifted. His ahoge quivered.
'Something's watching me…'
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------
For Muramasa Shirou, forging wasn't just a skill; it was his lifeblood. When his family crumbled, he was young, his siblings younger still, Yuri barely a baby. As the eldest, he'd done everything to keep them alive: crafting killing blades for samurai, ornate swords for nobles, even sharpening kitchen knives for peasants.
His elders had taught him a swordsmith's honor; pour your soul into every piece. But survival left no room for that. His works were hollow, mere tools.
Life was brutal back then. Hunger, sickness, war, bandits, demons; the danger never stopped. Shirou couldn't say how he'd endured, only that he'd stayed awake, eyes open even in sleep, terrified that his siblings would vanish.
Somehow, he'd dragged them out of that hell. But now, he stood in a different fire.
"Without this sword, Yuri dies!" Shirou swung the hammer, mechanical and relentless. He didn't care how many would fall to this blade. Yuri was all that mattered.
"I might not make it," he thought, a chill creeping in. He wasn't even forging yet, just refining metal but he felt it: his soul was wearing thin. Like the famous swords he broke, it was being hammered down, inching toward collapse.
"Can I finish before I break? And if I do, will I still know Yuri?"
Clang.
"I'll forget her, turn into a shell… I can't let that happen!"
Clang.
"I won't!"
"I need to see her again!"
Clang.
"I'll dress her in bright kimonos, cook her favorite meals, watch her grow and stay by her side, keep her safe—"
"I want her to smile every day!"
A faint hum rose, like gears clicking into place. The world shifted.
"Do you want to live?"
"Who's there?" Shirou snapped his head up. No one. The voice felt unreal, yet it echoed clear in his mind.
"What do you want?"
"What will you give?"
"What can you give?"
"I've got nothing," Shirou murmured. "Just this body and a soul about to shatter."
"…Contract…"
"Why me?"
"It's simpler to use someone suitable here than send a guardian."
A vast, glowing star-wheel loomed before him.
"If this saves her…" Shirou reached out, dazed.
"No!"
"Brother, stop!"
"You'll never come back!" A tug at his sleeve jolted him. That voice—his soul trembled.
"Yuri!"
He spun around but found no one.
Then, in the dark, a tiny orb glowed, warm and soft. Next to the grand wheel, it was a speck. But Shirou turned from the wheel and stretched toward the light.
"It's warm… familiar… Yuri?"
Light flared, swallowing the shadows.
"Uh… huh? Did I doze off?" Shirou blinked, hammer in hand.
He went back to work, unaware of the shift inside him. Each strike was forging more than metal; it was shaping him, nudging him toward an Inherent Barrier, a rare magic born from his core. It wasn't ready yet, but the path was set.
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Atop the Takamagahara Tower, Shion paused her puzzle, startled to see Yuri smile "Something good happened? You look happy," she said, puzzled.
Yui's smile was soft. "Yes… something worth smiling for."
She pressed her hands to her chest. 'Brother…Shirou's alive, so close… tied to me… I'll keep him safe!'
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------
At the Yellow Spring Tower, the man once called Amakusa Shirou sat in meditation. Jiu, bandaged and missing an arm, rested nearby. He'd tended her himself, cutting away flesh tainted by Bakusaiga's curse.
Her report made it clear: silver hair, demon sword—Sesshomaru.
His plan was nearing its end, but trouble brewed. It wasn't new, every time he tried to shift the world, odd forces blocked him. Maybe something out there didn't like him.
He'd moved the Rashomon gates to Shirou's forge, and sealed Kyoto's last exit. The city was locked tight in a barrier even Sesshomaru couldn't break through.
Guards and barriers were his safety valves. Unless they all failed…
"Is this it?" Shirou opened his eyes, unease gnawing at him. "Why this feeling? What did I miss?"
.....
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