Nekomata by Chiaztolite
Nekomata
Author's Note: This story takes place after the events in ‘Still Rain’ but can be read as a stand-alone. Enjoy!
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Kagome spied two nekomata yōkai. A pair: one male, one female. They were both about the size of a mature tiger. However, as it often was in nature, the female was larger and showed definite signs of being the more vicious of the two.
Resembling a pair of feral cats, they had limbs like humans but paws instead of hands and feet, decorated with razor-sharp talons. Their facial features were distinguished, with sunken eyes slanting upwards at the end, and prominent cheekbones. Their long, white hair streamed down their backs as they moved agilely from roof to roof on all fours. They had been restlessly pacing on the thatched roof of the huts ever since the moment they sensed the Shikon Miko entering the village gate.
Kagome had sent all the villagers away so she could deal with the cat demons without putting anyone in danger. She stopped at a distance, looking up at the roof of the Chieftain’s house; bow in her hands and an arrow at the ready.
The male nekomata spotted her first. It pounced to perch on the edge of the roof and snarled.
“Begone, Priestess,” he hissed. “We have no quarrel with you. Take your bow and your sacred arrows and leave us. This place is ours, and we are not fond of sharing.”
“This village belongs to the hardworking people who built it and work tirelessly to make an honest living here,” Kagome said. “I cannot allow the two of you to destroy their efforts.”
The female came closer, sidling up to her mate, her long feathery tail brushing against his sides before coiling around his body in a possessive gesture.
“How wrong you are,” she spoke, her voice slithered like an otherworldly caress over Kagome’s skin. "This village and everything in it belongs to whoever is strong enough to take it. A little Miko like yourself would be a lovely addition to our afternoon meal. Stay if you wish, and see what will become of you.”
Ignoring the female’s threat, Kagome refused to budge.
“You have killed and consumed two men, three women, and four children. You have also injured many others. That is more than enough,” she said, her voice ringing loud and clear in the emptiness of the village. “If you promised to leave this village and seek an honourable way of living, I will spare your lives. But, if you insist on continuing this path of violence and destruction, I will be forced to put an end to you both.”
The male chortled. “You are not the first Priestess to try to chase us away with empty threats. Humans are nothing to us, merely food.” A long pink tongue snaked out to lick around his whiskered snout.
Kagome scoffed, lifting her bow and taking aim. “Then, I suppose we have nothing more to say to each other.”
The male nekomata roared and launched himself at the awaiting Miko. Deftly, she sidestepped the pouncing beast, swirling, keeping him within her eyesight as she searched for an opening for a counterattack. The male nekomata was fast, but she had also come a long way from the days of following Inuyasha and the gang.
Kagome doubled down on her speed, knowing the nekomata would be right at her heels, and sprinted around a grouping of huts. The ground shook under the yōkai’s paws. Then, using an obliging wheelbarrow as a steppingstone, Kagome leapt high in the air, positioning her body for a perfect flip. As the male charged at her, she had her bow readied.
“I am sorry I have to do this,” she whispered just before she fired. “I hope you will find peace in the Afterlife.”
Her arrow was swift, and her aim was true. The sharp tip hit the male nekomata right between his eyebrows, instantly killing him. The lifeless body plummeted, crashing onto the ground with a loud thud. The purification work began almost simultaneously as the yōkai flesh gradually disintegrated into nothingness.
Kagome let herself drop, a pile of hay cushioning the fall. Quickly, she rolled over, already preparing herself for what was sure to come. The female nekomata’s heart-rending cries from witnessing her mate’s death tugged at Kagome’s chest, but she hardened herself and took another aim. Perhaps, she thought, the silver lining was that they would be reunited and together again in the Afterlife.
But… there was no one. She searched her surrounding, checking every nook and crannies. She tried to get a feel of the yōkai’s aura, but the air was also clear.
The female nekomata had disappeared, leaving her alone in the empty village.
After searching within the boundaries of the village to no avail, Kagome went to the villagers’ hiding place to advise them of what had happened. Naturally, they were concerned to hear one of the nekomata was still out there somewhere.
“Miko-sama… Do you think… she will come back to the village?” Their leader asked, face pinched with fear and worry.
"Please rest assured, Chief." She smiled at the elderly man. “I will go hunt her down right now and make sure she does not return.”
The villagers were reassured enough to go back to their village. Meanwhile, Kagome tracked the female nekomata to a nearby forest. She knew the trees around these parts were ancient. Many of the pines stretched high to the sky, invariably making the forest dark and shadowed. She peered at the dimming sunlight visible between the thick layers of leaves, fully aware that time was now of the essence. She would have less chance of success once the light died. Nighttime was yōkai territory, and she did not wish to fight one surrounded by its darkness.
She considered halting her search to meet up with Sesshōmaru. Her daiyōkai partner would undoubtedly be able to assist her with tracking down the nekomata.
“Sesshōmaru?” The name was spoken in a whisper that echoed in the silence of the forest. The echoes wrapped around Kagome, setting the soft hairs on her nape to rise to attention. A sinister chuckle followed. “Ah, I see… You have the scent of a male on you, and yet you killed mine. How dare you…”
Then, she saw the nekomata between the trees, prowling towards her. The female’s blood-red eyes were trained on her. The growls emanating from the demon raised goosebumps all over her arms. Somehow, the nekomata appeared much more sinister and menacing in this shadowed, wooded environment than in the village.
Kagome steeled herself. Eyes narrowed in concentration, she took aim, waiting for the nekomata to advance just enough to be within firing range. She released her arrow, and it punctured the yokai’s throat. Her enemy staggered only for a brief moment and continued sprinting towards her.
Swiftly, Kagome prepared another arrow. The creature let out a deafening shriek when the second arrow skewered her forehead, hurtling her backwards and pinning her onto the tree. Then, she whimpered weakly and shuddered before she breathed her last.
Kagome lowered her bow and exhaled a sigh of relief. She wiped the sheen of perspiration off her brow with the back of her hand. Now that her mission was complete, she could finally meet up with Sesshōmaru, Jaken, and Ah-Un as planned.
But, before she left, she bent her head and closed her eyes to send up a prayer for her fallen foe.
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Sesshōmaru never let his eyes stray from the cluster of trees in the distance. A lump of uneasiness sat heavily in the pit of his stomach.
Kagome was late, and she was rarely late.
“Sesshōmaru-sama,” Jaken prompted him as the imp peered at the darkening horizon. “Kagome-sama is really late, isn’t she? Do you think… something could’ve happened to her at the village?”
He clenched his teeth.
Perhaps he should not have let her take on a mission on her own. However, he knew she had been eager to show how much she had improved since they started travelling together.
Two nekomata yōkai had been terrorizing a village just east of here. The Chieftain had sought their group to beg assistance from the Shikon Miko. Being the kind, generous, soft-hearted woman she was, Kagome had agreed to the request straightaway. Since there were two damnable cats to exterminate, Sesshōmaru had suggested that he go with her, but she refused, citing the usual excuse:
‘Most villagers aren’t used to having a daiyōkai in their midst. They’d be too uncomfortable to open up about the problems. I’ll go alone, and I’ll catch up with you later.’
He clenched his jaw with annoyance.
It was time for the villagers seeking the Shikon Miko’s aid to understand her presence would include the inu daiyōkai Sesshōmaru by her side. They could either accept it, or forego her help.
This was the last time he would be left behind just so she could make some villagers comfortable.
When a few more minutes passed without any signs of her, Sesshōmaru turned to Jaken. The hour was getting late; nighttime would arrive before they knew it.
“Take Ah-Un and look for shelter,” he told his vassal. “Once the Miko returns, we will find you.”
The imp left with the dragon while the daiyōkai continued his wait. Not long after, his patience was rewarded. He saw her coming out of the woods, sashaying as she crossed the clearing towards him.
“How was the extermination?” He asked when she was little more than an arm’s length away.
“It was challenging,” she said calmly. “But I managed.”
He stared at her, eyes narrowed. When he did not move closer, Kagome went to him. She rubbed herself against his chest, nearly purring, like a cat begging to be petted. The difficulties in her recent battle seemed to make her a little more brazen than usual. In a more ordinary circumstance, he would have welcomed her advances with enthusiasm.
However, at the moment, he was not entirely happy with her.
“You certainly took your time, Miko,” he said tersely.
She grinned widely, showing off her pearly white teeth. “Thank you for waiting, Sesshōmaru.”
He looked away. “Hnn. Let us proceed. Jaken and Ah-Un are just up ahead.”
He turned and began to walk, but her arms snaking around his waist, embracing him from behind, stopped him in his track.
“Sesshōmaru,” she whispered seductively, pressing her cheek against the back of his chest plate. “That place between my legs is already weeping, begging to be filled. Won’t you… help me ease the ache?”
He turned back to face her and arched a brow.
He cupped her shoulder and gently pushed her until she took a few steps backwards. Her back met the rough bark of a tree trunk. Leaning over with one palm beside her head, he lowered his nose to her neck, inhaling deep. He raised his head to look at her; a slow smile blooming upon his lips.
“What fascinating scent you have, Kagome,” he rumbled.
She grinned and raised herself on her toes, angling her head for a kiss. Unmoving, he stared at her, at the pink lips she offered so generously.
But, before those lips touched his, the presence of another had him turning around.
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Kagome bent her head and closed her eyes to send up a prayer for her fallen foe. Suddenly, she heard a hissing sound that prompted her to open her eyes. The corpse of the Nekomata, and the clothes, had disappeared as though swallowed by thin air, leaving only the arrow she had used to exterminate it. The sharp tip was still embedded in the tree trunk.
She gasped, immediately alarmed. It had been an illusion. Some yōkai were masters at such craft, and she had been foolish enough to fall into its trap.
Bow lifted, muscles engaged, all senses on alert. She scanned her surroundings, slowing her breath and letting her breathing pattern guide her heart to slow its beats. She closed her eyes, sharpening her hearing and all the remaining senses. She detected bloodlust and vicious yōki coming from somewhere near.
Kagome opened her eyes.
The nekomata was right in front of her, jagged lips pulled back to reveal a row of gleaming sharp teeth.
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Sesshōmaru ignored Kagome’s behest for a kiss and swivelled around as soon as he sensed the beast’s presence.
A nekomata loomed large behind him, about one hundred paces away. Its tail swished angrily as it swiped the earth with its claw-tipped paws. With a hungry expression on its face, its jaws parted. Saliva dribbled from its chin, teeth glinting in the dim light of early dusk.
Sesshōmaru narrowed his eyes.
“It’s the female nekomata from earlier,” Kagome shouted, panic in her voice. “I exterminated the male, but his mate managed to escape. I spent time looking for her earlier, and now she finally shows herself.” She stepped back and placed herself behind the shelter of his body. “Kill her, Sesshōmaru! Hurry!!”
As she requested, Sesshōmaru pulled Bakusaiga out of its sheath. The gleam of the blade was a bright light under the dying sun. He worked quickly and efficiently; there was no wasted movement. One clean slice was all it took, so fast it was imperceptible.
The one who looked like Kagome could only stare at Sesshōmaru in stunned silence, unsure of what the daiyōkai had done. Then, when the pain began to register, she wordlessly lifted her hand to touch her neck. Like a dam breaking, blood gushed from the slit at her throat. She gasped, both hands stumbling to press on the wound, only to spill more blood, leaking between all ten fingers. In seconds, the front of her priestess clothing was soaked red.
She fell onto her knees, gurgling, head nearly disconnected from the neck if not for a thin cord of tendon.
And meanwhile, Sesshōmaru stared in silence. Calmly, he shook Bakusaiga free of the droplets of blood that stained its blade.
“You deemed this Sesshōmaru unable to distinguish his beloved from a lowly nekomata,” he said, his voice dripping with disgust. “What a foolish endeavour.”
Cats could be tricky, devious creatures, and this one was no exception. Sometime during Kagome’s battle, the nekomata must have cast the curse and transformed the Miko into a cat demon.
Sesshōmaru glanced at the transformed Kagome, wondering how much of the woman’s consciousness had awakened inside the demonic form. He willed her to stay rooted in her spot while he took care of the impostor.
Coldly, Sesshōmaru watched the writhing figure of Kagome dragging herself away from him, all the while striving to keep her head attached to the neck.
One slow step after the other, he followed suit.
“Firstly,” he said. “The Shikon Miko would never have asked this one to kill anything. Her path is not of violence, but peace. She will first attempt a peaceful negotiation and, failing it, purification.”
At first, he had found the Miko’s method of negotiations absurd and, frankly, a waste of time. He himself preferred to dispatch anyone and anything standing in his path with the utmost expediency. It took a long time for them to reach a place of mutual understanding. But, after more than a year spent together, they were able to appreciate each other’s point of view. She had surprised him on more than one occasion, and he dared say she learned a thing or two from him as well. And, slowly but surely, they began to respect each other’s differences, and the strength that resulted from those differences.
Sesshōmaru continued his approach, watching the demon’s slow descent into death with glowing amber eyes.
“Secondly,” Sesshōmaru said. “The Shikon Miko would never have asked this one to kill anything. She would have taken you on herself.”
“Im… Impossible,” the real nekomata rasped. It was not the sound made by her body, as her vocal chord was already severed. A remnant of her magic, her voice seemed to come from everywhere. “My illusion… was perfect… You couldn’t possibly—“
“You may have imitated her form, voice, and scent,” Sesshōmaru said. “But you cannot begin to emulate her heart, mind, or her spirit. You are nothing but a pathetic copy, and you will pay for your paltry trick with your life.”
His blood boiled knowing this lowly demon believed Kagome could be so easily replicated, and that he would accept the false form without any qualms.
A peal of long, eerie laughter emanated from the quivering figure on the ground. She was slowly morphing back into her true form. Her magic escaped her just as surely as her blood flowing from her body to wet the soil beneath. Her long white hair was in disarray, fanning over the ground in sticky tendrils matted with blood.
The unearthly voice spoke again.
“Your Shikon Miko will never rest… until she has torn out your flesh… and tasted your blood… No matter where you go, she will follow. Even to the ends of the earth… she will hunt you down and kill you. And the moment that cunt realized she had killed her beloved with her own hands… will be the moment my vengeance is compl—“
With one swing of Bakusaiga, Sesshōmaru lopped off the head of the nekomata, putting an end to her life and all the magic she carried within this body. The bitch was really getting on his nerves, and he needed to get going to the critical part.
Which was getting his Kagome to return to her proper form.
Sesshōmaru faced the remaining nekomata — a demon in exterior form with the Miko hidden inside. A rosy glow pulsed through those red eyes, as though something was trying to break through. He knew that Kagome was straining and struggling to break the curse somewhere inside the false form. She was beginning to gain consciousness, but she might need a little push to get herself out fully.
Slowly, he put his swords — both swords down, showing the nekomata he meant no harm. The demon observed him, emitting a low growl as they circled each other, each step deliberately slow, as though they were both waiting for a cue to attack.
They launched themselves at each other at the same time. She swatted at him with her large paw, talons fully engaged. He did not doubt she intended to carve out some flesh at the very least. Dodging her expertly, not wanting to hurt her, he kept himself on the defence.
When he spotted an opening, he shoved his right forearm into her mouth, not caring that her new set of jagged, elongated teeth sank into his flesh and tore him. His blood poured into her mouth until she gagged on it; rivulets of red spilled all over her throat. He tackled her until she fell down, his mokomoko wrapping around her back to shield her from the hard ground. With his forearm that was still wedged between her teeth, he pushed her head up and back, baring that spot where her neck and left shoulder met.
Sesshōmaru knew she would fight him as any worthy female would, but he could not afford to hesitate. Fangs lengthening, he sat his teeth at the juncture of her neck, burrowing deep, piercing through the layers of tough sinew. The tang of metal burst on his tongue as blood flowed into his mouth.
Through it all, the demonic part howled in fury, knowing his ultimate goal was to exorcise it out of her body. Her knife-like claws lashed out, desperately grasping at anything to maim. Sesshōmaru flinched when she shredded his back, gouging his armour, the screech of nails against metal sent shivers down his spine. He held on even during the worst of the flailing when she clawed his shoulders and chest, nearly digging out a fistful of flesh from the side of his neck. The scent of his blood, mixed with her own, was potent in the air.
He held on for long moments, pinning her to the ground as she thrashed, exerting his yōki, injecting it into her bloodstream. Finally, he could feel his energy permeating her body, mixing with her blood just as hers commingled with his own, infusing him with her reiki. The exchange of blood bound their life force together. Their powers intertwined, united, banishing anything and everything that was not their own. Together, they expelled the curse of the nekomata. Combined, their forces burned off the last of the feline demon’s magic that was stored within her.
Gradually, the enraged roar became whimpers as the gnarly body he wrestled with turned supple and soft, now sporting the familiar hills and valleys of the curves he had spent so much time worshipping over their year together. Taloned paws transformed into slim, feminine hands that clutched his shoulders as she acquiesced to his bite. He gentled, but he did not lift his lips from her shoulder, and he drank from her a little more, tasting the reiki-charged sweetness of her essence. At the same time, he pressed his forearm against her lips, urging her to take a couple more swallows to seal their bond. She suckled at the wound docilely, now that her blunt teeth were incapable of maiming him.
When she fully returned to the woman he knew and loved, he carefully took his fangs out and kissed the wound gently as she mewled underneath him.
“Welcome back,” Sesshōmaru said, sealing the bite mark with a firm swipe of his tongue. “Kagome.”
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Even after minutes later, she would not stop weeping.
“I hurt you,” she sobbed over his bloodied forearm. Endless tears dripped from her chin. She wailed and cried harder when she saw the state of his chest and back. “I was careless in my mission… and in the end, I hurt you.”
“It is nothing that my yōki cannot fix,” Sesshōmaru told her. “Dry your tears, my mate, and cease your incessant wailing.”
That one word stopped her.
“Mate?” Her eyes widened. “I’m your mate?”
“The exchanging of the blood started the process,” he explained. “It is not yet completed, but we are halfway there.”
She was stunned to speechless, but it did end her tears. He wiped the wet trails off her cheeks with the edge of his sleeve. Though he had never formally asked the question, they had touched upon the subject. Several times. And, if his senses were to be trusted, he believed she was… amenable to the idea of being his mate.
“I should have asked for your consent, but there was no time,” he said as remorse began to sink in. “And you were not in the capacity to comprehend such request.”
Cautiously, he watched her reaction, seeking her true feelings within the astonished expression on her face. “If you do not desire this, there are ways to annul it.”
“Annul it?” She repeated, looking affronted that he dared make such a suggestion. “Silly yōkai. And here I thought you’d never ask!”
“As it turned out, I did not,” he replied, a little self-deprecating humour in his tone. He brushed more grime and blood smears off her face. Yet, even with tears in her eyes and bloodied cheeks, his Miko had never looked more beautiful.
She lifted her gaze to meet his. The fawn of her eyes sparkled with flecks of gold deep within.
“I would’ve said yes,” she told him, putting all of his worries, concerns, and regrets to rest. “No matter how you present it, I would say ‘yes’ every time.”
Sesshōmaru chest tightened with the tenderness he felt more and more whenever he was with her. He simply had no recourse but to accept it was a chronic condition, and it would most likely be something incurable. At least, he thought with a little humour, now he had his mate to take full responsibility— for the rest of their lives — for affecting him this way.
Placing a hand on the back of her head, he brought her closer. His lips brushed against hers, and she opened up to let him in, her tongue shyly meeting his as they melded together into a kiss.
“It was not how I wanted it to happen,” Sesshōmaru said as he cupped her cheek. “I envisioned proper courtship. Mating gifts. I had planned to court you the way an honourable inuyōkai would his chosen female, and prove to you my loyalty, prowess, and worth.”
“I already know you have all those things,” Kagome said, slightly sniffling. "We've been together for over a year! How dense do you think I am?”
“It is tradition,” he insisted. “Very deeply rooted in inuyōkai culture.”
“How deeply rooted?”
“Deep enough to make my mother reach for her smelling salts when she learns about this, which she somehow will.”
Kagome laid her head upon his shoulder and groaned. She did not cherish the thought that the Moon Lady, her future mother-in-law, would soon learn they broke the tradition.
They sat down under a tree, both covered in blood, but together and at peace. His wounds had all been repaired, leaving the skin smooth and unblemished. The only evidence of their recent battle was their torn and soiled clothing. The sun was setting, gracing the horizon with the last vestiges of brilliant orange, red, and burnt sienna.
She laid her head on his shoulder. “So, what do we do now? Can we still make it right?”
“It will be unconventional, but repairable,” he said. “Afterwards, we will complete the rest of the ritual.”
“Oh. What’s left to do?”
His lips twitched into a slight smile. His mokomoko curled around her shoulders to shelter her from the night chill, now that her priestess garb was tattered.
“The enjoyable part,” he murmured against her lips before capturing them again in a long, lingering kiss.