Disclaimer: Inuyasha belongs to Rumiko Takahashi, I'm only playing in the sandbox.

A/N: All I can do is apologise for taking so long with this! My inspiration is fickle at the best of times, but hopefully now that I've pulled myself back into it there shouldn't be a gap of month(s) between updates. Fingers crossed.
Anyway - this chapter is more of an interlude than anything; winding up towards the big first meeting! Also the introduction of my first original character; any and all opinions on her and her interaction with poor old Sesshoumaru will be much appreciated! Some little edits will be done on previous chapters too - need to sort out my gross comma misuse. :) Thanks to everyone who took the time to review, favourite or alert this story in the gap between updates. I owe you all hugs for being so brilliant. So, here we are. Hope you enjoy!

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Digging Up Old Bones

His arrival back at the keep is as boring as expected.

Soldiers salute, courtiers bow and pander at his feet, servants scurry through the wide hallways bearing trays of food for the evening banquet - and, as ever, whispers of mutiny seep their way through the paper walls, as plain to his ears as if they were engraved in stone and ink.

Really. They could at least make a decent attempt at subtlety.

Whatever they care to plan, it doesn't bother him - dissent is something he grew up with. He fed more on rebellion than he did the blood of the hunt, and everyone in the keep knows that trying to outwit Lord Sesshoumaru is probably worth as much as signing your own death warrant and handing it over to the executioner. Those who do dare to work against him are either incredibly stupid or have liquid ambition in place of blood, thirsty only for the power of the West with no regard for its Lord. Even if that Lord happens to be the strongest force in the land.

Maybe ambition and stupidity are one and the same after all.

As soon as he can, he excuses himself from the welcoming committee. Moments later he is happily shut away in the only peaceful corner he possesses in the entire keep - his study. The musty scent of the room is nearly as therapeutic as wandering his lands and he relaxes easily back into the chair, choosing to ignore the stack of papers that have colonised his desk and formed a primitive civilisation in his absence.

Damned paperwork.

"I thought I'd find you in here, Sesshoumaru-sama."

He doesn't need to open his eyes to know exactly who is speaking. The familiar scent of warm leather and danger is enough.

"Akiyo."

The female inuyoukai shifts, ever-present armour clanking quietly. The screen slides shut.

"The soldiers are glad to see you back, my Lord." Her voice is nonchalant, the respectful title tacked artlessly to her speech, an afterthought. It should annoy him, rile his instinct as alpha - but instead, he just sighs. Being associated with his senior general since he was nothing more than a bratty pup has done wonders for dulling his temper towards her blatant disregard for protocol. Demanding unconditional subservience from someone who saw him through tears and illness is a waste of his time. Unfortunately, she knows it well and is never above taking advantage. Her current smirk tells him as much.

"Though I suspect you're less than glad to be here."

"Hn. Your powers of deduction fail to astound me. This Sesshoumaru hopes that you are more stringent with the troops than you are with keeping your instinct sharp, general."

She crosses her arms.

"You know, it's awfully hard work trying to inspire a bunch of lazy inuyoukai whose leader insists on wandering about the countryside like a lost pup instead of staying to supervise their training."

Her frank attitude wanders perilously close to the line even with his added lenience. His quiet growl quickly stiffens her joints - although the wry grin proves she isn't really sorry at all.

"Apologies, my Lord."

He nods and glances down at the painting sitting quiet on his desk, one ear trained on his general as she habitually checks the weapons adorning her waist.

"Report, Akiyo."

"Ah. I was beginning to wonder when you were going to get to that, because Sayuri-san told me to tell you that..." His eyebrow climbs steadily towards his hairline, gaze becoming pointed. And why exactly did he appoint her as general again? "All right, all right, I'm getting on with it. Don't get all snarly, I was only trying to relay a message for you, Sesshoumaru-sama."

He pinches the bridge of his nose and considers giving up trying to halt the impending headache.

"Your propensity to turn conversation to an unrelated tangent may be useful for diverting spies, general, but in this study you know that it not required and is nothing more than an irritation. Report."

She sighs, and stands to attention.

"The troops are fine; some the new recruits are a little shaky, but after stepping through the kata with swords they are improving very quickly. No outstanding messages of importance from the other lands, no emissaries or ambassadors from the cardinal Lords. In other words, very quiet. Nothing further to report."

"This is acceptable. We should expect some degree of silence. However, if their... lack of communication continues over the coming months, it would be prudent to remind them of their obligations in trade and support, if only for propriety. Continue monitoring them."

Akiyo nods.

"Yes, my lord."

Silence reigns. When it becomes clear she isn't going to speak without a prompt, he gives a long-suffering sigh.

"... and Sayuri-san's message?"

Her wicked smirk widens. "Ah, she only wished you to know that Rin is desperate to greet you. The pup has been... excitable. Although I am told her lessons have been progressing well."

"Good."

"Nonetheless..." Akiyo trails off, noticing the painting. Her curiosity is obvious.

'And once Akiyo takes an interest in something, there is no other outcome other than her satisfaction or the death of the thing in question. A good reason for appointing her as general in her father's wake, but a trait which is unnecessary at this moment in time.'

He'd rather not have his newest acquisition shredded.

"This Sesshoumaru recovered it from a human miko while travelling. The technique could be of merit to the Western artisans and the prestige and income would augment both our reputation and the treasury."

With permission, Akiyo moves closer to examine it.

"Shrewd, Sesshoumaru-sama."

He remains stoic while she scrutinises it.

"Bah, it's nothing special. ... but what's this...?" She catches something in the wood. He follows the line of her claw, quickly translating the minute kanji.

He doesn't know what to make of what he reads.

"'Every thousand mile journey begins with one step - look after her.' What the-" Akiyo mutters and studies the kanji again, steel rimming her eyes. "Those words... the proverb, it is Touga-sama's, correct?" At his sharp nod, her hand falls to her sword. "And in script small enough for youkai eyes only, in possession of a miko... convenient, Sesshoumaru-sama. Too convenient." His general is unsettled; he, however, is only mildly ruffled. Outwardly.

"... Indeed. I will think on this further. Akiyo, see to the troops. There will be an inspection within the hour."

Her fingers whiten on the hilt of her sword and he can see the telltale glint in her eyes that means she is considering disobedience - but after a pointed look on his part she subsides and rattles off a sharp salute.

"Yes, my Lord."

The screen scrapes against the runners and brisk footsteps recede down the corridor. Sesshoumaru sits back, lost in thought.

''Even a thousand mile journey begins with one step'. ... Tch. Father and his philosophy. What purpose do his words have here, in a world where he is nothing more than a memory?'

He can almost feel Lord Touga breathing down the line of his neck, lounging in the corner and watching his every move with an indulgent smile. A quiet growl. It is... uncomfortable. Unwanted. He is Lord here, not a dead man. It has to be dealt with.

'I must know the source of this. The half-breed's wench will tell me, or she will face the consequences.'

Resolved, he stands. The trials of court life can wait no longer and there are soldiers waiting to be inspected. When he opens the screen, the attendant outside is already waiting.

"Take the item on my desk and give it to Shinobu-san. Tell him to see what his craftsmen can make of it. It must not be damaged."

"Yes, my lord."

The girl disappears in a flurry of black hair and clumsy limbs and he sighs inwardly, wondering if the painting will make it to his chief of staff in one piece. Hearing the distant bark of orders at the parade grounds, he banishes thoughts of those misplaced words and goes to terrorise the soldiers.

Nothing works better than inflicting fear to steady his resolve.

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Shu stands by the gallery window, hands in pockets and watching the world walk by. Two days since Kagome left for the past - if his assumption is right, his past self will have found his cryptic message by now, and will be spending his time stomping around the keep and growling at anyone who dares to get in his way.

'You still held influence over me then, father. Your shadow was the one thing I couldn't escape. I discovered the truth to those ideal of yours in time through my dealings with Kagome, and I hope that was enough for you.'

A car picks its way past the pedestrians crossing to the square - people with baskets and bags wanting to enjoy the sun at the weekend while they can. He doesn't blame them for it; he'd be sitting on the balcony of his flat now if he could help it, but something in him is too restless to stay still.

Stepping away from the glass, Shu walks over to the 'Feudal Myth' paintings; his eyes immediately search for any imperfections - artist reflex, Inuyasha calls it sometimes, and then reminds him that he was an 'anal asshole' long before he started being an artist.

'And he is still an impudent pup, even after all these years.'

His eyes fall on the small canvas of his father, running across the sky in youkai form.

'As I was, once.'

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He had just started his training. Only with a wooden sword, stepping through the kata slowly and surely - or, in his case, not very surely at all. More often than not, his form was crooked, his sword too low, arms not straight enough - and his teacher was forced to reprimand him. Afterwards, his personal guard would bathe the bruises and wipe away the treacherous tears. Akiyo always understood, even after being assigned to him against her will.

But otherwise, young Sesshoumaru was alone in his battle to gain strength and respect.

After a particularly brutal training session, he went to the gardens - curled at the base of a large tree and sullenly nursed his wounds. It was there that his father found him. The older inuyoukai had been travelling for almost two months and in his absence had become a focus for Sesshoumaru's resentment. His reappearance was the catalyst for his pent up frustrations to spill out, burning like fire in his blood.

"Why are you making me do this?! I can't fight! Don't you see, father? All you're doing is making things worse!"

He struck, small claws bright, again and again and again, and each time he was blocked. Those gold eyes revealed nothing except understanding. But he didn't want understanding - he wanted anger! Rage! Something he could fight against, grapple with until he proved himself to be more than just a helpless pup.

Lord Touga was immovable. Sesshoumaru exhausted himself and eventually fell at his father's feet, squeezing his eyes shut against his gnawing emotions. The Lord knelt carefully, laying a hand on his son's head.

They stayed there until Sesshoumaru found his voice.

"... why?"

"Because I need you to be strong, my son. I won't always be here to protect you."

"But father..."

He stopped as Touga sighed. The daiyoukai shifted his fur and sat back next to him, uncaring of the dewy grass staining his pristine clothes. Gold eyes so like his own crinkled into a smile.

"... when I was your age, my father trained me as I am training you. And I'll tell you something secret, if you promise not to breathe a word to anyone else."

Captured by his father's gaze, he nodded. Touga leaned closer, smile widening.

"I barely lasted a week before I ran away."

"You ran away?!"

His father chuckled.

"Into the forest. They sent a patrol to catch me, and my father wouldn't let me leave the castle for weeks. He shut me in the library and bid me read all of the books on the largest shelf - you know which I mean?'

Stunned, he nodded again. The shelf ran almost the entire length of the library. He hadn't even read one book from there, and his father had read them all? The older youkai rumbled a full-bellied laugh.

"You see? You aren't alone, Sesshoumaru. You just have to remember to be patient, and that one day you will be strong and have everything you could ever desire. Now, go to the healer and ask for something for your cuts. I promise that we will sit down and discuss this once you are recovered."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

He stood, bowed, and started walking towards the keep. He could feel his father watching him, that steady gaze burning between his shoulder blades. In the space between each step, Sesshoumaru wondered what expression he was wearing. Pride? Sorrow? Too caught up in his thoughts, he barely heard the words whispered on the breeze - but their impact was profound. They lodged in his brain, latched on and never let go; at least, until the arrival of a human princess and the start of his journey along the path of supreme conquest. His father's hope for him only resurfaced on that day in his study, and the words remained hollow and empty until their meaning was returned by a certain young miko.

"Even a thousand mile journey begins with one step... I swear, my son, that I will not let you down. And you will be the most powerful Lord that the West will ever see."

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Blunt human nails trail across the white paint, and Shu frowns at the likeness of Lord Touga.

"But my thousand mile journey isn't over yet, is it?"

His phone rings on the desk. A few strides, a check of the screen...

"Inuyasha."

"We've found him. Meet us at the house, bastard, and don't be late."

Shu smiles his less-than-human smile and shuts his phone. Seconds later the gallery door is swinging shut, and he is gone into the sunlight.

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Written for Set 1, Prompt 6, Nostalgic, at LJ comm iy_no_kakera. Un-beta'd. Thanks for reading, and reviews are appreciated! Especially concrit. :)
(On a side note, not sure if I'll be able to continue doing the prompts in order - it's too hard! xD I think it's going to be a failure on that front, somehow.)