Jaken - Theme #35: Shikon no Tama
Title: Good Night, Kohaku
Genres: Vignette/Drama/Gen
Rating: K
Word count: 532
A/N: Written by request for theburglarcat.
Summary: Jaken realizes Kohaku will die... and wonders why he cares.
Good Night, Kohaku
He doesn’t talk about it. It must be on his mind all the time, like having a constant arrow pointed at his head, or a sword drawn to his neck, and all the while, he is helpless, waiting for his executioner to strike the killing blow. But Kohaku does not talk about the Shikon shard in his neck, or the fear that soon Naraku will take it from him; and when he does, the power of the Shikon no Tama will no longer be there to bind his soul to this world. And the boy will die.
This is what Jaken realizes one night in the middle of a mundane dinner. The boy will die. This is certain. When it shall happen is the only unknown.
Jaken peeks out of the corner of his eye at Kohaku, as though afraid the boy will read his thoughts. He is sitting next to Jaken at the campfire, chewing on the last scraps of their meal. Rin is already asleep, nestled against the slowly rising and falling belly of Ah-Un. Sesshomaru is not there.
This is often the case, and for the first time, Jaken wonders just how wise it is for his lord to leave the boy unguarded so. Surely if Naraku were to strike, he would choose one of these opportune times. Jaken shifts uncomfortably against the log he is sitting on, and tries not to worry. But he was never very good at that.
And then Jaken wonders why he worries. Why he cares for Kohaku’s life at all. With Rin, it is different. If anything were to happen to Rin, Jaken knows it will be his life on the line. But Kohaku has not been with Sesshomaru long, and Jaken feels that his protection will only be temporary.
Of course it will only be temporary, Jaken thinks. The boy will die.
Another jolt in Jaken’s heart. Why should he care? Not long ago, he was exasperated at the prospect of having to look after another disobedient human. Oh no, not another one, he had thought.
The child had been distant at first. Quiet. He was still quiet, but Jaken had come to realize that he had mistaken the boy’s sadness for coldness. In time, Rin had seemed to have gotten him to open up a little. Kohaku appeared fond and protective of Rin, and Jaken could appreciate that. But that was not reason enough to care for his life.
Suddenly Jaken is snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of a twig being thrown into the campfire. Kohaku finished the remainder of fish and discarded the stick it was speared upon. The boy looks up at Jaken, trying to suppress a yawn, and rolls over on the ground.
“Good night, Master Jaken,” he says softly, closing his eyes, and soon his breathing becomes even and Jaken can tell he is fast asleep.
He doesn’t speak often, but Kohaku has a voice. And he whenever he uses it, he treats Jaken like a friend.
Jaken has never had many friends.
He isn’t about to lose one of the few he has.
The boy will not die.
“Good night, Kohaku,” Jaken says.
Genres: Vignette/Drama/Gen
Rating: K
Word count: 532
A/N: Written by request for theburglarcat.
Summary: Jaken realizes Kohaku will die... and wonders why he cares.
Good Night, Kohaku
He doesn’t talk about it. It must be on his mind all the time, like having a constant arrow pointed at his head, or a sword drawn to his neck, and all the while, he is helpless, waiting for his executioner to strike the killing blow. But Kohaku does not talk about the Shikon shard in his neck, or the fear that soon Naraku will take it from him; and when he does, the power of the Shikon no Tama will no longer be there to bind his soul to this world. And the boy will die.
This is what Jaken realizes one night in the middle of a mundane dinner. The boy will die. This is certain. When it shall happen is the only unknown.
Jaken peeks out of the corner of his eye at Kohaku, as though afraid the boy will read his thoughts. He is sitting next to Jaken at the campfire, chewing on the last scraps of their meal. Rin is already asleep, nestled against the slowly rising and falling belly of Ah-Un. Sesshomaru is not there.
This is often the case, and for the first time, Jaken wonders just how wise it is for his lord to leave the boy unguarded so. Surely if Naraku were to strike, he would choose one of these opportune times. Jaken shifts uncomfortably against the log he is sitting on, and tries not to worry. But he was never very good at that.
And then Jaken wonders why he worries. Why he cares for Kohaku’s life at all. With Rin, it is different. If anything were to happen to Rin, Jaken knows it will be his life on the line. But Kohaku has not been with Sesshomaru long, and Jaken feels that his protection will only be temporary.
Of course it will only be temporary, Jaken thinks. The boy will die.
Another jolt in Jaken’s heart. Why should he care? Not long ago, he was exasperated at the prospect of having to look after another disobedient human. Oh no, not another one, he had thought.
The child had been distant at first. Quiet. He was still quiet, but Jaken had come to realize that he had mistaken the boy’s sadness for coldness. In time, Rin had seemed to have gotten him to open up a little. Kohaku appeared fond and protective of Rin, and Jaken could appreciate that. But that was not reason enough to care for his life.
Suddenly Jaken is snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of a twig being thrown into the campfire. Kohaku finished the remainder of fish and discarded the stick it was speared upon. The boy looks up at Jaken, trying to suppress a yawn, and rolls over on the ground.
“Good night, Master Jaken,” he says softly, closing his eyes, and soon his breathing becomes even and Jaken can tell he is fast asleep.
He doesn’t speak often, but Kohaku has a voice. And he whenever he uses it, he treats Jaken like a friend.
Jaken has never had many friends.
He isn’t about to lose one of the few he has.
The boy will not die.
“Good night, Kohaku,” Jaken says.