InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ In a Different Light ❯ Pride and Prejudice ( Chapter 3 )

In a Different Light

Chapter 3: Pride and Prejudice

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm back," Rin said.

He nodded his understanding, taking a moment to note her disheveled appearance-the tousled hair, the dried leaves clinging to her kimono, the slight sheen of sweat on her brow. He suppressed a smile as a brief image of the two of them rolling around together on the forest floor flashed before his eyes. Limbs entangled, breaths co-mingling, their intertwined scents lifted on a brisk, pre-winter wind.

As if sensing his thoughts, she looked away from him, affording him the opportunity to draw in a deep breath, hoping to catch wind of her unique scent, that single rose blossoming in the midday sun . . . But, instead, his senses were assaulted with something foreign, yet familiar. The stench of that human from the village.

"My lord seems distracted," she said softly. "Perhaps I should leave him to his thoughts."

"Stay."

She visibly flinched as her heart skipped a beat, doubtless due to the harshness of his tone.

It pained him to cause her such alarm, but he had to know the source of this scent. He knew it was from the boy-that filthy peasant from the village. But how and why? Casual contact between the two wouldn't have left such a lingering scent trail . . . But the distinctive odors of more intimate contact were noticeably, and thankfully, absent.

Rin hugged her shoulders as her heart rate slowly returned to normal. Looking at her standing there, shrouded in moonlight and shadow, her shoulders slumped, her head hung, in what he assumed to be, shame, he was more than willing to overlook this afternoon's past transgressions. She seemed to be suffering quite a deal, and he had no desire to add to her burdens. So, perhaps it was time to move on to more pleasant topics of conversation . . . Like his feelings for her, and his need to know that she is safe and well-cared for. His need to keep her happy and healthy. His need to keep her close to him. His need to. . .

She glanced over at him just as the wind picked up, and his nose was again attacked by the foreign fragrance of that filthy farm boy . . . that meddling male . . . that hedonistic human, who in the space of a day had placed his paws all over his Rin, leaving her saturated in his scent when he, her lord and protector, hadn't touched her since she was twelve!

"My lord?"

"You are late," he said smoothly.

"I'm sorry, my lord. It won't happen again." Her voice was shaky, her pulse quick.

"Was it not agreed that you would return by sundown?"

She fidgeted somewhat then nodded weakly.

"What kept you?"

She was slow to answer, but her heart continued to race. She refused to meet his gaze, and she tightened her grip on her shoulders.

The great lord took this to mean one thing-she was going to lie to him.

A slight frown worked its way between his brows. In ten years, she'd only thought of lying to him once . . . to protect the brother of that demon slayer on Mt. Hakurei. At that time, before she could answer his question either truthfully or deceitfully, Jakken had intervened, telling her how pointless it was to lie to her lord because he could always detect the truth beneath the deepest deceptions . . . A fact she seemed to be struggling against at this very moment.

"I expect an answer, Rin. An honest answer."

She swallowed hard.

At Mt. Hakurei, her will to obey her lord proved stronger than her will to protect the boy, who, at one point, had tried to kill her . . . He'd asked her if the boy was in the cave she'd just come out of. She'd glanced over her shoulder and stared down at the ground, but after further hesitation and Jakken's warning, she'd answered honestly and said "yes." Then she'd gone on to add to her explanation, hoping to better her lord's opinion of the boy and excuse him from his wrath . . .

He had excused that boy, seeing as how Rin was unharmed, and she had been truthful about their encounter. Plus, she was still a small child at the time . . . But this boy . . .

"I got held up in the village," she finally said.

Not a lie, Sesshomaru reasoned, but not the entire truth either. What is she hiding? And why is she hiding it?

She opened her mouth to speak again, but he cut her off.

"Before you say another word," he kept his voice calm, even, cool, "you should know that I saw you in the village today. You were speaking with one of the village . . . boys, and now his scent is all over you."

"I-I . . . I can explain, my lord."

"Then do so."

Her ankle began to throb. Her head began to spin. By the gods, he knows. She slapped herself mentally. Of course, he knows. You knew he would know. He always knows. You can't lie to him. You can't hide things from him . . . By the gods! All over you?

She sniffed the front of her kimono and scoffed to herself. As if your nose works the same way.

"I'm waiting, Rin."

She swallowed hard, then drew in a deep breath. "I know what you must be thinking, my lord."

"Do you?" he asked. "You presume to know what is on my mind?"

She chanced a glance over at him, then quickly looked away. "No, my lord. I don't presume to know, but . . ." He can smell him all over me? By the gods, you know what he's thinking. You know what he thinks you did . . . And how angry and disgusted he is with you . . . He took you into his home. He raised you to be a lady, and now look what you've done . . . You're a disgrace. You should be ashamed . . . Going to his hut like that. Asking him to hold you. Wrapping yourself around a complete stranger . . . What kind of lady does that?

No kind. No lady does that. You're not a lady at all . . . And your lord knows that, he knows what kind of whore you've turned into. Why do you think he sends you off and seals you away?

He doesn't want to be affected by your dirty blood . . . He hates humans as it is, and now you've given him the perfect reason to hate you, as well. But maybe . . .

"I'm sorry," she squeaked out. "I didn't mean for anything to happen. I was just hungry, and the food at the inn was horrible. And I didn't feel like going hunting. And I was hungry. And I only went with him because I was hungry."

His brow frowned. What was she saying? She didn't mean for anything to happen? Did something happen? Did he do something to her? Something she didn't want?

"What did he do after you went with him?"

"He didn't do anything," she swore. "It was completely innocent. It wasn't his fault."

"Fault?" he repeated. Fault implied guilt, blame.

"It wasn't his fault, my lord." She didn't want him going back to the village, breaking up his hut, ripping out his throat . . . Taro had been so nice to her. He'd been so nice, and she was being so horrible. "It was innocent, my lord. Nothing happened."

"If nothing happened, then why are you so upset? Why is your pulse racing? Why are you breathing so hard? Why can I smell the salt of your tears?"

She blotted the corners of her eyes with the sleeve of her kimono.

"If everything was so innocent, what harm is there in telling me about it?"

"Because it's private." Shameful, humiliating, demeaning.. "I don't want to tell you. It's none of your business."

He tried to hide the hurt her words caused him. None of his business . . . Since when had she stopped being part of his "business?" Since when did she want to keep things and hide things from him? Since when did she stop . . . trusting him?

While her lord sat stock still on the fallen stump, Rin took a moment to collect herself. She drew in a few deep breaths to slow her pulse and calm her nerves. She then wiped the tears from her eyes and straightened her spine. That wasn't too bad, she thought. I didn't embarrass myself too badly . . . And I avoided the whole Taro situation completely. So, I've managed to hang onto some degree of dignity. I haven't fallen too far in his opinion, I hope . . . And soon, this would all be forgotten, and things could return to, what qualified as, "normal."

She put on a smile and took another deep breath.

None of his business, he repeated silently to himself. She, now, considered herself none of his business, which meant only one thing-she did want to leave him. She wanted her own life, separate from his, hidden from him, far from him. And . . . she was smiling about it.

He could see her quite clearly out of the corner of his eyes, and she was smiling. She was happy that she could cause him such pain. She was happy about the worry and the trouble she'd caused him. She was happy that she no longer had to stay with him and was currently covered in another man's scent . . . A scent that she had no intention of explaining. A scent that . . .

"My lord?"

His claws again clenched into a fist, drawing blood from the palm of his hand.

"My lord, you're bleeding."

Stupid woman. Stupid simple, simpering female . . . He fought back the growl, threatening to work its way up from the back of his throat. Privacy. When had he ever denied her privacy? Did he enter her room without knocking? Did he spy on her as she bathed? Did he follow her wherever she went?

No!

He gave her space. He gave her privacy. He gave her anything and everything that she could've possibly wanted, and still she preferred those pathetic humans to him.

He scoffed to himself. But, of course, she would; she's one of them.

"My lord? Your hand . . ."

It was foolish to think she could have feelings for him. What did he really have to offer her? What did he know of human females and their needs?

The phantom pain in his left shoulder returned, stronger and more insistent than before. He cursed under his breath . . . Yes, that boy, that human was weak and worthless, and he smelled like dirt and sweat and rotting wood . . . But he had his Rin. He had Rin and two good arms to hold her with, two strong hands to protect her and provide for her.

"My lord, you're hurting yourself."

Surely, in battle, even thus impaired, he was the superior combatant . . . He could crush the human without even trying-slit his throat with the flick of a finger, snap his neck using only his third finger and thumb, crack his skull beneath his boot, break his back over his knee . . . There were many ways to rid the world of such weak, frail and obviously inferior creatures. There was no way a human could compete with a full-blooded demon in battle, and yet . . .

This . . . human, this weak and worthless male with his two good arms and his two strong hands had defeated him in the only war he cared about winning . . . The war for Rin's heart . . . And he'd used those two good arms and two strong hands to woo Rin away from him. So strong was the human's hold on her that she couldn't even tell him about it . . . It was private and none of his business.

And, truthfully, it wasn't any of his business. She wasn't his; he had no claims on her, but . . .

She grabbed his clenched fist and pressed it between her two palms. "Please, stop it, my lord. You're dripping blood all over the forest floor."

He glanced over to where she had been-outside the clearing, beneath the trees-and where she now was-kneeling down on the ground beside him. He didn't remember hearing her move. "Release my hand."

She shook her head. "Not until you unclench and stop dripping blood on the forest floor. Fresh blood attracts animals and the gods only know what else."

He raised an elegant eyebrow at her. "You seek to lecture me on the dangers of blood and the unwanted animals it can attract?"

Rin scoffed. "I would not presume to lecture my lord on any subject under the sun or the moon. I . . ." She knew getting this close to him was a bad idea, but he was hurting himself and...

"You what?" he asked.

"I don't want you to get hurt," she finally said.

After what she said, after what she did, she worries about his well-being. It was enough to make him laugh . . . as if he ever did such a thing.

"You're angry with me." She felt his claws dig deeper into his own hand, his blood coating her palms, as well.

"I am angry with myself."

"That's silly," she said. "You've done nothing wrong. If there's blame to be had, it's entirely mine."

His hand relaxed somewhat. "I don't believe that's an accurate depiction."

They sat in silence.

"Why did you come back?" he asked.

"Why wouldn't I come back?"

He looked down at her. "You . . . do not belong here," he finally said.

She felt her eyes water, her blood run cold. "You will . . . send me away, then?"

He was slow to answer. "I know not what to do with you."

She bit her lower lip and stifled a sob. "If my lord is still undecided, I beg that he not send me away."

Tears? He thought. She was so happy a moment ago, and now she weeps?

"I know I am a great burden to my lord, and my humanity brings shame upon his household but . . ." She tightened her grip on his fist. "Please, don't send me away."

He was silent.

"I do try not to be a bother. And I try to stay out from under foot. And I'm doing well in all my lessons . . . even in self-defense," she said. "So, I'm quite capable of protecting myself if my lord no longer wants the responsibility."

He forced himself not to respond to her tears, not to be swayed by her . . . pitiable display of emotion. She can't have it both ways, he told himself. She can either be his, or she can be theirs . . . but he would not share her. He would not sit home and worry while she wanders off and flaunts herself to every boy in the village . . . He was too good for that, and she should know better.

"Humans belong with humans," he said simply. "I'm sure they could better tend to your needs than I ever could."

She pulled her hands from his claws and covered her face. "The only thing I need is you!" Her shoulders shook with the force of her sobs; the salt of her tears assaulted his senses.

It was . . . sickening. "Stop this," he demanded.

"I went to Taro and I cried on his shoulder . . ." Her tears didn't stop; her face remained covered. "I was sad and I was lonely and I just wanted somebody to talk to."

"Stop this."

"He said he wanted to get married, but none of the girls' families would accept him because he was young and poor, and he didn't have a family. And I related to him because I don't have a family, but I found somebody to take me in. But he just wanted someone to love him and accept him, someone he could take care of and make happy . . . and I-and I just wanted the same thing, but I knew I couldn't have it, so it made me unhappy, and then I started crying."

"Rin. Stop this."

"And I couldn't stop. I really, really, really wanted to, but I just couldn't . . . There's just so much-Stuff! That's crowded around in my head. And I never talk about it, and I never say anything . . . And I-I try to forget it, I try to ignore it, I try to push it down and pretend it doesn't mean anything . . . But it hurts."

"Rin . . ."

"And I couldn't take the hurt any more! I couldn't push it down. I couldn't ignore it. I couldn't make it go away . . . So I just cried." She wiped the tears from her face, leaving a trail of his blood on her cheeks.

"Just stop now, Rin."

"I get so lonely sometimes," she continued. "This body is just so weird. It smells funny, and it looks funny. And it bleeds and it swells . . . And the mood swings and the cramping . . . And I have to watch out for men, and I have to watch out for you, and I have to watch out for myself . . . And it's just too much. It isn't fair," she wailed. "Why do I feel so isolated? Why do I feel like I'm being punished? Why do I have to seal myself away in my room, while everyone else gets to walk around free as they please? Why do I have to feel so dirty all the time? This-this is supposed to be natural, everybody keeps telling. But why do I keep feeling so unnatural?"

Despite the grief, uncertainty and guilt he felt roiling around in his chest, he kept his gaze even, his voice steady. "It is . . . part of human development, from what I'm told."

She sniffed back tears, wiping her nose with her sleeve. "Well, I hate it," she said. "I hate the way it makes me feel, and I hate the things it makes me do." She stifled several more sobs. "He made me feel . . . normal for awhile." She coughed into her hand, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I just wanted to feel normal, and forget about all the bad feelings and . . ."

She sighed loudly and pushed the hair back from her face. She'd already gone this far, so why not take it the rest of the way?

She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. "I just wanted somebody to hold me," she said. "Is it so wrong to want to be touched?"

He took it as a rhetorical question and didn't reply.

"Is it, my lord?"

He stared down into her flushed face and blood-shot eyes. "No," he said. "It is not wrong."

She continued to recover from her tear-filled tirade-blotting at her eyes, sniffing back mucous, taking deep gulps of air. "I do apologize, my lord. I know how you hate . . ." Her hands went again to her face, and she began to cry anew.

Dear gods, make her stop. How long do you expect me to sit here and take this? She clearly thinks I am the cause of her misery, so how can I make her stop?

"I've wronged you, and I'm sorry."

Weak and whimpering humans . . . How can she stand to do this? How can I stand to watch it?

"Please, don't send me away," she said. "I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't see you."

He remained rational, logical. He would not stoop to blubbering and begging. "You hide yourself from me at every given chance."

"I do not!"

"You do. The moment I enter a room, you leave it."

She bit her lower lip, stifling her sobs. So, it's come to this, she thought. I have to spell out every little detail for him . . . It's not bad enough that I'm crying at his feet, now I have to parade my fantasies in front of his face.

"So you've stopped," he said. "Good."

She drew in a few deep breaths and pushed them out. "If I hide myself from you, my lord, it is not my unwillingness to be near you . . . though, to a degree, I suppose you could say it is, but . . ."

"But what?"

She raised her head to him, but kept her eyes closed. Just take a deep breath and do it. One look from his is all you need, and you can already feel him staring . . . She wet her lower lip and opened her eyes.

"By the gods," she muttered beneath her breath.

"What?"

She shook her head, but didn't break eye contact, a slight smile playing across her lips.

He narrowed his gaze and focused in on her. What was she doing? What was she thinking?

So golden and beautiful. So breath-taking and serene. So . . . seductive . . .

She felt a slight itch between her thighs, so she shifted her position to help relieve it, her smile growing, her temperature rising. It was easy to imagine her lord using just that look, just that gaze, to lure some unknowing virgin into his bed chambers.

Is that . . . lust burning in the back of her eyes?

She could feel her face going flush, but she didn't, couldn't look away. She wanted more of his eyes upon her. See into me, through me, she thought. Bathe me in the amber glow of your eyes, my lord. Anything you see, you may take.

He fought back an inward smile, taking a perfunctory sniff of the air between them. He could tell just by looking at her, but now he could smell it. She was . . . aroused.

"Is this why you avoid me?" he asked.

"I do not wish to embarrass myself," she said.

"Embarrass?" he repeated. "You find this embarrassing?"

"It is when you know nothing will ever come of these feelings," she said. "When you're a thirteen-year-old girl, sitting by the fire, staring at your lord, watching as the flames dance over his face . . . And then he turns to you and tells you to go to bed, but make sure you take a bath first . . . because you smell and it is disturbing."

He watched as tears once again began to fill her brown eyes. "You were too young, then. You were still a child."

She scoffed. "And you think I didn't know that?"

"Then why are you complaining?"

"Because!" she screamed. "By the gods, haven't you been listening to a word I've said?"

He looked away from her, then nodded. "I made you feel . . . dirty."

"Yes!"

While she seemed to find comfort in his words, he found no such solace. He made her feel dirty. With a look, a few poorly-chosen words . . . So, how would she feel if he actually touched her?

He mentally shook his head. He didn't want to know. "It's getting late," he said. "You should go to bed."

"My lord, I--"

"I will not send you away," he continued. "You may come and go as you please. I have no claims on you."

A wave of relief washed over her, so intense, so satisfying, she had to laugh. She had to giggle. She had to smile to show her appreciation . . . He would not send her away. But that last part left her lacking . . . "My lord?"

He sighed irritably and glanced down at her. "What is it, Rin?"

"May I see your hand?"

He held it open in front of her face. "It is fine. You know how quickly I heal."

She nodded, then shifted her weight to her left foot. Her right ankle was still sore, and she'd been sitting on it the entire time. She glanced down at her wrapped ankle and stroked it. Perhaps, since she'd managed to overcome her little "hormone" problem, her lord could help her back to the campsite.

"Rin?"

She glanced up at him. "What is it, my lord?"

"Why did you really go off with that boy? Why not one of the other . . . villagers?"

She shrugged. "They didn't ask me to. The other villagers weren't interested; he was."

He nodded his understanding. "I see. So you chose him because he chose you first."

"Well, I didn't really choose him. I just . . ."

"You went with him," he said. "Assuming that he did not force you, that implies choice."

She swallowed hard. "Is my lord still . . . angry?"

"No," he said simply. How could he be angry with such a pleasant fragrance still hanging in the air? Milk, honey and a single, blossoming rose . . . Purity, innocence and musk. An intoxicating combination. And he was not unaffected. He was . . . agitated, but it had nothing to do with anger.

He adjusted himself beneath his armor.

Rin looked on with doubting eyes. She seemed convinced that he was fully prepared to toss her aside and feed her to the wolves, so to speak.

"No, Rin, I am not angry. I am . . . interested."

She chuckled lightly and glanced around the clearing, though he doubted she could see much in the deep shadows and dwindling moonlight. "I see nothing particularly interesting in this clearing, my lord."

He allowed a thin smile to grace his lips. "Perhaps if you had my eyes," he said.

"Oh?" she said. "And what does my lord see that he finds so interesting?"

"You, of course."

She let loose a loud laugh, then covered her mouth with both of her hands. "My lord jokes," she said quickly, then shook her head. "My lord does not joke. Ever."

He gave his head a slight shake, keeping his eyes on the kneeling figure before him. "No," he said softly. "Your lord does not joke. Ever."

She chuckled uneasily, then formed a diminutive posture-tucking her head into her chest, hugging her shoulders and staring down at the forest floor.

"Does this news trouble you?" he asked. "That I intend to court you?"

Her heart skipped a beat. The scent of her arousal intensified. "Not at all," she choked out.

"Good," he nodded. "And I would like you to stop using my title."

She raised her head. "My lord?"

"That," he said. "You may call me by my given name."

It seemed odd to him that she should turn so red at the thought of calling him by his given name . . . especially considering the nature of other things they'd discussed that evening.

"Is this agreeable?" he asked.

She nodded briskly, finally meeting his gaze. "Yes, my lo-Se-Sesshomaru." It sounded so foreign coming off her tongue, but . . .

He nodded and smiled his approval. "Now, tell me what you did to your ankle."