InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Once Upon an Inuyoukai ❯ Taichou! ( Chapter 16 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

A/N- sorry for the delay in updates. Homework got in the way. This is a long chapter, to make up for it- four thousand words. Merry Christmas.

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Taichou!

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Everything was falling apart around her. For a bright, eternal second, she'd thought that maybe, maybe this time everything would be all right at last. She'd fallen into him as though she'd never left, and the tilted world had corrected itself on its skewed axis back to true. His arms around her had felt like coming home, and all was beautiful and perfect. For one second.

And then, he'd spotted Inutaisho-- half-cloaked in shadow, yellow eyes gleaming. And the world was thrown sickeningly off-kilter again, and this time it was a thousand times worse for the return of memory. She now remembered what it was like to be happy, and so when he abruptly tore himself away from her it hurt far, far more than it had before.

“Mononoke,” Takemaru hissed, beautiful face twisted with red hatred. His hand, white-knuckled and shaking with fury, seized the hilt of his sword and was halfway through drawing when Inutaisho moved.

She closed her eyes, convinced she'd died and fallen into Hell. Inutaisho would kill him, and her world would truly fall to pieces, in an non-mendable and decidedly agonizing way. It was over, the brief flash of happiness. Misery was back, to stay.

Inutaisho's form blurred and vanished from the corner. Takemaru's eyes snapped wide in shock and flitted around the room, searching for the hated demon. Clank. He froze, then looked slowly down at the gleaming, half-melted section of blade on the floor. There was a slow hiss as the bottom third of his sword slid back into the scabbard, and the hilt dropped from his nerveless fingers.

“You are something to Izayoi,” Inutaisho's utterly flat voice said from, unexpectedly, behind Takemaru. The samurai's forehead broke out in a cold sweat. “That is why you are alive. The only reason.”

The shoji slid open and closed, and Inutaisho was gone. Takemaru stared straight ahead, trembling with shock.

Izayoi fell helplessly to her knees, dropped her head to the cool floor, and poured her entire being into thanks to the kami that were watching over her. No one was dead. Takemaru was not dead. The gods were alive and listening.

By all rights, Inutaisho should have killed him. He'd drawn a sword on him, without provocation, with obvious intent to kill. It would have been self-defense, and no one would have argued even had they wanted to. The sheer folly of it! Drawing on a taiyoukai, strongest of the strong! She wondered if he understood how lucky he was to be alive.

Probably not.

And then, after gratitude and relief... anger, the likes of which she'd never known before. It seized her and made of her gentle flesh something fell and fearful. She stood, fists clenched at her sides, and stalked over to Takemaru. He did not seem to see her, staring vacantly off into spaces, pupils contracted. She sucked in a deep breath, drew back, and slapped him with all her archer's strength. He staggered, fell, and caught himself on his hands.

“Idiot!” she screamed, incandescent with fury. “Baka mono! Baka! Bakabakabakabakabaka! Fool! Thrice-cursed son of a maggot!”

“Iza...yoi...” he whispered, not understanding, which only made her angrier.

“Don't you understand? He might have killed you. He might even have been right to do so! What gave you the right to walk around threatening my allies? Well?”

That got his attention. His head snapped up and his eyes assaulted hers, cold and alien. “Ally?” he asked softly. “You would contaminate yourself by consorting with such filth?”

Her eyes bugged. If she got any angrier, she thought she'd burst along the seams and splatter all over the room. It was a live thing, a ravening monster that wanted to rend and tear and batter. “Filth?” she shrieked, and slapped him again, even harder. Her hand burst into stars of white pain, but she paid it no mind. “You've only just met him! How dare you presume to judge? How dare you?”

“I don't need to know him,” he growled irritably, comforting his swollen jaw. “He is mononoke. That is all I need to know.”

She stared at him in disbelief at his narrow-mindedness. “He saved your life,” she whispered. “Saved my life. Saved the lives of the children. He journeys now to save thousands more. On what authority do you judge him?”

“You take his side?” he asked, incredulous. “Him, youkai filth?”

It was the wrong thing to say, and he seemed to realize it a split second too late. The words had already left his lips. The next blow was the hardest yet, and dealt with a closed fist. She felt the bones grate beneath her knuckles when she connected with his cheek. “I am not taking 'sides'!” she howled. “I am attempting to demonstrate to you how much of an idiot you're being! Inutaisho is a good man. I don't know what you think gives you the right to waltz in and draw your sword on him without even a courteous 'hello', but it it not acceptable! Try it again, and I'll kill you myself!”

He lowered his dark head, hair falling to shadow his eyes. “I see. So that is how it is.” Without saying another word, he unfolded to his feet-- slightly unsteady-- and walked out. Her eyes burned tearfully into his stiff retreating back.

“Idiot,” she whispered brokenly. So. She'd managed to chase him away again. In the depths of her heart, she wondered if she'd ever see him again, and thought it likely that she wouldn't. Her eyes burned with suppressed tears.

Stretching out on the floor, she pressed her cheek to the cool tatamis and tried not to think about it. In a few minutes, she'd get up and go find Inutaisho. She'd apologize, and hope for his forgiveness. And then the journey would continue as though six years ago had really been the last she'd seen of her beautiful, dark-eyed warrior.

“Takemaru,” she wept into the floor, mourning the almost-happiness she'd so briefly glimpsed. Her legs curled into her chest and she began to cry in earnest, tears dripping silverwarm into her hair.

In all honesty, she was perfectly set up for a really good pity party, something she hadn't had in quite a long while now. The universe, however, had other plans.

There was a knock at the shoji. She stiffened, remembering the last such knock. It wasn't him, she could tell that much. It was more aloof, authoritative and strong. Inutaisho would not knock. This was a stranger.

For the second time within an hour, she pulled her tear-riven self together and got ready to deal with the world again. “Come in.”

The shoji slid open and the stranger walked in.

He was a samurai, that much was blindingly obvious. His uniform was identical to Takemaru's, but all resemblance ended there.

He was tall. That was the first thing that struck her. His head was scant inches from the roof, and he had to duck to enter. He had at least a good two inches even on Inutaisho, who was tall for a demon. His hair was shimmering black and long, brushing the middle of his back. And his eyes, when she met them, were warm brown like almonds. The sword that swung at his hip looked a part of him, just an extra limb.

“Hello!” he boomed jovially, smiling down at her.

“Ano...” she began, unsure what to make of this stranger who towered over her and smiled so beautifully.

“Your name is Kasurami Izayoi, correct?” he interrupted.

She nodded mutely.

“Good. I am Yamaguchi Katsuro. Hajime mashita, pleased to make your acquaintance”

“Likewise,” she replied dreamily, caught off guard. “Er...”

“You're smaller than you looked up on that stand,” he commented, seemingly oblivious to her current state of mental disarray.

“Um...”

“Where does this demon lord live? My men are ready to go, Izayoi-hime.”

“Hime? Princess? Since when?”

He looked at her, baffled. “You're not a princess?”

“No!”

He stroked his clean-shaven chin thoughtfully. “Hmm. That won't do at all. Well! From now on, you are Izayoi-hime. To my men, at least.”

“What? I don't... please, what are you talking about?”

“We're marching to war, aren't we? With you at the head! It wouldn't be right to follow anyone but royalty, and if you're not... well, you'll just have to be for now. My men won't follow a commoner.”

“Your... men?” she whispered faintly.

“Of course! Didn't I tell you? Yamaguchi-taichou, of the free army of the South. I will follow you to avenge the deaths of my friends on Shikoku. But you've got to start looking a little more inspiring, else morale will plummet.”

“Yamaguchi... taichou? Captain? Free army? What?”

He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “I am Yamaguchi Katsuro, leader of a great army of displaced samurai and bounty hunters. The Free Army! We fight for no lord, only to protect the weak! We will follow you to the stronghold of this... Ryuunomei... and defeat him, in the name of our friends who have perished! Is this clear enough?”

For a long moment, she only stared at him, dumbstruck. Of all the pretentious, overblown...

“Er! Yes! Thank you! Um, welcome? Thank you?”

He beamed at her, and dropped gracefully to one knee. Even so bent, he was nearly as tall as her. “Glad to be of service, my lady princess.” He stood and bowed formally, hands pressed together. “Where to next?”

“We haven't really decided yet...”

“Tch! So disorganized! With your permission, I can handle this. Recruiting is my specialty!”

Does that mean no more speeches? Done!

“Um, sure?”

“Good!” He paused, and looked around as though searching for something he'd dropped. “Have you seen Setsuna-tai? I could have sworn he went ahead to say hello to you.”

She went rigid. So this was Takemaru's superior. She'd heard a while ago that his lord had died heirless, leaving him adrift, and that he'd found employment in the south under a renegade warrior of great renown. It seemed she'd just met the 'renowned warrior.' “He left,” she whispered, and though she tried not to let the pain leak into her voice, she knew the instant the words hit the air that she'd failed miserably.

He sighed and crossed his arms, the very image of a long-suffering parent. If she hadn't been hurting so badly, it might have been funny. “What's my errant underling done now?” he muttered to himself. “I swear, if that boy wasn't so damn good with a sword, I'd have smacked him one good by now.”

She laughed helplessly. “He came. Then he... did something stupid, and left.”

He arched an eyebrow.

“Left... after I beat the tar out of him,” she admitted, to his uproarious laughter.

A moment later, she was caught off guard as he swept her into a bone-crushing hug. “I like you, Izayoi-hime! I think we'll get along just fine.” He released her, and she gratefully sucked in a great lungful of air.

Ouch.

“Well then!” he exclaimed brightly. “Shall we go find the little idiot?” Turning a smart about-face, he made as if to leave.

“Wait!” she cried.

“Yes, hime-sama?”

“Stop calling me that. If you're going to be traveling with me, there's a few people you should meet.”

“I thought so!” he boomed.

“What?”

“I didn't think you would be traveling by yourself. I think I understand what happened, now.”

“You do?” she echoed, confounded. He moved so quickly, she was hard-pressed to keep up!

“Oh, yes. Let me guess... Setsuna, the little idiot, showed up here all glad to see you. I'm willing to bet my right arm that one of your companions was here with you when he showed up, and my other one that it was a demon. Am I right so far?”

She nodded, speechless.

“Then, Setsuna flew off the handle and tried to dice your companion into little pieces. Since you made no indication that he's dead, and neither do you seem upset about a companion's death, so I'm assuming your demon held back and left him alive. Then, you tore up one side of him and down the other for assaulting one of your allies. How am I doing?”

“Were you hiding in a closet, or what?” she asked dizzily. “Exactly right.”

“Hmm. Not surprising. Setsuna holds a deep hatred for all demons, and I suppose I can understand it even if it is narrow-minded and completely unjust. You see, when I picked him up three years ago, he was lounging around a forest still covered in the blood of his family. He'd been visiting them when a marauding horde came through and annihilated the village. He escaped, but was unable to save anyone. Since then, he's decided that all demons are evil and deserve to die, irrespective of the truth.”

She was silent for a long time, absorbing that and sorrowing deeply. She only faintly remembered his family, but what memories she had were warm and positive. All dead, before his very eyes. “I guess I can understand, too, then. But Inutaisho is not evil, and they'd only just met. I was very angry at his hostility. Inutaisho could have killed him in an eyeblink, but he pulled his sword anyways. I thought he was being stupid,” she finished regretfully.

Katsuro clapped her on the shoulder. “He was, don't feel bad about it. Not all demons are scum, most thinking people are smart enough to realize that. It's not your fault he's an idiot, and I'm quite impressed that you were courageous enough to put him straight. You're so small, I would've thought yelling at a bloody great warrior would not seem wise.”

She blushed. “We've been friends since we were children. I was not afraid of that.”

He chuckled warmly. “I see. Well, then. I'll go find Setsuna-tai and you go find your demon. I'll meet you on the outskirts of town, at the gate. Ja na!” He waved cheerily, and when she blinked he was gone.

Interesting character, she mused. I wonder where Inutaisho went?

She spread her mind's wings open and felt around for the dog demon.

He was not hard to locate.

“Interesting character,” he commented as he stepped back into the room from the other door.

Her cheeks flushed instantly scarlet, and her face burned. “You were listening.”

“Mmm.”

“Oh, kami,” she muttered.

“I must say, I was rather touched at your display of loyalty. And was rather glad not to be on the receiving end.”

“Oh, kami!” she repeated desperately, wishing they would hear her and let her sink into the floor and vanish forever.

“I did not know you had such a temper.”

Damn him to the deepest, slimy ditch of Hell, he was amused. Amused!

“He had it coming,” she snapped. “Are you coming?”

“Oh, I'm not arguing that. And yes, I am coming. We had better rescue him, he's headed in the wrong direction to find the boy.”

“Good,” she barked, and stalked off.

Behind her, Inutaisho did not move for a few moments. “Thank you,” he said quietly to her back. Despite his earlier ribbing, he truly had been touched by her fiery defense of his honor. What did I do to deserve such a faithful ally?

“Are you coming, or not?”

Her voice jolted him back into motion. He used his demon speed to slip past her into the hallway ahead. She was still looking behind her at the open door of the room. “What are you talking about? Have you lost your imaginary friend?”

She snapped around and was good enough to wear a look of startlement when she found him in the hallway when she'd seen him just a second ago in the room behind her.

“Someday, you have to teach me how to do that.”

“If you behave.”
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Night had flown overhead, trailing its star-studded cloak, and the woods were dark. They sat in a circle around a campfire, warding off the chill of autumn as best as they could. The eight of them, and Ah-Un, who did not count.

“Well, you certainly are an odd bunch,” Katsuro said. “Two taiyoukai, a priestess, two lower level demons, and a seer. Very curious. You'll have to tell me how this came about.”

“Long story,” Naruka answered gravely. “But we will tell you as we travel, of course. May I say...” she hesitated, eyes averted, “that your help is greatly appreciated?” She wrung her hands and lowered her head.

Is it my imagination, Izayoi thought with fascination, or is she blushing?

The general did not seem to notice her discomfiture, only beamed at her. “Of course! I am flattered by your thanks, my lady miko. I look forward to traveling with you all. I can see that it will be an interesting trip.”

“You can say that again,” Sakenmaru dryly remarked to no one in particular.

“So... with your permission, I will begin recruiting immediately. I have contacts all over the country who I'm fairly certain will be willing to help, once they hear of the situation. Isn't it strange that no one had any idea that all this was happening in the north!”

“Not really strange, no,” Naruka answered again. “This is demon business, us humans would not likely get word of it until we're right in the thick of it.”

“Hmm, I suppose you're right. In any case, we know now and we're not going to let it go on without resistance. Demon or no, nobody gets away with slaughtering my people.” The tone of his voice made it clear that by 'his people,' he meant all of humanity, not just the southerners.

He seems to like saying heroic things like that. She found it endearing, somehow, his blustering enthusiasm. When she looked deeper, she could see it for what it really was- a facade, that invariably caused people to underestimate him. She had a suspicion that once it got into a battle situation, he would be deadly serious, and had a brief vision of his face hard and uncompromising, splattered with enemy blood. Eyes glinting in the red steel-light of battle. It was frightening, and Izayoi thanked the gods that he was on their side rather than against them.

“Well then! Enough of all this glumness!” he cried, startling them. “It has come to my attention...” he paused, presumably for dramatic effect, “that you are all a group of unfairly beautiful people.”

Inutaisho snorted and cocked an eye at Jaken, who was gazing in adoration at the tall human.

“Excepting the toad, and the lizard,” he hastily corrected. Jaken's face crumpled.

“Dragon,” Izayoi corrected automatically. “Ah-Un is a type of dragon youkai, not a lizard.”

“I stand... er, sit... corrected, hime-sama.”

“Don't call me that.”

“I'll have you know that among my people, I am considered very attractive!” Jaken wailed.

“Unfortunately, your people are all a very long ways away from here,” Inutaisho reminded him.

“You do not find my countenance pleasing? My lord!” Great silvery tears poured down the bubbled, lumpy green face of the toad.

“No,” Inutaisho replied indifferently.

“My lord!” he wailed, and fled the camp noisily blowing his nose. For a few blessed seconds, there was silence but for the crackling of the fire.

“There is somewhere I need to go,” Inutaisho blurted then, completely without warning. “It would be fastest if I went alone. I should be back by morning.” With that, he stood and made as if to fly off.

Thrown off balance by his sudden announcement, she stuttered for a second before finding her voice. “Inutaisho!” she cried.

He paused and looked back over his shoulder.

“Er.”

His eyebrow raised inquiringly.

She squared her shoulders. “Go safely, and come safely,” she said, her traditional family travel blessing. His eyes widened, just a fraction, and he nodded. A white blur, and then he was gone.

“I wonder where he's going?” she asked the wind softly.

“I don't know,” Sakenmaru said, and was echoed by Naruka and the general.

Jaken, who could have told them, was sulking in the woods and heard nothing.

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The mountain looked as fierce as it ever had, snowless even at its great craggy peak, kept free of ice by the inferno in its heart. The land around it was cracked and dead. About halfway up was the cave, and Inutaisho made for that. There was a thin trail of smoke curling out of the black maw, a telltale sign that the person he'd come to see was home. Not that he would ever be anywhere else.

Good.

He landed lightly on the ledge protruding from the forbidding black mountainside, and walked in without calling. The old man would know he was here, he knew. Knocking was pointless.

He was not disappointed. “Youngster!” a dry, whipcord voice cried out of the redlit depths of the cave. “Long time, no see!”

“Totosai,” Inutaisho replied respectfully.

“Inutaisho-samaaaahhh!” another voice cried joyously.

“Myouga-jiji!” He was surprised. That the flea demon had taken up residence here was not something he'd known. The minuscule demon was older even that him, as was the ancient swordsmith, who was, by the sounds of it, currently beating the living hell out of some poor, innocent lump of metal.

He waited patiently.

A few minutes later, the bug-eyed firebreathing old man tottered out of the smoky inferno of his forge, dusting his hands on his tattered kimono. “Well now! To what fortuitous occasion do I owe this great pleasure?”

Inutaisho did not mince words. “Where are they? I need them.”

“Tch, not even staying for tea? How rude of you,” the elderly demon cackled.

“Totosai...” Inutaisho growled warningly. He was fond of the old blacksmith, but now was not the time for banter. If he was to be back by dawn, there was no time to waste.

“Hai, hai! I'm going! Hang on just a minute. Youth these days, so impatient.”

It was an exaggeration- Totosai was only a few hundred years older than Inutaisho, but he exploited that small difference ruthlessly whenever he had the chance. Little delighted him more in the wide world than Inutaisho's irritated reaction whenever Totosai reminded him of his seniority.

Inutaisho tapped his fingers impatiently on his arm. It was a long flight, and since he wanted to be back with his companions by dawn, the faster he got what he came for, the better. The doddering old man was holding him up.

Long minutes passed.

“What did you do, forget which pool of lava you dropped it in?” he growled when Totosai finally returned.

“Old joints, don't move like they used to,” Totosai half-apologized in an offhand manner. “Here you are. Hope you're not planning anything stupid.”

Inutaisho snatched the bundles out of Totosai's arms. “Many thanks. I will be back to return them to your care when this is all over.”

“Don't you dare put a scratch on either of them! They're my finest work! Speaking of which, when are you going to commission the last one?”

“When I decide what its purpose is. Do not push me.”

Totosai withdrew hurriedly, arms flailing. “Wouldn't dream of it, my lord. I trust you to come to me with it when you've decided. I look forward to forging it.”

Inutaisho did not reply to that, instead pulling off the deep black cloth covering the two long packages.

They were swords, and very beautiful swords at that, crafted from the hard substance of his own fangs. He brushed his hands lovingly over them. “Tenseiga,” he murmured, touching the plainer one, and “Sou'unga,” when his fingers alighted on the powerful longsword with its bulbous pommel set with a nameless red stone. “It has been a very long time.”

The swords were legendary. Tenseiga, the sword of heaven, was said to be able to save a hundred people in one swing. He'd never tried it, not even on Mai. Altering the determinations of fate was not a thing to be toyed with lightly. It had been Mai's time, he had known that even in the depths of grief. But it might be useful in the war ahead. He would pay whatever price was required if it meant winning this.

And Sou'unga, sword of Hell. Said to be able to slay a hundred at one blow. Its dead became moldering undead, slave to the wielder's will. It was a hideous thing, and he hated using it. Even now, it pulsed eagerly in his hand, anticipating blood to slake its ravening thirst.

Someday, he would commission the last sword of the trio, the sword of earth. He already knew its name, but not what power it should have. Tenseiga, he had commissioned for his son, to teach him compassion. Possibly a futile exercise, but Inutaisho hoped nonetheless. Sou'unga, for himself- to defeat his age old enemy. It was more than fitting, calling on it now. This was what it had been born for. It sang for Ryuunomei's blood, and he did not intend to deny it.

He turned to leave. “I will return, Totosai. Perhaps by then I will know what the last sword is for.”

“I sincerely hope so, my lord. I am not getting any younger.”

“So I have noticed.”

“Impudent boy!”

Inutaisho smiled, nodded his head, and vanished into the starlit night.

“Be careful, boy,” Totosai muttered behind him, unheard. “Don't die.”

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A/N- Well, there you go. I know in Chapter VIII I already had him wearing the swords, but I've gone back and fixed that. It was a slip. For those of you who were wondering where Totosai and Myouga were, here they are. We haven't seen the last of them.

Let me know what you think of Katsuro! I'm rather fond of him, myself. Endearing fellow, very easy to write.

Til next time! -Empatheia