InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 4: Justification ❯ New Beginnings ( Chapter 4 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Gin hurried down the hallway, trying not to run as she mumbled under her breath and checked her watch again.

She'd overslept.  Her first night in her new apartment, and she'd overslept.

Face contorting in a grimace, Gin rushed toward the classroom, hoping once more that no one had seen her traversing Tokyo's skyline.  Her father would have a fit if she'd been spotted, never mind her brothers and InuYasha did it all the time . . .

'It's entirely hypocritical,' she thought as her frown deepened.  'Ryo-nii and Kichiro-nii-chan were terrible—horrible—and I'm the one who ends up under constant surveillance . . .'

She sighed as she slipped into the classroom just seconds before the wall clock marked time for class to start as students hurried to their worktables.  Hoping that they'd gotten a suitable substitute professor, she dropped her bag onto the table and busied herself in pulling out her sketchbook and pencils as the students fell silent.

"Morning.  I'm Zelig Cain, and I'll be teaching this class for the rest of the semester."

Gin's mind slowed to a crawl at the sound of the American's voice.  The five sketching pencils she had in her hand flew out of her grip as if they were covered in grease just as the tablet she'd been holding to her chest slipped.  They hit the floor with a dull thump followed by her bag that she managed to send flying when she whipped around to retrieve her pencils.  Stifling a groan and wishing the floor would open up and swallow her, Gin felt her cheeks erupt in white-hot flames as she fumbled around for the items she'd dropped.

"Problems, Izayoi-san?"

Stifling a groan as Zelig-sensei closed in on her, Gin hurriedly grabbed the pencils in her reach and left the others as she shot to her feet—and straight into his chin since he was bending down to help her.  "Oh, kami, I'm so sorry," she gasped, hands flying to cover her mouth as the items she'd just retrieved flew out of her arms once more.

Zelig-sensei winced and rubbed his chin then shook his head and slowly started to bend down again.  When Gin moved to do the same, his hand shot up to stop her.  She could feel the already painful flush darken as her classmates erupted in giggles and twitters around her.

"Thank you," she blurted as he stood up slowly and plopped her things onto the worktable.  He smiled tightly and nodded once before turning on his heel and stalking back to the front of the room.

'I am such a baka!' she moaned as she sank onto the stool behind her.

'Look at it this way,' a little voice reasoned in her head, 'at least you can't embarrass yourself much worse, now can you?'

She scowled as she flopped open the sketch pad and tried to concentrate on the still-life sketch of a bowl of fruit.   If there was one thing that she had learned from her father, it was this: things could always be worse.

She sighed and tapped the end of her pencil against her chin as she pretended to scrutinize the sketch.

'Sure,' she thought dully as she darkened the outline of a perfect apple.  'Next time I could break the poor guy's nose or something.  Maybe I should have stayed in bed today . . .'

He was her teacher.

Gin shook her head slowly as she tried to grasp the implications of it.  Zelig Cain was such a prominent member of the artistic community that despite his reclusive tendencies, he was regularly named on the most influential artisans list, and that he was here in her classroom filling in for their normal teacher for the entire semester . . .

The butterfly brigade took hold of her stomach as Gin tried to concentrate on her sketch.  Zelig-sensei's presence seemed to penetrate the room.  As though his youki was a palpable thing, Gin felt the strong current glide over hers with a gentle strength that soothed her as much as it enticed her.

Peeking up through her thick fringe of silvery hair, Gin swallowed hard as she realized that he was staring at her, his darkened eyes narrowed thoughtfully.  Biting her lower lip as she forced her gaze away from him, Gin's brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to force her attention back to her still-life sketch.

'He's got such presence, such stature . . .'

With a sigh, Gin set her pencil down and grabbed the kneaded eraser to undo the slightly lopsided contour of the orange she'd drawn.  Though normally very meticulous with her work, she couldn't help but worry that the simple assignment wouldn't be quite up to scratch in Zelig-sensei's eyes.

'He's fascinating, really.  I wonder if he avoids attention to perpetuate his legend . . .'

Wrinkling her nose at her thoughts, Gin dropped the eraser and groped around for the pencil as she plotted the contour of the fruit.  She hated sketching inanimate objects.  It seemed so pointless, so flat.  She understood the point of the exercises.  They were designed to hone the fundamental skills of perspective, proportion, and shading.  That didn't make them more enjoyable.  She sighed.

'He can't need this job,' she reasoned as she arced the pencil over the rough paper.  'He's rich . . . probably as rich as Sesshoumaru-oji-san, if not richer . . .'

Not that it really mattered; money didn't make anyone happy.  It simply made the question of why Zelig-sensei had taken the position at the university that much more intriguing.  Why would a man who shied away from the limelight for so long and with such tenacity suddenly decide that he wanted to take a low-level job at a public university when the press was going to notice him sooner or later?  

'Why is he here?  He said he was going back home, to the United States, didn't he?'

She smiled just a little as she flipped to the next page in her sketchpad and started drawing.  'Does it matter why he's here?  I could learn so much from him . . . if he'll teach me . . .'

No, it didn't really matter, she supposed.  Zelig-sensei's work was brilliant, and he was going to be her professor.


Bellaniece sashayed into the opulent office and straightened the straps of the sleeveless pink dress before squaring her shoulders and striding purposefully toward the receptionist's desk.  "Hi, I'm Bellaniece . . . I'm supposed to start work today."

The older woman behind the desk glanced up at her before offering her a tepid smile.  "Izayoi-sensei said he'd found another secretary.  Can you type?"

Bellaniece started to state that she could, of course.  Her conscience pricked her before she could give voice to the lie.  "Uh . . . no."

The woman's smile dropped a few degrees.  "So you can't do billing.  Can you file?"

"File?" Bellaniece echoed with a shake of her head.

"Answer the phone?"

"I could do that!" Bellaniece replied, the relief in her voice too thick to hide.

The receptionist slowly shook her head.  "Most will be calling to make or reschedule appointments.  Can you do that?"

"I . . . I think so . . ."

With a heavy sigh, the woman sat back and stared at Bellaniece incredulously.  "Why don't you tell me what you can do?"

Wincing at the woman's cold demeanor, Bellaniece straightened her back proudly and lifted her chin.  "I might not know how to do these things, but I can learn."

The woman wasn't impressed.  Standing up with a heavy sigh, she stomped over to the coffee machine and took her time pouring a cup while muttering under her breath about useless girls and Izayoi-sensei's penchant for collecting pretty things.  Bellaniece felt her cheeks explode with indignant color, and she had to grit her teeth to keep from responding to the derogatory assessment in kind since she was obviously not meant to hear it.  If the woman knew that she worked for an inu-hanyou, Bellaniece didn't know, but in case the human did not, she wasn't about to let the cat out of the bag.

After deliberately making Bellaniece wait while she finished preparing her coffee and without bothering to offer Bellaniece a cup—not that she'd want any of the foul-smelling concoction—the woman finally turned to face her again, her tolerant smile back in place.  "Look, we are very busy in this office.  I don't really have time to train you in basic things that any secretary needs to know.  Whatever you learn here will have to be picked up as you go.  Are you sure you want to work here?"

"I'm a fast study," Bellaniece said smoothly despite her rising indignation.  "Don't worry about me.  I need this job."

The woman's eyes took in Bellaniece's dress and bearing.  Finally she shrugged and returned to her desk.  "I'll ask Izayoi-sensei what he wants you to do— If he decides to come in today."

"He doesn't come in every day?"

"He's supposed to come in every day.  Izayoi-sensei will miss his own funeral one day, mark my words."

Bellaniece smiled cautiously, unsure why her listening to the complaints about Kichiro seemed to make the woman friendlier.  "You speak English well," Bellaniece ventured.

"My name's Mai.  My husband is from New York."

"I'm from Maine."

Mai's smile warmed.  "Beautiful country up there."

"Yeah, it is," Bellaniece agreed.

"We honeymooned there at a little bed and breakfast on the ocean."

Bellaniece's smile widened.  Her father's home was also on the ocean, and there were times she missed it viciously.  Maybe she'd inherited a bit of her father's reclusive behavior, or maybe it was something she'd grown to appreciate.  There was a simplicity in it that appealed to her.  In that place was the freedom to be herself, to leave all the false façades on the shelf.  She shook her head.  She was here, and she had a mission.  Kelly's surgery was the most important thing to her.  She'd do whatever she had to do to make sure the surgery happened.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Kel . . ." Bellaniece said as she frowned at her best friend.

"Oh, come on, Belle!  No one's going to know, least of all your daddy," the young ermine-youkai scoffed.

"I'm not afraid of Daddy," Bellaniece protested.  "It's just not a smart thing to do!"

Kelly laughed, mousy light brown hair tumbling over her shoulders as she let her head fall back, her face outlined in the light of the setting sun filtering through the window.  "You've got to try it!  A little marijuana never hurt anyone!"

Bellaniece shook her head and stood up stiffly as Kelly lit the joint.  "I'll see you, Kel."

"You're such a baby, Belle!  Heaven forbid you piss off your dad, right?  Whatever.  See you."

Bellaniece didn't answer as she strode out of the house.  Kelly had always been daring like that.  Bellaniece was, too, in her own way.  The difference was that Kelly's sort of rebellion tended to be more destructive while Bellaniece was more careful in choosing her battles.  Contrary to Kelly's belief, Bellaniece didn't fear her father, the great tai-youkai, at all.  Cain had a way of making Bellaniece feel as though she had completely let him down, and that, really, was something far worse than fear.  He'd get a certain look on his face, a sadness in his gaze as he slowly shook his head, and though he rarely said anything about her perceived badness, that look was enough—more than enough.

That was the night though . . .

Bellaniece remembered all too well.  The next morning, she'd headed to Kelly's house since the two of them ran to school together every morning.  Kelly's house was burned black, the frame creaking and groaning in the early spring wind blowing off the ocean.  Kelly was in the emergency trauma center nearly two hours away by car.  They said a smoldering cigarette butt had caused the fire.  Bellaniece knew in her heart it was something completely different.

And yet, Kelly had changed after that.  Gone was the rebellious girl who would do anything on a dare, and in her place was the childhood friend that Bellaniece had grown to adore in her youth.  The third degree burns that covered most of Kelly's body had been scary enough to see, and Bellaniece wondered more than once, if she had stayed, surely she would have made sure that whatever was burning was extinguished.  Nothing would have happened if Bellaniece had just stayed . . .

Kelly was youkai, and Bellaniece stubbornly believed that, as such, Kelly would heal fast.  That was true enough.  Kelly's youkai blood did save her from the fire, and it did help her flesh heal.  It couldn't prevent the scarring that covered most of Kelly's body, and though Kelly said that she deserved it, that she had been stupid, Bellaniece hadn't missed the sadness in her friend's eyes, and to that end, she'd started searching for someone who could help Kelly—and maybe if she could help Kelly, she wouldn't feel guilty anymore, either . . .

The door opened, jerking Bellaniece out of her reverie, and Kichiro strode in with a scowl on his face.  He glanced at Bellaniece before his gaze returned.  He didn't smile as he nodded curtly and headed past the women toward his office.

Mai rolled her eyes and shook her head before trailing after Kichiro, leaving Bellaniece alone in the quiet office.

She sighed.  If it weren't for the surgery Kelly so desperately needed, Bellaniece wouldn't think twice about walking out of the office and never looking back.


Cain rubbed his chin again as he leaned back on the desk and watched the college students bent over their fruit sketches.  While he had never actually sketched fruit before and had to wonder just what benefit could possibly come from it, he was also thankful that he had a bit of time to take in the students and acquaint himself with them before he was barraged with questions.

Gaze sweeping over the art students, one in particular kept commanding his attention.  Scrunched low on her stool, as though she was trying to take up as little space as possible, Gin Izayoi bit her lower lip as she scowled at her sketch pad.

'Damn, she's got a hard head,' he thought with a grimace as he shifted his jaw from side to side.

'Yeah . . . and what did you expect?  You scared the crap out of her.'

'I didn't do any such thing . . . at least, not on purpose.'

Her expression shifted into a chagrined scowl, her nose wrinkling just a little as her eyebrows drew together.  With a sigh, she set the pencil down, grabbed the kneaded eraser off the desk, and started blotting at the sketch.  Something about that look on her face bothered him, and he refused to delve too deeply for the reason.  With an inward snort at his capricious thoughts, Cain pushed himself to his feet and purposefully strode to the opposite side of the room, stopping beside the first student and studying the dull subject matter before muttering something both meaningless and perfunctory before moving on to the next.

The trouble was, as he soon found out, there were only fifteen students in the class, and not commenting on Gin's work was out of the question.  He'd wandered around for nearly an hour without approaching her.  Surely she'd calmed down enough by now that he wouldn't startle her again, right?

He snorted.  'Right.'

Still he hesitated before ambling over to her worktable, pausing only a moment to glance at her sketch before clearing his throat to announce his arrival before she threw her notebook at him or worse.  "Looks good," he commented in what he hoped was a neutral tone.

Gin's pale cheeks reddened and she ducked her head, twisting the pencil in her hands around in a decidedly nervous manner.  "Oh, thanks . . . I thought the orange was a little too . . . round . . ."

He leaned over her shoulder and narrowed his gaze on the sketch.  "So it's a perfect orange, just like your perfect apple and perfect grapes.  Huh."

She glanced at him quickly, an unspoken question lighting her golden eyes as she slowly shook her head.  "Is that bad?"

His smile was enigmatic, almost sad, and he shrugged as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and stepped back.  "Not bad . . . It just tells me that you don't view the world as flawed.  You see it all as . . . perfect."

Again she bit her lower lip as her frown deepened.  "That sounds bad."

"No . . . It just sounds idealistic.  Perfection can be boring, Izayoi-san: tedious and dull.  The world is full of imperfection, of unrealized potential because there isn't a being on earth that can attain such a goal.  Remember that."

She swallowed hard and nodded wordlessly as he walked away.

The rest of the class period passed quickly enough.  The students spent part of the time asking him questions about art and his exhibits.  The only one who didn't ask anything was Gin.  She sat at her worktable quietly, face buried in her sketchbook.  He never really thought fruit could be that interesting, and for a moment he had to wonder if he shouldn't have been so tough in critiquing her sketch.

It was the truth, wasn't it?  The world wasn't a nice place, and it didn't discriminate.  It didn't matter if you were the strongest or the most powerful.  It didn't care if you were the wisest or the most cunning.  In the end, the world would take what it would take, and there wasn't a damn thing that anyone could do to stop it.

Maybe young Miss Izayoi had been cherished and protected all her life, and that was likely the reason that she had such a naïve outlook on life.  Hadn't Cain tried to do that for his daughter, too?

He sighed, rubbing his temple with nimble fingertips.  The trouble was that a girl like Gin Izayoi was a rare thing, and rare things were meant to be sheltered, cosseted away from the harsher realities that she would undoubtedly have to face.

When class ended and the other students filed out, Gin hurriedly packed up her things and started down the aisle between tables, heading for the door.

Cain frowned and called after her.  " Izayoi-san."

She stopped and slowly turned to face him, her expression almost guilty, as though he caught her doing something wrong.

"Going somewhere?"

She blinked quickly and shook her head as color filtered into her cheeks for the third time since she'd walked into the classroom as slow understanding dawned on her.

"You're my teacher's aide, right?"

Wringing her hands, she shifted from one foot to the other while she forced a tight little smile and bit her lip—again.  "I don't know what's wrong with me today," she blurted as her face reddened more.  "I got up late, and the clumsiness, and then—"

His soft chuckle cut her off, and her little hanyou ears flattened against her head as her eyes brightened suspiciously.  "It's all right, Izayoi-san.  I have to check supplies.  Nothing breakable."

It took a moment for her to realize he was teasing her.  When she did, her face lit with a brilliant smile, and Cain was the one blinking in surprise as Gin dropped her bag on the nearest worktable and rubbed her hands together.  "Okay, I'm all yours."

'Damn . . .'

Cain cleared his throat and gestured at the small supply room adjacent to the classroom.  "Guess we should get started then," he said, hoping she didn't hear the slight catch in his voice.

Gin laughed and, with a nod, started down the aisle toward the supply room door as Cain slowly shook his head.

'She's just a pup,' he reminded himself.  Gin flipped her hair back over her slender shoulder.  Moments later the scent of trees and wind, of oceans breezes and spring rain assailed him.  Her frame swayed elegantly with her movements, and even as diminutive as she was, she held a certain presence, a quiet grace, a radiant beauty.  Cain ground his teeth together.  'Just a pup in a woman's body . . .'


Kichiro dropped the pen on the desk blotter and let his forehead fall into his raised hand with a sigh.  Most days he loved his job.  Most days had their rewards, no matter how small.  Today wasn't one of them.

In the few hours since he'd come into the office, he'd been inundated with nothing but nonsense.  Outer beauty was the thing women strove to perfect.  One of the women he'd seen was a regular.  She'd joked that she ought to get a frequent patient discount.  That had struck Kichiro as being infinitely sad.  He didn't know how many times he'd wanted to tell patients that they didn't need his services at all.  There was something intrinsically beautiful about every woman who walked through his office doors.  If there weren't the ever-looming threat of sexual harassment charges, no matter how groundless, he'd say something.  Trouble was, his patients weren't interested in therapy.  They wanted a quick fix that they perceived would change misconception they had when, in reality, it changed nothing.

Plastic surgery was just a cover, anyway.  His real interest was in perfecting the art of marking youkai mates, most notably the human ones.  Though he had been able to prove his theory of simple blood replacement years ago when his cousin, Toga was having difficulty carrying out the needed marking, Kichiro had been trying to find less invasive ways to accomplish this, thus making the entire process much easier on both parties involved.  Plastic surgery allowed him more free time as well as the ability to procure the office space needed to schedule markings.

His prophetic words came back to him, and he smiled sardonically.  "Can't say I blame you.  It's a nasty business.  I was hoping I'd find another hanyou, so I wouldn't have to do it."

He'd said it to Toga when Toga was trying to come up with an alternate way to mark Sierra.  It was still true.  If he found a youkai or hanyou mate, the marking could be overlooked . . .

'That is, if I ever find anyone I want to be with . . . or anyone who wants to be with me . . .'

He winced as he dragged a hand over his face.  'Even Ryo found someone already, and as much of a baka as he is, I figured he'd still be looking long after I'd found someone.'

Shaking his head at his thoughts, Kichiro shot to his feet and strode over to the window.  'All right, that was harsh, but true enough.  I guess I really did think that I'd be happily settled with a mate and a pup long before Ryo ever was.'

Then again, Ryomaru didn't have to go looking for his mate, did he?  She'd been there under his nose all along, really.  It was just that Ryomaru was also baka enough not to realize it right away, either.

'Maybe I should cut him some slack . . . I mean, his youkai chose Nezumi when we were still pups, ourselves, so it stands to reason that he didn't realize that the little voice in his head was his youkai, right?'

Kichiro grinned as he returned to his chair and flopped back in it.  'Nah . . . He really is a baka . . . Never thinks before he does stuff.  Hasn't that always been Ryo's problem?'

'And maybe you think too much, Kich.  Ever consider that?'

Kichiro made a face.  'Who asked you?'

His youkai laughed.  'That's the beautiful thing about it.  You never have to ask.  I like to give you my opinion.'

Kichiro shook his head and sighed.  'Shut up.'

"Dr. Izayoi, your last appointment for the day cancelled."

Kichiro glanced up and regarded the young hanyou in the doorway without changing expressions as she slipped into the office and sauntered toward him.

"You look angry . . . Did someone tweak your nose?" Bellaniece asked as she perched lightly on the desk.

'Balls, Kich . . . She's hot . . . and she's got a damn nice rack . . .'

'What?  I thought I told you to shut up!  And find another curse word.  'Balls' just isn't right.'

'Oh, balls . . . See?  Works just fine . . . Anyway, did you notice?   She smells nice, too . . .'

Bellaniece blinked and shook her head slowly, drawing away when Kichiro erupted in a low growl.  "Now I know I didn't do anything to deserve that," she pouted.

"Is there something you wanted?" he asked pointedly, his tone drier than normal as he slumped back in his chair.

Bellaniece shrugged.  "Not really . . . I just wanted to tell you about your appointment canceling.  Why do you look so mad?"

"Why do you care?"

He'd offended her.  He could tell in the way she sat up a little straighter, the way her nostrils flared the tiniest bit.  Her youki constricted around her, as though she was trying to protect herself, and for some perverse reason, her reaction pleased him.  "Are you always so grouchy?"

He shrugged.  "I'm not grouchy.  I'm thinking."

She grinned.  "You need to lighten up a little.  You're far too serious.  You're not old enough to be that serious."

"Maybe your life is fun and games, Belle-chan, but mine isn't.  I have responsibilities: things I have to do.  It's called growing up.  Perhaps you ought to look into it."

Those brilliant sapphire eyes snapped and blazed then narrowed as she stood up and leaned over the desk.  "You don't really know a thing about me, Dr. Izayoi.  How dare you make your assumptions without giving me a chance to prove you're wrong?"

"Girls like you walk into my office every day.  I've seen you all.  You toss your money around, and you expect the world to fall at your feet.  So . . . how much did that little dress cost you?  Or should I say, how much did it cost your father?"

"You're a jerk, you know that?  A big one."

"Name calling?  How . . . apropos."

"When the shoe fits . . ."

He narrowed his gaze on her.  "You don't really want to get into a mudslinging match, do you?  I think I'm better at those than you are."

She forced a tight little smile.  "Since you already think so little of me, then why don't you just let me pay for Kelly's surgery and be done with me?  You don't want me here, and I've got better things to do than to stand around waiting for your insults."

"So you can make the rules but you won't play the game?"

"Why then?"

He shrugged.  "Maybe you need to learn a few things about how the world works.  You can't bat your eyelashes and pout prettily and really think that you'll always get your way."

"And you can't sit behind that desk and judge everyone who walks into your office.  Wait . . . I guess you can.  Being a whole . . . what?  Ten years older than me gives you that right, doesn't it?"

"Girls like you never, ever work for a damn thing in your lives.  You're born, you live, and you'll die without ever having to earn a thing you're given, and the hell of it is, you think you deserve it."

"Why is that?  Because men like you say so?  You know nothing about me, so don't pretend you do."

Kichiro didn't respond as Bellaniece huffed to the door, a little smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he tried not to think about why her indignant bluster amused him so much.  

'Why are you being such an ass, Kich?'

'Thought I told you to shut up.'

'Keh!  Like I'll do that!  You're just being nasty because she gets under your skin.'

'As if.'

'And you hate it when I'm right.'

'I think I'll ignore you now.'

'As if.'

"Belle," he called after her.  She stopped, chin rising a notch as she slowly pivoted to level a glower at him.  He schooled his features before he laughed outright.  She looked so childish with her lips pursed in a tight little pucker and her arms crossed mulishly over her chest that she reminded him of a child version of Gin, throwing a tantrum to get her way.  "Your friend . . . She can have the first surgery in a few weeks—maybe a month or two.  Her skin needs a little more time to heal before I can do anything."

She looked surprised as he waved a hand at the file on his desk.  She'd apparently missed it when she was mid-tirade.

An odd brightness lit her gaze, and she nodded quickly.  "You mean, you've already checked into her situation?"

Kichiro shrugged.  "A deal's a deal, isn't it?"

"Thanks," she murmured in a subdued tone before hurrying out of the office, leaving Kichiro alone once more.

'She's something, isn't she?'

Kichiro sighed and snorted in the empty room.

'No, really . . . You might not want to believe it, but she's not as bad as you want to think she is.'

'Again, who asked you?'

'You don't have to ask me, Kich, you baka.  One of us has to be rational.  Might as well be me.'

Kichiro rolled his eyes.  'Rational?  You've got to be kidding.  You sound a little too much like Ryo to be considered 'rational'.'

'Say what you want.  At least I know a gorgeous woman when I see one . . . and I'm not afraid to say so, either.'

'Gorgeous, maybe,' Kichiro allowed as he rubbed his forehead.  'I'll argue the 'woman' part.  She's still just a pup trying to pretend she's all grown up.'

'Yep . . . sure . . . keep talking.  That'll make it true.'

'It is true.  She's a spoiled little rich girl, and I don't feel like indulging her.'

'Oh, balls!  Maybe you should be nicer to her.'

'What?'

'Well, you know, it's always a bad, bad thing to start out a long-term relationship in such turmoil.'

Kichiro's head snapped up as his eyes flared wide as he slowly shook his head.  'There isn't a 'long-term' thing about it . . . and I'm really going to ignore you now.'

His youkai just laughed at him.