InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity Redux: Vivication ❯ Whispers ( Chapter 15 )

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

Frowning at the closed door with his arms crossed over his chest, Fai pulled an arm free just enough to flick his hand, to look at his watch with a sigh.

Nearly two in the morning.

It was a lot later than he'd intended.  He'd actually meant to talk to Saori long before now.  Then he'd been waylaid by things that he'd neglected in the last couple weeks—things that he couldn't put off any longer, including a phone call to Evgeni Feodosiv, who had been both angry and relieved by turns.  That call had taken almost an hour and a half since Evgeni didn't actually buy Fai's story that he had just wanted to check into the orphanage, to see if there was anything he could do to keep it up and running.

He hadn't said a thing about Saori, but he wasn't sure why.  For some reason, though, the idea of telling anyone, even Evgeni, who had been like a surrogate father to Fai since he'd taken over as tai-youkai . . .

It bothered him.

'You just don't want to admit that a little girl managed to pull one over on you; is that it?'

Frown deepening at the sound of his youkai-voice's taunt, Fai snorted inwardly.  'No, that's not it,' he growled.

His youkai laughed.  'Yeah, I didn't really think so, either.  You hate the idea of saying anything to anyone that might paint her in a less than positive light.'

He sighed.  Somehow, he wasn't quite ready to admit that much, even to himself . . .

'You know, there's a good chance she's sleeping.'

Fai considered that, but shook his head.  No, he really didn't think she would be.  He could feel the gentle pulses of her youkai, even through the door, though he couldn't rightfully read her aura well enough to get a good handle on what sort of mood she might be in.

'Are you joking?  You'd better be prepared, Fai.  There's a good chance that she's going to want to rip your face off the second she sees you.  I mean, you had her arrested, after all . . .'

Raising his hand, hesitating for just a moment before tapping on the door, Fai waited.

She didn't answer.  In fact, he didn't hear any movement at all, coming from inside her room.  Propriety demanded that he turn and leave.  For some reason, though, the longer he waited, the more he felt like he needed to see her.

Ignoring that little voice in the back of his head—one that sounded entirely too much like his mother for his comfort—he turned the door knob and slowly pushed it open.

She wasn't in bed.  She wasn't at the small table.  Scanning the room, his frown darkened.  He could feel her, but he couldn't find her, and that was entirely disconcerting.  Moreover, her aura was entirely calm, wholly peaceful, and he wasn't expecting that.

But . . . Where was she . . .?

Stepping into the room, around the dais where the bed stood, past the huge hearth with a modest fire, burning brightly, a slight movement off to the right drew his attention, and he blinked.  The window near the wardrobe was open just enough to allow a stream of fresh air in, but that didn't concern him at all.

No, it was the rather diminutive form of the woman, curled up on the narrow window seat that interested him, and he shuffled closer, breaking into the barest hint of a smile as he stood, watching her sleep.  Knees drawn up, braced against the bottom of the window pane, she was slumped to the side, her temple resting against the cool glass, her arms tucked demurely into the narrow gap between her bent legs and her stomach.

He didn't disturb her, satisfied for the moment, just to look at her.  The full moon, shining through the window, seemed to caress her skin, bathing her in a whitish-blue haze that seemed to lend her an almost ethereal glow, a luster, a brilliance . . . The delicate structure of her features added a dramatic sort of play between the light and the shadows, enhancing the fullness of her lips, the richness of her eyelashes, of her eyebrows . . . Curiously, too, the light . . . It tangled in her hair, adding a paler shade of gray, only a few degrees darker than her skin.  If he didn't know better, he'd swear her hair wasn't nearly as deep in color as it was . . .

Something about her calmed him, didn't she?  Something about her made him forget just how stressful his day had been . . . As though all the things he'd had to deal with just faded away, and she did that, even if he had no idea, just how she'd managed it . . .

Raising his forearm, resting it against the window frame on the other side, he leaned his head against it, staring at her the whole while.  He had no idea, just how many minutes ticked away.  He wasn't entirely sure that it even mattered.  She uttered the softest sigh, and the vague smile on his lips widened just a touch.

'And that's why you shooed Olga out of the kitchen, too.  Just couldn't tolerate the idea of someone else, cooking for her, could you?'

'After all the traveling?  We all deserved a good, hot meal,' he argued.

His youkai wasn't buying.  'Except you only cooked food for her.  You and Yerik ate what Olga had already prepared, but not Saori . . .'

He could feel the tell-tale heat creeping into his cheeks, and he could only be grateful that Saori was sleeping and therefore didn't see it.  'It would have been entirely wasteful to throw out what she'd made.'

His youkai heaved a sigh, but remained silent otherwise—a good thing, considering . . . After all, she liked his cooking; she'd said as much, and that was as good a reason as any, wasn't it?  Besides, the slight distraction afforded him while he cooked her meal was enough to bolster his resolve as he'd returned to his office afterward.

Drawing a deep breath, Fai pushed himself upright once more.  Glancing at his watch, he made a face.  Nearly three in the morning, which meant that he'd been standing here, staring at her like he was some sort of crazy stalker-type for almost an hour.

So, he carefully scooped her up, trying his best not to disturb her sleep.  She whimpered softly, her brows drawing together slightly, but she didn't open her eyes as he shuffled over to the bed, laying her down gently, letting his fingertips linger on her cheek for a very long moment before he pulled the coverlet up over her.

Her clothing gave him pause, and he shook his head.  He hadn't stopped to consider it at the time, had he?  He should have given her time to gather her things, but, given the situation, he wasn't exactly thinking as clearly as he should have been, which meant he either had to send for her things or he'd have to figure out a way to get her some clothing since she had none.  There really was no getting around it, given that she'd also left her wallet there, too, and he wondered just what Yerik would say if Fai ordered him to go back to retrieve her effects . . .

Letting out a deep breath, he sank down beside her, resuming his task of watching her sleep.  He had a feeling that he wouldn't mind doing this for a long, long time—content, just to be near her, content just to . . . to be with her . . .


"I hear that Konstantin Korinovich has been spouting more of his pseudo-threats.  Not surprising, but something you may want to check into.  The longer you allow him to run his mouth, the less control it seems like you exert over the situation."

Staring out the window at the conspicuously empty spot in the driveway where Fai's car normally sat, he lifted the glass of vodka to his lips and sipped it slowly.  Yerik had taken Saori to buy some clothes a couple hours ago, and they still weren't back yet . . . But at least his accounts had been released, which was a small consolation.

"Fai?  Fai . . .? Your Grace?"

Yanking himself out of his own reverie, Fai cleared his throat, but didn't turn away from the window.  "What's that?"

Evgeni Feodosiv heaved a sigh, his chair creaking as he pushed himself to his feet.  "You haven't heard a word I've said in the last hour, have you?"  He didn't sound irritated as much as he seemed a little dubious.  Striding over to the sideboard to fill a glass with vodka, the griffon-vulture-youkai took his time.  "Care to tell me what's distracting you?"

"Nothing," Fai lied, forcing himself to turn away from the window.  "You were saying?"

Evgeni's golden-brown eyes narrowed.  "Somehow, I don't believe you," he mused.  "In fact, I get the feeling that you're hiding something."

"There's nothing to hide," Fai stated, pushing away from the window and striding back over to the desk once more.  "So, you were saying . . .?"

Evgeni slowly shook his head, his large frame slumping a little lower in the chair.  "I said that there's been rumor that Konstantin Korinovich has been trying to incite more trouble.  I'll speak candidly?"

Holding out a hand, Fai gave one curt nod.

Evgeni drained the glass of vodka and set it aside, tapping his fingertips together as he pondered the best way to say what it was he wanted to say.  "I know that you don't hold much stock in the idea, but perhaps, in this case, you ought to consider . . . nipping the problem at the bud, so to speak."

Fai scowled.  "You think I should bring him in?  That I should, what?  Kill him for running his mouth?"

Evgeni shrugged.  "He is inciting unrest against you, Fai.  I understand your feelings on the matter, but the fact remains that you are not your father—your position is quite a bit more precarious, like it or not, and—"

"—And I refuse to cut down someone simply for asserting his beliefs, right or wrong," Fai cut in coldly.

"Your sense of fairness is going to get you in trouble one day," Evgeni warned.

"I'm strong enough to hold my office on my own merit," Fai said.

"Dissidence spreads like infection," Evgeni went on, sounding rather philosophic.  "I just worry that doing nothing will lead to something you cannot even imagine."

"If it does, then it does," Fai argued mildly.  "If I went, chasing after every rumor, every whisper, that I heard of?  I'd be doing nothing at all but killing people who might just be having a bad day and who need to have someone to blame it all on."

"I can't say I feel this is in your best interests, Fai . . ."

"With all due respect, Evgeni, I am still tai-youkai, so unless or until someone comes forward to issue a formal challenge and possesses the skill to defeat me, then this is my law."

Evgeni stared at him for a long moment, his expression dark, almost calculating.  Finally, though, he smiled, albeit a little tightly, and he shrugged.  "As you will, Your Grace."

Fai sighed.  "And you, of all people, don't need to stand upon formality."

Evgeni nodded, gripping the thick wooden arms of the chair in preparation to haul himself to his feet.  "Well, I must be going, Fai.  Just do an old man a favor?  Think on what I said."

Rolling his eyes, Fai stood up.  "You're hardly old, and even if I think about it, I'm not going to change my stance."

The indulgent smile was so thin, Fai could see right through it.  Shrugging his jacket on, he took his time, straightening his sleeves, adjusting his collar and tie.  "Fai . . ."

"Yes?"

"You never did tell me where you were for . . . two weeks . . .?"

Stepping around the desk, Fai retrieved a bottle of water out of the small refrigerator in the wetbar.  "I did tell you.  I went to see the orphanage," he said.

"I thought you decided to close that."

"I did," he said.  "Then I realized that I could keep it open as long as I implemented a few changes—cutbacks in staffing, trying to see about getting some of the children placed . . ."

"And you think that'll work?"

"It has to.  It was Mother's project."

"Sentimentality doesn't suit you," he said.  "Don't make the mistake of letting your heart rule your mind."

Fai leveled a look at his advisor and friend.  "You're dangerously close to overstepping yourself, Evgeni," he said, refusing to allow his own personal feelings to dictate his actions.

Evgeni, for the most part, looked a little surprised at the set-down, but he managed a tight little smile, a curt nod.  "As you wish, Your Grace," he said, inclining his head in deference to Fai's station.  Then he turned and slipped out of the office, closing the door behind himself as Fai watched him go.

Of course, he could appreciate Evgeni's concerns.  To be honest, he figured it would be pretty unnatural for the griffon-vulture-youkai to do otherwise.  He wasn't known for keeping his own counsel, at least, not in matters such as these.  More and more often of late, however, his suggestions were leaning more toward the demanding side, though this was the first time he had given in to the desire to disabuse the old man of his more grandiose ideas.

True enough, he thought as he wandered over to the window once more, the idea of allowing someone such as Konstantin Korinovich to keep running his mouth could lead to more trouble in the long run, but as he'd said, he wasn't in the habit of challenging someone, just to quell the threat he may cause.  If it came back to bite him in the ass later?  Well, he'd deal with that, too . . .

Letting out a deep breath that lifted the long bangs that hung into his eyes, he deliberately refused to look back at his desk: at the mountain of work that required his attention.  Formal missives for more funding that he would have to summarily deny, a stack of requests to meet with him, face to face, for whatever reason, most of them a little frivolous, contracts for the distillery that needed looked over and signed . . .

Dragging his hands over his face, he slowly shook his head.

He'd turned over the day-to-day management of the distillery to an old badger-youkai who basically already ran the place, and he had told him, too, that he could take care of the contracts and such, as well, but Ivan Yasyovich was too old-school for that, so it was his habit of sending the contracts to Fai, along with notes attached that broke everything down so that he could get the gist of the contract in a few minutes instead of having to spend hours, pouring over each one.

The Demyanov Distillery was opened back in Fai's great-grandfather's time, specializing in vodka.  At present, they produced five different labels, but the most special one, in Fai's opinion, was the Faina Crystal Label that Alexei had created specifically for Fai's mother.  It was a little fruitier since just the barest hint of apple and peach were added to the mix—not enough to stand out, just enough to add a little sweetness, a hint of flavor that lingered in the nose without overwhelming the palate.  It was also the most popular of the labels.  One day, Fai wanted to expand the distillery, to give it more production capability, but that would take money, and right now, money was not as plentiful as he'd like . . .

At least, the whole debacle with his accounts had been cleared up, which was a good thing, given that Fai had sent Yerik and Saori into town to get her some clothing.

Forcing himself away from the window, Fai shuffled over to plop down at his desk once more.  If he could just get caught up a little . . .

'If you could, then you might be able to spend some time with Saori, you mean.'

Ignoring his youkai-voice, Fai reached for the stack of contracts.  Usually he read them over before signing them, but this time, he broke with tradition, simply pulling off the sticky notes where Ivan had scrawled the highlights and signed them.  After all, Ivan had never sent on a bad contract yet, and Fai didn't figure he'd start doing that now.  From the looks of them, anyway, they were just requests to supply to a few new markets, and that was fine.  So far, they only shipped as far as Poland, so, it would be nice to expand farther.

To be honest, he actually preferred the distillery business to that of being the tai-youkai.  He didn't have much choice in it, of course, but if he did, he'd have been more than happy to run the company for awhile before being forced into office.  Maybe, if things ever evened out, maybe he could work with the distillery a little more . . .

Of course, that was a long-term goal.  Right now, the important thing was just to keep his head above the proverbial water.

A discreet knock sounded on the door—precisely two taps, no more, no less.  "Come," Fai called out.

"Your Grace," Vasili said with a crisp bow.  "Lord Yerik is back with your . . . With the young lady."

"Good," Fai remarked, signing the next contract.  "Would you ask Yerik to come in here when he's got a minute?"

"Very well," Vasili said, backing out of the room again.

He'd just finished with the contracts when the door opened and Yerik slipped inside.  "She's mad at you," he said without preamble and without bothering to elaborate.

"Huh?" Fai muttered, reaching for the stack of letters that had already been opened and arranged in a neat pile.

"Saori.  She's mad at you."

Dropping his pen as he lifted his chin to glower at his brother, Fai slowly shook his head.  "Mad at me?  Why?"

Yerik shrugged almost casually.  "I believe her word was, 'baka—ba-a-a-a-a-aka' . . . I have no idea what it means, but she said it with an awful lot of conviction."

Fai frowned since he wasn't sure what it meant, either.  "If you don't know what it means, then how do you know that she's mad at me?"

Pausing as he sloshed vodka into a clean glass, Yerik glanced at him for a moment.  "Because I'd just said your name, and she made this sort of growling noise, then she said that, so whatever it means, I'm pretty sure it isn't complimentary."

Fai snorted, standing up, digging his hands deep into his pockets.  "Okay, but why would she be mad at me, in the first place?"

Yerik rolled his eyes over the glass of vodka.  "Oh, I don't know . . . because you had her arrested?  Because you embarrassed her in front of everyone at the orphanage?  Because you took her phone away?  Because you ordered her locked up—do you know that Vasili put her in the east wing?"

"The east wing?  There's nothing there . . ."

"Exactly.  I had a devil of a time, locating her.  I moved her to the west wing when I figured it out.  Mostly, though, I think she might be mad at you since you haven't bothered to say one word to her in the three days she's been here."

"I've been busy," Fai growled, stomping around the desk to fill a glass for himself, "and I have gone to see her every night.  It just so happens that she's sleeping by then . . ."

Yerik sighed.  "You kind of sound like a demented stalker," he pointed out dryly.

Fai snorted.  "Shut up.  I'm doing the best that I can, but I have to get this stuff caught up."

"What is she to you?"

That got Fai's attention quickly enough.  Head snapping to the side to pin his brother with a fulminating glower, he uttered a terse growl.

Yerik held up a hand to stop Fai's tirade before it started.  "I’m being serious, Fai.  I mean, I've never seen you this . . . this out of control, this . . . unlike yourself.  It's not a bad thing.  It's just, the Fai I know?  If anyone else had come up and kissed you like that?  You'd have been angry—livid—blustering about the impropriety of it all.  So, you know, if it matters to you at all, I like her.  I like her a lot.  She's smart and funny . . . She doesn't play games, and she isn't fake or trying to put on some act, just to impress you."

"You think I don't know that?" he shot back defensively.

Yerik shrugged again.  "I don't know what you do or don't know, Fai.  It's okay, though.  You realize that, right?"

"What is?"

Yerik chuckled, his bright green eyes shining mischievously.  "She's hot, Fai—damn hot.  I can see why you wouldn't want her to just walk out of your life.  I get that.  Maybe you ought to tell her that, though, instead of sneaking into her room in the dead of night while she's sleeping."

"Yerik . . ."

That said, Yerik chuckled, digging Fai's bank card out of his pocket, dropping it on the desk along with a handful of receipts, and ambled toward the door.  "Anyway, I just thought you should know.  That's all."  Then he slipped out, closing the door quietly behind him, leaving Fai to stew over the words he'd said . . .