InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity Redux: Vivication ❯ Intrigue ( Chapter 37 )

“What’s going on with you?”

Saori made a face as she settled down on the sofa in the antechamber of the bedroom suite.  At least Rinji looked more perplexed than angry, she thought.  “I was offered a job, helping Fai-sama find homes for the orphans,” she told him.

“Yes, that’s what kaa-san said,” he replied.  Brows furrowing together, he slowly shook his head, silvery hair spilling over his broad shoulders, golden eyes, bright, almost glowing.  There were so many moments when she was struck by how very much Rinji looked like their grandfather—pretty much exactly like him, actually—except when Rinji smiled, of course.  A bright, open, engaging smile that was lightyears away from the vague little half-smiles of their esteemed grandparent . . . Now, as he sat back in his office chair in the pristine and perfectly pressed white dress shirt—hopelessly neat, immaculately tailored—was one of those times.  “He’s not trying to lock you up again, is he?”

She giggled.  She couldn’t help herself, but the sound of her amusement only served to darken Rinji’s expression, which, in turn, just added to his Sesshoumaru-like appearance.  “No, he isn’t,” she said.  “It’s all right, nii-chan.  He’s a really good man.  You’re going to like him.”

“Oh, I will, will I?” he half-grumbled.  “Somehow, I highly doubt that.”

“You don’t think you’ll like him?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever meet him,” he clarified.  “Unless that’s your way of saying you need me to come rescue you.  Are you speaking in code, Saori-chan?”

“No, I’m not,” she insisted.  “I think you will though . . . Well, eventually . . .”

He didn’t look like he believed her, but he shrugged.  “You realize that your disappearance shaved a good thousand years off of otou-san’s life.  Mine, too, come to think of it . . .”

“I’m sure kaa-chan told him—told you—where I was . . .That I wanted to go.”

Rinji sighed.  “Actually, she didn’t at first.  Refused, actually.  Forbade me from trying to track you down, too, which just figured, but she said you were safe . . . Tou-san and kaa-chan, though . . . They had a good, old-fashioned fight about it.”

She grimaced.  “They did?”

He nodded, slumping to the side in his office chair, propping his elbow on the armrest, resting his temple on his index finger and thumb, spread into the shape of the letter, ‘L’.  “I guess he hadn’t taken the time to explain why he went to go find Demyanov-sama, just that that’s where they were going—he and ojii-san.  Anyway, ojii-san called to say that Fai-sama had called him, so . . .”

She didn’t know what to say to that.  The last thing—the very last thing—she’d ever wanted to do was to cause an argument between her parents . . .

Rinji sighed.  “Saori, you always take everything so personally.  Kaa-san was thinking of you when she refused to tell him anything.  It wasn’t until tou-san said that he and ojii-san went to go talk to Demyanov-sama, to ask him if he was done, trying to punish you for . . . Well, for that . . . Anyway, once he explained that, then she was more than happy to tell him that you’d taken Demyanov-sama up on his offer of a job.”

“. . . But they’re not fighting anymore, right?”

Her brother smiled.  It was the indulgent little smile that she knew so well, full of affection and even a little amusement.  It lent his amber gaze a certain glow, deepened the color to more of a tawny, a sherry . . . It was the smile that Saori loved.  “No, Saori-chan, they’re not fighting any more . . . But speaking of your new job, obaa-san said to tell you that she’s still looking into potential adopters . . . She said she has a few who might be interested, and jiji said that he’s been talking to some of the wealthier families in the area to see if any of them would be willing to house some of the older children while they attend Tokyo Gakuen.  He says that so far, there is quite a bit of interest, so if you could compile a list of the children that you’d like to send here, then it’d give him a better idea, how many families he’d need.”

“I’ll do that,” she promised.  “I’m sure Fai-sama will agree to that.  It would take a huge burden off the orphanage, too . . .”  Suddenly, she giggled.  “Fai-sama’s taking me to a traditional Kupala celebration!  His . . . well, I guess he’s his friend . . . He’s throwing a huge party—a couple days of festivities and a formal ball afterward.  I have to admit, I’m pretty excited . . . I bought my dress earlier today.”

“And he’s just your boss . . .?” he challenged rather dubiously, arching an eyebrow in silent challenge.

“Yes, of course . . . I admit, I thought about wearing the dress I bought in Australia when he took me to the opera, but I didn’t think it was quite formal enough, and Kupala is a celebration of summer, so I thought something lighter would be better . . .”

“Is that right?”  Tilting his head to the side, he stared at her for several seconds, a thoughtful expression on his beloved face.  When she was younger, the few sleepovers she’d had, she’d discovered that her friends had loved it whenever Rinji just happened to stop by . . . Objectively speaking, she had to admit, he was one of the better-looking men she knew, even if he was her brother . . . There was just something about him, she supposed, even if Rinji himself never actually seemed to notice the uncanny effect he tended to have on the female population, in general . . .

“Nii-chan?”

He blinked, as though he hadn’t realized that he was staring off into space.  Then he chuckled.  “Sorry.  I was just remembering when you’d get that look on your face when you’d talk to me instead of when you’re talking about Demyanov-sama.”

“Look?  What look?”

He shook his head, but his smile didn’t fade.  In fact, it turned a little bashful—entirely sweet and entirely endearing, too.  “That look, like I was the one you liked best in the world.  I think I’ve been replaced . . .”  He shrugged.  “So, are you going to tell me what’s really going on over there?”

“I . . .” She wrinkled her nose.  “There’s nothing going on.  I swear.”

“Nothing you want to tell onii-chan about, anyway . . .”

She giggled.  “And you tell me everything?  Because I won’t believe you if you say you do.”

“I’m much older than you, Saori, and—”

“Twenty-six years isn’t that big of a difference,” she interrupted.

He rolled his eyes.  “It kind of is.”

“To humans, sure, but we’re youkai.  If you think about it that way, twenty-six years is a pretty short time, really . . .”

Her logic amused him, and he chuckled.  “The fact remains that I’m old enough to be your father, which is why I am absolutely allowed to keep certain things from you.”

Saori frowned at him.  “Nii-chan . . .”

“Hmm?”

“It occurred to me . . .”

“Hmm?”

She rolled her eyes since he had slipped into the, ‘I’m-going-to-humor-you,’ tone of voice.  “You’re almost fifty—”

“I’m forty-six.”

“—which is still almost fifty.  When are you going to find your mate?”

“For your information, Little Miss Nosy, I’m not in that big a hurry to find one.  If it happens, it happens.  If it doesn’t happen, then it doesn’t.  You can’t really rush that kind of thing, anyway, and it’s not like I don’t have quite enough on my plate as it is.”

She wrinkled her nose.  “You’ve put a lot of thought into this,” she pointed out.  “Why is that?  Too busy, playing the field?”

He grunted.  “I’ll talk to you later,” he said, leaning forward, hand reaching toward the camera—toward the computer.  “Bye.”

She laughed when he abruptly ended the call.  She missed Rinji, no doubt about it.

The computer chimed, letting her know that she’d received an email, and she leaned in to tap it.  It was from Sabra Kouri, the African tai-youkai.

Biting her lip as she clicked to download the attachments, she scanned the first one, long enough to ascertain that the files on the families were very detailed, including lists of personal references, financial reports, everything she could possibly need.  Even better, she noticed as she scanned through the other documents, none of the families had asked for children that were already set to meet other families.  She’d done her best to apprise the different tai-youkai that some of the children had already been tentatively paired up with families from other jurisdictions, but she’d worried that maybe she’d been a little preoccupied, that she might have forgotten to send some of the memos on . . .

Grabbing the slim-file she’d transferred the information to, she stood up and hurried to the door, ready to find Fai and to tell him about the most recent developments—not just the email from Sabra-sama, but also the information that her brother had given her, too.

Yerik grimaced as he accepted the outstretched hand, offered to help him to his feet.  He was stiff he was sore, and yet, he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“You still breathing, pup?” InuYasha asked in a rather bored tone of voice, dropping Tetsusaiga into the scabbard on his hip as he crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at Yerik.

“I’m ready,” he said, adjusting his grip on his sword.

InuYasha didn’t look convinced and waved a hand.  “Take a break,” he growled.

“It’s fine,” Yerik insisted, struggling just a little to keep from breathing too heavily.

“Take a break,” InuYasha growled a second time.  “Anyway, you’re not doing too bad.  Not like I think you’re gonna die if you get sent out again.”

Ryomaru chuckled.  “High praise coming from him.”

Dropping the sword into the scabbard on his hip, Yerik headed over to the clear stream, taking his time as he scooped up some water in his hands and drank it down.

They were a bit away from the castle since InuYasha and Ryomaru didn’t want to let Saori know that they were there.  Yerik was of the opinion that she wouldn’t mind, not really, but they seemed to think that she might well freak out if she found out that they were assigned to watch out for her.  At this point, they were both pretty sure that Fai had no intention of locking her up again, but they weren’t quite ready to call it quits, either, and that was fine with Yerik.  After all, he was ultimately benefitting from their presence in Russia, even if his body wasn’t as convinced as his mind was . . .

It was pretty brutal, actually.  Neither InuYasha nor Ryomaru ever pulled their punches.  It wasn’t as bad as the first couple days, though, when they were doing little more than sparring with him, just to assess his level of skill.  Yerik had thought that he was very well trained.  He was wrong.  Those two moved ridiculously fast, and having even just one of them as an opponent was tough enough.

He’d started out, sparring with Ryomaru, and he’d thought that was bad.  He’d soon learned that there was a reason that history had named InuYasha the Hanyou of Legend.  He was intuitive enough to avoid most every attack, and on the occasion when Yerik was able to land a hit, it was always countered with ridiculous speed.

Right now, he was learning how to see the collision of youki, to find the fissure where they met.  InuYasha had told him that his kaze no kizu wouldn’t be as powerful as one performed with Tetsusaiga, but that he should be able to use it once he learned it, however, he probably wouldn’t be able to infuse his own youki into the blade to use it without an actual conflict, as InuYasha could do, simply because of the way the sword was made.  If it had been created to absorb Yerik’s youki, then it could have.  It wasn’t, though, since he had no real use of elemental properties . . .

“You’re doing a hell of a job.  Can’t say I’ve seen anyone with your drive, really . . . Well, not since Bas, and he’s a law unto himself . . .” Ryomaru remarked, hunkering down beside the stream to get a drink of water.  “If that one’s coming straight at you, you’d do better to just get the fuck outta the way . . .”

“Bas?”

Ryomaru grinned.  “Oh, Sebastian . . .  next North American tai-youkai.  That one’s built like a brick shithouse, and it’s one-hundred-percent scary-as-hell . . .”

“Are you scared of him?”

Ryomaru snorted.  “Me?  Keh!  I eat pups like him for dinner!”

Yerik rolled his eyes, but grinned.

“Ow!” Ryomaru growled when InuYasha balled up his fist and thumped him on the head.  “What’d you do that for, oyaji?”

“Quit your smack-talking, baka, and get back on task—both of you.”

Ryomaru stood up slowly, rubbing at his head despite the goofy grin that had surfaced on his features.  “C’mon, Yerik.  Let’s see if you can get it right this time.”

Yerik was a little slower in getting to his feet, but he stood up and followed the hanyou back over to the clearing to resume his practice.

Fai strode into Saori’s room, a marked scowl, darkening his gaze.  Spotting her all cozy under the thin duvet as she turned the page of the book she was reading, he arched an eyebrow and stomped over to the bed.

“Did something displease you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.  He wasn’t wearing a shirt or slacks, decked out instead in a pair of gray cotton sleeping pants, and he slowly shook his head when she didn’t even bother to raise her head.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she told him a little absently.  “I didn’t know how long you were going to be locked in your office, and I was sleepy.  That’s all.”

He grunted.  “You could sleep—or read, actually—in my bed.”

She gave a very vague little nod.  “I could, but this one looked comfortable, and I haven’t slept in it yet . . .” Lifting her chin to frown at him, she shook her head.  “Besides, don’t you think the maid wonders about that when she comes in here to make my bed every day?”

“I think I pay her well enough not to care where you sleep at night, Saori.”

She didn’t look like she believed him.  In fact, she wiggled around, making herself more comfortable against the mountain of pillows, propped behind her.

“All right,” he grumbled, stomping around the bed.  “You win.”

She blinked, biting her lip as a tiny smile twisted the corners of her lips when he crawled into bed next to her.  “Don’t hog the blankets.”

She rolled her eyes when he gave the duvet a good yank, holding it to his chest as he rolled over to face away from her, very nearly uncovering her in the process.  “Hey!”

“My blankets are bigger because my bed is bigger,” he pointed out.  “Night, Saori.”

She giggled, setting the book aside so that she could cuddle against his back.  He shrugged his shoulder in a show of trying to shake her off, which only made her laugh harder.  “Oyasumi,” she said between giggled.

Fai heaved a longsuffering sigh, but rolled over to pull her against his chest.  “Go to sleep,” he told her gruffly.

She leaned up, kissed his cheek, before snuggling against him once more as she closed her eyes.