InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity Redux: Vivication ❯ One Week ( Chapter 43 )

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

Saori clicked, ‘send’ on the last of the tai-youkai emails.  She’d spent the week since they’d gotten back from Evgeni’s estate, compiling and coordinating, calling the orphanage, asking for new pictures of each of the children, gaining a rough time frame as to when to arrange meetings and visitations between potential adopters and the children . . .

It was a flurry of phone calls, of emails.  So far, everything seemed to be coming together, including an impromptu meeting of the tai-youkai.  They usually met at least once a year to discuss global issues and stuff like that.  Since the tai-youkai were opting to accompany the adopters, it seemed like a good time to go ahead and arrange that, as well.  Fai was the one who had suggested it, even though he was more than a little dubious about it.  Russia had never hosted such a thing.  Usually, it fell upon the Japanese contingent—or the North American one.  Every now and then, they’d opt to go to Australia, and once shortly after Fai had taken over as Asian tai-youkai, they had held the meeting in South America.

She figured that maybe it was a sign that he was becoming a little more receptive to the idea that it might well benefit Asia on a whole to try to end the global isolation that the region was known for.  He might not be ready to open up completely, but it was a step in the right direction, in her opinion.

The only problem, as far as she could tell, was MacDonnough-sama.  Fai had called him, and, while he hadn’t told her exactly what was said, she got the impression that it wasn’t good, in any case.

‘That, and you heard him as he walked past you, mumbling something about rat-poison . . .’

She made a face.  ‘That, too . . . You don’t think he was talking about killing a fellow tai-youkai, do you?’

Her youkai voice sighed, then chuckled.  ‘Well, if it’s the MacDonnough, would he really be missed . . .?’

‘That’s terrible!’ she scolded.

‘The truth usually is.’

Saori shook her head. She and the rest of her family understood that there was nothing at all wrong with having a bit of human blood. Some of the strongest people in her family had human blood in them.  Even so, she understood—recognized—that there were still many, many youkai who continued to believe that hanyou were weak, tainted.  Most of the tai-youkai didn’t think that.  The MacDonnough, however, was one of the ones—maybe the only one—who did . . .

Twisting her body, flopping down on the sofa with a long sigh, she pushed her arms up over her head, arching her back up, rolling slightly from side to side, as she stretched.

“Saori, I . . . Ah-h-h . . .”

Blinking quickly, she looked up at Fai and smiled.  He had a slight frown on his face, but he seemed more thoughtful than anything.  Crossing one arm over his stomach, resting his other elbow on his wrist, he tapped the end of a tapered claw against his lips as he watched her, rich hazel eyes sparkling with unvoiced amusement.

“Fai . . .”

“Sleeping on the job, are you?” he teased, arching an eyebrow at her.

She giggled.  “No.  I was just taking a short break.  Everything’s almost done.  They’ve all agreed that the best time would be the end of this month, so, that gives us a couple of weeks to get everything else arranged.”  She pressed her lips together as she considered what she wanted to say, and how she wanted to say it.  “I’ll get the exact dates for you so that you can call MacDonnough-sama again . . .”

He made a face, scooping up her legs and sitting down beside her, settling her legs on his lap.  “Oh, I’m sure that Ian will have something to say about it,” he predicted, his expression darkening.  “Maybe we’ll get lucky, and he won’t be able to make it.”  Intercepting the slightly disapproving shake of her head, he snorted.  “I can hope, can’t I?”

“You’re making me not want to meet him,” she pointed out.

Fai grunted.  “I already know him, and I don’t want to meet him, either.”

She let out a deep breath, conceding his point.  “He wasn’t very nice on the phone when I called to ask him about the orphans,” she ventured.

“He’s never very nice,” Fai responded.  “Back when I first took over, he actually said that I hadn’t earned the right; that Asia was too big for the likes of me to handle . . . Arrogant bastard . . .”

“But why is he so disagreeable?” she pressed, sitting up, drawing up her knees, wrapping her arms around them.  “After what he did to my cousin’s mate . . . I just don’t understand . . .”

“I’m pretty sure he was just born that way,” Fai grumbled, shaking his head.  “Damn him . . .”

He reached for the slim-file where she’d compiled all the information on potential adopters, the children, and all the times and dates.  As he scrolled through the tables and documents, he smiled just a little.  “You’re good at this kind of thing,” he murmured.  Then he made a face.  “Maybe I ought to let you look over the books—see if you can squeeze any more blood out of the orange, as it were . . .”

She frowned thoughtfully.  “Are you having trouble with that?  Well, more trouble?”

He made a face, set the slim-file back on the coffee table.  “Always,” he confessed with a grimace, rubbing a tired hand over his face.  “Honestly, I don’t know how my father did it.  There aren’t any extra things that I’ve picked up, as far as that goes.  Every quarter, though, it feels like there just isn’t enough to stretch, and I . . .” He made a face.  Whether it was the perceived failure that he couldn’t take care of everything or not, she wasn’t sure, but she knew intuitively that it wasn’t something he normally discussed with anyone, not even Yerik.

Chin ducking, he gave an almost imperceptible shrug, his gaze trained down at the floor.  “He’s made offers to buy out part of my jurisdiction,” he went on quietly—angrily.  “I never wanted to consider it.  I don’t know if it’s just my pride—my own feeling that I should be able to handle it, just like my father and his father before him . . . but I . . .”

“Do you want me to look?  I don’t know if I could help, but . . .” Frowning as she concentrated on the things that Fai had said . . . It didn’t sound right, did it?  “You know, nii-chan is really good with stuff like this,” she ventured haltingly, hesitantly, unsure just what Fai might say about it.  “Nii-chan handles the finances and stuff for my parents’ company, and he keeps things balanced, down to the last bit . . . I mean, he’s trained to do this kind of thing . . .”

She could tell from the look on his face that Fai really, really hated the idea of asking for help, even from her—maybe especially from her.  She bit her lip and shrugged.  “Nii-chan wouldn’t tell anyone anything . . . If you wanted him to help, I’m sure he would . . . I’m not exactly the best when it comes to numbers—at least, not like he is.”

He was weighing his options.  She could tell from the thoughtful expression on his face.  She had little doubt in her mind that accepting her offer to ask Rinji was the very last thing he wanted, but when forced to compare his options: taking Ian MacDonnough up on his offer to effectively sell off a part of his rightful jurisdiction and not being able to provide the funding for the basest of necessities . . . He sighed.  “Why don’t you look them over?  If you find something wrong, then we’ll see . . .”

“I could do that,” she agreed, smiling at him, trying to encourage him.  In those moments, he seemed so much older than he was, and something about that broke her heart.  Worried about the weight of everything that comprised his office, she supposed, not that she could blame him.  She only wished that there was more she could do to help him—to reassure him, even if she couldn’t do anything to alleviate his worries, his stress.

He intercepted her look, managed a wan smile that didn’t reach his eyes.  “I’m sorry,” he said, starting to push himself to his feet.  “I shouldn’t have laid all of that on you.  Don’t—”

She caught his hand, tugged him back down again.  “You’re fine,” she assured him with a stubborn shake of her head.  “We’ll figure it out.  And don’t you dare consider selling off a part of your territory, especially not to someone like him.”

He let out a deep breath, staring at her for a long moment before reaching over, tugging her against his side as he slipped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.  “That’s the difference,” he murmured, his lips still buried in her hair.  “You tell me that we’ll figure it out.  Evgeni always tells me that I’m a fool for not taking MacDonnough up on his offer.”

“Why would he encourage you to do that?” she couldn’t help asking.  “He’s supposed to be your friend—your advisor, right? So . . .”

“He’s pragmatic,” Fai said.  “He knows the situation—well, parts of it.  He’s just trying to point out the options.”

“Maybe,” she said slowly, shaking her head as she pondered it all.  “I still don’t think that trying to talk you into selling off a portion of your jurisdiction is the right thing to do . . .”

He sighed again, pulling her into his lap, rubbing his cheek against hers.  The closeness to him was welcome, comforting, and she sighed softly, too.  “I’m not going to,” he told her.  “Not unless I have no other choice . . .”


Settling back in the heavy desk chair with the mountain of correspondence that he’d ignored during the last week since they’d been back from Evgeni’s home and the Ivan Kupala celebration, Fai rubbed his forehead as he let out a deep breath.

Most of the letters were the usual: more funding for this, requests for consideration for that . . . Those he’d deal with later, usually with a standard form letter, ‘I’m sorry, but due current budget restraints . . .’

There were letters from a couple more of his regents requesting meetings to discuss affairs in their areas.  He was about to set those aside into a stack for when he had more time, but, given the situation with Maxim and Konstantin, he had to wonder if he weren’t summarily dismissing them out of turn.

Maybe . . .

He frowned.  Maybe his father was wrong.  All of the times when he’d told Fai that he could only rely upon himself, when he’d stressed the need to keep the power from being distributed . . . He might have had a point in theory, and maybe if Fai’s region weren’t so vast, but . . . But hanging onto that power, just for the sake of having it?  Was that really the best way?

‘You know, your father . . . He was a strong tai-youkai, but . . . But it was more of his own sense of needing to micromanaging everything that he’s tried to reinforce in you.  From the beginning, it was never meant to be that way, and even if you agree on some level, then think about it.  If Sesshoumaru had felt the compulsion to do it all himself, his way?  Then there would have been no need to appoint tai-youkai, in the first place.’

Frowning as he sat back, as he considered his youkai-voice’s words, he reached for the glass of vodka he’d poured on the way to the desk.  He hadn’t actually thought about it that way, and, of course, common logic told him that the world in general was far too vast of an area to govern alone.  Sesshoumaru had known this.  It was the entire reason why he’d opted to divide it all up into regions, in the first place, and, while Asia and its components were a far cry from the entire earth, the idea remained sound.  His father, somewhere along the way, had chosen to draw that power back in, but really, had he honestly done himself a disservice by doing so?

He had a few regencies without regents, thanks to challenges that had come in over the years.  The trouble there was that he had no one—literally no one—to ask to fill any of those.  Two of them were adjacent, so if he found someone to take the one, he could feasibly watch over the other for the time being.  It was a very big, ‘if’, though . . .

‘There’s Konstantin . . .’

‘He’s his father’s heir . . .’

‘Maybe.  But his father’s hale and hearty.  He’s not going anywhere, any time soon, so maybe he could just fill in till you find someone to take over permanently . . .’

The curt knock on the office door drew his attention, and he flicked his gaze over just in time to see Vasili step inside.  “Your Grace, Konstantin Korinovich is here and would like to have an audience with you.”

Rising from his seat, Fai frowned.  “Send him in, Vasili,” he said.  “Speak of the devil . . .”

The mink-youkai gave one nod-bow and slipped out of the office once more.  A few minutes later, the door opened again, and the hulking bear-youkai lumbered in with a very large earthenware jug.

“Your Grace,” he greeted, striding over to grasp Fai’s hand.  “Forgive the intrusion.  I was nearby, and you said . . .”

Waving off the formality, Fai led the way over to the sofa.  “Have you found out anything?”

Konstantin grunted, the sofa groaning slightly when his bear sat down, setting the jug on the floor beside him, leaning forward slightly, hands steepled before him.  “It’s not so easy, chasing a rumor,” he muttered, looking entirely discomfited by his perceived failure so far.  “Most of those I spoke with said that they’d heard things from someone else, somewhere else . . . No one held any concrete memories of anyone who claimed to know anything, first-hand . . .” He grimaced, a determination settling over his features.  “I won’t give up!  I swear upon my grandfather’s grave that I—”

“The odds that you’re going to be able to come up with the people responsible for any of the rumors isn’t very good,” Fai interjected since it was pretty apparent that he was riling himself up.  “I did have a favor to ask of you.  I know you’re your father’s heir to the Siberian regency, but I have no one there at present.  I know it’s asking a lot of you, but if you would agree, I’d like for you to take Tyumen and Omsk, just until I find something to take over those regencies permanently.”

Konstantin blinked, shot Fai an almost incredulous look.  “You would ask this of me?  After I issued you challenge . . .?”

Fai shook his head.  “It’s not really as big of an honor as you seem to think.  There are a couple of warring factions there that will need policing from time to time, and—”

Konstantin slipped off of the sofa and onto his knees, kneeling forward as he grasped Fai’s hand in both of his and ducked his head.  “Your Grace is such a benevolent man!  One such as I certainly doesn’t deserve such an honor!”

“Stop that,” Fai grumbled, yanking his hand back.  “For God’s sake, get up!”

For a moment, he didn’t look like he was going to comply, Finally, however, he did stand up, much to Fai’s relief.  Maybe it was just because of his memories of school days when the other boys would openly mock him, making fun of his title, his proper address.  It didn’t really matter, though, and, considering he was asking Konstantin for a favor, of sorts, then it seemed a little silly.

“I will not let you down, Your Grace!  You have my word, I am wholeheartedly devoted to you!  It is my duty—my honor—to serve you!” he went on, babbling more than Saori on a good day.

“I know,” Fai said in an effort to calm him.  “The regents’ cottegis are both staffed.  Choose whichever one you’d rather use, and I’ll close up the other for now.  I have it on good authority that both are very nice, so I’ll give you the keys to both . . .”

He started away, only to be stopped by the heavy thud behind him.  He turned, blinked, crossed his arms over his chest as Konstantin held out his hands in presentation of the earthenware jug that he’d planted on the coffee table.  Fai cocked an eyebrow.

“You are a great man—a fair and just tai-youkai—a benevolent ruler to our kind . . . but how mighty a Russian are you?”

“Are you challenging me?  Again?” Fai demanded.

Konstantin chuckled.  “Not your weak crybaby Demyanov brand,” he growled, uncorking the jug.  A moment later, the smell hit him.  Vodka, maybe, but highly, highly distilled—so much so that hit reeked of pure alcohol . . . “Family recipe—real man’s vodka!” he gloated, gesturing at the jug once more.  “If you can out-drink me, then you’re truly the best of men!” For added emphasis, he balled up his fist, thumped it heavily against his chest.  Picking up the jug, tipping it to his lips, the bear slugged down a healthy swing, unleashing a loud growl as he thumped the jug back down again.

‘Oh, I can’t see how this is a good idea, Fai,’ his youkai-voice warned when Fai stepped forward, grabbed the huge jug, steadied it with both hands.

‘Shut up.  He slighted the family brand,’ Fai growled back, carefully tipping the ridiculously heavy jug to his mouth.  From the moment it touched his lips, it burned—burned so bad it nearly brought tears to Fai’s eyes.  Somehow, though, he managed to swallow it without a change in expression despite the fire that burned all the way to his stomach and then some.  It was quite possibly the worst tasting vodka he’d ever drank.  Hopefully, Konstantin wouldn’t notice the tears that had formed in his eyes . . .


Flopping back on the sofa as the room spun around him in a blur that threatened to knock him out of his seat.  Konstantin was still attempting to do the Kazatsky—actually, the prisyadka part of it—which was not a simple thing to do when one wasn’t drunk, but the added alcohol made it that much worse.  Tipping back, falling flat on his ass, the Siberian laughed—great, ringing gales of laughter.

They’d already fought it out, arm wrestling, which, of course, went in the bear’s favor since his arms were about three times the size of Fai’s, chess, which neither of them won since they couldn’t focus on the pieces to move them without knocking out most of their armies.  Fai was declared the winner, though, since more of his pieces were still standing upright.  So, they’d moved on to dominoes—also impossible to play when one couldn’t rightfully see how many pips were on each piece.  Fai won that by about the same logic that awarded him the win in chess.  Then, somehow, they had ended up, trying to dance.  After falling on his ass a handful of times, Fai had opted to allow the big man the victory.

The jug of vodka was still almost half-full, but if he tried to drink more, there was a good chance, he’d be puking the rest of the night.  As it was, the old butler had peeked in on them, only to slowly shake his head as he left them alone once more.

“No good, no good,” Konstantin said, waving his arm from his place on the floor.  “We’re tied . . . We can’t have a tie!”

Fai stifled a groan as Konstantin pushed himself up slowly—and a little unsteadily—only to latch onto the jug once more and down a healthy swallow.  Seeing no way around it, Fai took the jug and did the same.  The world was swimming, and he could feel himself swaying, and there wasn’t any help for it . . .

Taking the jug back, Konstantin slammed it down on the table once more.  “Sparring!” he suddenly blurted.

Fai blinked a few times, head rolling back as he frowned at the ceiling.  “Sparring?” he echoed dumbly.

Konstantin grabbed his hand, hauled him to his feet.  “Show me the power of the tai-youkai!” he thundered.  “Vasili!”

The door opened, and the butler stepped into the room.  “You . . . bellowed, sir?”

“His Grace needs his sword,” Konstantin said, waving Vasili away with a flourish.

Fai wouldn’t really remember later, just how the two of them managed to make it outside.  He also didn’t remember how he ended up with Kamennyy-Nozh in his hands . . .


Saori stepped off the bottom stair, rounding on the landing to head down the hall toward Fai’s office.  After spending a lot of time, finalizing plans for the impending visits, she figured she ought to run everything past Fai, but he wasn’t in his office.  When she turned away, she spotted Vasili, who seemed to be on his way toward the kitchen.  “Vasili!” she called, stopping the butler in his tracks.  “Have you seen Fai-sama?”

A strange sort of look passed over his features, but it was gone as quickly as it had come, entirely too quickly for Saori to read it.  “I believe His Grace is in the back garden with Master Konstantin.”

“Konstantin?” she echoed.  “He’s here?”

The butler nodded.  “He challenged His Grace to a—”

She gasped.  “He—what?”

She didn’t wait to hear more, turning on her heel and taking off as fast as she could go.  Why on earth would Konstantin challenge Fai?  She thought that they had come to an understanding already, so why?

Busting through the doors, she dashed outside, only to skid to a stop, her brain freezing in an instant as Yerik stood, sword held high over his head in a stance that seemed just a little too familiar to Saori.  A split second later, he slammed the sword down, a flash of yellow fire, exploding from the blade as it blasted forward, as the two men who were lumbering toward each other were blown back a good ten feet, landing in sprawled heaps on either side of the yard.

She ran forward past Yerik, darting over to Fai’s side.  The Asian tai-youkai was slow to lit up, and when he did, the fool laughed.

“What are you doing?” she screeched, throwing herself against Fai’s chest as late tears of anxious worry squeezed out of her.

He caught her, managed to keep from falling over as he clumsily rubbed her back.  “We’re battling to see who the manliest Russian is,” he told her, his words slurred and hard to make out.

“You’re . . . what . . .?”

Yerik snorted.

“It’s fine, Saori . . . He couldn’t have beaten me.”

“I could have!  As soon as you stopped moving,” Konstantin slurred back in retort.

“That’s the dumbest—You’re both drunk!” she hollered.

Fai grimaced.  “A little,” he conceded, smashing a hand against his ear close to her.  “Not nearly enough to be beaten by . . . by . . .”

“The great and magnificent Kostya!”

“Him,” Fai finished.

“What if he had hurt you?” she screamed.  “What if he—?” And suddenly, it was too much for her, and, to her horror, she choked out a loud sob, smashing her hands over her face.

“Uh—Hey!  You . . . Don’t cry, Saori!  I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!  I swear, I won’t do it again!  Just stop crying!” Fai blustered, drawing her against his chest, clumsily rubbing her back once more.  “We were just going to spar; that’s all . . .”

Yerik sighed.  “Great.  If you two are done acting the fools . . .”

“And you!” Saori growled, abruptly pushing away from Fai to glower at Yerik, who blinked and glanced around, as though he didn’t understand just why she’d be so angry.  “You could have killed him!  Killed them both!  You can’t ago around, tossing something like the kaze no kizu like that!”  Suddenly, she stopped, blinked, narrowed her eyes.  “How do you know that?”

“Keh!  Leave ‘im alone . . . It’s the first decent one he’s done,” a growling voice called down from the tree.

“Thought you said that she wasn’t supposed to know we’re here, oyaji,” another voice that she knew said.

“Keh . . . Said we’d keep an eye on her till we were sure she’s safe, didn’t we?”

“And you think she is?”

“Stands to reason.  Ain’t no way her mate’s gonna hurt her—himself, maybe.  Damned baka.”

Ryomaru laughed, dropping out of the trees, and held out his arms as Saori hopped up off the ground and dashed over to hug him tight.