InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity Redux: Vivication ❯ Disorderly Conduct ( Chapter 44 )

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

Shuffling into the bedroom with a long, low groan, Fai rubbed the small of his back, furiously trying to rid himself of the overwhelming stiffness that had set in about an hour after the unexpected training session had begun.

Oh, he supposed that it had all started innocently enough.  Sitting around the table on the enclosed patio off of the dining room, enjoying a strong cup of coffee and trying not to let his head explode from the lingering hangover that he’d woken up to, he was minding his own business—happily so.  For once, he’d allowed Olga, the head of the kitchen, to make breakfast since he’d opted to spend a good hour, standing under the flowing shower tap, instead.

He was feeling a little better when he’d finally stepped out onto the patio.  Then he’d remembered a moment too late that he had guests he hadn’t counted on.  InuYasha and Ryomaru were seated at the table with Saori and Yerik.  Konstantin hadn’t stumbled in till a few minutes later, and it was something that Fai still couldn’t quite believe.  The bear-youkai looked absolutely fine.  He’d left shortly after breakfast, assuring Fai that he would assume his post immediately, but that he certainly wasn’t finished, trying to ferret out the rumors.  Then he’d promised that they would resume their ‘manly battles’ the next time he came to report in.

Fai wasn’t entirely sure that that was a good idea, but he’d nodded as he watched Konstantin go.

During breakfast, however, Saori had mentioned that her beloved great-uncle and uncle who was actually a cousin, but she called him, ‘uncle’ since he was so much older than her had been secretly training Yerik—which accounted for the heavy bruising that Fai had seen.  Somehow, the subject had come around to Fai and what he did or didn’t know, as far as his sword skills were concerned.

And then, it was decided that Fai would never be able to truly protect Saori unless he improved his skills—never mind that he’d already won so many challenges in his lifetime . . .

Which was why he was sore as hell and pretty unhappy about it.  Those two weren’t nearly as interested in training him as they were in simply batting him around, and if he’d thought that Tetsusaiga was fearsome, he’d quickly come to realize that Ryomaru’s sword— Ryoteishuseishu—was nothing to scoff at, either.  If he’d been smacked by the twin swords once, he’d been smacked at least twenty times, but it was the one shot he’d taken from InuYasha’s Tetsusaiga that had left him, seeing stars—and was the reason why he hurt like hell now . . .

Letting out a heavy sigh as he pushed into the bathroom, he blinked at the full tub, the steam rising and perfuming the air with the herbs and stuff that had been added to the water—perfect for a good soak.

He’d just settled into the bath with an involuntary hiss, ignoring the trace overflow that slipped over the rim, spilling out onto the floor where it funneled down the drain under the claw-footed tub when a soft knock sounded on the doorframe.  He knew who was there without opening his eyes, and he smiled a little wanly.  “Come in.”

“You’re supposed to dodge Tetsusaiga,” Saori remarked as she knelt next to the tub.

He snorted.  “You don’t say . . .”

She giggled, reaching over, tousling his hair.  The action unearthed a half-forgotten memory, and he frowned.

“You’re going to get all wrinkly if you stay in there much longer, my ruypka . . .”

Three-year-old Fai giggled, splashing water at his mother.  “Mama!  When I get big, I wanna be a fish!”

She laughed and leaned in to kiss his cheek, ruffling his hair . . .

Her laughter lingered in the air long after the memory faded.

Catching Saori’s hand, he gave her a little tug.  She shrieked and giggled as she toppled over the edge of the tub, directly into Fai’s lap, sending another splash of water over the edge.  Clothing drenched, hair half-wet, half-dry, she giggled more as he wrapped his arms around her to keep her from hopping out of the tub once more.  “My mother used to sit in here with me while I bathed,” he told her.  “She used to call me her ruypka . . .”

“Her little fish?” she asked, settling against him.  “That’s so sweet!  Your mother sounds really great,” she went on, her voice taking on a slightly sad kind of lilt.  “I wish I could have met her . . .”

“I wish you could have, too,” he said.  “She would have . . . have liked you a lot . . .”

She made a face then turned her head to hide against his chest.  “Then again . . . I don’t think she would have liked that I . . . appropriated her son . . .”

Fai sighed, carefully pulling her hair back out of the way.  “She probably would have thought it was amusing, actually,” he admitted.  “She always thought my father worked too much, too.”

Daring a peek up at him, Saori blinked, smiled a little timidly.  Eyelashes spiky from the wetness, cheeks flushed just the tiniest bit, she bit her bottom lip as her eyes reflected the afternoon sunshine, filtering through the western windows.

Shifting his arms so that he could lift his hand, stroke her cheek, he tried to smile at her, but for some reason, that smile wouldn’t come.  As though that kind of expression simply wasn’t right for the moment.  Staring into her eyes, he was struck by just how very precious she was to him—like the rain or the sun, the wind or the snow . . . And the humbling feeling that somehow, this woman . . . She belonged with him.  Opening his mouth, he meant to tell her, to let her know just what he was thinking, but he just couldn’t speak.  The words didn’t seem to want to come.  It frustrated him, and yet, even as he thought about it, she reached up, grasped his wrist, and he knew that what he felt . . . She felt it, too . . .

Leaning down, brushing his lips over hers, tasting the sweetness of her, feeling the tempering peace in her youki . . . She shivered slightly, but she wasn’t cold.  Content to relax in his arms, it seemed, nestled against his chest with her feet up over the side of the tub, completely ignoring the impromptu drenching . . .

She sighed against his lips, her hand, holding onto his wrist, caressing him with gentle fingertips. It was something beautiful and wanton and free—something so liberating, and he only found it in her.

She shifted, pulling her legs into the tub as she let her knees fall on either side of him, rising up slightly, her hands lifting to his cheeks, her fingers splayed over his skin as she took possession of the kiss.  Her scent was blunted by the water, but the passion that rose in her was not.  It spiraled in her youki, twisting around his, drawing his out—a perfect synchronicity, a perfect heartbeat as the warmth of her kiss shot through him.

Parting his lips, he allowed her whatever she wanted—anything she was willing to take from him.  The sweetest touch of her tongue against his both soothed him and shot through him by turns.  She sighed into his mouth, and he caught her breath, kept it, made it his own before giving it back to her again.

Pressing her body against his, she uttered the softest moan.  Sliding his hand up under her blouse, massaging her back as he held her close, he couldn’t help the small groan that escaped him: the brush of her flirty little skirt, her thighs against the part of him that ached the most, that yearned for her in ways that he could barely comprehend . . .

She shuddered, shivered, clung to him as though she were afraid to let him go.  Hands slipping up her back until he reached the intrusion of her bra strap, he reached higher, rubbing her shoulders, wrapping his hands up over them, holding her to him.  She arched against him, letting her head fall back, eyes closed, cheeks flushed, every last inch of her, trembling, quivering.  Letting his lips fall to her throat, he uttered a terse half-bark.  Her answer was a soft little whimper . . .

A loud throat-clearing from Fai’s room interrupted the moment, and Fai had to tamp down the irrational surge of utter rage that shot through him.  “Yes?” he called, unable to repress the terse quality in his voice.

“Pardon me, Your Grace.  Master Evgeni is here and bids an audience with you,” Vasili called.  From the sound of his voice, he was just inside the doorway.

Fai sighed as Saori snuggled against his chest.  He’d much rather stay here with her, but somehow, he didn’t think that he ought to ignore Evgeni . . .

“Tell him I’ll be down shortly,” he called back.

“Very good,” Vasili replied.

A moment later, he heard the click of his door, and he sighed again.  “Horrible timing,” he muttered, sparing a moment to kiss Saori’s forehead.

She giggled, but it sounded a little rough, a little husky.  “I should tell him thank you for inviting me to the Ivan Kupala celebration,” she remarked as she stood up and climbed out of the tub, making a face at her sodden clothing.  She handed him a towel before grabbing one for herself.

He stood up and stepped out of the tub, too, taking the towel she held out to him as he shook it out.

“I came up here to rub your back, but . . . Oh . . .”

He glanced at her when she trailed off, only to do a double take.  She was staring at him, wide-eyed, cheeks flushed prettily.  Glancing down at himself, he sucked in a sharp breath since he’d actually forgotten that he was entirely naked—and that his body had yet to get the message that things had to be put on the backburner, as it were . . .  “Uhh . . .” he blurted, quickly wrapping the towel around his hips.  “Sorry . . .”

She choked out a raspy sort of giggle that still managed to retain a level of shakiness, too.  “Well, I mean . . . You . . . You were in the tub . . . I shouldn’t have . . . have been staring . . .”

Fai said nothing as he took her towel, as he slowly dabbed at her face, her neck, before draping the towel around her shoulders.  “The only thing that I regret is that you were dressed when I pulled you in,” he remarked in a quiet rasp as he drew her close once more.  “Feel free to let me know when you’re ready to take your bath . . .”

“Y-You’re kind of . . . bad . . .” she murmured, her gaze falling to his lips as her already pinkened cheeks darkened a few degrees more.

He chuckled, holding onto her for another few moments before finally letting his arms fall away.  “You could always wait in the tub for me while I get rid of Evgeni,” he suggested as he headed out of the room, half wishing that she would take him seriously.

‘Yeah, but you know, something as important as claiming your mate?  You might not want to do that in the tub . . .’

Yanking open the close door, Fai let out a deep breath. There were worse places than a bathtub, too, he supposed . . .

‘True as that may be, you want it to be a memorable moment, don’t you? If not for you, then for her . . .’

“For her, huh,” he murmured to himself, grabbing the first pair of slacks he laid hands on.  But what, exactly, would be memorable enough for Saori . . .?


Stepping into the office where Evgeni waited with a glass of vodka, Fai straightened his collar.  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, striding past Evgeni to slip behind the desk.

The griffon-vulture-youkai raised an eyebrow at Fai’s still-damp hair.  “A shower in the middle of the day, Fai?” he asked mildly, golden brown eyes shining as he slowly shook his head.

Fai shrugged.  “I was training,” he explained.

Evgeni’s frown darkened.  “I sensed a couple unknown youki when I arrived,” he ventured.  “Visitors?”

“You could say that,” Fai replied.  “You’re not here to discuss them, are you?”

The smile that quirked Evgeni’s lips was rather tight, a touch condescending . . . “A little bird tells me that you and your . . . assistant, is she?  Employee?  Secretary—?”

“Saori, you mean,” Fai interrupted.

The indulgent little smile widened slightly.  “Yes, her,” he went on.  “Awfully careless, isn’t it?  Kissing her where anyone can see?  Is she . . . special to you?”  Waving a hand in blatant dismissal, Evgeni uttered a rather incredulous laugh.  “Forgive me, Fai . . . You went to such lengths to tell me that she was . . . nothing at all to you.”

“Last time I checked, my personal life isn’t really anyone else’s business,” Fai remarked rather dryly.  “Unless she’s the reason you’re here?”

“No, actually.  I simply wonder, though, what you know about her—her people?  As much as you may not like it, your position is precarious, at best.  Is it really a good idea to bring someone else into it before you’ve gotten a better handle on it?”

Frowning at the things that Evgeni put forward, Fai slowly shook his head.  “Her people are fine,” he said mildly.  “As for my position?  I daresay a tai-youkai is never fully out of harm’s way, so if I live my life, worrying about what’s around any given corner, then what’s the point?  As someone who professes to be my friend, I would think you’d be happy for me . . .”

Evgeni nodded, rubbing his forehead in a thoughtful kind of way.  “You’re right, of course.  I simply worry about your well-being; that’s all.”

Satisfied that he’d made his point, Fai relaxed slightly—and let the subject of his relationship with Saori drop, too.  “Okay, so, why did you make the trip down here?”

Evgeni drained the glass and stood up to fetch a refill.  Holding up the empty glass, he shot Fai a questioning look.  Fai waved a hand since he wasn’t entirely sure that more liquor was really something he wanted to indulge in today.  “It’s nothing very important.  Ian MacDonnough contacted me, though.  Asked if I’d had a chance to talk to you about the sale of the European states to him?”

“I already told you, I’m not interested in selling any part of my jurisdiction to him or to anyone else . . .” Fai reminded him.

Evgeni shrugged, returning to his seat with the refilled glass once more.  “That’s what I told him, but I thought I’d ask one last time if you’re sure . . . It would help out immensely, wouldn’t it?”

“Everything is under control,” Fai said.  “Even so, if he’s that interested, then he should feel free to contact me; not you.”

“Well, I think that he believes that you’ll turn him down, flat.”

“Because I would,” Fai allowed.

“But if you only stopped, thought about his offer . . . The people are talking, Fai.  They know something isn’t right, and you’re not exactly forthcoming with them regarding the state of affairs . . .”

Fai nodded slowly.  “That reminds me.  I do have something I wondered if you could look into for me.”

“Oh?”

“Seems that there have been a lot of rumors of late—rumors that might have a small measure of truth to them, even if the whole thing is completely taken out of context.  I need you to check into it for me.  I want to know where these rumors are coming from—and I want it stopped.  It’s making the regents even more uneasy . . . Rumors that I’m going to remove them—dismiss them.  I want to know where they’re coming from.”

Evgeni looked surprised for a few moments.  Then he frowned.  “You want me to go chasing down rumors and ghosts?”

Fai shrugged.  “You have good connections, don’t you?  You said before that you’d do whatever I asked of you.”

Evgeni nodded, though he still didn’t look particularly pleased.  “As you wish, of course,” he replied.

Fai sat back, pretending to listen as the vulture-youkai veered off onto another topic entirely.  Something about Evgeni’s agitation when it came to the subject of Saori bothered him, as though he didn’t trust Fai’s own judgement on the matter—like he didn’t trust . . . her . . .? That was ridiculous, though, wasn’t it?  Evgeni had no reason to distrust her.  He’d only met her a couple of times and hadn’t spent much time talking to her, anyway.  Either Fai was reading way too much into it, or something just didn’t feel right . . . Fai just wasn’t sure, why . . .


Stepping off the bottom stair as she flipped her long hair over her shoulder, Saori couldn’t help the secretive little smile that quirked her lips as she considered those stolen moments with Fai in the bathroom.  It was enough to bring a hint of color to her cheeks as she bit her lip and smoothed the skirt she’d changed into.

The click of heavy footfalls down the corridor that led to Fai’s office drew her attention, and she glanced up in time to see Evgeni.  He seemed to be heading toward the door, and Saori stopped, called out to him as he started to walk past her.  “Evgeni-san,” she said, hurrying forward, offering him a polite little bow.  “I wanted to thank you for your hospitality . . . I had such a good time, and I enjoyed meeting your lovely wife.”

The vulture-youkai narrowed his eyes slowly, stared at her hard, as though he were trying to figure out something about her.  “Tell me, Saori.  What is it you’re after?  A stake in the Demyanov fortune—there isn’t one, by the way.  Or does the idea of being married to a man of power appeal to you?”

Shaking her head as she stepped back once in retreat from the malevolence in his youki that suddenly spiked, that came at her, as though to subdue her own.  “I . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she blurted, unsure why she felt the need to defend herself, unable to stop herself from doing it.

“Oh, I think you do,” he went on, his voice dropping in timbre and pitch as he took one step toward her, his heel cracking like gunfire in the silence.  “Perhaps you’ve fooled Fai with your pretty face, your . . . charms . . .”

She shook her head again, feeling pathetically bare in the man’s hateful gaze.  “I—”

“Run home, little puppy,” he growled, leaning in close, the hostility in his youki, stunning, hurtful.  “Do it now, while you can.”

She was shaking slightly by the time he turned and let himself out of the castle.  Reaching out, steadying herself against a nearby table, she shook her head, tried to make sense of Evgeni’s foul words.

He thought that she was using Fai?  To what end?

Taking a minute, drawing a few deep, steadying breaths, Saori stood there, staring at the front door, wondering just what she could have done to make the man hate her so very much . . .

The only answer was the steady and rhythmic tick of the old grandfather clock as it marked off the seconds, as those seconds stretched out into a minute, into two . . . No matter how she tried to reason it, there weren’t any real answers.  Evgeni’s rage, his wrath . . .

She didn’t know why.