InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity Redux: Vivication ❯ Truth and Lies ( Chapter 67 )

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

“With all due respect, ojii-sama, might I insist that you get your ass moving?”

Sparing a moment to peer over at his impatient grandson, Sesshoumaru strode through the airport without missing a step.  “We’re going as fast as we can without drawing undue attention, Rinji,” he murmured just loud enough for Rinji to hear him.  He could understand his irritation, his frustration.  A freak storm that had rolled into Tokyo had prevented them from taking off as soon as they might have liked.  Seiji had been just as irritated, too, especially when Sesshoumaru had told him to go ahead on his business trip that would have been a nightmare to reschedule at this point.

Besides, there was no reason for Seiji to come along.  Truthfully, there hadn’t been a reason for Rinji to accompany him, either.  Sesshoumaru alone was more than capable of taking care of this little farce, and, given that Kagura and Aiko were already there, he didn’t figure that there really was anything to worry about.

No, it was more the simple irritation that someone would dare to lay hands on one of his own, especially a cherished granddaughter, that simmered just below Sesshoumaru’s calm façade.  It had little or nothing at all to do with the Inu no Taisho, but it did have everything to do with the ojii-chan . . .

“Damn it . . .”

“Calm yourself, Rinji.  As much as you might think otherwise, your sister is fully capable of holding her own,” he said, refreshing his grip on the long, narrow case held at his side.

“Except when it comes to Fai,” Rinji growled.  The edges of his youki were rough, frayed, harsh.  “No one’s ever that good at keeping a level head when it involves one’s mate.”

Sesshoumaru allowed that.  There was a good bit of truth in that, after all, and Sesshoumaru knew that as well as anyone.  Even so, Rinji’s own impatience spoke volumes.  A beloved baby sister, of course, and the young one had spent a lifetime, watching out for her . . . Still, Rinji needed to gain some perspective before he lost what was left of his own self-control . . .

“Again, I repeat, calm yourself.  Your mother and your grandmother aren’t far behind her.  Nothing will happen to Saori.”

“Easy enough to say, ojii-sama, but you know as well as I do that if Evgeni has backup, it may not be so easy—and he’d be a fool, not to have thought that through, too.”

“If he values his life, he won’t do anything hasty,” Sesshoumaru said.

Rinji snorted indelicately, shrugging the one large bag he’d brought along up onto his shoulder.  “What do you call having her kidnapped, in the first place?” he snapped back.

“A means to an end, Rinji: no more, no less.”

Rinji didn’t look like he agreed, but he gritted his teeth and swallowed whatever rebuttal had been forming on his tongue.

They wasted little time as they strode out of the main doors.  Once outside, they ducked into a niche built into the structure as Rinji yanked open the bag and handed Sesshoumaru his Mokomoko-sama before tugging out his own.  Rinji’s was more like Sesshoumaru’s—a long, boa-like piece, than Toga or Aiko’s were.  Toga’s was more of a shorter, wider version that he usually wore like a cape while Aiko’s was a very delicate one, much the same shape as Toga’s, that she secured around her waist, allowing it to trail out behind her . . . True enough, in this day and age, one rarely wore anything like that.  It wasn’t really necessary.  This time, though . . .

Sesshoumaru tossed the Mokomoko-sama over his shoulder before pressing his thumbs against the identilocks on the case he’d set down.  They released with a pair of soft clicks, and he lifted the lid, revealing three swords: Rinji’s Kiryuken, and his Tenseiga and Tokijin.  Rinji grabbed his and jammed the scabbard through his belt while Sesshoumaru did much the same.  As simply as that, the luggage lay, forgotten.  There wasn’t any help for that, given that he wasn’t about to waste time, securing a hotel room or anything of the sort.  He could easily replace both of those things, anyway, just as soon as they found and rescued Saori.

He glanced around one last time, making sure that they weren’t being watched.  Well out of the eyeline of anyone passing by, they both dissolved into energy form and took off, up and over, following the direction of Kagura’s lingering scent . . .

It was faded and a little more difficult to discern, but there, nonetheless.  He had little doubt that she’d taken her feather once she reached an area where it was safe to do so, and, if she had, then she’d likely also left a trail of markers to allow him to follow with ease.

Not that he couldn’t find her without such aids.  He could, simply by thinking about her.  It was a sense that had become second-nature over time . . .

Even then, however . . .

‘Wait for me, Kagura . . .’ he thought as they closed the distance as quickly as they possibly could.  It wasn’t that he believed, even for a second, that she couldn’t handle things well enough on her own.  It was more that, after all of the ugliness that she’d lived through—that she had even perpetrated, thanks to being nothing more than Naraku’s pawn—he’d promised her so long ago that she wouldn’t ever have to add to those feelings of regret, of recrimination, that she’d suffered in silence for such a long time . . .

And it was that thought that spurred him on faster, that goaded him as he and Rinji’s energy forms zipped over the land.


“How many?”

“Three on this side,” Aiko said.

Kagura nodded as the feather floated high above the Feodosiv estate.  “I’ve counted four over here.”

Aiko slowly shook her head.  “I don’t know, kaa-chan . . . That doesn’t seem right, does it?  After the way Stepanovich-san described it, this seems a little anti-climactic . . .”

“I sense more, but I’m not sure where they are,” Kagura allowed.

“Is that Feodosiv-san?” Aiko asked, nodding at the imposing youkai, striding toward the small building where Saori had been taken.  Taras was with him, slightly behind him, with a couple others following along.

“I believe so.  Shall we?”

Aiko nodded.  “Yes.”

Veering to the left to loop back around to the front of the estate, Kagura frowned.  She still wasn’t pleased with the idea of leaving Saori alone, even for a short amount of time, but Saori had insisted.  She wanted to ask some questions, and she felt that Evgeni might be more willing to answer as long as he believed he had the upper hand.  Kagura and Aiko, however, had thought that it would be a better idea to take out the patrols on the ground outside first.  It was sound reasoning, even if it felt entirely wrong . . .

They dropped to the ground, both of them, hopping off of the feather as it shrank back down to the pretty little decorative piece that Kagura caught between her fingertips and stuck back in her hair.  It had been such a long time since she’d truly walked into battle, but some things were worth the fight—something she’d learned a long time ago.

‘Focus, Kagura.  You can waltz down Memory Lane later, after you’re sure that Saori is safe, and all is as it should be.’

Sound advice, that . . .

Pulling her fans out of the inside pocket of her jacket, she could feel the hostile youkai coming closer—just one: a thunder-youkai . . .

“Who are you?” he demanded, whipping a gun out of a holster on his hip, bringing it up to aim at her.  “What are you doing here?”  A moment later, his eyes widened, even as he leaned his head to the side, training the gun directly at the center of her chest.  “You . . . You’re . . .”

Kagura flicked a fan open and, in the same motion, unleashed four wind blades.  They moved faster than the youkai, though, and he shrieked as one of the blades neatly cut off his hands.  They fell to the ground, still gripping the gun.  He followed a moment later, dropping to his knees as blood gushed out of the severed limbs.

His screaming alerted the others in the area, and they closed in fast—the other three that Kagura had seen from above—but this time, Aiko was ready, darting past them, extending her claws, glowing in a hazy green and knocking aside guns as they were being drawn, unleashing a steady fog of poison from her deadly claws.  The weapons fell away in a toxic wash of fumes that filled the air.  Some of the youkai who weren’t fast enough in dropping theirs, screeched as the metal heated instantly to a red-hot burn under the spray of toxin.

Kagura’s lip curled derisively as she examined the security detail.  Youkai, all of them, yet they all possessed guns?  “Pitiful,” she growled under her breath as Aiko drew up beside her again.  Her poison was much like her father’s, manifesting itself in a form of acid that melted pretty much everything wherever it touched, regardless of whether or not she’d broken skin or hit an inanimate object.  All she’d had to do was to spray them with it, which she had, in abundance.

One of the men, she’d sprayed directly in the face.  His skin seemed to be melting off of him, hanging from his skull in tattering strips that were rapidly dissolving in a sickening grayish smoke that carried the stench of rotting flesh.  Screaming, babbling, he started to grip his cheeks, but yanked his hands back as they made contact and started to melt, too.  Another one was trying in vain to yank off a shirt and jacket while the acid burned straight through it and into his skin.  The third one was trying to lumber away—no small feat when his right leg fell off at the knee, and he keeled over, sprawling on the ground.

The mingled screams, groans, gasps of pain and despair, however, were growing louder by the second, and Kagura shook her head.   “Fujin no Mai!” she commanded as she unleashed another blast of wind blades, silencing them all in a gust of unnatural wind.  By the time it died down, the youkai were gone, and all that was left were smoldering piles of molten metal that used to be their weapons.

“As impressive as ever, kaa-chan,” Aiko mused, a very grim smile, surfacing on her pretty face.

“You’ve been practicing your acid fog,” Kagura said, casting her daughter an approving half-smile.

“I’ve gotten better at regulating the amount and concentration, yes,” Aiko admitted.

“Good girl,” Kagura remarked.

Aiko cracked her knuckles as she slowly scanned the area, but so far, there was not one else approaching—yet.

“We’d better get moving before reinforcements arrive,” Kagura said.

Aiko nodded, and the two hurried toward the trees . . .


It was unnervingly quiet.

Saori said nothing as she watched Evgeni pace the floor.  The way he was prowling brought to mind a caged animal at the zoo.  As a rule, her family tended to avoid such things since they really felt wrong, to keep those animals in such a place, no matter how well they were taken care of.  Even so, she’d gone one time with some school friends, and she remembered how some of the animals—the predators—would prowl around, systematically looking for their escape that never came.

Just what was going through his head?  Easy to say that he thought he’d won—something . . . The overwhelming quiet was rife with hostility that seemed to linger in the air.  It was almost enough to make her want to scream, and she had to clamp her jaw tight to keep the sound in.

It was a battle of wills, wasn’t it?  As the minutes ticked away, she understood.  He was trying to get her to break, to make her crumble under the weight of the silence.

‘It’s all a game to him, isn’t it?  All of it, including Fai . . . That man . . . He’s evil, Saori.  You underestimated him.  In your mind, what you truly hoped—wanted more than anything . . . You . . . You wanted to save him.  You wanted to do that for Fai’s sake.’

‘I . . .’ Trailing off with an inward wince, her gaze following the pacing youkai, she gave a silent sigh.  ‘I guess . . . I think that’s what . . .’

‘But you understand now that you cannot, right?  You cannot reach him because whatever is in his mind, he thinks he’s right.  He thinks that what he’s doing is the right thing.’

She swallowed hard.  Yes, she supposed that maybe, that was the truth of it and had been from the start.  She came from a family of healers, didn’t she?  And maybe that was the real reason . . . For Fai, she’d hoped . . .

“Do you have any last words, Your Grace?”

Grinding her teeth together at the absolute venom he’d inflicted in the mocking tone of her proper address, she narrowed her eyes but did not waver, her gaze, bright and clear and openly curious.  “What do you want from me?”

Evgeni’s deep rumble echoed in the quiet as Saori glowered up at him.  She yanked against the handcuffs, gritting her teeth as the ofuda contained within the restraints on her wrists dealt her a healthy shock.  The ropes still held her tight, though.

“So, you managed to sink your claws into Fai after all, didn’t you?” he growled in a pleasant tone that was wholly at odds with the absolute loathing in his eyes that he didn’t try to hide from her.

“Why do you care who he marries?” she demanded.  “What does it matter to you?”

“Oh, it matters a great deal,” Evgeni snapped, leaning down, his face, mere inches from hers.  “You . . . You’ve ruined everything—everything!  Everything I’ve worked so hard to put in place, and you—you . . . A poor social worker, fighting for the orphans?  Guaranteed to play on Fai’s good-will, and it worked perfectly, didn’t it?  Did you find out everything you could about him to start with?  Research him like some kind of school project?”

“Why would I do that?” she countered calmly.  “Why were you so keen on closing the orphanage, anyway?  What did it have to do with you?”

Evgeni laughed—a bitter, hostile sound, his fangs flashing in the dimmed light of the room.  “Just another thing in the long line of his failures,” he scoffed.  “But you . . .!”

“Because you wanted him to fail.”  It was more of a statement than an actual question.

“Yes!”

“And why’s that?” she prodded when he trailed off.  “Just what are you trying to do?”

“He’s just like the rest of them!  Proud, arrogant, unwilling to be swayed,” Evgeni sneered, turning on his heel, pacing the floor before her as the edges of his youki flared, sharp and menacing.  “Damn you . . . Damn you!”

Saori shook her head.  Nothing he was saying made any sense to her.  He was dangerously close to mad rambling despite the calculated calm that he was struggling to attain.  She could feel it, couldn’t she?  His inner turmoil . . . He wanted to kill her.  She’d seen it in his eyes, felt it in his youki . . . “You kept the tai-youkai account from him,” she said, careful to keep her tone, even, almost conversational.  “Why?”

Evgeni grunted, laughed almost incredulously.  “Everything was planned out so carefully,” he hissed, spinning on his heel to glower at her.  “It took years—years!  And it was all there, all perfect!  It should have been a revolution, but no . . . Then you showed up—changed him.  And now, he cannot hear me anymore because you—”

“A revolution?  That’s what you’re trying to do?  If you wanted that kind of change, then why didn’t you just challenge him?” she countered.

“I am no fool!” Evgeni spat.  “There are many ways to lead a revolution, and those damned Demyanovs . . .”

“He’s too strong for you.  That’s why you chose to skulk around, to hide in the shadows, isn’t it?  You know that you cannot defeat him.”

It took him two long strides to reach her, and she saw the hit coming well before it landed, snapping her head to the side again, drawing fresh blood as an explosion of pain surged through her.  She didn’t make a sound, though—not a whimper, not a gasp—as she turned to face him once more.  “Killing me will kill Fai, of course,” she told him.  “But Yerik-kun will take over, and if you think he’ll ever, ever trust you, you’re wrong—and Yerik-kun is just as strong as Fai in his own way.”

Her words only served to enrage Evgeni just a little more, and he strode back, grasped her face in his hand, squeezing hard as his talon-like claws dug into her skin.  “Shut your pretty mouth,” he growled.

He was trying to cow her.  It didn’t work.  Jerking herself out of his grip, she leveled a cold stare at him and sat up a little straighter.  “You really need to stop and reconsider what you’re doing.  You might well be able to use me as leverage against Fai, but—”

His laughter cut her off.  “Use you against Fai?  Oh, I intend to.  Which do you think he’d rather keep?  His mate . . .?  Or the office of the Asian tai-youkai?”

Saori slowly shook her head.  “You have one chance to let me go, Feodosiv-san.  If you let me go right now, I won’t tell Fai what you’ve done.  If you don’t?  He’ll come for me, and when he does, you . . . Well, you’ll wish you’d rethought it.”

“You stupid little girl!  You dare try to lecture me?  Me?”

“I’m just pointing out what ought to be obvious,” she said.  “But you—”

A strange groaning sound outside interrupted her, growing louder, more ominous with every passing second.  Evgeni shot one of his cohorts a look, and the youkai fumbled for his phone, obviously to call out and see just what was going on outside, but the feel of the youki that infiltrated the small building was familiar to her—and angry as hell.

She knew what was coming, and she just managed to turn her head when the groan erupted in a howl, a gale force wind that slammed into the walls, blasted open the huge and hulking doors that exploded in a harsh barrage of splinters and dust.

Saori blinked, struggled to see through the mass of debris that rained down, the cloud of dirt that hung so heavily in the air.  Kagura, with Aiko by her side, strode into the building, and behind them, Rinji . . . and Sesshoumaru . . .

The streak and snap of a harsh green light split the cloudy air, wrapped around Evgeni, around his throat, dragging him forward as the whip retracted.  The griffon-vulture-youkai choked, wheezed, tried in vain to yank against the energy whip, but only succeeded in burning his hands as the stench of his charred flesh fast overrode everything else.

Narrowing his amber eyes as he allowed the vulture to drop to his knees before him, as he released him from the hold of his energy whip, Sesshoumaru glanced at Saori for the briefest of moments, his youki touching her, searching her for unseen injury, before shifting his gaze back to Evgeni once more.

Sesshoumaru’s expression didn’t change, but the blazing fire in his eyes was as apparent as the crackle in his youki.  He didn’t move, and he was not the one to speak.  Kagura stepped forward, tapping one of her fans against her palm, and what was going through her mind was anyone’s guess.  “Tell me, Feodosiv-san . . .” she said calmly, her husky voice, nearly a purr.  “Why do you smell like my granddaughter’s blood . . .?”