InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity Redux: Vivication ❯ Vivication ( Chapter 72 )

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

Saori shuffled down the hallway, eyes glued to her phone as she fired off texts, confirming the last-minute arrangements for the regents’ brunch.  Even before she reached the stairs, she could hear the din below.  The caterers had already arrived and were bringing in food while the tents and tables were being set up outside.  Eleven regents and their families . . . All of them had committed to attending, and they’d be arriving in a couple hours.

To be honest, she was pretty exhausted.  She’d thrown the entire thing together in less than a month, and that, along with the work that she tried to oversee on the new orphanage being built less than ten miles away, took up a lot of time and energy, to the point that she had to admit that she couldn’t wait for the brunch to be over, for her life to slow down just a little bit.

Fai was going to give a speech, outlining his ideas for the regents, what he expected of them, what he hoped would come from it all, what his plans were for how he wished to proceed, and then Saori had asked Director Bostoyev to give a presentation on the new orphanage.

After that, she’d hired a string quartet to play for entertainment while everyone was encouraged to mingle and get to know each other.  It sounded simple enough, but she’d gone to great lengths to make sure that everything promoted an open, friendly atmosphere.

“Saori, it looks like they’re setting up for the circus out there,” Yerik remarked, falling into step beside her at the top of the staircase.

“Oh, you’re back!” she exclaimed.  He’d been sent out on a hunt, and she hadn’t known if he’d return in time for the brunch or not.

“Late last night,” he replied.  “I thought I’d sleep in, but, well . . .”

She made a face, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear.  “Sorry about that.”

He chuckled.  “It’s fine.  As long as I can get some coffee, I’ll be good.”

“I could ask them to keep it down if you’d rather go back to bed,” she offered.

He waved off her concern with a good-natured grin.  “I’ll sleep in tomorrow.”

Saori grinned.  “You sure?  I mean, there are going to be some girls here—and you’re quite a catch, you know?”

He rolled his eyes but chuckled.  “God forbid, Saori . . . and you’d better not encourage it, either,” he warned.

“Okay, okay,” she relented.  “But if someone should ask me . . .”

“No,” he reiterated.  “I’m far too young to settle down, anyway.  Direct them toward Rinji.  He can handle it, I’m sure.”

Saori laughed as Yerik stepped away, heading through the foyer toward the kitchen, probably searching for the aforementioned coffee.

To her surprise, Fai had asked Rinji if he would act as regent for one of the vacated areas, and even more surprisingly, her brother had accepted, at least, until a permanent one could be named.  Fai, however, didn’t seem to be in a hurry to look for another, and Rinji didn’t seem to mind, either.  That only left three regencies open—four, if one counted Konstantin’s since he was technically heir to the Siberian regency.  Then again, Konstantin had mentioned that his parents were considering having another child, which could mean that he could stay where he was if his parents did have another son.

She was about to head toward Fai’s office to see if she could drag him out of there, but she frowned.  She could feel his presence, and it wasn’t coming from that direction, and she turned and followed Yerik, instead.

She found Fai in the kitchen, slowly examining the dishes that were arriving.  Pausing here and there to taste things, he had a thoughtful scowl on his face, and she pressed her lips together to keep from laughing outright.

“Does it meet your approval?” she asked, sidling up beside him as he continued his inspection.

He grunted.  “The lamb is good.  The borsht is salty.”

“But it doesn’t have kelp,” she quipped.

He snorted.  Loudly.  “Perhaps you don’t realize this, Saori, but every Russian house is judged on their ability to make good borscht.”

She rolled her eyes.  “I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Fine is not great,” he insisted.  “Maybe I have time—”

“You will not,” she told him firmly, shaking her head to emphasize her point.  “You are not going to stress out over borscht.  I forbid it.”

Cocking an eyebrow at her, he slowly turned his face toward her, his hazel eyes sparkling in an almost lazy kind of way.  “Is that right?”

She nodded once.  “That’s right.  Besides, you should enjoy yourself today, too.”

He replied with a heavy sigh as he slipped his arms around her instead.  “There’s a reason I don’t host things like this,” he told her.

“You’ll be fine,” she assured him.  “Is that what you’re wearing?”

He blinked, leaned back to glance down at himself before cocking an eyebrow at her.  “Is there something wrong with this?”

She laughed since he was wearing the same, standard dark slacks and button-down shirt he normally wore.  “I suppose casual is good,” she allowed.  “But I bought a special dress for the occasion—nothing fancy, but nice, so you might look a little—”

He rolled his eyes and kissed her quickly to cut her off.  “All right,” he relented.  “I’ll put something nicer on . . .”  Trailing off, he narrowed his gaze and jerked his head.  She turned to see who he was gesturing at, only to see Yerik, clad in a rumpled pair of faded jeans and a baggy black tee-shirt, leaning against the counter with a mug in one hand and a carafe in the other, slugging back the brew as fast as he could.  “Did you tell him he had to change?”

“I didn’t tell you that you had to,” she pointed out.

He snorted.  “Did you?”

Saori giggled.  “I didn’t,” she told him.  “But he’s not tai-youkai—you are.”

Heaving a longsuffering sigh, Fai held onto her for another moment before letting his arms drop away.  “Well, then, allow me to go change so that I don’t embarrass you, Your Grace.”

She laughed and hurried after him to change her clothes, too.


“Your Grace!  Thank you so much for inviting us to your home!”

Fai smiled at the golden-langur-youkai—one of the Chinese regents.  “I’m glad you could make it,” he replied.  “I . . . I vaguely remember you from one of Mother’s parties years ago . . .”

The regent—Huang Jian—smiled broadly, obviously pleased that Fai remembered him at all.  “Your mother . . . Her Grace was an honorable woman, indeed.  We were all very saddened to learn of her untimely death.”

“Thank you,” Fai said.

He had to admit, borscht aside, that the brunch was entirely well-received.  The general tone overall was good, especially given that he’d half-feared that it would end up badly.  The regents seemed to be genuinely excited to be told of their inclusion in Fai’s tenure, and the first official discussion that he’d had with most of them was asking for their suggestions for regents in the vacated areas.  He might not take every one he’d gotten so far, but he’d look into them all.

It was a big step, wasn’t it?  Opening himself to trust these men . . . It went against everything that Fai had thought he believed, and yet . . .

“I brought this for you,” Huang said, drawing Fai’s attention out of his thoughts.  Handing him a sealed envelope, the man smiled.  “It’s the official report for this quarter—details regarding some youkai that are rumored to be troublesome, general information about the issues that are unique to my regency—that sort of thing.”

Fai nodded.  “I’ll look it over.  Thank you.  This should be very helpful.”

Huang bowed low.  “Of course, of course!  I’ve been documenting everything, as I’ve always done, so if you wish to see the older reports, I can send them, Your Grace.”

“Just Fai’s fine,” he said.

Huang’s smile disappeared, and he looked rather alarmed.  Fai stifled a sigh.  “Oh, I . . . I couldn’t . . . Your Grace, I—”

Fai nodded.  “If you’re more comfortable, addressing me with that, then it’s fine, but honestly, I’d prefer Fai.  Your Grace . . . That always felt more like my father.”

Huang still looked rather conflicted, but in the end, he nodded.

“Fai!  Hey . . . Uh, excuse me,” Yerik said, grasping Fai’s arm as he nodded at the regent.  “Thanks . . .”

Huang quickly moved away.  Yerik waited until he was out of earshot before turning toward his brother.  “I . . . need help . . .”

Fai sighed.  “Oh, God . . . What now, Yerik?”

Yerik made a face, dragged Fai inside.  Letting his hand drop from Fai’s arm, he grimaced, leaning to the side to peer through the French doors for a moment before finally meeting his brother’s gaze once more.  “It’s, uh . . . Fiancée Number Two . . .”

“Fiancée Num—What?” Fai blasted.

Yerik shushed Fai, glancing around almost feverishly to make sure that they weren’t being overheard.  “It’s not my fault, Fai!  Seriously, I mean . . . I was . . . maybe seven?  And she had cookies—real cookies.  I mean, her mother is American, and she made snickerdoodles . . .”

“Oh, for the love of—” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Fai slowly shook his head.  “So, go tell her you don’t want her cookies anymore, and that’ll be that,” he growled.

Yerik sighed.  “I wish!  She brought a slim-file with all her wedding ideas—wedding, Fai!  She’s even picked out my tuxedo . . .”

Staring at Yerik for a long moment, Fai finally shook his head.  “Well, Yerik, looks like you’re getting married, then.”

Yerik flinched.  “Damn my love of American cookies . . .”

Fai rolled his eyes as the door slid open and Saori stepped inside.  “Why are you two hiding in here?”

“Yerik’s getting married,” Fai said before Yerik could answer.

Saori blinked, glancing from Fai to Yerik and back.  “Again?”

Fai shrugged.  “Cookies.”

Saori nodded sagely.  “What kind?”

“Snickerdoodles.”

She continued to nod.  “I haven’t had those—wa-a-a-a-ait . . . Are those the ones that are rolled in cinnamon sugar before they’re baked?”

“God, yes!” Yerik exclaimed.

Saori gasped slowly, her eyes widening.  “Those are good . . . Gin-oba-chan made them once when we were visiting . . .”

“Look at it this way, Yerik.  At least you’ll get cookies from your future wife,” Fai pointed out reasonably.

Yerik groaned.  “You realize, don’t you?  Your chances of winning the Brother-of-the-Year award is fading faster and faster and faster.”

Fai shook his head.  “And yet, I don’t care,” he shot back.  “Go out there and tell her that you no longer want her cookies.  Be a man.”

Yerik heaved a very put-upon sigh and stomped back outside as Saori covered her twitching lips with her slender fingers as she watched his retreat.  “That was mean, Fai-sama,” she remarked rather mildly.

“Cookies,” he grumbled, shaking his head as he watched his brother, skulking around, apparently trying to avoid Fiancée Number Two.  “Sama?”

Saori nodded solemnly, which was then promptly ruined when she giggled.  “You’re not really going to let your brother suffer, are you?”

This time, Fai sighed again.  “I should.  I mean, I really should.  Just why would he go around, asking girls to marry him?”

“I think it’s rather cute . . .”

He snorted.  “You would.”

Slipping her arm around his waist, she sighed, but it was an entirely contented kind of sound, and she leaned her temple against his chest.  “I was thinking . . .”

“Hmm?” he prompted when she trailed off, idly rubbing her bare shoulder as he continued, staring outside.

“It’s just . . . I’m . . . I’m really happy, you know?  With you . . . Happier than I ever thought I could be . . .”

Frowning slightly at the slightly roughened quality of her voice, Fai leaned back far enough to look at her face.  She wasn’t smiling, no, but her blue-grey eyes were bright—beautiful.  Pale skin, touched with just the barest hint of color, rouged lips, quivering just a little, and she smiled at him.  “You’re happy with me.”

She nodded.  “I was thinking, you know?  What if . . .?  What if I hadn’t . . . appropriated you?  Do you think we’d have found each other then?”

“I . . . I don’t know.  I’d like to think so.”

Her smile widened.  “Me, too.”

It was true, wasn’t it?  Saori . . . She was meant to be here—here with him . . . She’d changed him, hadn’t she?  Without really trying . . . Maybe it was simply the way that she lived her life, the way she saw things in such a simple way . . .

Trust and love and understanding . . . She’d given those things to him—more than he’d ever really given to her, he was sure.  Those lessons . . .

But it was her smile, her laughter, the beguiling innocence that she wore like a second skin . . . Everything about her spoke to him, had ingrained themselves so deeply into him that he couldn’t remember a time before she’d come into his life, and everything about that . . . It was humbling and awe-inspiring and breathtaking and gentle.  She’d brought a vivication to his world that he hadn’t even realized he needed, and now . . .

He only stopped to think about it for a moment before he stepped back, grabbed her hand, dragged her through the foyer toward the stairs.

“Fai?  What are you doing?” she asked in a bemused tone, giving a token resistance that really wasn’t resistance, at all.

“They’ll never miss us,” he said without stopping, tugging her hand, pulling her after him, up the stairs.

“You can’t mean—!”

“I’ll make it quick,” he assured her.

She opened her mouth to protest, then smashed her free hand over her lips as she broke into a round of giggles.  “Well, I guess . . . if we’re quick . . .”

He laughed and paused long enough to kiss her—a sweet kiss designed to show her every single thing he felt—before resuming his trek up the stairs.  “Even if we’re not, we’re still newlyweds, right?” he asked, peering over his shoulder at her, cocking an eyebrow to emphasize his question.

She blushed prettily but didn’t try to pull away.  “Well, when you put it that way . . .”

He laughed and kept moving.  Saori did, too.