InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity Zero ❯ The River ( Chapter 8 )

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

“Do you think flowers would taste as good as they smell?”

Blinking at the latest in a long line of strange questions Jester had asked since they’d set out once more, still searching for the elusive Blackened Tears, Sesshoumaru wasn’t entirely sure whether he ought to answer this question or not.  “You are not going to eat them to find out, are you?”

Jester chuckled.  “Well, no-o-o-o-o,” he drawled, which, in Sesshoumaru’s opinion, meant that he really had been considering doing it.  “I suppose that it would look a little odd.”

To Sesshoumaru, Jester sounded almost as though he hoped that he would disagree with the conclusion.  “We had to stop earlier because you wanted to catch some fish,” he reminded the entity.  “You said that you wouldn’t ask to stop again for the rest of the day if we did.”

“I know,” Jester remarked, sounding rather wistful.  “I’m not asking . . .”

Sesshoumaru let it go at that as they continued on in silence. They were nearing a village—he could smell the humans, even if they hadn’t gotten close enough yet to see any of the huts.  As long as Jester didn’t try to volunteer him to rid the place of any stray youkai, then he figured that it’d be good enough.  

The usual pattern was to find settlements, to ask questions of the locals.  Sesshoumaru had no issue in allowing Jester to do the majority of the talking, anyway.

“It looks like it’s going to rain.”

Sesshoumaru nodded slightly.  He’d noticed that earlier: the scent of the rains that were coming.  It was a certain kind of smell that only came at a time like this, one that he welcomed despite the thickening in the air, the humidity that had steadily risen all day.  Scents were easier to discern, too, as though they lingered in the wind a little better.

This region, he knew, was the area where many of the more peaceful youkai tended to settle.  The lands were richer and more fertile, making them more suitable for raising crops, and many of them had opted to live here, safe from the relative instability of the youkai wars that tended to break out in the more rugged areas.

Wolves, for example, tended to prefer the rockier terrain near mountains.  The neko-youkai weren’t necessarily the strongest, but they relied upon strength in numbers, and they gravitated toward the forested areas and the cover the trees provided.  The birds of prey tended to battle each other for domination in the mountains, as well, and the list went on.  But the youkai who tended to eat vegetation, who were given to being a more peaceful lot, had migrated here over time.  Some of them had even settled into villages, though they tended to construct high walls around their settlements, likely to keep out the prying eyes of humans.  There were, Sesshoumaru supposed, a few of the lesser predator-types that had also settled in and around this area.  It would be something impossible for them to ignore, given that there were so many of their prey in the vicinity, too . . .

And the dogs?  Well, they tended to be like Sesshoumaru: solitary beings who ruled over regions and were given to allowing those others to work out their own issues.

‘Not entirely true.  Your father, you know . . . He always took a far more hands-on approach to it than you ever have.’

‘And look where that got him.  It was that loathsome meddling that is the very reason he’s dead now, isn’t it?’

‘Do you think that?  Is that what you truly believe?  Your father always wanted you to carry on his legacy.  He wanted you to protect—’

‘This Sesshoumaru?  I will never be the keeper of others,’ he scoffed.  ‘Why should I?  There is no point.  Everyone dies.  Either one is strong enough to prevent that or one is not.  It is not my concern to worry over it when it has nothing at all to do with me.’

‘Is that right?  Then why, exactly, are we doing this now?’

Sesshoumaru didn’t answer that.  It wasn’t the same, not by a long shot.  Going out of his way to cut down those who endangered others?  No . . . But Kagura . . .

It wasn’t at all the same.

Or was it . . .?


“Lord Dog . . .!”

Stopping abruptly as they neared the river that eventually fed into the sea, Sesshoumaru turned, stared at the young otter that scampered onto the bank.

“You saved my tou-chan!” the otter blurted, his small body, erupting in an excited kind of tremor as he fidgeted near Sesshoumaru’s feet.  “You and InuYasha!”

Narrowing his gaze upon the child, Sesshoumaru started to turn away without a word, but stopped again when the water burbled and roiled.  A moment later, the young otter’s father rose up out of the river.  He bowed quickly and strode out of the water.  “Sesshoumaru-sama,” he greeted.  “I never got a chance to properly thank you for what you did for me . . .”

“What did you do for him?” Jester asked, leaning in far enough to mutter his question under his breath, just loudly enough for Sesshoumaru to hear him.

“Tenseiga chose to save you,” Sesshoumaru replied almost carelessly.  “I did not.”

“Even so, I—we—thank you,” the huge otter replied.

“Kanta, go tell kaa-chan that we have visitors.”

“We are simply passing by,” Sesshoumaru said as the young one—Kanta—darted back into the river again.  “We don’t have time to—”

“Do you know anything about a creature said to wake at midnight?” Jester interrupted.

“A creature that wakes at midnight?” he echoed, thoughtfully scratching his fuzzy chin.  “Well, there is the Night Reaper . . .”

“Night Reaper?” Sesshoumaru echoed.  “What is this thing?”

“That’s what they call it,” he explained.  “No one sees it, but sometimes, if it’s really quiet, you can hear it crying.”

“The Blackened Tears . . .” Sesshoumaru murmured.

“What’s that?”

Jester cleared his throat.  “The Blackened Tears,” he repeated.  “That’s what we’re looking for.”

The otter nodded slowly.  “Please, come,” he said, jerking his head toward the water.  “There’s another entrance, but it’s a good distance away.  I haven’t heard of these Blackened Tears, but maybe the elder has.”

Seeing no way around it, Sesshoumaru followed with Jester in tow.  Straight into the water, along the bottom of the river, it took a few minutes to reach the opening under the riverbank on the other side.  They surfaced in a small cavern where two other otters sat, playing a game of chance on a squat table near the thick wooden doors.

Kanta’s father nodded at the two as he led them past, ignoring the water, dripping from their clothes, their hair, until they had stepped inside the long corridor.  Pausing long enough to reach into a nondescript cabinet near the door, he pulled out a couple towels and handed them over.  “Sorry for that,” he said, grinning wide in a way that indicated that he really wasn’t sorry in the least, he boomed out a great laugh before leading them deeper into the cavernous corridor.

It was a network of chambers, dug deep underground.  In the distance, Sesshoumaru could hear the laughter and merriment of the otter clan.  There was a certain warmth in the place, despite the rather bleak surroundings.  It was . . . unsettling . . .

“Do you think the elder has any knowledge of the Blackened Tears?” Jester asked.

“I would hope so,” Sesshoumaru muttered darkly.

“The elder has lived here for a very long time,” Kanta’s father remarked without slowing his gait as he led them past a couple doorways.  “If anyone knows anything, he’d be the one.”

“Kaa-chan!  This is Lord Dog,” Kanta exclaimed as his father strode into the large chamber with Sesshoumaru and Jester behind him.  “He’s the one who saved Tou-chan with his sword!”

The female otter smiled wide, bowed deep.  “Welcome to our home, Sesshoumaru-sama!” she said, clasping her hands before her.  “I’ve wanted to thank you for what you did for so very long!”

“Lord Dog, did you bring InuYasha with you?  Or Shippou?” Kanta asked, scurrying over, dancing around Sesshoumaru’s feet.

“No, I did not,” he replied.  For some reason, the idea of saying that InuYasha was gone irritated him still.

Kanta’s ebullience waned slightly but did not disappear entirely.  “Oh . . . Lord Dog, would you tell him thank you for me again the next time you see him?”

He opened his mouth to inform the pup that it wouldn’t be possible.  He narrowed his gaze slightly and nodded once instead.

“InuYasha helped you with your father?” Jester asked, staring down at the young otter.

Kanta nodded enthusiastically.  “He did!  He tracked down his body so that I could put his head back on, but . . . but we were too late . . . and that was when Lord Dog used his sword to revive him!”

“Tenseiga compelled me to do so,” Sesshoumaru murmured.

Jester shot him a look, but the mask covered his eyes, so he couldn’t rightfully tell what, exactly, he was thinking, although if he had to guess, he would have said that the entity seemed . . . amused . . . “Then it’s a very good thing that Tenseiga willed it to be so.”

Sesshoumaru didn’t respond to that.

“Would you care for a drink?  We were just about to have dinner, if you’re hungry,” Kanta’s mother said.

“No,” Sesshoumaru answered.  “I would merely like to speak with the elder.”

“I’m hungry,” Jester piped up.

Kanta’s mother seemed very pleased by that, and she hurriedly led them over to the neat row of pillows arranged near the hearth where a blaze was already going.

She left them there and grabbed Kanta by the hand, telling him that she needed his help.  He didn’t grumble or complain, but he did cast a longing kind of look over his shoulder.

“Let me see if the elder is awake,” Kanta’s father said, turning on his heel and lumbering toward the doorway again.

Jester stood up long enough to remove the robe that was still drenched with river water.  Sesshoumaru blinked since it was the first time he’d seen Jester do that, watching in silence as Jester stepped around the table to hang the robe on a tall hook near the hearth that was put there obviously for drying out things.

He wore a pair of rather short, gray hakama, gathered at the bottoms around his calves and a pair of scuffed up brown boots with a simple brown happi emblazoned with Izanami’s mon: the Ame no Nuboko.  That he was dressed as little more than a peasant was strange.  Even so . . .

He sat back down, carefully tugging off his gloves and dragging his fingers through his tangled brown hair.  For some reason, it struck Sesshoumaru that something about the way he looked, from his stature, his hair, his clothing . . . All of it was designed not to draw undue notice, wasn’t it . . .?  And he had a feeling that it was done on purpose, too.

“You didn’t look like this in life, did you?” he asked when Jester sank back down.

Jester shot him a quick glance before turning his attention back to the fire once more.  “No,” he replied.  “I told you, this isn’t my body—just some random person who died recently—I think . . .”

Sesshoumaru wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that, but he supposed that it didn’t really matter.  “Then, why the mask?”

“It adds an air of mystery, right?”

Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes slightly.  He ought to have known that he wouldn’t get a real answer out of Jester, after all . . . “You look like a puppet,” he said, opting not to remark upon Jester’s flip response.

Jester chuckled.  “Well, in a way, I kind of am.”

“Are you?”

“You’re the one, pulling the strings, aren’t you?”

Sesshoumaru didn’t respond to that, but it didn’t matter as Kanta and his mother returned with trays, each holding a cup as well as a small earthenware bowl with assorted fruits and berries.  “Thank you!” Jester said, grabbing one of the nashi and biting into it with a low groan.

Sesshoumaru slowly shook his head and ignored the tray before him.  “Shameless,” he muttered under his breath.

“These are almost as good as sex,” Jester ventured, biting into the pear again.

He really didn’t deign to comment on that and could only be slightly relieved that Kanta’s mother had hurried away after delivering the refreshment, so she didn’t overhear Jester’s off-color commentary.

‘. . . Wow . . .’

‘Not.  A.  Word.’

‘But—’

&# 8216;Not one.’

His youkai-voice sighed.

He might have relaxed, too, except that he could feel Jester’s gaze upon him.  He refused to look at the entity, though.  “Sesshoumaru, can I ask you something?”

Somehow, Sesshoumaru had the feeling that, whatever it was on Jester’s mind, he really didn’t need to hear it.  “No.”

“But—”

R 20;No.”

“But if you have a lover, then would she happen to have a sister . . .?”

Sesshoumaru’s answer was a sidelong glower and no words at all.

Suddenly, Jester sat up a little straighter, mouth rounding in an ‘oh’.  “Kagura!  She was your—”

Before he could finish his thought, Sesshoumaru dug the black stone from behind his armor and closed his fingers over it: his intent to crush it into dust quite clear.

“All right; all right!  No more questions,” Jester blurted, then sighed as he turned his attention back to the pear once more.


“So, you want to know about the Night Reaper,” the aged otter mused as he sat heavily upon the small, flattish pillow.  His mate was already seated beside him, her expression kind and gentle, though she remained silent.  “Well, to be honest, I’m not sure it really exists.”

“What do you know of it?” Sesshoumaru demanded, lifting a hand to dismiss the food that Kanta’s mother started to place before him—raw fish, other assorted seafood, strange greens.

“Thank you,” Jester murmured as the she-otter-youkai set a heaping tray before him.

The old otter scratched his chin as he considered Sesshoumaru’s question.  “They say it lives in the swamp just south of here.  They say that it lures wayward travelers to their doom.  No one lives there.  It ain’t fit for man nor beast, y’see?”  Leaning forward, he stared intently at Sesshoumaru, black eyes igniting with a strange inner fire.  “They say that the Night Reaper’s song will capture you—will draw you in—and no one that ever was lured to it has ever been seen or heard from again!”

Jester frowned, picking up a spiky and strange looking creature from the assortment before him, taking his time as he carefully inspected it from every angle.  “So, it’s like a . . . a land siren or something?” he mused, almost more to himself than to Sesshoumaru or the elder otter.

The otter slowly shook his head.  “They say that its tears, though . . . They say if you can get its tears that they can heal any ailment!”

“The Blackened Tears,” Sesshoumaru murmured.

“Am I supposed to eat this whole thing?” Jester suddenly piped up, holding the sea urchin out in one hand.

Kanta broke into a loud round of giggles.  “You break it open and eat the insides!” he said, demonstrating by doing just that.

Jester frowned thoughtfully at the urchin in his hand, and he tried to mimic the pup’s method.

“So, the swamp is directly south of here,” Sesshoumaru said, ignoring Jester for the moment.

The elder otter nodded.  “Look for the dead tree in the center of the marsh—if you’re really of a mind to go there—but don’t say I didn’t warn ye!”

Sesshoumaru started to open his mouth to say something, but stopped, mouth agape, eyes flashing to the side, as Jester grabbed hold of his hand, poking out his index finger, jamming it deep into the sea urchin’s spiny body.  Catching the look as he used Sesshoumaru’s claws like a makeshift knife, he shrugged.  “This body doesn’t have claws—and I think they might be poisonous,” he said in way of explanation when Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes in silent warning.  “You’re immune to poison—right?”

Yanking his hand away, Sesshoumaru uttered a terse grunt.  “Get a knife, Jester,” he growled.  “Besides, you’re already dead, aren’t you?  So, it won’t matter if you’re poisoned or not.”

Jester snorted.  “In theory, yes, but I’d rather not test it, thanks,” he growled, making a face as he chewed the urchin thoughtfully.  “This isn’t nearly as good as I was hoping,” he replied, completely ignoring Sesshoumaru’s irritation.

‘Just . . . let it go, Sesshoumaru . . . We need his help, remember?’

‘Do we?  Do we, really . . .?’

His youkai was silent for a moment, obviously considering the validity of the claim.  ‘Well, I doubt Izanami would have sent him along if we didn’t . . .’

Sesshoumaru stifled an inward sigh before turning his attention back to the elder otter once more.  “Your assistance has been invaluable,” he said.

“If you’d like, I could . . . could lead you there,” Kanta’s father offered.  Sesshoumaru didn’t miss the slight hesitation, though he didn’t remark upon it.

“We’ll find it.  Come, Jester,” he replied.  He started to rise to his feet, but Jester shook his head slightly.

“Oh, please, finish your meal!” Kanta’s father insisted, waving a hand at the trays before them.  “It’s the least we can do for the one who saw fit to save my life!”

Settling back down, Sesshoumaru did not reach for the food.  Jester, however, kept eating . . .