InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Seven Feudal Fairy Tales ❯ Chopsticks ( Chapter 27 )

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and other associated companies.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Chopsticks

 

 

The sliding door slipped open, interrupting their conversation with its soft scrape as it glided down the track. Two mermaids appeared, each with a small, concave tray shaped like a scallop shell in their hands. Balanced delicately on the shell's faintly rippled surface was a slender, ceramic bottle and beside it a shallow cup. They each paused by a traveler, gracefully tucking their tails beneath their bodies as they drifted down to kneel beside them. Gently, they set the warm bottles and cups onto the small tables, minding the still filled plates of food.

 

“The geishas have brought you a warm drink to compliment your meal,” the king spoke up as the mermaids finished settling themselves and waited expectantly for their guests to pick up their conical cup so that they may be served.

 

“Sake?” Kagome asked reluctantly, staring at the thin wisps of steam wafting from the narrow opening at the top of the bottle.

 

“Of course,” the Dragon King replied, bringing his pipe to his lips again. “I would serve you nothing but the best.”

 

“You won't have any?”

 

“No, I have not drunk a single drop since my brothers died. Its appeal dried up in those stone vats along with their blood.”

 

The school girl nodded in agreement, her sight lingering on her bottle as she considered the drink before her. She felt herself hesitate, yet it wasn't the idea of drinking sake that stilled her hand from reaching for her cup. Often in the Sengoku Jidai while they traveled from village to village in their hunt for the shards, she and the group would stay at an elder's home to rest and have dinner. In this time she was not a child, but a young woman and it would be rude of her to refuse the custom because in the future she was not old enough. Sake was a bit too strong and heavy for her palette, but it had a saccharine taste that appealed to her. Still, she thought, her eyes glancing up at the king. `So many years had passed and yet how much pain and anguish did he carry with him that even a sweet drink like sake would sour in his mouth now?'

 

“Are you not thirsty?” he questioned, his crimson eyes watching her curiously as she wavered. “Do not mind my opinions if they keep you from your drink.” She fidgeted under his gaze, tempted to pick up her cup and reassure him that all was well. That she wasn't thinking about how tragic and sorrowful his tale was and that the sake held no appeal to her either in the presence of someone who had lost so much at the expense of its potent flavor. She gazed back down at the bottle again, struggling to find a response, when the delicate pattern of blooming sakura branches and petals that graced it snared her interest and reminded her of someone who had been strangely absent from their discussion a moment earlier.

 

“Dragon-ou-sama,” she began, pleased with the honorific she had thought of, “You mentioned the deer and the emperor and their past, but not the tale that comes before your own. The story of The Old Man Who Made Withered Trees Bloom.”

 

“Hn,” the Dragon King snorted indignantly as disdain and venom trickled into his tone, “Why should I? You and that mutt that serves you already know that wretched dog's story. What more needs to be said?”

 

“M-mutt?” Kagome repeated, her confusion faltering her voice. The mutt that serves me? Then her eyes opened wide as she followed the king's disgusted look to the glaring tai youkai at her side. Sesshoumaru sat calmly before his untried food and neglected drink, his expression emotionless save for his angry eyes which seemed to grow in intensity at the king's taunt.

 

“Your youki gives you away, little whelp,” the Dragon King added derisively, smoke curling from his mouth. “Besides, no other outsiders seem to venture through this realm who are not the spawn of that youkai traitor.”

 

“He's not my servant,” Kagome piped in boldly, her fury brimming as she drew the king's attention away from the silent youkai lord.

 

“Really, but that's what dog demons do,” he replied knowingly, testing the iron resolve behind her firm jaw and unwavering, sepia stare. “Kneel down before humans and serve them. It's their nature. Shiro, that martyr, would tell you so himself. After all, it's what he died for, what he became a youkai for. And now he's fated to relive his foolishness, to have his muzzle rubbed into the futility of his sacrifice.”

 

“That was the past. He's changed and humans aren't what he dies for now.”

 

“Oh, and what does he die for now?”

 

“He dies for his pups. For his children.”

 

“Ah, yes, so, I have heard,” he hissed mockingly, “A far nobler thing, to choose to die for your children and yet what a luxury it is. Even cursed as a pathetic dog, I have trouble finding pity for that beast.”

 

“Why?” she raged at him, her voice cracking and the dam of her restraint crumbling as her anger overflowed. “You don't have to die. All you have to do is sleep on a bridge and wait for a lord to come and save your children. You don't have to bare your neck for the sake of honor! You don't have to face death! You don't even have to fight!”

 

“Do you have any idea what it is to be powerless, human?!” he snarled in return as his fist struck the floor with a resounding crack, fracturing the tile and startling the school girl with its ferocity. A malevolent aura spilled from him in waves and she felt her lungs seize as it billowed around her, drowning her in its wrath. “Do you know what it is to wonder if this mere lord, this fragile being before you that is more suited to be food than to be a warrior will be able to kill the great monster that threatens to steal away all that is important to you? Do you know what it means to fight the sleep that overcomes you each night fearing that your family, illusions or not, will be dead when you wake?” He rose to his feet, his blood red eyes glowing hot in the low light of the room. “I am not the Dragon King of the story, I am Yamata-no-Orochi and I know what it is to bear the burden of life. I envy that spoiled dog and the gift of death he receives every day. What I would have given to die alongside my brothers many years ago and what I would give to die for my conjured family now.”

 

With that, the king turned his back on his guests and walked his predatory gait to the back of the room. He stepped through another sliding door into the amber light of sunset, gliding it shut behind him with a loud clap and leaving the travelers alone with the geishas in an awkward silence.

 

Kagome sat quietly staring at her hand in wonder as it trembled lightly, ceasing little even after the last of the Dragon King's presence dissipated in the air. He really was unlike any other evil she had ever encountered and yet, she thought, `Despite his strength and confidence, he was so broken, so utterly crushed under the bitter, lingering weight of his past. Sure, he was angry and spiteful, but didn't he have a right to be?'

 

The vivid memory of a red clothed hanyou staked peacefully to a tree drifted into her mind, unwilling to be dismissed. Inuyasha had been broken too and by more than the cold, piercing shaft of a miko's arrow. Deceived by a cruel trick, he was sealed away for a crime he had not committed and perhaps the deepest wound of all, he lost the only person that meant anything to him in the process.

 

The soft murmur of the school girl's pride called out from deep within her chest, swelling her heart as she saw the same pain she had found in Inuyasha mirrored in the king. She was meant to help him wasn't she? To save him and his children from the Centipede, but who would save him from his own guilt? Who would save the Dragon King from himself? She could do this. After all, she had done it before.

 

“Where are you going, miko?” Sesshoumaru asked with a firm voice as she stood up shakily on her still unsteady legs.

 

“I-I'm going to talk to him,” she answered truthfully, startled by the suddenness of his question and the looming disapproval behind it.

 

“He is not a creature to be trifled with,” he remarked, his seriousness unavoidable as he locked eyes with hers. “Leave him be.”

 

“I can't,” she replied adamantly, matching his glare with one of her own. “He's innocent of doing anything wrong. He never ate any of the maidens, and yet he's being forced to be punished for the deeds of his brothers.”

 

“Hn,” he snorted, “Being innocent is not the same as being good. A good person can be guilty of horrible things and an evil one can do absolutely nothing.”

 

“And so he deserves this?” she snapped, crossing her arms defiantly across her chest. “He deserves to be imprisoned here for no reason at all? You know, maybe you're right. Maybe someone can have a good or an evil nature, but they also have a choice. Your actions are what define you not how you were born.”

 

“And do you believe he would not have eaten that maiden?”

 

“I don't believe he would eat her now, if that's what you're asking. He knows what it's like to have everything taken from him.”

 

“Tch, pity clouds your mind with foolishness,” the tai youkai remarked in mild distaste, a scowl gracing his features, “And your reckless compassion will be your undoing.”

 

“It's not pity and I'm not being recklessly compassionate,” she reasoned angrily, irate at the unspoken implications of his comment. She knew what reckless compassion was and she had learned her lesson with the bandits. “I'm meant to save him and his children.”

 

“From the Centipede, yes, but not from themselves. And even with that, that beast does not want your help. He only needs it.”

 

“What's the difference?” she fumed, freeing an arm to gesture furiously.

 

“You know what it is to be saved, do you not?” he asked harshly. “To have another rescue you from danger? To take responsibility for your life? Are you pleased when it happens? Do you appreciate it?”

 

“I am not always pleased when it happens, but I do appreciate it,” she admitted, somewhat content with her answer. She had been rescued countless times at this point, but not once could she remember not appreciating it.

 

“And if you were to lose your arm and another leant you his in its place, would you still appreciate it?”

 

“O-Of course,” she answered, her voice wavering in uncertainty at the goal of the demon's line of questions.

 

“Very well,” he said coolly, before he vanished, the table and dishes before him rattling quietly from the force of his movement. Then at her back, she felt the hard leather of his armor as he suddenly knocked her knees out from beneath her body. With expert ease, his hand reached down to her stomach, supporting her as she fell gently onto her shins and then slid to her right arm, gripping it firmly.

 

“What are you doing?!” she yelled in shocked surprise as he knelt down against her and bent her arm behind her back, anchoring it there with his knee pressing firmly against her elbow. Swiftly before she could respond, he leaned forward with his now free right arm, resting it over her shoulder as he used the back of his upper arm to press her body against his. Satisfied with her inability to move, he leveled his forearm to where her own would be had it not been bound. She squirmed and fought in vain with her left arm against his steadfast hold, whimpering and grunting in frustration. “Let me go!”

 

“Hn,” the tai youkai snorted with a slight frown as he patiently thought, her angry protests far from his mind. Then he nodded slightly in decision and further leaned forward, his warm breaths tickling her ear. Nimbly, he picked up the ebony chopsticks lying neatly on the black table. He dipped the ends into what remained of the fish fillet, retrieving a white, flaky piece of meat between the thin points of wood. He swirled it in a dark sauce, coating the meat lightly, letting the excess drizzle back into the cup before he brought it to Kagome's lips.

 

“Get that out of my face!” she yelled venomously, tears streaking down her cheeks as she turned her head away from the proffered food. “Why are you doing this?!”

 

“Hm?” he murmured questioningly, “You are hungry and I have merely taken it upon myself to feed you. I can hear your stomach grumble and it is my understanding of humans that if you do not eat regularly, you perish. So, I have decided to remedy the situation and aid you with the arm that I have leant you.”

 

“But, I don't want you to!”

 

“You object? You do not wish to eat?”

 

“I want to, but I don't want your help to,” she bit out as she struggled again at his grip.

 

“Ah, but you have no arm to do so.”

 

“I'd rather eat it right off the plate than use your arm,” she roared, turning to stare at him, her fury dazzling in her dark eyes.

 

“You resent it?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“I will let you go then,” the youkai lord acquiesced, as he leaned away, releasing her from his hold. “Reckless compassion is more than accepting the problems of people whose needs are greater than what you can give. When you help someone, you take responsibility for their well being, for their lives. You hold power over them and can even control their fate. Not all wish to give away something so precious as that. Some would rather eat off the plate than allow another to hold their chopsticks.”

 

“Maybe you're right,” she remarked after a moment, sniffing and wiping the tears from her cheeks with the heel of her hand. “Maybe my empathy for his fate is reckless and maybe the Dragon King will resent it. Maybe he doesn't want my help, but needs it and maybe he is evil and innocence has nothing to do with it.” She rose to her feet again and turned to face the door the Dragon King had left through. “But, if I always thought the way you do. If I always chose to do what you have done, then Inuyasha would still be sealed to Goshinboku and I never would have come to know all of the people who I love in this era. I will take my chances.”