InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Pearl ❯ Chapter 4 ( Chapter 4 )

The Pearl

 

Disclaimer: Surely by now you get it.

 

 

Chapter Four

 

All a man can betray is his conscience. ~Joseph Conrad, Under Western Eyes

 

There is no instance of a country having benefited from prolonged warfare. ~Sun-Tzu, The Art of War

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

“How will I know her?”

 

“Oh, you'll know her.”

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

General Shouji loved women. Particularly the pretty ones. So of course he was quite pleased when he learned that the assassin plaguing the four lands was a young, pretty girl. Really, there couldn't have been a more ideal situation.

 

The wheels began turning in his head, designing the intricate trap that would earn him the company of this little rogue.

 

He had been born into a long line of notorious soldiers, giving him a well-known family name, but a dubious legacy. Soon after Shouji had enlisted, his father became mentally unstable. Some said it was due to the long period of peace between the lands. The aged general knew how to do little else but fight in wars, and became increasingly belligerent as time progressed at a stagnate pace. He began killing servants on a whim, then progressed to his soldiers, and finally his wife. Sadly, the other thing he knew how to do well was occupy his bed with as many females as possible. In circles where the general was better known there had been whisperings that a brain fever, given to him by one of his lovers, caused his madness. Whatever the cause, the general had died disgracefully by his own hand, hanging himself stark naked from the balcony above his shiro's main entrance.

 

Family honor besmirched, the young Shouji was left alone to mend what had been done. He climbed the ranks with a fervent diligence, surpassing his peers both physically and mentally. By the age of 75, he became the youngest captain the Eastern army had seen, and by the age of 100 the youngest general. An entire battalion was placed under his direct command, and he was actively given new recruits to train and further strengthen his ranks. He worked to rebuild his reputation with the Eastern lord. Shouji took under his wings a dozen tea-house girls; all were butterfly demons that had fallen on hard luck. He gave them food and lodging, and in return they spun and wove silk garments of unmatched design. These fineries were then humbly submitted to Lord Takeda as tribute, reintroducing Shouji as a wealthy and dutiful vassal. The Lady Mieko took a great liking to these garments, and ordered them on high priority for herself and her ladies in waiting. This favor earned Shouji many visits to the Eastern palace, as a guest of honor no less.

 

He had worked hard for everything that he had. And now, some human girl was going to attempt to take it all away. How very amusing. And yet it also angered him; the arrogance of the Western lord knew no bounds. That the dog demon assumed his little pet could be of an equal match to a soldier of superior skills was insulting. It would be all the more sweet to present the pompous bastard with his minion at the end of a leash.

 

Still, as hard as Shouji had worked to overcome the disgrace his father had wrought, he had been cursed with certain aspects of the old man's personality. A short temper, penchant for gambling, and fondness of drink plagued the moth demon regularly, but he managed to keep a tight rein on these vices. It was his love of women that was the worst to control. Granted, he had more discriminate tastes than his father when it came to selecting bedfellows; the more exotic, the more erotic. But it wasn't the time spent under the sheets that drove him to seek out female company. Shouji was a very successful flirt. His cunning words and unabashed good-looks were all he needed to weaken any woman to her lowest senses. They would become like puppets under his control. Some he bedded, some he threaded on, and some he sought to break their hearts. It was a jolly game, and he would always, always surface as the winner.

 

Shouji put on his game face.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

“Do not be careless, and do not underestimate him.”

 

“You talk like I'm gonna come home in pieces.”

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Rin loved camping. Particularly with Jakken. So of course she was quite pleased to learn that, in order to catch up to the caravan, she had to spend the night in the woods with the slimy, noisy imp. Really, she couldn't imagine anything else she'd rather do.

 

The wheels began turning in her head, plotting the witty insults that would constructively fill her time with the little toad.

 

“Jak-ken-sa-ma, Jak-ken-sa-ma!” Rin sang.

 

“What?” the imp groused.

 

“Why are you so green?”

 

Jakken threw up his little clawed hands. “Do you ever tire of that stupid question?” he screeched.

 

Rin giggled. “I'll never tire of it, as long as you keep responding to it.”

 

“Just shut up and eat your dinner, stupid worthless piece of---”

 

“Shit!” Rin yelled, spitting out the mouthful of stew she had just tried to ingest. “What in the hell did you put in this stuff? Lizard?”

 

The dragon, who had been their proverbial pack-mule on this journey, raised Ah's head to investigate the noise. From his spot on the ground, Un rumbled the equivalent of, What's going on? to which Ah growled, They're at it again. Un flicked his ears in annoyance. Bipeds, he groaned.

 

“It's all I could find!” Jakken shouted back. “You were too busy taking that ever-so-important bath, and you know this Jakken can't hunt.”

 

“You can fish!” the girl accused. “You could have tried fishing in the river where I took my ever-so-important bath!” Rin angrily dumped the contents of her bowl back into the pot. Then she had a clever idea. Using the hem of her shirt to protect her hands, she lifted the stew from the fire and began carting it away.

 

“What are you doing?” Jakken squawked.

 

Rin did not reply. Instead, she placed the pot in front of Aun, and lovingly coaxed the dragon into investigating the food in question. Ah, the more impulsive of the two, had his nose directly in it first, and promptly sneezed before jerking away. Un, the more inquisitive one, snuffled the stew carefully before nibbling a small taste. He didn't react as strongly as Ah had, but he quickly chomped on some dry leaves to eliminate the wretched aftertaste.

 

“See?” Rin cried triumphantly. “Even Aun hates it.”

 

Jakken was already in transit by the time Un was taking his turn at the trough, carrying a wooden spoon in his greasy hand like a weapon. “Gimme that!” he insisted. “It can't be all that bad.”

 

“Oh yes it can,” Rin warned, watching the toad shovel a goodly portion into his beak.

 

Jakken, for the most part, remained unaffected by the food. However, it was only under a great deal of self-control that he was able to maintain his ambivalent façade. Don't chew, just swallow! he coached himself. But when the aftertaste started to take effect, he couldn't help the gag reflex that resulted.

 

“Okay!” he choked. “This Jakken gets the point!”

 

Rin smirked. “Well, `this Jakken' should have just asked me to scrounge up some decent meat, before I took my bath.”

 

“I can take care of things like that on my own!” Jakken angrily insisted. “Easy women's work; this is nothing compared to fighting.”

 

“Then why didn't you ask the WOMAN to do the WOMAN'S work?” Rin admonished.

 

“Because you're not a woman!” Jakken spat back.

 

Rin let out a barking laugh, and threw up her hands in amazement. Looking down the front of her shirt for show, she said in a mocking tone, “I have two counter points to your previous statement.”

 

Jakken shook his head in frustration. “No, no, no,” he grumped, “you misinterpreted this Jakken's words.”

 

There was no stop to this absurdity! Rin pitched backwards and lay flat on the forest floor, groaning in disgust. “You misinterpreted this Jakken's words,” she mimicked in a shrill voice.

 

The toad delivered a swift kick to the girl's shin with his clawed toes. It made her sit up and glare at him. Having obtained his intended objective, the demon ignored Rin's consternation.

 

“What this Jakken meant to say,” he amended slowly, “is that you are above this sort of thing.”

 

“Huh?” Rin grunted dumbly.

 

“You're the ward, I'm the retainer,” the toad explained, rolling his eyes.

 

The girl furrowed her eyebrows and began shaking her head. “No, no, no, that's not it at all. You've made me get my own meals unaided in the past, and you certainly have never addressed me as being above you in anything other than height.”

 

“Well…,” Jakken stammered, “that is because…you were younger then, and helpless…and you needed to be treated like that so you would learn to be self-confident.” To accentuate his off-the-cuff recovery, Jakken nodded forcibly and fixed his gaze on the girl.

 

Rin rolled her eyes. “Jakken-sama,” she sighed, “this morning you threw an orange at my head and told me that I was an over-confident mule. There's something you're not saying to me.”

 

The toad gulped, and looked to the side. “I know nothing of which you speak,” he squeaked.

 

The girl raised an eyebrow. Aun turned both of its heads forward to join in the game of stare-down.

 

For a while, the imp merely stood in place and trembled as he looked wildly around. But then he began to make brief moments of eye-contact with his audience, and started making little nervous croaks. When Rin let out a heavy sigh, Jakken suddenly snapped.

 

“Is it so wrong for this Jakken to want to make sure you are well fed before throwing yourself into a proverbial snake-pit, you ungrateful girl?!” he yelled.

 

Rin softened her features. “Why would you want to do that all of a sudden?” she asked gently. Gradually, she moved onto her hands and knees and began crawling towards her companion. When she was right in front of him, she stopped and kneeled so that she was sitting on her feet. She stared at him again, but his time with a small smile.

 

Jakken shoved his hands into his sleeves and whirled around sideways. “I just wanted to make sure you had a good meal before you left,” he muttered. He paused to look down at his feet and ponder his statement. Then he turned and was back in the girl's face, jabbing a claw at her accusingly. “This isn't going to be a walk in the park type deal, human!” he scolded. “You're going to be in a great deal of danger.”

 

The girl smoothly put her hand overtop the slimy fist in front of her, and relaxed it into holding her hand back. “I'll be okay,” she soothed. “There's never been a mission yet where there wasn't any danger, and I've been just fine.”

 

“But this is different!” Jakken insisted.

 

“How?” the girl pleaded.

 

The demon huffed angrily. “It just is,” he pouted. “It's much too risky and I'm surprised Sesshomaru-sama is sending you at all.”

 

Rin softly laughed. She recalled the night before, when Sesshomaru had finally come down from the tree and escorted her to her room.

 

“Sleep,” he commanded. “You will have need of it.”

 

“Alright,” she had chuckled. “I just need to get a few more things packed, and then I'll be in bed.” Then she had turned, and grabbed the screen door of her room, sliding it open. “Goodnight,” she cheerfully acknowledged, but the word got stuck in her throat when she gasped.

 

It was only for a second—the briefest of moments that could have easily been overlooked if the viewer was not careful. But she saw in his eyes a glimmer of pride, quickly aimed in her direction before he turned and walked away. She couldn't help but smile.

 

“Have a little faith in me, Jakken-sama,” Rin teased amicably. “I'm not such a weak human like you think.” She turned to the fire, and put on her best mask to hide her fears.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

“So you say she's human?”

 

“Well, not exactly.”

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

A caravan of human nobles was scheduled to pay a visit to the general, and pay homage in exchange for his continued protection. Of course the little vixen must have known that, Shouji realized with amusement. Pretty and clever.

 

He would make it a point to get better acquainted with her, before he completely humiliated her.

 

From what he'd gathered in the accounts of those who survived the assassin's attacks, she struck at night. It depended on how heavily guarded the residence was in order to estimate the total lives lost. In one instance, she had managed to get away with killing only her intended targets, but that had been in an open field. Any effort to pursue her usually amounted in more bodies. She was silent, thorough, and no one knew what she even looked like.

 

Pretty, clever, and mysterious. The very thought made his blood stir.

 

He had only that day to plan. Everything had to be perfect, so that it would not tip off the assassin to the imminent danger awaiting her. Not too many guards, but just enough to make sure all bases were covered. And of course, he had to be the one to officially capture her, reveal her identity, and disgrace her in front of his demon army. Everything was still on the drawing table as far as exact tactics went, but one thing remained certain: the Eastern Lord would know nothing of this.

 

Shouji was no fool. He knew the bargaining power he would possess once he captured Sesshomaru's little tool. He could ask for anything, and be granted it. To waste such a power on Takeda-sama would be a crime against common sense. Besides, the general felt he had every right to monopolize his claim on the assassin; after all, it was his doorstep she was coming to, and no one else's. And he was the only one who knew her little secret.

 

It had been surprising, at first, but later when he considered it the idea seemed rather obvious. The dog demon rulers of the West also had their vices: unquenchable thirst for power, blind desire for undisputed strength, and human women.

 

He'd heard the rumors. It all started back eight or nine years ago, after the destruction of the half-demon known as Naraku. Sesshomaru had returned to the Western Lands to strengthen his father's former empire. Everyone thought this to be rather queer, as the demon lord had previously seemed oblivious to his title and lands. Now, he seemed oblivious to his previous wanderlust, and set about building an army unlike any that had been seen. But what really sent the tongues wagging was the salacious rumor that Sesshomaru had brought more than a stellar work-ethic home with him.

 

Servants in the Western palace had seen things.

 

Flowers were suddenly appearing in vases on tables and ledges throughout the house. Colorful silk with elaborate prints and patterns were being ordered. Something small could be heard skittering about at odd hours. And very often, a small voice humming a nameless tune could be faintly heard coming from the demon lord's room.

 

It didn't take long for the rumors to flesh themselves out. Now everyone was saying that Sesshomaru had, in the course of his wanderings, picked up a human pet for an undisclosed reason. The whims of the anti-social dog demon were both erratic and enigmatic, so there was little ground to base any truth of this story. But many were convinced despite the uncertainty, that the Lord of the Western Lands was harboring a human child behind closed doors.

 

Had it been a full grown woman, the story would have ended differently. The Western Lands would have been attacked by the East and South, citing that Sesshomaru had become weak like his father in fondness for human mates. At that point in time, the outcome would have been grim for the dog demon, because his army, while impressive, still remained incomplete. But a child was another thing entirely. How could something that fragile thrive in an environment as hostile and oppressing as the Western palace? It would surely perish, and Sesshomaru would appear to be slightly eccentric instead of vulnerable. People forgot about it.

 

Now, Shouji was faced with the undisputed truth that, not only had Sesshomaru allowed a human to reside with him, but he encouraged her development into a healthy adult. A healthy, well-developed adult at that.

 

What was the word Katsuro had used to describe her? Ah, yes. “Delicious.”

 

Let her come then. He would be more than ready.

 

Adjusting his armor for the last time, General Shouji stepped through his front entrance and into the sunlight. He squinted briefly as he found his footing on the porch, before clicking his heels together at attention. Greeting the first of the pitiful vassals with a curt bow, the demon honed his mind away from his body and into the crowd. He would find her. It was only a matter of time.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

“Remember that you still are not exactly human, despite appearances.”

 

“I understand. I'll be careful, don't worry.”

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

In the month before she killed Setsuna, Rin had worked undercover as a handmaiden to a human noblewoman named Kwannon. Of course, it was from her that Rin acquired (meaning “stole”) the regal costume she used to disguise herself when she met the demon prince. Pretty clever.

 

She had made it a point to become quite invaluable with her human mistress in order to stay on top of the Eastern Lands gossip.

 

From her time spent in service of Lady Kwannon, she established a legitimate relationship within the network of human vassals of the East that could be called upon at a later time if needed. Thankfully, it paid off. She had managed to run away from her lady's service dramatically, incensing Kwannon to the point where she put out a reward for the girl's return. It was Jakken's job to perform the service of returning Rin and collect the bounty on her.

 

Pretty clever and simple. The plan's execution would proceed without a hitch.

 

She would have the rest of the day in which to return into the good graces of her lady. Naturally with the upcoming journey, all hands possible were needed. Any sort of justice for her truancy could be delayed until afterwards. For now, she would accompany the Lady Kwannon and her entourage to the Eastern palace. It became easy to fall back into her old disguise of an ordinary human. The clothes she wore were pedestrian, and she made sure to keep her head down and her hair loose in order to hide her face. She would appear inconsequential, but she still had her doubts about being able to sneak in undetected. One thing remained certain: she had to stay invisible until the last possible second, when she would strike.

 

Rin was no fool. She knew the pearl would be a liability in the company of humans. Demons could taste auras, and though the pearl's aura was quite faint, it was still noticeable. The best she could do was stay hidden, lay low, and remain inconspicuous. If anything suspicious did happen, or if she even suspected that she had been detected, she had to get out of there. The plan would have gone to waste, but she would at least be alive to try again another day. After all, it was her neck on the line, and not Sesshomaru's. And they were the only ones who knew her little secret.

 

“Humans!” Jakken shouted.

 

It must have been quite a sight to behold. From out of the woods, a tiny green man waddled through the grass and boldly approached the caravan. In tow behind him was a human girl, bound at the wrists and being tugged along. The girl had her head down in shame, but it was indeterminable if her shame was for being presented as a prisoner, or for being presented as a prisoner of a frog.

 

The carriages stopped, and curtains were shyly pushed aside from windows so that the nobles inside could have a peek at the scene. From where she stood, Rin heard the unmistakable cry of Kwannon, who had recognized the girl in a matter of moments. An escort on horseback was summoned over to the lady's carriage, and then stepped over to the motley pair.

 

“Is this yours?” Jakken demanded, tugging the rope and sending Rin tripping forward.

 

The horseman cleared his throat. “Lord and Lady Hojo thank you for your troubles in returning this errant servant,” he droned self-importantly. The man moved the reins into one hand and hunched forward with his free hand extended.

 

Jakken took a few steps back. “Oh no!” he cried. “There is a reward on her head and don't you try to pretend any different!”

 

The guard's face suddenly twisted with confusion. He sat up, and swiveled his head back and forth between his master's carriage, and the indignant imp. A hand finally stuck out the window and beckoned the perplexed messenger over. A brief exchange of words occurred, and the guard was handed something before he pivoted his horse and returned to the strange bounty-hunter.

 

“My Lord and Lady Hojo thank you once again, and will offer you this purse of eight gold coins in exchange for your hostage.” The guard leaned forward once more, this time holding out a small brown bag.

 

“Eight!” the toad screeched. “Why, that's hardly worth it at all! Do you know how much trouble it was to catch this errant thing?”

 

Rin nudged Jakken with her toe, making him turn around to face her. She glared. Don't press our luck, she warned with her eyes. Jakken sniffed and pretended to not understand.

 

“Look at her even now,” he insisted. “giving me that evil eye! I had to chase her down for three days, mucking through swamps and dark forests. And she put up quite a fight, but I was easily able to subdue her once I managed to get my hands on her. Little savage!” To accentuate his adventuresome tale, Jakken waved his hands around in the air the entire time he had been talking. Once finished, he crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. “I want twelve, and no less!”

 

The guard hesitated, once more looking back to his master for a cue. No hand came out. The guard turned back to the imp, and shrugged out of a lack of any better response.

 

Jakken grinned slyly and narrowed his eyes. “Might I congratulate you then, on your charitable donation to the next teahouse I come to? I will be sure to let the proprietor know that it was the Hojo clan who sent this fine girl to his services, and assure him there are plenty more where she came from.”

 

The hand shot out and forcefully beckoned its messenger over. The horse jolted from the sudden movement, and skidded nervously over to the carriage. This time, the verbal exchange was much shorter, consisting of a shouted, “Just give him this and tell him to leave!”

 

The guard returned, holding out the heavier purse. At this, Jakken eagerly extended his clawed hand, and caught the bag as it was tossed to him. He made a show of counting the coins, and after double-checking that there were in fact twelve, nodded his head and held out Rin's lead in exchange.

 

“Wait,” a cold female voice interrupted. She had left the carriage and was walking towards them.

 

Both males turned to identify the speaker. Rin kept her head low.

 

“Give her to me,” Kwannon said coolly. “She is mine, after all.”

 

Jakken shrugged. “It's no difference to me,” he scoffed, handing the lead to the lady instead.

 

Kwannon sniffed and gripped the rope tightly. Once it was firmly in her hand, she jerked it forward, making Rin almost trip and fall at the lady's feet. The girl quickly composed herself once more, and lowered her face away from her lady's gaze.

 

The noblewoman snorted inelegantly. “Look at me,” she sharply commanded.

 

Slowly, Rin raised her eyes.

 

The small action was greeted with an open-handed blow to Rin's face, snapping her neck sideways. The girl had to grit her teeth and concentrate on her breathing. She wanted nothing more than to beat the pompous bitch unconscious, but it would jeopardize everything she had worked to cultivate thus far. Slowly, she returned to her previous position with her head bent down.

 

“There was no call for that!” Jakken shouted angrily. He stomped forward a few steps to the lady, trying to assert himself.

 

Kwannon laughed. In defiance, she yanked down on Rin's lead, sending her crashing to her hands and knees.

 

“What do you care?” the lady sneered. “It's no difference to you.”

 

Rin subtly turned her head towards her faithful retainer. “I'll see you in three days,” she whispered, smiling. Then she made a great show of rising to her feet once more, head lowered further in humiliation.

 

Kwannon smiled, finally satisfied. “Come,” she barked, turning and walking back towards her carriage. She stopped, waiting for something. Looking over her shoulder, she shot a heated glare in the guard's direction.

 

Apparently feeling the singeing of the lady's eyes on his back, the guard jerked the reins and swiveled his horse sideways. He looked down at the toad once more. “My Lord and Lady thank---”

 

“Get over here NOW!” Kwannon shrieked.

 

The guard nearly jumped out of his saddle, and spurred his horse into cantering the short distance to the carriage.

 

“Tie her to the back,” the lady instructed. “She'll walk.”

 

The guard took the rope from the lady and paced to the rear of the carriage. Satisfied, Lady Kwannon stepped back into the coach and slammed the door behind her. The guard swiftly knotted Rin's lead to a board on the roof, then returned to his position in the formation of escorts. Someone from the front of the line called out, and reins snapped in unison as the horses stomped back into movement.

 

Jakken watched them go, not wanting to let Rin out of his sight until the last possible second. When she came into his view and was safe from being noticed by anyone else, she raised her head. Then she winked, and stuck out her pink tongue playfully, before resuming her role of the cowering servant. He watched them follow the road, until they disappeared under the crest of a hill.

 

“Stupid girl,” he assured himself in a shaky voice. Reluctantly, he turned and left.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

“How does she do it?”

 

“The pearl. She wears it around her neck.”

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

He scanned them as they entered, pretending to acknowledge their bows with regality. Shouji never underestimated his enemies. He fully expected her to be the one person he failed to notice, and that would be precisely how he would find her.

 

She had come as a demon hime when she attacked Setsuna. The young man was still callow when it came to women, and any attention received was golden in his eyes. So the assassin played his naïve judgment like a sanshin, and the song became a requiem.

 

She acted as a hunter when she killed the chief Eastern advisor and his wife when they were riding in the woods. They had gone to the forest for some fresh air, in full regalia and pomp naturally. The horses were nothing better than parade ponies, and had no instinct when it came to sensing danger. The arrows were nocked and shot within seconds of one another; the poison was strong, but the first hits had to be in a major artery to ensure the drug's effectiveness. Two more shots apiece, for good measure, and they would not be found until that night. While there had been no surviving witnesses to this encounter, the certainty of the assassin's guilt was concrete.

 

She had arrived as a “gift” when she had killed General Ichiro. The general liked owning things, and living things in particular. He did not keep servants, but slaves that were prisoners of his war efforts. A sentinel at the gate had found her sniffing about, and brought her in to his general in hopes it would garner him some favor. She had been a pretty little thing with wide, frightened eyes. Naturally, Ichiro wanted to best exploit her apparent innocence by making her his attendant in the bath. When they found his headless body sprawled out on the deck above the bath, it became apparent that Ichiro had additionally been beaten severely. Whether it was before or after death was not certain; apparently, the general had thought himself to be taming a mouse instead of a dragon.

 

And then there were the countless disguises she wore in the South: a miko, a mother, a sword smith, a wounded child, and a courtesan. How would she then come for him? His weaknesses were well apparent to himself, and he worked hard to compensate for them. However, they remained weaknesses for a reason—he wasn't always willing to restrain himself. Perhaps she would appear in the form she frequented, of a pretty girl out to seduce her victim. But that would be too obvious. She had to know that it would instantly reveal herself, and he knew she was far too clever for that.

 

Already, though he had never once laid eyes on her, he felt he knew her quite intimately. After all, she seemed to share a similar mindset to his own: calculating and deadly. She would not let herself be seen, so he was given no choice but to feel her out, a prospect quite appealing to his male arrogance.

 

Patience, he reminded himself, watching yet another family parade their riches before him in tribute. Patience.

 

“Ishiguro,” the demon herald announced, identifying the next clan approaching the stage.

 

What weapons would she use? She had blown Setsuna's place apart with a good deal of black powder. Moth demons were not keen in their sense of smell; touch was their strongest sensory organ. It was undoubtedly easy for her to have slipped past every defense then, as long as she kept everything hidden from sight. In addition to that, she had brought her own sword and horse to the scene. Swords seemed to be her weapon of choice; the majority of the deaths had been by decapitation. There were the few that stood out from the rest, the poisoned arrows being one. There was a Southern political advisor that had been gagged and strangled with a bolt of red silk. The nephew of the Southern lord had his head bashed in with a rock, while his wife apparently watched before she too suffered the same. The most extreme had to have been the general she had gutted. Rather gruesome, from what he had heard. She would need something easily carried and easily concealed, so he was betting on the sword again.

 

“Narita.”

 

When would she attack? That was simple. All of her attacks save for the one in the forest had taken place at night. That matter had already been addressed in his plans.

 

“Yubari.”

 

How would she flee the scene of the crime? He wouldn't put it past her to try and blow his house up; with as many carts and carriages that were trafficking through, she could possibly smuggle something combustible in. But it was unlikely. Unless she brought her own horse again, or managed to steal one on the way out, she would be running on foot. He raised his eyebrow and questioned her at this. There was no forest surrounding his shiro for a full li, give or take. Flat terrain was crucial in training numerous battalions of soldiers day in and day out. This left her at a distinct disadvantage; with no cover, she could swiftly be pursued from the air. Shoujii would have to figure out that equation later.

 

“Hojo.”

 

The moth demon was dressed in resplendent steel armor with gold inlay in order to appear prestigious. It never hurt to remind the vassals of how rich he was, all thanks to them. The shirt he wore was navy blue with white overlapping squares, while his pants were plain black. Of course, to further impress his superiority over the humans, he had his wings fully extended. He was quite proud of them, for he knew they were pleasing to look at despite the fact that he could not see them for himself fully. They were blue like a summer sky two days before rain: warm in tone but bright in hue. The tips were brushed with black that dripped down the sides, meeting at the junction of his spine and pooling there like ink. He always made sure to choose clothes that accentuated his demon attributes, giving him a regal appearance even on the battlefield. While it was not strange for Shoujii to appear before humans with his wings, he took his appearance a step further and stretched his antennae into the air as well. Humans tended to find that feature unattractive, but he wasn't concerned about how it made him appear; he would need them to help his search.

 

The one feature that he could admittedly do without was the scar on his face. In a battle with a snake demon, Shoujii had been careless and was hit over the eye by the demon's scaled tail. The scales left a grid of incisions in their wake, which never fully healed. It did add credential to his status as a seasoned soldier, but he would have liked it better if he could be seen as a brave fighter who hadn't been needlessly wounded in a fight.

 

“Tanaka.”

 

Shoujii jolted; he had picked up on something just now. Without moving his head, he darted his eyes about, frantically searching for the source of the strange power he was detecting. It was faint, and it was steadily fading, but it was most definitely there. Swiveling his antennae in the direction the aura was coming from, he shut down every function of his body and stretched his sense of touch as far as it could go. Invisible hands were fluttering in ribbons through the air, grasping for whatever it was that had jolted down his spine moments before. He was close—so close.

 

The humans at his feet were calling his name, begging his attention to their offering. He couldn't stop to oblige them, or he would lose his target. Patience, he demanded of himself, and closed his eyes.

 

It was getting stronger as he pushed himself further. The cold boundary between the untainted air and the aura had already been breeched. Where? Where? he thought frantically. The aura grew warmer now; he was within the second shell. The center was just beyond his senses. Where?!

 

He slammed into the cold, hard wall of the aura's innermost barrier all of a sudden. There, he tensed, opening his eyes. His senses were gripping onto his desired target firmly; he need only confirm it by sight and he would know who she was.

 

There.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

“Be safe.”

 

“I'll be home in three days. Make sure Kado is taken care of, for me.”

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Rin had managed to get herself covered in dust from head to toe. Trailing behind the carriage for three hours had been responsible for her present state of filth. Much annoyed, she wondered why she had even bothered taking a bath the night before. Maybe she could have had a better dinner then.

 

No, that wasn't right. Jakken had tried his best. It truly warmed her heart in the rare times that the imp expressed genuine concern for her well-being of his own accord. There were of course the times he worried for her only because his own hide was at stake, but he had a place in his heart for her, and would reveal it at the moments she needed it most.

 

They had all slept together the night before; Rin snuggled against the dragon's belly, while Jakken propped himself against Un's neck. It had felt like old times almost. Sesshomaru's absence was keenly noticed, and each of the travelers felt quite put out because of it. Here they were, tromping through the woods like always, and he had to be behind a wall of papers planning political actions instead of randomly wandering. He had changed in their perceptions because of it, and none of them were quite sure how to digest this new truth.

 

Now she was alone. Now she was on her way to a mansion she'd never been to, with people she didn't know, to kill someone who had never done anything to her. There was not a time that she did not question her motivation before a job. She was a nervous wreck, filled with doubt enough to make her want to scream and run. What business did she have doing this sort of thing? Why couldn't she sit at home and sew, or whatever human females did to pass the time? Who did she think she was, assigning death like some god?

 

At night, the grisly scenes would haunt her in angry dreams. She was in them, standing in front of her previous victim, ready to deal the final blow. Except she wouldn't stop after that. She would keep slashing and hacking away at the body, slicing away any remnants of the poor soul's identity. The sword would be thrown aside then, and she would delve into the carcass with her bare hands. Gore caked under her fingernails. Her skin was slippery with blood and other fluids. The last move would be to bend over and tear a piece of flesh off with her mouth. And she could see herself from outside of her body, kneeling over the corpse with its heart in her teeth. She would wake up screaming then.

 

She wasn't a monster. She wasn't a demon. She was just a little girl.

 

The world Rin grew up in knew little of little girls. Takako-san had really been the only female she had interacted with on a personal level. It was the closest thing she had to a mother figure in her life. While Rin could remember her own mother, once she met Sesshomaru that memory became a cruel truth; mother was dead, and never coming back. Life, Rin's life, had to go on without her. She had no family, except for herself. She was all that would ever be left.

 

So she adapted. She changed, without really changing. She was Rin, but she was now Sesshomaru's Rin. There was no question in her mind regarding her allegiances to the dog demon; he'd saved her life, as she had tried to save his. They needed one another. It was strange, because Sesshomaru had need of a child as much as he needed the plague. Similarly, Rin had no need for a demon guardian; she had her pick of various human women who would graciously take her in. But she didn't want them. And he wanted her. They were together, and they were happy; that was enough.

 

When they returned to the Western Lands to set up housekeeping on the brink of world domination, Rin began to feel a gap fall between herself and her lord. He had less time to indulge her with. When he saw her, she was always met with pained features, as if he was slowly growing to pity her. As a child, she wanted nothing more than a friend. Rin resigned herself to then make friends with whoever was willing. The problem was, the only people around were demon soldiers.

 

Soldiers are interesting creatures. They can be quite cruel to one another, subjecting humiliations time and time again, and wake up the next morning still close friends. They understood what it was like to feel pain, but it never occurred to them that their opponents experienced it as well. It had to be like that. If for one second they contemplated the suffering of dying enemies, they would go mad. Death was not a crime, but a mission, meant to bring about the betterment of some all-powerful cause. In this case, the expansion of Sesshomaru's empire was reason enough to slaughter thoughtlessly. And this was the example set before Rin.

 

It wasn't murder, exactly. If she thought of it as murder, she would never be able to live with herself. Murder implied selfishness, and Rin was most certainly not doing this for herself. So she lived like a soldier, letting sincerity bead on her skin and never settle into her being. Her cause was all that she needed—it was reason enough.

 

But she was also a woman, and had to learn to use her femininity as a strength. She was poised, graceful, and charming out of armor. She could hold a fan as easily as a sword; hold a conversation as strongly as a sparring match. As a woman, Rin had a power that soldiers did not have, that would always render them helpless. They wanted her. Because of that, she could have anything that she wanted, except for them. She knew that once she gave in to her emotions and fell in love, she would lose her greatest weapon. It would be that act which would render her just as vulnerable.

 

When Rin had first realized she loved Sesshomaru, she ran away. She stayed gone overnight, hating herself for feeling. Somehow, she expected love would never happen to her. Everything would exist in a state of neutrality, because the scale was balanced and didn't need to be tampered with. She couldn't be motivated by anything else but Sesshomaru's cause. But that night, it occurred to her how silly that idea really was. Nothing was able to remain unchanged forever. Rock eventually eroded from countless years of wind and rain. The moon changed phases every night it was in the sky. Children grew up. And she was looking at spending forever as a young woman, with a handsome demon as her companion. Why shouldn't she then love him? He would never love her in return, she was sure. But that was no reason to stop herself from caring for him. They were her emotions, and she had every right to them. They were not her weakness, or her strength. They were her cause.

 

In a world of demons and empires, emotion was the only thing Rin could say was truly her own.

 

“Ishiguro.”

 

Right now, trailing behind some pompous family, she felt lonely. What she wouldn't give to have Jakken, or even Aun back at her side. What she wouldn't give to have Sesshomaru tell her to come home. She would continue to leave, and to kill, because it pleased him. Until he told her to stop, and he never would, she would fight under his command any way she could. That meant, for today at least, she was being led into a figurative snake pit.

 

The outer gate was heavily guarded, which was to be expected on such a day as this. She half-way expected there to be another wall after that, but the entrance spilled directly into the courtyard. Soldiers wandered about as if nothing special was happening. Some were training at sword play; Rin envied them. Anything would be better than being pulled humiliatingly behind a carriage. Her cheek still smarted from the smack she'd received. Perhaps, after she'd killed the general, she could pay her beloved lady a visit and bully her a little.

 

“Narita.”

 

The caravan had basically stopped once inside, though it remained in formation. Family by family was being called up individually to present their gifts and hope they earned the protection of their demon guardian for at least another year. Sesshomaru did not indulge in such activities; but then again, Sesshomaru did not indulge himself with humans, no matter where they lived. The segmented pace allowed Rin to get a better look around the grounds, or at least as much of them as she could see.

 

“Yubari.”

 

One outer wall leading into an open field, and it looks like only one door out for the whole building, she tallied in her head. All of this stood to be a great problem for her later when trying to escape. There was certainly no shortage of horses for her to choose from; at least she would not have to worry about speed across the field. The only weapon she had managed to bring in was a large dagger, but that would only be used as a last resort. With soldiers all around, she probably could pick up a spare sword or two without being noticed. If there was only one door, she could always make an exit of her own, through a window or a wall. It would be much more risky, but in a time of crisis she would have to take what she got.

 

“Hojo.”

 

Rin had been so absorbed in the technical problems her situation posed, that she forgot the most obvious. The Hojo family was now presenting themselves before their general, laying out their gold, pieces of finely carved furniture, and samples of their rice that foretold of the many sacks they packed into a carriage to be added to the general's food storage later. And here she was, mouth agape, staring all around and not bothering to shield herself or the pearl.

 

She only had a moment to react. Shoujii was turning his head towards the party. He must not see her; if he did, then he would know even in the very back of his mind that she existed. In a desperate swoop, Rin dove under the carriage she was tied to, and waited for it to be safe.

 

“The Hojo clan offers its riches to you, Shoujii-sama, in hopes you will continue to protect us as we continue to serve you in return.”

 

No sound. No acknowledgement. The Lord and Lady Hojo were still waiting on their knees in front of the demon general. Rin was ready to scream. Hesitantly, she peeked out from under her hiding place to see what was causing the delay.

 

Shoujii was obviously not focused on his current task of greeting his vassals. His eyes were glazed and unfocused, and his mind was somewhere distant. Rin held her breath, scared suddenly that he might have been able to hear even the smallest puffs of air from her lips.

 

After what felt like hours, the demon nodded in the slightest bit towards his audience. Bowing thankfully, the lord and lady then returned to their carriage to proceed on down the line to the stables, and then to the courtyard. If Kwannon had noticed Rin's absence, she certainly did not indicate it. More than likely, she was rather irked at having been overlooked for so long while she groveled humiliatingly. The wheels moved, and Rin decided just to be thorough, she would crawl under the frame for a few paces. She sighed. It felt good to breathe again. But she wasn't completely relieved. Rin kept looking back, sensing that something was following her. She brushed it off to her intense paranoia, but it tingled in the base of her spine all the same.

 

“Tanaka.”

 

Rin stood finally and brushed the tan dust from her clothes. She needed to look low and humble, but there was no excuse for being filthy. A noblewoman's attendant would have better poise than that. But grace and poise were quickly forgotten when Rin felt a cold hand grasping around her neck.

 

She let a soft cry escape her lips as she whirled around to fight her attacker off. Whoever it was had every intent of grabbing her necklace. But there was no one there, and no hand. Eyes searching wildly about, and a cold sweat beading on her skin, Rin felt ashamed and utterly frightened all at once. Something had touched her, she was sure.

 

It was withdrawing now, whatever it had been. She could feel her nerves begin to settle back beneath her skin, and her whole body drooped as she relaxed. If she wasn't around so many people, she might have started to cry. Every iota of sense in her head screamed for her to leave, and go home and hang up her little soldier mantle to live happily ever after as a shadow in Sesshomaru's house. But she bit her tongue, and steeled her breath in order to hold the tears in. She had to be brave; she couldn't run home in fear. It would probably get her killed. There was no turning back now. The mission had to push forward with caution. Someone knew exactly where she was.

 

Here.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

“You have been immensely helpful.”

 

“That's nice. And you promised not to harm her, remember.”

 

“I did. I will not go back on that, rest assured.”

 

“Good. When do I get the money?”

 

“In time. But firsttell me,and I ask only because so few have had the honor,have you ever seen the silk web of a moth demon?”

 

“No, but I hear it's something.”

 

Shouji smiled. “That it is.”

 

Katsuro was bound tightly in the silken strands before he could cry out. His skin melted from his flesh before he could try to struggle. His bones were liquefied before he could exhale.

 

Shouji snipped the end of the web with his fangs, then wiped his mouth. “You never told me what you think,”he laughed mockingly.

 

And Katsuro was dead, so he could not say.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Rin remembered the first time she was taught how to put on make-up. She had been sitting in Takako-san's dressing room, watching the regal demoness paint thin, green lines just above the natural blue markings she wore on her eye-lids. When she had finished, she traded what was in her hands for a different clay dish and brush. This time, she painted a deep red on both of her lips. It reminded Rin of the color of blood, or at least her own blood. Demon blood was different than human blood. She didn't know about Takako-san, but she had seen Sesshomaru's, and it was pure black.

 

“Why are you doing that, Takako-san?” the teenaged Rin had asked in wonderment. The finished product was indeed gorgeous. The little girl had not thought it possible for her demon friend to look any more beautiful than she already was.

 

Takako laughed gently, then beckoned the girl to come sit beside her. Eagerly, Rin bounded over and scooted tightly against her teacher, ready to have new wisdom imparted to her young ears. The demoness cleared her throat, and then picked up a new brush and dish; this one had a white paste in it.

 

“There are three things that all living creatures share,” Takako explained solemnly. She dipped the brush in the white paste, then tilted Rin's face with her hand and looked at the girl appraisingly. Then she started to brush down from the top of Rin's forehead, down the bridge of her nose, and stopping at her upper lip. “Every living thing must be born, and to continue life they then must mate, and finally they must die,” she murmured thoughtfully, continuing to paint Rin's face. “But there are two experiences that only women go through, bringing us closer together as sisters. The first, naturally, is giving birth.”

 

Rin was blushing fiercely from Takako's mention of the words “mate,” and “giving birth.” She was still beginning to learn about the mechanics of a woman's body in comparison with a man's. It was what Sesshomaru had wanted of her, before she was allowed to train with his soldiers. She had heard many crude comments in regards to sex hanging around the troops, but never had any sort of knowledge to understand why exactly they were considered crude. Now even looking at some of the men made her face flare hot into a deep flush; not because of what they had said, but because of her own thoughts in regards to the topic. Men looked different to her, now. She was not entirely comfortable with the metamorphosis, but it was secretly exciting too.

 

Takako had finished with the white paint and set it down on her vanity. Next, she picked up some black paint, and continued on with her lecture.

 

“The second thing that all women share is make-up,” the demoness said with a gentle smile. She traced the black along the edge of Rin's eyelids, and a little past the corners of her eyes onto her temples.

 

Rin raised her eyebrow and quirked her mouth. This made Takako laugh.

 

“Don't look so disgusted, little one,” she cheerfully admonished. The final touches would come from the red paint, which she was brandishing now with a steady and well-practiced hand. “Now keep your mouth open just a bit, and don't move.”

 

Rin complied. She fluttered her eyes closed as she relaxed the muscles of her face. Something cold and wet was being dragged across her mouth. Takako continued speaking.

 

“Putting on make-up is a ritual that all women share, though all have a different way of going about it. For instance, humans tend to wear much more than demons, but that is probably because they are without any natural markings to add to their appearances. There,” she sighed, pulling away. She then put down everything to pick up a polished bronze mirror, and held it up for the girl to look in.

 

Rin gasped at the face she saw. For a second, she thought herself to be looking through a window, instead of her own reflection. The person she saw was much older looking, and very pretty. Her entire face had been painted white, including over her eyebrows and down her neck from her jawbone a little. Her eyes looked hooded and sultry; never had she imagined she could appear so mysterious and alluring. The final touch had been the red on her lower lip alone; her upper lip had been painted white.

 

The girl pushed a slow breath from her mouth, struggling to take in the drastic change in her features. What would people think if they saw her like this?

 

As if she could read minds, Takako smiled and lowered the mirror to look full on at the girl. “You look beautiful,” she cooed, “like a hime.”

 

A year later, Rin would learn the flip-side to her lesson. As women were all given to produce life, men were given to take it away. Killing was a deep bond shared between males of all species for many reasons. It proved their strength, protected those they cared about, and eliminated any threats to their own well-being or egos. Caught between the world she was born into, and the other in which she had been re-born, Rin practiced both rituals with the grace of ease. Both were part of her natural identity.

 

If she sat and thought about it too long, she would frighten herself over which part came to the surface the most.

 

But it was times like these that her killer instincts became priceless, for she was trapped between the proverbial rock and hard place. To begin with, she did not have a sword.

 

Servants only mingled with servants at social gatherings for nobility. Rin was able to remain safely hidden for the duration of the day. As for staying behind after all of the humans had left, she had the stodgy manners of the nobility to thank. Kwannon would know better than to make a scene of Rin's disappearance, especially after she bragged about her capture to the other noblewomen during the day. When Rin did not appear at the time the Hojo party was to be leaving, Kwannon quieted her rage and ordered the carriage onward. If the girl stayed behind with the demons, her death was assured. If she had managed to escape the castle walls and back into the wide world, then she could stay. The Lady Hojo could always comfort herself with the image of the little servant girl starving to death without any means to support herself. If she dared to come back, she would be killed without question. Either way, in Kwannon's mind the situation panned out in an untimely death for Rin, and that was suitable enough.

 

Rin managed to sneak into the house about the time the humans began packing up and departing the castle grounds. With the commotion, she easily entered the building undetected and began to scout out the premises to plan the base of her operations. It was to her delight that she found a great deal of weaponry adorning the walls of the shiro; however, it turned out to be nothing more than adornment, for the blades were dull and their only function was to look impressive. All she had to rely on was the long dagger she had brought on her own, and that had been her worst case scenario resort. It would leave her with little option but to stay unseen at all costs. There would be no fighting through swarms of soldiers, and no grand escape. Stealth became Rin's new tactic, and she adjusted her plans accordingly.

 

She found Shoujii's room quite easily. It was positioned at the center of the house, with only one door and no windows. The room itself was quite large and impressively furnished, which would allow great cover for stalking through the shadows towards her prey. All she needed to do after that was wait for the house to retire.

 

Rin positioned herself on one of the wider rafters in the ceiling above and directly opposite from the bedroom. Years of practice had given her an excellent sense of balance, and as such Rin stretched out her body along the beam and permitted herself to doze lightly in order to be less fatigued when it came time to act. Another advantage to this was that as she slept, so did the pearl. Her aura would be completely extinguished and undetectable; as long as she remained out of sight, she would be completely out of mind. Her body was conditioned to wake at the slightest change of lighting in her environment. Once the night lamps were lit, she would be ready.

 

In her fragile sleep, Rin dreamed of being in the tree like the night before. The only thing that was different, she noted in passing, was that this time, Sesshomaru had two hands.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

“Why are you holding me?”

 

“You were irrational. You needed to be controlled.”

 

“But why like this?”

 

“It has been this Sesshomaru's understanding that you respond well to someone's undivided attention.”

 

“I do. But first, tell me why you felt the best course of action would be to sweep me up into the branches of a very tall tree, instead of sitting me down safely on the ground?”

 

“You needed to be held.”

 

Rin smiled. “I did.”

 

There was a lifetime that passed between their eyes. There was a sudden death of their bodies due to lack of breath. There was a fleeting moment when they saw past the skin and sank their claws into the meat of each other's souls.

 

Sesshomaru sniffed haughtily, effectively dispersing the atmosphere of whatever it was that had been happening. “Why do you care to know such things?”

 

And Rin was in love, so she could not say.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Shoujii remembered the first time he had killed a woman. It had been a human woman; demonesses were much harder to kill than one would think. A female's claws and fangs were sharpened to a needle-like precision that devastated whatever part of her attacker they touched. But human women were weak, and tended to scream instead of fight. At least, they didn't appear to be fighting. Sure they kicked and thrashed about, but without any real strength behind their movements, very little was accomplished. He had been forty, and bringing the peasant girl down had been a thrill that threatened to obsess within his blood. The sheer power of it all made him want to do it again, and again. So he did. It was his mother who put a stop to his rampage.

 

“Why do you interfere, Haha-ue?” Shoujii snarled venomously. His honored mother had torn him forcibly away from the corpse of a sixteen year old villager who had very shapely hips that proved to be extraordinarily sweet to the taste of her flesh.

 

His Haha-ue frowned and swiped Shoujii across the chest with her claws. The young demon jolted backwards with a hiss and clutched his new wounds furiously. “Choosing prey specifically because of its weaknesses is not right,” the demoness snarled. “Human women and children are beneath you, and it shames me to see you demeaning yourself like this.”

 

Shoujii gritted his teeth. As much as he hated to admit it, Haha-ue was right. But the butterfly demon obviously did not understand or appreciate the taste of a woman. Most likely, a female's blood would taste bitter and acrid to another female, but to a male—pure honey. He was addicted to it. It did shame Shoujii that he seemed to be showing a similar weakness from his father in their proclivity towards women, but the younger demon was much cruder in his passions. He would not find out about the other benefits of a female's presence until ten years later, very close to the time his mother died. As a birthday present, his father gave Shoujii one of his well-liked concubines to use in discretion. Naturally, the young demon's first instinct was to kill her and indulge himself in what he knew marinated her flesh from underneath. But she managed to convince him otherwise.

 

The moth demon stopped killing human women after that, and started frequenting his company with assorted demonesses of all kinds. He learned to appreciate their finer qualities, such as their smell, their voices, their touch, and their looks. The baser desires of his youth faded as he matured, and he began to reap the benefits of his new outlook. Women adored his company, as he adored theirs. At social gatherings, he was always the envy of the males in the room, because inevitably he would have conversed warmly with every female present by the end of the night. What made it even worse, was that he didn't sleep with them. The men could understand if his façade was only meant to earn him a warmer bed, but Shoujii was genuinely interested in these women's minds, touching them more intimately than any bedfellow could ever hope to. They swooned for him days afterwards, driving further home the ineptness of their male partners.

 

He had managed to give up gambling and drinking by the time he was made general. If he had a lover, he tended to keep her for an extended period of time, but only for his sadistic pleasure of stringing her along before breaking her heart. It had taken time, but he finally discovered that physically breaking a woman did not provide as much pleasure as emotionally breaking one.

 

His greatest love was power.

 

And then there was the Lady Mieko. Shoujii was never sure if the affections she showed him were genuine, or merely a product of his charms seducing her mind; nonetheless, she was eager to spend time with him whenever, wherever, and however possible. He knew better than to bed her, for it would surely mean his death if they were to be discovered, or if she were to become jilted. Undoubtedly, the latter would result in the former. Now that she was heir apparent, her attentions niggled steadily at the back of his brain. If he wed her, then as her husband he would stand to rule in her place. Shoujii was never unfaithful to any of his lovers; during the time in which she stayed under his roof, he would have no other except her. But he did like changing the roster every now and again in order to keep his interests peaked. Marrying Mieko would mean having to give that up. While Shoujii wasn't necessarily opposed to the idea of marriage—he did eventually want to settle down after his career began to wane—Mieko was not exactly the ideal wife he had in mind. It just wasn't worth it.

 

But now the only woman his attentions were focused on was the little servant girl he had glimpsed earlier that day.

 

Though her appearance was dirty, and her clothes and hair were styled to make her increasingly unnoticeable, Shoujii knew she was in fact quite pretty. His keen eyes could quickly discern the curve of her hips as she walked, and the fair color of her skin from what glances of her neck he could steal. Her features were small, but well toned and lean. If she had thought her disguise to be fool-proof, she was gravely mistaken. A male with any decent intelligence could plainly see her for the beauty and powerful presence she was.

 

The aura she gave was gone, and despite every effort he put forth it seemed to have vanished completely. Had she known she was discovered and fled? Not likely. What he could interpret from her tales spoke of a stubborn tenacity inherent to her nature. She would still be there, waiting to strike. She loved having the upper hand, and for now he was content to give it to her. Patience once more would be his center.

 

It had been almost a century since he had been in close company with a human woman. He'd never experienced anything beyond brutally slaughtering them, but he'd heard tell of what excellent lovers they made. Shoujii had it on his agenda to find out, but always had more pressing matters of state to contend with. The idea was placed on a wish list in the back of his mind, up there with wanting to build a second shiro in the mountains and drinking some of the sake of illusion he'd heard so much about.

 

But there were other things to attend to first. Shoujii could not afford to languish in his indulgences and forget the most pressing matter at hand. He couldn't have the Lord of the Western Lands come banging on his door when his trained assassin did not return. And Shoujii wanted to make sure the arrogant dog demon was thoroughly humiliated and weakened. He wanted the swords Sesshomaru valued so dearly. The Tenseiga had been explained and passed over in his mind as something potentially useful but not particularly impressive. It was the Tokijin that captured his imagination firmly and would not let go. The wicked demon blade, forged from the fangs of an off-spring of Naraku, was well known only to those who died under its whim. The mere pressure of the sword's overwhelming demonic aura could burst blood vessels through skin at 100 yards, making the victim bleed to death without ever having been cut. In his hands, the moth demon hoped to turn the Tokijin against its master in the confrontation that would undoubtedly result from his plans. After all, in order to have the sword, he had to take it.

 

Shoujii grinned and licked his lips. Yes, seeing Sesshomaru's face twisted into the angry dog he was would be worth it.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

The night torches flickered with an enchanting glow. Everything about the shiro had been designed to be visually pleasing, no matter the conditions. Rin had to snort in her quiet amusement. The reason why the Eastern armies were so ill-suited for war seemed to be due to their desire to build great houses instead.

 

The unforgiving racket of metal armor clanking down the hall alerted Rin to her target's approach. Seeking darkness to conceal herself was easy, but unfortunately it left her with no view at all of the bedroom door. From what she could hear, General Shoujii was being escorted to his room by a small flank of guards. Murmured commands were issued to keep the mundane shifting of the palace guards turning like clock-work, before the moth demon retired. Rin held her breath. There were about six guards. Her prospects were grim; there was no way she could dispatch of them without first alerting Shoujii's attentions. She would have to wait for them to change.

 

But to her surprise, the guards gathered themselves and continued walking down the hallway. Rin peeped out from her hiding place and found that not a one of them had remained on post outside of their general's door. She smirked and rolled her eyes. Shoujii was probably that arrogant. And if he had a guard, most likely it would be in his room to surprise any elopers that were just as arrogant in thinking he would purposefully leave himself defenseless. So one, maybe two guards to contend with, instead of six. That she could handle. In fact, Rin welcomed the possibility; it would provide her with the chance to get her hands on a real sword.

 

She lay in wait for roughly an hour, to give everything a chance to settle into the lulls of silence. All the time, she focused on her breathing, keeping her senses keen and calm so as not to bring about any undue attentions. If she was to get nervous and send the pearl's aura flaring out, it would surely mean her capture.

 

Pulling her mask down, Rin pulled herself flush against the rafter and began crawling towards the bedroom. The black body suit she wore had been made in the design of the demon slayers' costume. She had asked Sango first, but the woman would have none of what Rin wanted. Anything that served to further a demon population was against everything her village had stood for. Sango, her husband Miroku, and her brother Kohaku were all that occupied the former demon slayers' village after Naraku was killed. But Kohaku secretly helped Rin. He felt indebted to Sesshomaru first, for sparing his life on a few occasions, and raising him from the dead in the aftermath of the final battle. The young man rather fancied Rin as well, and hoped to earn her attentions with his offering. Rin was too busy to think of boys then. Now, her thoughts strayed to Kohaku and the look he had on his face when she first tried on the black clothes. With the wisdom of hindsight, Rin felt slightly guilty for that look. She'd done nothing to earn it, but she had done nothing to stop it either.

 

The roof of the house was angular, and provided a comprehensive ceiling for all the rooms in the tunneling hallways of the house. Instead of opening the door and risking a swift attack, Rin could scoot over and drop into the room soundlessly with her soft slippers from above. She moved quickly, not wanting to risk being seen by any late night wanderers; upon reaching the other side, she heaved a sigh of relief in her mind.

 

The room was too dark. She could make out very little of what figures sprawled beneath her. The bed was easy to distinguish because of its size, and there appeared to be various other pieces of furniture. Of what kind she could not say, but some were most likely tables and floor cushions.

 

His demonic aura was the first thing she detected. Shoujii had a powerful demon strength lurking under his skin, though not nearly as powerful as Sesshomaru's. Very little was nearly as powerful as Sesshomaru, and nothing was as powerful. Still, it was nothing to be scoffed at; a demon of this caliber could kill a human with a well placed blow to the head, perhaps even taking the head off in turn. The second thing she could distinguish was the peaceful breathing of one who was soundly asleep. This gave her pause; always, she listened to the soft puffs of air threading in and out of the thinly opened mouths of her victims. She tried to imagine what they could be dreaming. Rin always hoped it was something pleasant, for their sakes at least.

 

Carefully, Rin began lowering her body to the floor. Hanging gracefully from the rafter with her feet dangling meters above the floor, she gauged the room's reaction to her intrusion in perfect stillness. There was nothing to greet her, not even the random creaking of wood from the house settling. Satisfied, she let herself fall and soundlessly rolled out her landing. It would be best to do this quickly.

 

Crawling over to the bed, the girl squinted and struggled to take in the features of Shoujii's body. He was sleeping on his stomach, bare-chested and with his head turned away from her. To stab him in the back would be quite classic, but it would be too noisy to risk. She would have to kill him in a way he could not cry out and alert the house. This was why beheading was her method of choice. Unfortunately, the long knife she carried would not be permissible to such a task. She would stab him through the throat, she decided, and poised her weapon to strike.

 

The cut was clean and true, effectively slicing through the jugular vein, windpipe, and vocal chords all at once. However, in her haste Rin realized that her attack had been just a bit over zealous, for the dagger was stuck fast in the demon's throat. Desperately, she started to yank her weapon free, in spite of the dying Shoujii's convulsions and death rattles. Rin felt herself begin to panic. The demon before her was clearly dying, but the demonic aura in the room was steadily building instead of flickering out.

 

Rin heard a low, dark chuckle come from the corner of the room.

 

“Fuck,” she breathed, eyes widening with her revelation. Rin sprang to her feet and clamored over the furniture in an effort to boost herself back up into the ceiling. Her hands managed to clumsily grab onto a support beam, but in her panicked state she could do little more than swing from side to side.

 

The bedroom door slid open, and along with a dozen or so soldiers, came the light pouring in, and the truth. In the bed, some random demon lay saturating in his own blood. Shoujii had moved out from concealment, and was now standing directly beneath her.

 

“You're a wicked little thing, now aren't you?” he teased.

 

Hands were pulling her down, though she fought as best as she could. With no knife and absolutely no advantage, she would just have to throw reason to the wind and fight blind. If she could grab a weapon, all the better.

 

Rin almost cried out for joy when her hand managed to wrap around the hilt of a sword. It was the last thing she remembered doing.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

“Rin.”

 

The girl blinked her swollen eyes and squinted from the brightness of the room. Who was calling her? Why did she feel like she had just had the snot kicked out of her by a dozen or so demons?

 

Shoujii grappled onto Rin's face and punctured her cheeks with his claws. “So you're the little human I've heard so much about,” he murmured, sizing her up with his eyes. “Katsuro did not lie about anything.”

 

Immediately she began to struggle. Her arms had been bound at the wrists with rope, and two guards held onto her from her sides. A swinging kick with each leg against the crook of her captors' knees brought them down and away. The rope was easy enough to slip out of, due to her tiny wrists. Ripping her face out of the demon's hand, Rin grimaced as she felt ribbons of blood streak across her cheeks. Mindlessly tuned out to the world that did not encompass her fight or flight response, the girl stood straight and gazed full on at her foe.

 

He punched her in the jaw, sending her to the floor. Before she could recover, he was standing on her neck, crushing her windpipe with a controlled pressure. Rin clawed vainly at her new restraint, realizing too late why her wounds had been so slow to heal, and why the pain of her bruises still lingered.

 

Embarrassingly, tears began to well up in Rin's eyes. The pearl was gone.

 

Shoujii grinned. “I see that I have your undivided attention,” he declared glibly. “All that stands to matter now is deciding how I'm going to use it.”

 

“Bastard,” Rin hissed. Her reply was a jerking increase in pressure to her neck. She coughed and writhed her body in vain efforts to escape.

 

“I don't see any reason for the name calling,” the moth demon rebuked. “After all, I only wish to strike a deal with you. Whether or not you accept it will determine whether or not I am a bastard.” He sneered at her, relishing every second of his ill-gotten power.

 

“Go to hell!” Rin hoarsely screamed, kicking her legs wildly. She managed to land a few swift blows on some part of Shoujii, because she could see him flinch above her. But he did not relent.

 

The young demon narrowed his heated gaze on the girl like a concentrated beam of scorching white light. “You are in no place to tell me what to do,” he answered smugly, “especially when I have this.”

 

Every hope that Rin had of survival flew out the window. She had been frantically holding on to the idea that Shoujii would not understand the nature of her jewelry, and had merely taken it off to rob her. She prayed that Katsuro had only betrayed her name and reputation, and not her secret vulnerability. Rin was quite certain that her heart had shattered within her chest as she gazed up at the pearl in Shoujii's hand, and she must be either dead or dreaming.

 

He held the pearl out in plain sight for a moment, then tucked it away in the folds of his clothing. “Now,” he said calmly, “why don't we have a nice cup of tea and discuss what you need to do in order to get this little bauble of yours back, hm?”

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

A/N: Yay! My first author's note. Okay, so the reason why this chapter took so long to post was because firstly it is just a lot longer than the others, B) it needed to establish some background for my new character, and next I tend to fancy myself to be William Faulkner sometimes and not a mere fan fiction writer. Combine all that with no internet connection and prematurely becoming an aunt, and you have the whole delay in a nutshell. I am dreadfully sorry if it drags along for these reasons; however I am quite proud of the literary techniques that compose this chapter as a whole. At least it looks pretty, is basically what I'm getting at. The next chapter is nearly finished, and promises to be much more intense. Actually, it's part one of full-on, unadulterated, blackened doom in the story. Chapter 6 is part the second. And in case no one reads my author's profile, I want to say that I appreciate every review I have gotten since the very first post! Good or bad, your reviews let me know that you were attracted to the plot summary, have taken time out of your precious day to investigate, and admitted to having read my story. So thank you, thank you, thank you!