InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Transient Winds ❯ Departure ( Chapter 7 )

Chapter 7; Departure

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When word came to her, Gekido dropped the small serving tray that she held, tea spilt at her feet. As hot as it was, she couldn’t bring herself to care. For the first time that day, Lady Miyabi was the furthest thing from her mind.


The sound of glass shattering was much to loud in the quite halls, but she did not hear it. The girl in front of her stood ready if she fell to her knees. She held her arms out for comfort, but Gekido was not that type of girl. She would not collapse in the lord’s hall before she knew what was happening.


She had been up with the woman all night watching her, making sure that she slept peacefully. Her nights were seemingly so fitfully that she barely slept at all, but last night had been different. Last night she slept serenely as if not a care in the world. In the morning, she smiled into Gekido’s sleepy eyes and told her, ’Child, you worry so much.’


Her smile had been somber, but easy. The wrinkles about her eyes had even smoothed a little. She looked as a well rested woman.


So what was this news that had hit her ears and made her heart drop to her feet? She knew that the girl had been mistaken. She did not know the older woman well any way. What did she know at all?


Her feet padded the through the corridors, gracefully and unusually elegant. Tears blurred her vision and she made it out of pure memory. Turn left, five steps to the right, and three steps to the left, turn to the right.


And there was her room. Candlelight spilled into the hall, inviting Gekido in. The wood whined underneath her feet as she slowed her steps. So many times the woman had laughed at her as she came around the corner. ‘Like a wild child,’ she’d say. ‘If the lord was to catch you, he would most definitely wondered what species you were.’


She’d hug her then and pull her into that room. Place her onto the small pallet, while planting soft kisses upon her cheek. Finally, she’d grin and whisper ‘goodnight, child’.


This very morning, she had been out in the fields, folding the white sheets that Gekido had placed on the line. She had even met Miyabi as she limped over the yard, grabbed her, placed her in that same embrace that she held Gekido with many times. So soft and warm it was.


So, why, grandmother? Gekido thought running her fingers alongside the wall as she approached the room, searching for the courage to peek around the corner and look at the woman that would lay in that bed, waiting for her.


‘Don’t be sad if I go, Gekido,’ she had whispered nights before. ‘Take care of yourself.’ Then she fell into another fitful sleep. Tossing and turning, her fever never breaking, until this morning.


But she had collapsed while in her duty, fallen flat on her face. And she called for Gekido. She called for her grandchild, that she had taken care of since her years as a toddler. Her mother and father were not fit parents.


Such a loving and caring woman, she had been sick all her life and she had even told Gekido that one day she would die. When she was tired and Gekido could take care of herself, she would be gone, watching Gekido from afar.


She was not ready for that, not ready to be on her own, but she knew and her grandmother knew when she had the first restless night three weeks ago, she did not have long.


Gekido stopped just short of the narrow entrance, pressing her back against the cool wood, closing her eyes. If she stopped moving, stopped breathing, then maybe time itself would stop and it would all be avoidable. For a moment, that was exactly what she did.


“Child,” the voice was so feeble, so broken. “You cannot stand there all night.”


The older woman was smiling, almost laughing. That was what Gekido did. Made her smile, made her laugh, made her worry, made her cry. Even so close to death, she still brought emotions that the older woman had distanced herself from in this place.


“Nothing changes,” she reiterated as she had time and time again. Gekido had that way about her. Wanting to stop the inevitable as if she could save the world. “I want you here, child.”


That brought the young woman out. She rounded the corner, tears lined her cheeks, her fingers intertwined before her, saddened and guilt written eyes circled the room. She did not want to see her grandmother this way. Weak, tired, and ready to take death by the hands.


The older woman had only seen that look once in her life. The first time she had met the girl, circling behind her mother, beaten and bruised. Her father had been angry that morning and taken it out of the small child and her mother… She still had not deciphered if she was trying to save the young one or wanted her out of the way. Knowing her daughter, she knew it was the later. Such an irresponsible thing she was, but it really did not matter. She had given her Gekido and that made her proud.


She watched the girl’s steady steps as she circled around her few onlookers. They, too, held looks of pity and sadden hearts. Right now, it did not matter. Only Gekido mattered.


Cautiously, she approached the side of the bed were her grandmother laid. She was a gorgeous child and a striking lady, as her mother was. To bad, her grandmother did not know where she could tell the girl to find her.


Gekido sunk to her knees beside her, resting her hands on the soft mattress, to afraid to touch her.


“You worry me so, child,” she whispered taking in a deep painful breath.


“Grandmother, I am sorry,” she offered a useless apology, looking at the woman for the first time. Her face was ghostly white and the wrinkles about her eyes had increased adding years to her looks. Even so she smiled and her eyes gleamed. Gekido liked that.


With what little strength she had left, the woman reached a bone-thin hand to touch the girl’s face. She acted so innocent in her own way.


“A girl with your beauty.” Her comment brought a smile to Gekido’s face. She had told her time and time again that she worried her so much being as beautiful as she was. The demons would steel her away.


Without realizing it, she gripped the older woman’s hand as it slipped away from her face to weak to withstand. “I…I…I don’t want you to go,” she cried out at last as if the woman did not know it. She knew her plead was useless.


“But you are so strong, Gekido. I cannot continue this way,” her voice was in murmurs and her chest had begun to rattle at each breath. “As I have told you before, I want you to take care of yourself.”


Gekido knew that more than she did anything. Her grandmother told her that day by day every morning, since she first arrived.


There were more important matters that the woman wanted to address, though; something that had bothered her for quite sometime now. “Gekido,” her voice was serious and on a whisper. “Lady Miyabi will be leaving soon. I want you to go with her. Leave this place once I’m gone.”


Gekido stared at the woman ready to question why, when understanding dawned on her.


Too beautiful, that was what she had been told. Lord Tanaka had his way with beautiful women as did some of his men, but the woman had been here to protect her and shield her from their roaming hands and perverted intentions.


“Be friends with her as you always wanted.” Then, there was that. Something had always bothered her grandmother about the way Gekido viewed the lady as though she were a god, something truly special. Behind closed doors she would serve her needs, never noticed, and never phased by the lack of attention. “You will need her protection.”


The sudden frailty that gripped her heart had begun to spread, blurring what little vision she had.

Just one moment, she begged refusing to let go until she spoke her last words.


“Take care of yourself, Gekido. I have loved you and will continue from were I will be.” The rattle in her chest was loud, but brought about an ease in the woman and she heard Gekido’s whisper.


“I love you, too.”


Her vision was too dimmed by then and soon she could only make outlines of the girl, but she felt the warmth of her touch as she gripped her hand tighter. Her eyes were closing and she couldn’t tell it. The urgent nature that took hold of the girl by her bedside was sorely misplaced as she could feel herself slip away and for a moment she felt that peaceful rest that she had missed for the last three weeks. Nothing could compare to the quite serenity that engulfed her.


“Grandmother, I love you,” she heard her. Heard the whimpering and whining that Gekido produced and could only wish her the best as she had begun to fad from her memory as well.


At long last, after her hard work, the woman laid to rest.

He should not have smiled. He knew that.


The village was in chaos and all he could do was smile. His insides felt all giddy like the women that he so adored. His robe of black was more than enough help with his plan.


He straightened his back and wondered to the other end of the barn. It had long since cleared out of people. At word of an approaching demon, they fled to the comfort of homes, women and men alike.


It was that very demon that had stolen his kesa as he bathed. It was a powerful cloth after all and with that much spiritual power the demon could ransack the place, eat the small child, rape the women, and rip the very skin from a man’s body. And he had told them so.


“Go to your homes,” he warned. “Clear the streets and do not look out until the sun had gone down.”


Yeah, that was what he told them. From the people in the rice fields, to the men in the stables, he made sure they heard him.


“I will need a horse,” he insinuated as hurrying feet rushed passed him. One woman nearly pushing him to the ground, hair wild and eyes bewildered.


“The one in the stable,” she suggested pointing towards the stables. “Tanaka keeps that one in the village.”


And the wonderful day had just gotten better.


“I will leave and steer it away from the village.” He sounded so vigilant, so brave. He was the hero that would save them all and rob Tanaka blind.


Tenrai had quickly taken the horse, tearing through the town. His wet hair fluttered behind him making crystal droplets in the air. Against her mother’s will, a small child watched him and thought of him as her savoir. He sure looked the part as the huge steed passed her family’s hut.


Then he was gone into the woods towards the river retracing his steps, but this time with a beautiful exotic beast that would bring in many nights of companionship with someone other than Mushin.

Miyabi had heard the commotion outside of her window, but refused to take a look. She was too dazed to speak, too stunned to move.


Lord Tanaka had peeked in her door several times and it was confusing. Needless was the thought that he was checking in on her, but why? Did he know something that she did not? Had he wanted to see what state she was truly in? Or was he just a caring father concerned for his daughter’s safety? She liked to think of it as so and decided that was what she would believe.


She lay in the same position and that bothered him. Tanaka had never seen her like that before and was beginning to wonder if the punishment was a mistake. For the fifth time that day, he shifted his position enough to peek through the thin opening in her door.


Same position. The thin layer of cover rising with each breath.


She was alive and that was enough for now.


“My Lord.” The words were said through a tight throat, visibly stressed.


An irritation crept up his spine. He had not wanted Miyabi to know that he stood outside her door again. He did not want to show concern for the girl, for she might not learn the lesson that he wanted to teach. And now with a simple word, she no doubt knew who stood watch over her.


He turned away on his heels, tight cress in his jaw line. Through his teeth, he answered, “What is it?”


He had not even looked at her, yet and the servant girl felt inadequate. Afraid of facing the man on two feet, she’d rather kneel and beg for forgiveness. His presence commanded it.


The world was closing in on the small woman, but she held her position with a rattle in her knees. “A servant has died, my lord.”


“Was that all, Jin?“


His words caught her off guard and the expression she held showed her surprise. Though it was not allowed she stared up at her lord to assure herself that it was indeed him that she was talking to. How could a man be so heartless? He had just lost one of his most faithful servants and he could not be the least bit of concern. It was shameful and utterly disgusting.


She had not even seen it coming, nor did she feel the heavy hand on her face. It resounded down the hall, turning the heads of all who heard. Her impact to the hardwood floor brought her out of her stupor and immediately she grabbed the side of her cheek more of an instinct, for it neither stung, nor ached.


She refused to look up at him, refused to even move. His footsteps pounded on the floor beside her ear coming to a stop not to far from her head.


“You are never to look at me like that again,” he warned, his voice rumbled in a dangerous whisper, a promise of things to come if she didn’t obey.


How had she looked at him? She found herself questioning herself, going over in her mind the very creases that had contoured her face. Yes, she did look at him questioning, disgusted, and in absolute disbelief.


Lifting her head, she caught sight of the lord’s robes fluttering behind him as he gallantly strolled through his halls towards the servant quarters.


Tears could have come to her eyes, had she not seen him do this to many before hand. Her lord was always too uptight for his own good, but as of late she had noticed the change as had others. They had discussed his sleepless night and his wondering days. They had noticed the way he treated his daughter, the distance between them, and the harshness when he spoke of her. The way he looked at her when he thought no one was watching.


She had seen those eyes before. He had looked at her that way once and then smiled at her as they merged between crisp white linen.


God, how it brought shivers down her spine. The way he touched a woman was wonderful and to this day when she thought of him, her toes curled and she longed to crawl into the sheets with such a man again. But he was a brute and when their nights were over, he was indeed Lord Tanaka. The same man that had struck her only seconds ago and left her with a word of warning.


She was sure that it had something to do with the abrupt ending of their affair. He spoke too much of Miyabi in the night and she had even allowed her name to be called during intercourse, so that she could at least have the pleasure that he provided.


She never told anyone, nor had she spoke of it with him and she would never speak in hopes that she would share the man‘s bed one more night for herself.


He was insane and she knew by ever right what he was capable of doing. God help Miyabi, if he ever got his hands on the girl.

His footsteps made hollow echoes bounce from wall to wall and he was amused. In his own palace the sounds were heavier and gaping echoing from the very structure itself.


Too small, Lord Yamato decided, noting the darkened bamboo that he guessed to have worn with the years. It seemed so feeble looking compared to what awaited him once he returned to his own home. It was foolish to compare the two.


For Tanaka’s small estate would easily fit into his quarters, that he would someday share with his new wife.


As beautiful as she was, she needed refinement. She needed grounding and he was the man to do it. His former wives had been taught the same and each fell into place as would Miyabi. Only she was young and would live longer and healthier than the ones before her.


To have someone so young and fertile beneath him, he mused. It was a desire that he dare not express in the presence of others. He had his pride and would not be denied that if anything else.


Her bedroom was only inches away from him. He had found it on his own, unashamed to enter the girl’s dwellings unannounced. After all, he was a lord. She should be honored that he would even want to lay eyes upon her.


He touched the cool wood shoving the door back with a gentleness that was rare in him, but his presence was still harsh right now in Miyabi’s mind and it was clear when she nearly leaped from her bed to his feet.


Close enough, he smiled to himself noting the servant at her feet caring for her with tea from a small tray. She even jumped at his entry and like a good servant; she bowed at his feet, her hair sweeping her back like a feathered fan. It made him all the angrier.


Miyabi’s hair use to be that way thick lush strains cascading down her shoulders. Many times he had to resist the urge to run his fingers through the black mass. It was out of his character.


“Back to your duties,” he ordered her and she lifted, never daring to glance into his eyes, but he, in turn caught a glimpse of her face. A lovely woman, with looks that could carrying her in his palace. She shifted her gaze nervously back to the lady.


He made lower peasants nervous, he knew and at times it infuriated him, now was not one of those times.


He was more irritated at the mess that sat upon the bed.


Her hair short and stubbly flayed all about her head. She was wrapped tightly in a purple colored cloth. She had not even bothered to redress herself into something more suitable. Her eyes were wide with fear and she shook like a scared rat in the mist of a thousands cats. And this was to be his wife.


Pitiful. At the moment, he’d rather take the girl that offered her tea.


“You have nothing to say,” his first words to her as he halted before her.


He could see the tightness in her throat as she opened her mouth to speak. “I am sorry,” so close to a whisper and so choked, it was barely audible.


Another simple apology, Tanaka explained she had become good at and then she would go back out and do it all over again.


Unacceptable.


She was unacceptable. A mess she was. It only stood out to him that she was still a child.


“Miyabi-chan,” he grunted her name more than spoke it openly and it got her attention as well as that of the woman at her feet. He saw her shift her weight and took in the little woman that she was. “That’s not good enough.”


With a force all his own, he reached, stretching one massive hand towards the woman, and she flinched from him. It did not matter because his fingers still tangled in the disarray of hair on top of her head.


Miyabi cried out as his hand twisted for a better grip and with one hard jerk, he pulled her to the tips of her toes.


Her resolve was breaking as she did not even dare to grab at his hands for release. Instead, she grabbed for the purple cover the she had begun to treasure as her only comfort. It was pointless to fight back.


Yamato smiled inside.


His methods were as always absolute. He had trained soldiers in the fields of battle, who was she that she could not be taught how to live as a lady should.


“The mess that you have made upon your head is unforgivable. Your husband should never see you as such. You will cover your head with scarves until your hair has grown back to an acceptable length,” his breath heated her face.


She was listening and she asked no questions only waited for the time when he released her hair so that she could curl up at his feet. The pain to her scalp brought tears to her eyes and a lump in her throat had started to suffocate her.


It was then that she realized that she was truly terrified of her future husband. She did not wish to see how far his anger went. She only wanted in some way for him to love her and she would naïvely follow his rules in hopes that that was what she received.


Her servant had long since hid her head between her knees, wishing to be spared.


Yamato gave a huff of approval, jerking his fistful of hair before dropping her and she curled up like a baby.


As calmly as if he had done nothing, he asked, “Do we have an understanding, Miyabi-chan?”


Burying her face in the purple fabric, she spoke through sobs that had started to form. “Yes, my lord.” She brought her legs into her chest tighter and waited for him to leave.


As expected, his footsteps led him to her door, stopping a moment to inform her. “Servants will be here soon to pack your belongings.”


The time was finally upon her and her heart had started to ache.


“You will return with me to my palace.”

The beast was large, well-groomed, and overly adorned. His mane had been braided down; long ribbons entwined within each fold and bend the hair made. Not a drop out of place. His thin brown coat was the color of mud, though some of the cleanest mud Tenrai had ever seen. It had been brushed tenderly and held the same gleam as clear water. Each hoof was shiny and brand new, looked as though he had just been fitted.


He fit in perfectly among the peaceful surroundings of the woods. The browning autumn leaves danced all about them casting waving shadows as they floated to the ground.


Perfect, Tenrai smiled patting the top of the horses head with the smile of a true con-man. He adjusted himself and marveled a little more at his beautifully acquired merchandise.


There was not a doubt in his mind that he was indeed strong and maybe a bit too pampered in his stay at the village. He was almost too clean. Who would want a beast so big anyway, but the greediest of them all?


Greed equals money. He could feel the tingly bubbles in his gut. It was excitement, pure unauthorized excitement.


He wondered if the horse could feel the same feelings that he held. As if in answer his huge head began bobbing back and forth wildly and he let out a neigh of glee.


“That’s right,” Tenrai couldn’t help, but to laugh. It was as if he wanted to be stolen. “No, let’s not call it that,” he spoke out loud in response to his own thoughts. Leaning closer to the horses ears, he whispered. “You were merely rescued.”


A sneeze was his answer.


If it wasn’t for the money, Tenrai wasn’t sure if he would have sold the horse. He was becoming quite fond of him as he seemed to feel the same way.


“So you say,” Tenrai laughed at his thoughts as he leaned to the side, shifting his weight to dismount. Meticulousness, he swung his leg over the horses back, lowering it to the ground and miscalculating every step. “Whoa!” His foot swept from underneath himself before his toe could touch the ground and instead his bottom hit the forest floor and hit hard.


The air taken from his lungs made the world spin for a minute and he collapse to the ground, soiling the black robe with light stains of dirt. His eyes trailed the body of the horse measuring his fall, what he noticed brought a smile to his lips until a simple mirth fell upon him.


“No wonder,” he laughed turning onto his stomach to push to his feet. “You know,” he huffed laying flat on his belly a moment. “You’re not the only woman who ever fell in love with Miyatsu.”


Miyatsu, he sighed. He had not used that name in years. It was his father’s name, his name. He questioned himself every time he heard it. Miyatsu was a man who thought so much of his son to give him his name. His father called him special. He called him significant. That was his gift, his memento.


He dropped the name, as a measure against Naraku. It was just another thing that foul demon had taken from him.


A memento it is, Tenrai laughed pushing to his knees, a solid object digging into his arm. With a wrinkle between his brows, he dug into his robes until his fingers brush that all too important bottle. Ah yes, sake. That bittersweet taste on his tongue was just what he needed and even though she was not human, he did have the company of a magnificent female.


“It’s more than I could ask for,” he grinned rising to his feet, dusting the lose dirt from his robe with his free hand. “Isn’t that right…” His sentence trailed off once he realized…


Hmmmm, what to name her? He felt silly, but a beautiful female should of course have a beautiful name.


“Miyabi.” It came from his mouth before he could think and the newly named Miyabi responded with a turn of her head to eye him.


Visions of that pretty little woman racing through the woods towards him, gripping his kesa between her fingers and nothing else to cover herself danced through his head.


A heavy gush of breath raced from his lips as he tore open the bottle of sake and brought it to his lips. He tilted his head back and began draining the bottle until it burned his throat. “Yes, Miyabi,” he spoke once he lowered it. “I am a helpless romantic. What is a man like me to do?”


She sneezed.


“Yes, yes, yes,” he nodded patting the top of her head. The burn in his chest had begun to turn into a tingling in his gut and he lifted the bottle to his lips once again. Closing his eyes at the spinning world, he began to gulp down more.


After a moment of burning bliss, he lowered the bottle once again. This time closing it and smiling at Miyabi. “Now, my love. We must save some for our fellow Mushin. For he will be here any moment.” He eyed the bottle carefully a thoughtful look in his eyes. “Though, I must admit, it does have a pleasant sting to it.”


Shoving it back into his hiding place, Tenrai straightened his back and began to survey the area. He had made sure to keep himself in clear route towards their destination. Mushin was sure to find him and he did, oblivious of the happening of last night. It annoyed Tenrai to be honest. He had not even commented on Miyabi, but he said nothing reminding himself once again that the man had enough on his mind. Trouble and whatever gave him that undeniable twinkle in his eye.


He looked damned happy, glittering like a shining star.


Had he reached nirvana on earth? Was he the living Buddha? Tenrai bit his lip as he grabbed Miyabi’s rein and began to follow behind Mushin in mocked silence. Whatever was on Mushin’s mind was not yet ready to escape his lips.


Once the village disappeared over the horizon, the noonday sun not to far behind, Tenrai could not take it anymore. He had not even noticed the missing kesa of his garments, not even mentioned the wet hair, and more than that had not asked for the small trinket that Tenrai purposely juggled in his free hand.


Abruptly, he halted in his steps, taking in a stifling breath. Miyabi sneezed. He wanted to plan what to say before it escaped his lips. He’d not have Mushin angry while they continued their trail. The thought of the older man’s ranting was sorely out of place in their serene surrounding.


More so than anything else was the fact that he had not even noticed his friend had stopped. What the hell? Tenrai raised a brow at the man as he stood five steps, six steps, eight steps, ten steps behind.


“Do you plan to tell me or not?” His first words since they met on the dirt road.


Mushin stopped in his path, coming to his senses. Only then did he realize that Tenrai was nowhere near him. His head turn left to right and left again.


“Wha-?” Mushin questioned, finally deciding that Tenrai was behind him, surprised to see how far behind.


“Will you not share your happiness?” Tenrai reiterated letting go of Miyabi’s reins enough to shake imaginary dust from his black robe. “That is not Buddha like of you.”


Mushin inhaled deeply before he broke out into a grin that turned Tenrai’s stomach. He had not seen the man so happy. His teeth glittering in the sun like diamonds and his face so strained it was turning a hue of purpled-red. It was down right abnormal on him.


Tenrai in all rights drew away from him, unnoticed by the happiest man on earth. His brow raised, a frown of dismay decorated his features.


Dynamically and haphazardly, Mushin rushed to Tenrai, his eyes still dazed and his grin in place. He did not stop until he was a breaths length away from the man, darnn near knocking him down.


Without question, Tenrai sprung into action. Out of sight of the man before him, he began digging in the selves of his robe. His fingers brushing the thin ofuda papers he kept close at hand.


He should have known by the weird actions, the quiet nature, and definitely by that demon-like grin.


“Stay back demon!” he yelled. In one motion, he met Mushin’s forehead with a thin strip of paper decorated with symbols of purity. Jumping back, Tenrai gripped his right wrist in preparation.


Mushin frowned then, the stars in his eyes turning into daggers of anger. The thin paper floated away from his forehead, falling like a leaf to his feet. Mushin guessed he had been acting a little off, unlike the Mushin Tenrai had come to know.


“There is no demon here,” he mumbled bending to retrieve the ofuda, opting to keep it himself than to give it back to his friend. “I have just found the perfect woman,” he snorted stuffing the ofuda deep into his sleeve. He whirled around, the shine of the setting sun glistening off his bald head, and Tenrai smiled.


Now that was understandable. “Many a men fall to her feet, I am sure,” he commented meaning only sincerity as he hopped and skipped to catch up with his friend who was fast leaving him behind. “When may I meet the lucky woman?”


“If you can keep your hands to yourself-” Mushin tilted his head questioning. “I will truly consider it.”


“Whatever do you mean?” Tenrai took on an air of innocence that only a swindler could muster. “I am the utmost gentleman to those who are deserving.” He fell into step beside him. “Curse this hand of mine. It does things of its own volition. Not of mine, I assure you, my friend.”


Mushin turned to face his friend. It was then that he noticed the difference in the man’s appearance. The void of black he wore. His ranking, his status left to question. It did not make sense for a man to be so careless.


From the shift in his manner, Tenrai knew he had noticed. His face fell like a rock to the ground, and in an instant he was more like a father than a good old drinking buddy. His eyes questioning the robe for answers before he met Tenrai’s eyes demanding that he talk.


Out of good intentions, he did, “It was stolen by a beautiful maiden.” He smiled most charmingly and if Mushin had been someone else, it would have worked. He would have smiled back and patted him on the shoulder, explained that things happened, but he was Mushin.


With a stomp of his foot, he could have yelled at the boy, “Buddha help me.” His temper was rising. How many times did they have to go through such an unnecessary line of reasoning as to why keeping the damn cloth was important?


“It is true.” His words sounded real, sounded pure, but so did the black robe. Once they entered the shrine to the east, what was he to tell the head priest.


“Yes, and she had long hair and float upon a cloud with a kimono of gold!” He was yelling out right and if any saw they would have looked like father and son playing dress up in monks clothing. “How many times has it been this month’s cycle.”


Tenrai straightened his back. Though, he had told the story many times, he felt rather insulted that he was being denied a believer this time around. “Actually,” he stuck his nose high in the air, crossing his arms over his chest.


Mushin’s heart jumped at that. Maybe this once the man would tell the truth? He would find it in his heart to return to the village and retrieve the purple material that he had probably hacked off again in exchange for something. Perhaps he left it in some unsuspecting woman’s hut. Did it wash down river again?


“She had short hair and she ran without clothing.” That was nirvana. Inside, Tenrai smiled at his memories; succulent and bittersweet memories.


Mushin could have fallen on his face if it were not for the rocks that would scrape his skin. Instead he buried it in his large left hand and grunted. “Do you have no mind?”


He was only stating the facts, Tenrai could not help it is these situations arose around him. “It was all Buddha’s doing.” He shuffled his feet not nearly as roused as his friend about his predicament.


“Miyatsu,“ he growled out. That name was his only disciplinary tactic that seemed to get Tenrai’s attention. Buddha knows he needed something and it was no different today.


Tenrai straightened his back, tucking his hands in the sleeves of his black robe. He refused to meet Mushin’s eye. He couldn’t understand if it was shame or just the simple knowledge that, yes, he had messed up again and there was no going back.


Mushin was the only man that held the knowledge of his true name and even then it was only spoken out of anger which showed visibly on the older man’s face. His little round head by now resembled something like a plum with eyes.


Turning away from the older man, lowering his head to cover the light smile that he could hold back no longer, Tenrai prayed that it looked similar to regret. No matter how he tried it was so hard to take his old friend serious in such trivial matters. He was a funny looking angry man, out of sorts.


Whatever clay he was carved out of came from the happiest place on earth.


Tenrai sighed, swallowing what was left of his laughter before lifting his head to stare into the angry man’s eyes once again. He had never been that good in these situations. His father usually got him out of these as a child. He was a quick talker and an easy thinker. Nothing seemed to get past him and yet nothing seemed to anger him.


“Miyatsu!” Mushin demanded. It was not hard to tell when the man’s mind had begun to wonder. It happened so many times.


Tenrai tapped his chin with his index finger in a thoughtful manner and it only serve to infuriate Mushin even more.


“Damn it.” He turned away throwing his hands to the sky in defeat. Nothing could get to the man or at least nothing that did not acquire his interest. To be that free spirited, one would have to be drunk all the time. “Miyatsu, if you were younger…” He turned back to face him, deciding he was not done in his tirade and was met with a smile of glee.


Stretched out towards him was a shiny bottle, a character on the front in bold and black, ‘SAKE’ and everything was all right. Once again he was calm, his insides turned over with delighted and his frown melted like the ice of winter underneath the summer sun.


“Huh…huh,” Tenrai smiled from ear to ear and the fact that he had not been paying any attention to him was long forgotten as the small bottle was ripped from his fingers.


A pout formed on the lips of Tenrai, before the huge beast beside him nudged his arm with the cold wet snout.


As if just noticing for the first time, Mushin back away as though Tenrai had lit him a fire. “What the hell is that?” he questioned taking careful precision not to spill a drop of the sake from its case.


“A horse,” Tenrai frowned at his friend moving closer to the animal and with an affectionate manner, he embraced its neck. “I rescued her.”


“Rescued it?” He turned away from him in disbelief, cutting his sights out of the corner of his eye.


“Her name is Miyabi,” he snapped calmly patting her nose.


“Okay, Miyabi,” Mushin whirled around in a full circle before walking closer to face this Miyabi. “What manner of demon are you?” he asked coming to a stop before her, narrowing his eyes to thin slits. “And what type of spell have you cast on this womanizing man?”


“Womanizing?” Tenrai repeated. “I take offensive to that. She loves me out of the goodness of her heart.”


“Shall we go, Tenrai?” he smiled with a shake of his head, the bottle tight in his hands. “You too, Miyabi.”

She had watched his back as he left, watched servants fill her room, piling beautiful fabrics into bags and loading precious items into small boxes, and now she watched the girl at her feet. She had tears in her eyes and a pray on her lips.


Miyabi recognized her. The girl from earlier that morning and now she begged openly. The servants had stopped chores to eye her.


What a fool she was to them, but they did not matter. Her grandmother had told her to stick with the lady and damn it if she was not going to try.


“Please, take me with you,” she begged through sobs, her nose to the ground waiting. “I have nothing else here.” And truthfully, she didn’t.


Miyabi could only stare and though her face did not show emotion she was rather shocked. She could not even recall the girl’s name. “With me?” She questioned her shifting her weight to the other foot. “I am to leave soon.”


Gekido felt her heart fall to her feet. She could not stay here, not without Miyabi. “But my lady, I will be the best servant there.” She inched closer to her feet, ready to kiss them if she had to. “I will serve you well.”


Miyabi stared, considering her. She was beautiful and someone that could possibly take the lord’s eye from her if deems necessary. After all, it was rumored that he always looked for new concubines. If she invited this girl to join her, she could possibly be what she needed to escape from time to time.


Itsuka, yes, she planned on taking her along without question, but this...this…Gekido. With a name such as that what is she capable of.


A smile crossed her face, unseen since she stepped into the palace this afternoon. Gekido may have been just what she was looking for.