InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Transient Winds ❯ Red Rubies ( Chapter 8 )

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

Tanaka had searched long and hard for power and satisfaction, but had failed. To give up one was to have another and nothing could appease the gluttonous brute that he was. He still looked for more, still yearned and never settled. His heart was in tangles of emotions that even he could not sort through.


And as he stood before his daughter, taking in the light scent of jasmine, he realized that he probably never would be fulfilled.


Tanaka could only stare at the woman. Her colorful kimono flourished like the blood that rushed through his veins and matched the lush color of her lips. On her head draped a matching scarf of Chinese Silk, he had bought months ago during an expedition. It cascaded around her face coming to rest on her shoulders.


So innocent, she was. Sweet and untouched, her eyes gleamed with fear and uncertainty.


All he had to do was say the word and she would have clung to him as a child. He would have cherished it, giving in to his desire to speak sweet words to her, and make her happy. Then he would have eventually worshipped her as he did her mother. She would love him truly, with a purity that only her heart seemed to hold for him. But for how long could he refrain from touching her? To refrain from truly loving the woman that she was becoming?


For the life of him, he needed her to go and never come near her father again. She was his pitfall.


In return, he would obtain power, in place of her love. It was right and proper in such a situation.


Yamato has power; he reminded himself, the power that he wanted. Tanaka dreamed of having such power to rule lands like Yamato. The power that Tanaka dreamed of. A breeze played with the sleeves of his kosode.


Why, he must have been a barbarian to her. He beat her, and tore her down, wanting to rid himself of the feelings that she inspired in him.


But he only needed to say the word and she would become just another woman of the village.


He turned his head with a slight shove to her shoulders. “Go Miyabi,” he ordered her, breaking the serene silence the morning had brought. The sight of her was breathtaking, the smell of jasmine becoming overwhelming.


He was afraid if she stood too close she would hear his heartbeat, feel the heat that had begun to rise off the back of his neck.


If these so called gods existed, what cruel fate was this? He cursed in his mind, his body doing a full spin until the only thing that Miyabi could see was his broad back, embroidered in lovely designs. He had seen enough of her. Long goodbyes had never come easy to him and he never indulged something so sentimental. They were a waste.


“Remember this Miyabi if nothing else, “he warned, a frown upon his lips. “Akusai wa hyaku-nen no fusaku.“. It was the only thing he could think to tell her. Such harsh words, they were at a time when all she wanted was to be missed.


Those had been his parting words and they played like a lullaby in her head as the carriage treaded through the uneven forest. A bad wife is a ruin of her husband. It sent shivers down her back. To think that she would have the responsibility of that man on her shoulders; his reputation and good name. What would he do to her if she did not perform her duty well in his eyes?


Her fingers knotted in her lap and she gazed out the window towards her father’s dwellings.


She wondered if she would ever return or if she was doomed to never see her home again.


It brought tears to her eyes to understand that her father no longer wanted her there. She had been up most of the night in thought. Memories of running naked through the woods would pass in and out of view and she couldn’t help, but question if nothing else why her father had not come to get her as he had when she disappeared after the monk. Then it all came in blunt plain words that made too much sense, pointed her so close to the truth. Plain and simple, the truth hurt.


He did not want her there and had only preserved her for Lord Yamato. He wanted power and that was all. She was nothing to him and now the only one with any thoughts for her was her new lord, Oda Yamato.


For the tenth time that morning, she promised to give herself to him and felt guilty when she recalled her thoughts of the little slave girl that had so thrown herself to her hands and knees begging to travel with her. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had to care for her if he decided to take her hand.


She eyed him out of the small window. He rode upon his prized horse, his back straight and proud. She wondered if he would ever let her ride again.


Blinking back what terror she had of him, she shifted her weight in her seat, vowing to keep quite for the time being. She really did not want to say anything, lest he hear her and ask questions.


Across from her sat Gekido with tears in her eyes. Miyabi did not understand the girl nor did she care to at that moment. She had been crying since the carriage pulled away from Tanaka’s home. Her eyes hazed as she stared out of the window at a plot of land not to far from linen hanging in the fields.


Men stood around leaning upon shoves, whispering amongst themselves, and waiting for something or someone. A huge mount of dirt had been pushed to the side.


It took a while for Miyabi to realize that they were burying someone. Perhaps, it was someone that she knew.


“Hum,” she signed folding her hand across her lap admiring the newly made kimono that decorated her features. Red was her favorite color and from what she could remember it was her mother’s as well. It made her feel special as if she and the woman had some type of connection.


Absentmindedly, she had begun biting her lip, chewing at it as though food.


“Do you think the lord would like that?” Itsuka whispered leaning close to her ear. On her face was a pasted smile something that Miyabi naïvely believed. No matter how much mirth she put into her words, she honestly meant them as a spiteful intent.


If the lord heard her, for sure he would peek in on them and find his lady acting like a child. She had become nothing, but rivalry. With her ignorant ways, she would not know what was really going on until it was too late and Itsuka laughed at that, fed off of that.


It was the same for the cry baby that sat across from them, facing Miyabi, Gekido. Itsuka frowned at her though she had not paid her any attention since the caravan started its departure.


Damn, why would she come anyway? It made absolutely no common sense. She had nothing where they were going. In truth, she was a threat. Not as naïve as Miyabi, but just as beautiful. She smirked rolling her eyes as she turned to stare out of the window.


It didn’t matter. She was Itsuka, the one that the men loved. They spoke sweet words to her, touched her, and proclaimed deep feelings for her. Damn it, she was Itsuka!


‘I love you,’ that was what he said to her.


Mushin. She was starting to hate the thought of that man. Her heart dropped as it had when she was in the storage closet.


‘I will return with money for your freedom from this place.’


“Hmm,“ she sighed resting her chin in her hand turning to the small window on her side of the cabin.


And what if he did return? She would be a lady, or something similar and nothing could stop that. She wanted the glamour, the fame, and she wanted that man that rode so proudly on his new steed beside the carriage.


God, he had everything. She smiled watching autumn colors blur as the carriage speed through the forest. By the time Mushin returned, she would be well taken care of and that was something that he could never provide.


Better times were ahead for her.



If Tenrai could have seen Tanaka at that very moment, he would have laughed. He imagined that old bag searching his cabinets frantically for the missing bottle of sake that had been consumed hours before. Cursing the high heavens and screaming at unreliable servants that he deemed stupid.


It really did not matter, he was smiling anyway. Miyabi had lain on her stomach, understandably tired. The trio had traveled all night and had gotten further than planned. The bottle of sake had lasted and Tenrai was elated.


Mushin had propped himself against a withering tree. His body was in dire need of rest. Slowly, he slid to the ground with the disposition of a drunken man. As his bottom hit the plot of dirt, he laughed.


“It would not be that hard on you if you would just ride Miyabi,“ Tenrai smiled sprawled out on Miyabi’s back, though she laid sleep.


Mushin turned staring at him most accusingly. “I will never ride on that thing.“ He lifted a warning finger towards her. “It is a demon. I care not what you say.”


Tenrai rolled his eyes, the grin not leaving his face. “I beg your pardon.“ He patted her sleeping head. “She is, but a fine lady. Isn’t that right, Miyabi?” He laughed was an imitation and a failed one. His steps had been lagging behind his friend even though he rode a horse with as much power as Miyabi.


Mushin had noticed. Every now and again he would sneak a glace at his friend and concern would maim his features. Tenrai was dazed staring back over his shoulders as though he had left something behind. Mushin, of all people knew what bothered his friend so and it had stared to bother him as well.


With a stern expression through his tipsy stupor, he gazed at his friend. Tenrai had laid his head down on Miyabi’s back and stared off into the distance with the expression of a hopeless child. It was the same one that he had when Mushin found him hidden behind a small rose bush in his mother’s garden. His father had been gone for a few days and he was inconsolable.


Mushin had not known what to say to him then and he didn’t know now. The only thing he knew was to either spit it out or shut up. With a careful eye on the horse, he chose the first. “Do you want to go back and find him?”


The tension that overtook Tenrai body made Miyabi quiver in her sleep. A tender hand raked slowly through her mane until he was sure she was once again in a peaceful sleep before he spoke. “I don’t think he is back there.”


Silence.


Once again Mushin knew not what to say. How do you console a man such as Tenrai? He had tried once to hug the young boy and he raged into a fit, throwing his fist and kicking little feet at him as though he were the devil himself.


He looked away, uncertain if anything needed to be said.


It was Tenrai who spoke. His voice was a distance murmur and Mushin strained to hear it. “I have trained all my life to become a priest of status. I can sense a miasma further than most and I sense nothing here.”


It would drive a normal man insane. Tenrai knew this. Many times, he wondered what kept him from insanities grip. How could one demon be so illusive, so untouchable? It was beyond anything that Tenrai had faced before and it was the one thing that he longed to face. He longed to know that the curse was merely a dream.


Then he could truly be happy.


Until that time, he would continue to fall into helpless depression. It was irrepressible. Thoughts of the life that he had missed as well as the things that he feared caused him great sorrow.


He sighed in an attempt to regain himself. His eyes gazing at everything, but at the same time nothing.


“I understand,” Mushin replied resting his head against the bark of the tree. Nothing had ever felt as good. He could feel himself dozing even as he waited for Tenrai’s next words and they never came.


Tenrai frowned when the sound of snoring played in the wind. Lifting his head for a moment, he gazed at his friend through what was becoming a pounding headache. A hangover was afoot. Mushin’s head had slum and his legs spread out before him.


“Hmm,” he smirked noticing the morning sunshine glistening so clear off of his lowered head. That familiarity was welcoming and his smirked turned to a grin. “Nope, Miyabi,” he whispered lowering his head to rest. “I’ll never go bald.”



There was a woman in the road. Her feet were bare and aching. A cluster of thoughts bombarded her mind as she kneeled squeezing the small bundle closer to her chest. A stifling cough tickled her tongue. The autumn air had started to bring a chill to her throat.


She had heard the carriage wheels a few miles down the road and wondered if maybe someone had followed her from her parents home, decided that they would return her to where she belonged. So she ran until she could no longer hear the squeak of wood and metal. When she slowed her steps, the bundle on her right would heave and give a small whine until she could once again comfort him and let him know that, yes, mother was there.


Relief would wash over her, until she once again heard the carriage wheels. And even as fatigue would bring about a heavy feeling in her legs, she denied all of that and proceeded to run.


This continued until she could no longer lift her feet and instead fell to her knees and waited. Her little one started to cry then, screaming at the top of his lungs as if like her, he sensed the danger that she was sure approached her.


Miyabi caught sight of her first. Her kimono, a lovely shade of green, stood out amongst the autumn colored forest. It was curious, the way she sat there waiting, her head lowered to the ground. Her arms wrapped around a small heap of blankets. It only took a moment for Miyabi to realize that the bunch of material held something precious.


The old Miyabi would have called out, but this one was apprehensive. She sat quietly, her eyes drifting from soldier to soldier, coming to a stop on her lord. His weight shifted in his saddle, uncomfortable as he glared straight ahead. He had noticed the woman too.


It was Lord Yamato’s weakness, he supposed. He had laid eyes on the woman, a mile down the road and was shocked when she fell to her knees. Her robes were of expensive taste and her hair was glossy under the morning sun. Even the bundle in her arms was in tatters of beautiful rich silk. More importantly, she was poised. Even in such an unladylike position, she held an air of maturity that sparked his attention.


With a lift of his hand, the reins on the carriage horses pulled, bringing the entire convoy to a halt. Making sure to keep a safe distance from the woman, lest she run away again, he dismounted his horse.


Approaching her with the smile of a gentleman, he could have been called dashing. “You there,” he beckoned her attention. Even his voice was soft, lacking the harsh edges that he spoke with last night and from the window of the small wagon, Miyabi noticed.


She narrowed her eyes. The sight of the woman and her lord could plainly be seen through her window.


How she had brought this out of him, she did not know, nor did she understand why he dismounted from his horse to approach her. With a hand as gentle as her mother’s had been, he reached for the woman, smiling like Cheshire cat and as dignified as the emperor. In all honesty, he look absolutely stunning and Miyabi could for the first time see why any woman would fall for such a man.


The woman calmed her pounding heart before looking at him and once she did, Yamato seemed taken back by her. She was royalty that was easy enough to tell, but she was beautiful.


Her lips curved into a cherry colored smile to match the line above her eyelashes. Her hazel colored eyes seemed genuinely relieved as she placed her hand in his to lift to her feet.


“May I ask where you are going?” Yamato pried and she did not seem to mind nor pay attention to the fact that he had not let go of her hand. “Maybe we can help you along your way?”


She cleared her throat before speaking. Life had not groomed her to be a fool. She knew an aristocrat when she saw him and this man was just that. He looked dreamy to her. Not the prettiest she’d seen, but the most dazzling. “Thank you, my lord.”


His eyes never left her face and she was glad that they did not. Her baby was sick and she had no intention of introducing him to this man, lest he be intimidated by his illness.


“My name is Aibo. I am traveling to the next town. My husband waits there for me.” She saw the sparkle leave his eye and hoped her words had not been too hasty. His offer was just what she had been hoping for and she did not wish to lose it.


Logically, his heart fell, but he did not show it if only to bask in her company a little longer. “I am Lord Oda Yamato.” He said his name so boldly it brought stars to her eyes.


“Lord Yamato,” she reiterated with familiarity and recognition. Who did not know of the famous Yamato? His name had been on the lips of the most prominent figures in the land.


“Yes,” he smiled.


“I have heard stories of you.” The bundle switched to the other hip.


Miyabi stared. Itsuka stretched her neck to peer out. She had to get a peek of the woman who had her lord’s attention. They were like curious children. She was older than they were and much more distinguished. To Miyabi, she was a wonder to watch. She danced when she walked and every time she smiled at the lord, his face lit up like a candle.


However, Itsuka hated her before she saw her face. What sort of a woman talked to her lord like this? Trash, she called her, just a common street whore! Itsuka straightened herself when she saw that they approached the carriage. She would not have herself looking distraught when the lord saw her.


The door of the cabin gave way with a grunt and there she stood with a smile and a baby at her hip. Her kimono hung loosely over her right shoulder, drifting to her elbow. Underneath, another kimono of rich color embraced her arm clashing with her pale skin beautifully. Her hair placed in some sort of concoction leaving a short ponytail on the back of her head and neatly done bangs across her face.


She climbed in careful not to harm her baby, while he in turn closed his eyes cuddling up to her. Yamato’s sights were so enthralled with the woman that he failed to notice the way Itsuka smiled at him and that in itself was too much to stand.


If she had seen the daggers that Itsuka shot across the cabin she paid it no attention. Well poised and gentle movements caught Gekido’s eye and for a moment she was more captivating than even the Lady Miyabi. She rested the child in her lap and it curled into her as if an attachment. Her expression relaxed and Yamato closed the door.


“Who are you?” The first words were Itsuka and if she had not known better the woman would have thought that she was indeed the one of status between the three of them, but she could see clearly that the bright red kimono in the far corner was sewn with a little more care than the others, had a little more embellishment than most.


She said nothing to Itsuka.


Slowly, the convoy began to roll again. The woman sighed, the loudest noise in the small space and rubbed the child’s head still covered in the blanket.


“Did you not hear me?” Itsuka enforced her rule, folding her arms before her. Her two companions stopped ogling at the woman to shot her looks of disbelief.


The woman took on an air of royalty destine to put the girl in her place. With the look of the mother that Istuka had long forgotten, she cocked a brow and spoke, “when is it proper for a servant to demand a lady’s name?”


How dare she?!! If Itsuka could have said something back to her she would have, but she knew her place and it was not beyond those words.


“I expect that from your mistress.” With a nod of her head, she smiled at Miyabi, sun glistening off her jade colored earrings. Each of the five adjoining beads cast small shadows of the sun on her neck. She stared at the young woman, she could see her slight uncertainty and it was amusing.


She had been in her position at one point in her life, but now the memories had faded with time and she could only recall bits and pieces that no longer held any relevance.


Miyabi nodded back at the lady, captivated by her smile. The woman reminded her of the kagura dancers that her father had once allowed her see as they passed through her village and she had been captivated by them as well. But this woman was so elegant and exquisite, even her movements held a sense of refinement.


“You look afraid,” her first words caught Miyabi off guard.


Was it that obvious?


She shifted in her small corner. The woman’s attention made her feel important which was something that she had not gotten use to. “I am to become a lady.” She tried to smile back, but it was broken and bent and she still appeared as a helpless child.


The woman was not dumb and it was easy to tell where such a fear came from. “It is something you grow into my dear.” The words intended to spread comfort to the Miyabi, did little to nothing. “Lady Yamato, I presume.”


The words brought about that familiar dread in Miyabi’s eyes, but she did not speak.


“Well,” she turned to the child that lay in her lap. He had calmed down. That was a good sign. “I am Lady Kagewaki and this-” With the soothing hand of a mother, she tugged at the fabrics covering the huge mass in her lap. Rich colors of blue, green and, red slipped from sight, revealing a small creamy face.


Gasp rang out like a chorus of wind.


He lay asleep, but the slight creases between his brows begged to be left alone. Black strips of hair fanned about his head, touching the thin brow that had begun to wiggle in response. A whine murmured from his small pink lips and slowly, he began to squirm. The light invading his candy coated dreams.


The three girls leaned in towards the baby, heads so close they could touch.


“Prince Kagewaki Hitomi,” she announced his name with a sense of gratification. After the struggles of trying to have a child, he had become her pride and joy. “His father will be proud to hold him.”


Neither of the girls cared enough to pay attention, the small round dumpling shaped head gathering all of their consideration. A hand to small to be held shot out of the covers, connected to a chubby arm.


Gradually, the child came alive. Small arms continued to stretch while the tiny body wiggled like a worm between restricting fabrics then when all eagerness set in, his eyes opened leisurely as though nothing mattered.


Miyabi drew away.


Gekido gazed at Lady Kagewaki, questioning if what she saw was real, while Itsuka sat up straight and proper realizing how ridiculous they all must have looked.


Like rubies, his eyes glistened red and stared at Miyabi with the demeanor of a much older man. They were the brightest pair of eyes she had ever seen. They were so round and distant as though they belonged to someone with more wisdom than that of a child.


“His eyes,” she gasped unknowingly and regretted it by blushing pink.


The lady sighed, a smile still on her face. “He was a sickly child at birth. After the struggle to have him, it was no wonder. He went through a horrible fever, but when he survived, he opened his eyes and they were that color, but only for a moment.” Lady Kagewaki giggled and as said those red orbs melted into a hue of black.


If Miyabi had not seen it for her own eyes she would not have believed it. It was absolutely fascinating.


But Gekido inched away. Her reaction went unnoticed. The vibes she drew from the child were frightening and brought a sense of anguish to her belly.


“Yes,” the lady continued. “But he is a fighter and will remain strong.” She rubbed his head absentmindedly and the child eyes closed once again in ecstasy. His mother’s hands were heavenly as he laid his head down to return to his dreams.


Lady Kagewaki smiled loving the feeling of the warmth of her child on her legs. She was a mother finally, with the true love and protection of a mother. In her heart, she swore to protect him to the death and that was what she wanted to do. And that was why she ran.


But that was her secret wasn’t it. How dare they say a demon possessed her child? He had been sick and that had been the reason his beautiful eyes had hazed red. It was a blood condition and she refused to believe anything else. But the words of the priest never left her.


A demon had taken hold of the boy and that was the only reason he survived, but as the boy ages the demon would grow in strength and one day live to kill him. Taking hold of the child was the best and only way the demon could have lived. It had gotten weak and needed an able body and some place to hide.


That was not true and even if it was, she had finally become a mother. And she wanted to be. Nothing could change that and now she and her husband could be happy together.


There was an awkward silence then and each person took a moment of breath. The only thing that could be heard was the small ruffling of fabric as the little child stretched and bent his small limbs. Squirming awkwardly, a snivel escaped his small frame, ordering attention from his mother.


His mother smiled gently, giving only the slightest laugh as she lifted the child placing him of his bottom, giving him a look at the world that surrounded him. Sure enough his eyes widened to capacity eager to find the owner’s of the voices that had woke him. His eyes, once again, stopped on Miyabi.


“He seems to like you,” Lady Kagewaki told her.


Miyabi returned the young child’s stare unable to break away. His eyes were breathtaking as though he was more than just the infant before her and she saw again a flicker of red in his orbs, but she ignored it. As ignorant as his mother, she excused it for nothing more than a side effect of his illness. If only his eyes would stop reading her soul?


The intently looking child continued to sit still watching Miyabi as though she held something that he could not place a finger on and if it was not for his infant form he would have told her that she bothered him. She had met someone of his past, someone who he had avoided. That someone was drawing to close to him, but he would stay in the infant until he had once again regained his strength. Until then, he would rest. He had not thought beyond that.


The squeak of the carriage wheels halting jarred the boy’s attention and he felt relieved to rid himself of this woman. He no longer wanted such a person in his sight, though he had a fondness for Lord Yamato.


“Lady Kagewaki,” her name rolled from his lips as he personally opened the doors of the carriage. Miyabi had not had that luxury. He held his hand out for her again with a cheese of a smile on his face.


Miyabi could only watch in awe as the man said to be her husband escorted the woman from the cabin and onto the dirt trail leading to a village not to far away. He whispered a few words into her ear and brought a smile to her face. She thanked him with a low bow holding her baby close to her chest and was on her way, holding on tightly to the child with the red ruby eyes.



Tenrai could have cried if the tipsy edge of sake had not left his mind cloudly.


How dare he treat her with such disrespect?


He watched the hefty man swing his leg over Miyabi’s back and saw her bulk under his weight trying to adjust to such a heavy change. She did almost effortlessly.


He gripped the heavy sack tighter, reminding himself of why he had obtained the horse in the first place. He turned back to Mushin, perched against another tree still tired from the long walk.


How could the world be so cruel?


“That is all monk,” the man wheezed between bouts of breath, sending Tenrai away from his farm promptly. He did not want to waste time and with a horse like Miyabi he was eager to show the town what he had acquired. Oh, the jealousy she would raise.


Tenrai barely bent his body for a departing bow. He decided early that he was not fond of the man. He reminded him of Tanaka.


Speaking of which, he wondered how his daughter was doing.


Mushin shifted his weight and the crunching of dry leaves beneath his foot reminded Tenrai of his surroundings. “We have almost reached the temple. Let us not stop here.”


That was a lot, coming from the man who could barely keep his eyes open.


Tenrai nodded with a smile, his head still turned to watch Miyabi disappear with her new master. He hated to admit his attachment toward the animal. He was sure it stemmed from childhood issue he had yet to resolve.


He closed his eyes, taking a moment to listen to his own breath. It was calming, his personal form of meditation.


“Tenrai!” Mushin’s voice broke into his peaceful concentration. He had left him behind again.


Tenrai broke into a wanton grin and jiggled the bag at his side as he skipped, jumped, and jogged to catch his companion.


“So, what did he give you?” Mushin smiled noticing his friend start to dig through his reward. Rather selfishly, Mushin took note.


Vigilantly, Tenrai pulled his wondering hand out of the small cloth sack. From his bald fist, he split his reward. Something as rare as this was a treasure and Tenrai would spend it well.


The dazzling little jewels caught Mushin’s eye and he was taken back.


“Rubies?”