A Quick Note: This isn't new, nor is it the first time that I have posted this story to . I have reworked and reworked this story several times, and every time, I pull it down and repost it- and it this time is no exception. It's been about two years since the last iteration, and I think that I've finally hit the point where I'm really happy with where it currently sits, and where it might be heading. So, some of you might have read older versions which in all honesty, aren't that different than this, but bear in mind that this is merely re-uploaded as a fresh start! Anyhoo, more notes at the end!
One
The destruction was far worse than he could have ever feared.
He took pride in being calm and collected most of the time, keeping a cool head. But he could feel the beast rising within him, ready to burst from his chest in a violent fit of rage. His hand clenched tightly, trying to calm the blood boiling in his veins.
His wolves had no self-control. They had attacked and pillaged this village, killing all who had resisted. And his humans had resisted, that he could certainly see.
He stood in the aftermath of Kiso-cho, taking in the smoldering buildings as the smoke burned his nose. Death surrounded him.
This wasn't what Kouga had wanted. He had loved this quaint, little place. These were his people; they lived in his lands, even if they were human. They had paid their taxes and in turn he protected them. The thought turned sour in his gut—some protector he was. He would never have condoned this.
"Lord Kouga," said a voice from behind him.
"Ginta," he responded almost immediately. He didn't turn to face him though, instead rubbing at his nose to stop the itching.
"We've rounded up the rogues, M'lord," he said to him.
Kouga nodded. "Thank you." He wasn't an evil person and perhaps that was his flaw. His wolves had made mistakes; what were rules, if there wasn't someone to break them? His soft, understanding heart had been lenient, only banishing them. But oh, how the regret filled him. What was the human phrase? The one about hindsight being perfect vision? He let out a heavy sigh as he considered the thought. "And the humans?"
"I haven't found any alive, but it's hard to tell. Through the smoke and blood, I can't smell a damn thing right now." Ginta paused, hesitating. "The rogues, sir?"
Kouga nodded again. "You know what I will ask; I leave them to you." The words felt sour in his mouth. He tried to keep the emotion from his face, forcing his tone into hardened steel. It wasn't easy. Many of these men he had known for a long time, decades even.
Curse his soft heart.
"I will continue to look around," he finished with a resigned sigh .
"M'lord, you don't have to—"
"Don't be ridiculous." Kouga waved a dismissive hand at him. Ginta regarded him for a moment before bowing and heading back the way he had come. Kouga turned his attention back to the scene before him, the weight of responsibility pressing on him. His gut twisted at the sight of the poor, pitiful village. He forced himself to walk towards it, charred twigs and stones crunching under his feet.
He had all but led his men to slaughter them.
He paused short of a woman sprawled across the ground, barely out of her hut, her kimono pulled open and askew. She was marred by deep gashes across her gut, her lifeless eyes stretched skyward. He regarded her sadly for a long moment before kneeling and reaching out to close her eyes. Her skin was cold underneath his fingertips as they slipped lower, pulling the neckline of her kimono shut.
There was a shuffle to his left and he paused, his hand hovering over the burnt silk. A whimper floated through the air and his ears twitched, his headwhipping towards it. He saw nothing, save for a few potato sacks and a large stack of firewood against a storage shed. He lifted his nose slowly to sniff at the air, but only caught the metallic smell of blood and ashy smoke. He left the woman to investigate. A sack twitched the tiniest bit and his arm whipped out with blazing speed to pull it away.
A little girl cowered there beneath him, arms held over her head as she trembled in a bent over lump. Sobs wracked her body and the salty scent of her tears assaulted his nose. He paused, unsure what to do. It wasn't often that he came across human children, let alone crying ones. He was entirely out of his element.
Finally, he knelt beside her, trying to be as gentle as possible. "Hey there," Kouga soothed. "I'm not going to hurt you." She flinched, afraid and there wasn't a doubt in his mind that she knew exactly what he was. He knew what she expected from him and it left an ill taste in his mouth. He hesitated before grasping her arm softly.
The girl started, darting from him with surprising speed, barely slipping through his fingertips. She didn't make it far though, stopping dead as she stared at the woman on the ground. He watched as she fell to the ground beside her, trying to shake the woman awake and then letting out a pitiful cry when she didn't move.
Kouga watched as the child screamed and cried and poured out her heart, realizing that the woman must have been her mother. He took the moment to kneel beside her again and this time she was too distraught to flinch. "Girl," he said softly. She turned her gaze towards him, her eyes wet and red. "Don't cry- child, please."
She gained some of her sense back, trembling as she regarded him. He couldn't blame her; she had seen what his men had done to her village. With great hesitance, he pressed a thumb against her cheek to rub away the tears, being mindful of his claws. Instinctually, she must have realized that he meant no harm and she leaned into the touch.
Without a second thought, he picked the little girl up, cradling her close to his chest as he stood.
Her sobs quieted, leaving only silent tears trailing down her face. The girl was in immense shock. She either didn't care what was happeningor didn't understand. Kouga pitied her. His wolves had done this. It was his fault that her family had been ripped from her. He should have killed them outright.
Betrayal held a steep price and his heart had been far too soft. His hesitation had orphaned this poor girl.
He turned and walked from the ruins, ready to wash the scene from his mind. The girl remained quiet, sinking into his arms and steady pace. He found Ginta on the edge of the village, his fingers and face stained with fresh blood. A confused expression flashed across his features, his head cocked to the side as he regarded the girl, as he licked his claws clean. Kouga glared at him in warning, daring him to ask.
Ginta didn't, opting to remain curious.
"There is a woman who lay dead, back in the town. Bury her."
Ginta nodded without question, taking his leave once more. Kouga looked down at the girl tucked into his chest, surprised to find her watching him. She regarded him with large brown eyes, hollow and sad. Unfeeling, almost. Shocked and full of despair. His heart clenched painfully.
"Come on girl," he finally said, placing a comforting hand on her head. "I'll take care of you."
Clang!
"Ha!" the woman yelled, slashing out with her sword. Metal met metal and sparks flew. She jumped back, smirking at her opponent. Rin couldn't help it. He was giving her a good spar, but she could easily tip this into her favor. It was fun to watch him squirm with annoyance, rage creeping slowly into his stance. She almost tutted at that; men were so testy.
The man growled back at her, the sound bubbling up from the back of his throat. For a moment, she remembered how inhuman he was, how easy it would be for him to crush her throat beneath his claws. But she knew that he couldn't and the thought left her, replaced with the desire to beat him into the ground. The danger of it spurred her on and she easily rose to the challenge.
Even if he wasn't human, men were still men—fickle, fickle creatures.
Especially youkai. They held their pride far too close to their heart.
She slashed at him again and he dodged, falling sharply to the left before swinging her blade back around. His sword flew wildly over his head and she smacked it away with her own, barely catching it. She grunted with the effort; he had the advantage of pure strength. That had been a close call, but he didn't need to know that.
Don't let him see you slip! She could see the smirk on her father's lips, the words falling easily from them, spurring her into action.
"Too slow," she taunted instead. He bristled at the comment, causing her mouth to twist into a sardonic smile. The had beast risen in him, just as she had anticipated. The angrier he became, the more he would slip up. He growled again, quickening his steps. He was fast in comparison to her, but only average as far as youkai were concerned. What he lacked in speed however, he made up in form. His sword technique was damn near perfect and she admired the fluidity of his motions.
Too bad his personality left little to be desired.
His sword fell low as he swung at her feet, and she jumped into the air, kicking over her shoulder in an impressive flip. It was a frivolous show of skill, but she couldn't help herself. Showing off was entertaining, especially in front of arrogant and pompous idiots. Daintily, she curtsied sarcastically before holding her sword up in a poised grip.
The man didn't waste any time, feinting to the left, trying to catch her off guard. He was sloppy though, his eyes giving away his intentions and she followed him, instead of falling for the bait. Whirling around, she smacked the flat of her blade against his heels. Rin knew that it wouldn't hurt, but it did surprise him and he staggered the tiniest bit.
His eyes burned red with embarrassment and anger as he whipped around, his breathing hitched and slightly ragged.
Rin regarded him in their pregnant pause. She supposed that he was handsome enough, his silky hair pulled into a high ponytail. His face was square and angled, but his eyes held contempt for what she was. That was the issue—it mattered not if he was youkai or human, this was her household. She demanded a certain amount of respect.
Rin was used to prejudice, having lived with it her whole life.
She tapped her blade against the ground lightly, taunting him. He fell for it, darting out. She danced around to his right, faster than before and surprisingly strong. Her height had its disadvantage though, and her lankiness made her more of a target than someone more petite.
Lightning fast, he struck out and drew first blood.
Rin stopped dead, glancing at her bicep where a thin, red line was beginning to well up. She frowned, disappointed at herself. She had gotten nicked because she insisted on toying with him.
Another scar, she mused. She rolled her shoulders in a shrug. One more isn't a big deal. You aren't weak!
She snapped from her thoughts with renewed ferocity and sliced at him with a dizzying set of moves. He did his best to follow her steps and met her sword with his. Sparks flew as he rolled his blade to the left, hers glancing off it with a squeal. She stumbled slightly and he smirked, taking the opportunity to smack the flat of his blade against her bum.
Rin seethed as she faltered, eyeing him carefully through a narrowed gaze. She knew that he could smell the anger rolling off her. Smacking her behind had been childish and this tirade was becoming tiring.
He made the next move, darting to the right. She threw off his blow like it was nothing, smirking at his shocked expression. Seeing an opening, she stuck her leg out in front of him. The man pitched forward, falling straight to the ground as he tripped over her foot. His sword clattered against the tile of the courtyard loudly.
Knowing that the match was done, a wide smile burst onto her face, followed by raucous laughter as she watched as he righted himself.
He snapped his attention back to her, his eyes glowing dangerously red in anger. "My Lady," he spat sarcastically, "you dare mock me?" But his outburst only caused Rin to laugh even harder. The red tint faded from his gaze, his anger replaced with irritation. "That was a dirty move, girl," he continued in a clipped tone.
She shrugged nonchalantly. "I told you to move faster."
"You humans always fail to know your place." He spat the word like it was poison in his mouth.
Rin immediately sobered up, regarding him with an icy glare. "Lord Hideki, I do believe that it is you who failed to remember his place. This is my home—"
"That does not change the fact that you are nothing but a human child—"
"You started this tryst with an insult, like a child."
He glared back at her as he picked up his sword. He sheathed it and stuck the weapon haphazardly through the belt around his hips. Regarding her once more with barely concealed contempt, he said, "You are a lucky girl. I would have put you out of your misery instead of bringing you here." And with that, he turned on his heel and left her.
She stood there for a moment, frustrated and angry. They weren't new words; she had heard them since she was a child. As the years passed, the words had cut deeper and deeper. Eventually she old enough to fully understand what her father had risked upon bringing her home. What he had risked, claiming her as his own.
It wasn't her fault that she had been born human.
And often, she wished that she hadn't been. Father had raised her as his own blood, not caring. She loved him and Mother so dearly, but things were difficult, oh so difficult. All the love in the world couldn't destroy prejudice.
"Rin," a voice said from behind her.
She winced slightly. "Father." Judging by his clipped tone, he had been there for quite a while, and if she had known, she wouldn't have tormented the Lord so thoroughly. Gossip spread through the court like wildfire and she already had a less than stellar reputation. Curse her dull, human senses.
Kouga moved to stand beside her and she spared him a careful glance. He looked the same as he always had, with tanned skin and a youthful face. His black hair was cropped close to his head and his blue eyes glittered with amusement. Even as she grew older, he would always look the same.
"Daughter, what am I to do with you?" he sighed dramatically, pressing his fingers against his forehead. "You keep scaring them away."
Rin rolled her eyes, knowing that he wasn't truly angry. Annoyed perhaps, but not angry. "I didn't scare him away," she sniffed. "He picked a fight with me and I won. If he can't handle me, then he doesn't deserve me." Besides, the man was an absolute buffoon. She'd end up killing him long before a wedding actually happened.
Kouga let a smile spread across his face. "You certainly have your spunk," he said tiredly. Silence stretched over them awkwardly and she sheathed her sword, rubbing her thumb along the hilt nervously. "You did very well," he finally finished.
Rin beamed with pride at his compliment. "He was so slow."
"You are fast."
Rin smiled and nudged her father's arm. "And whose fault is that? If only I could kick up tornadoes just by running."
"But you can't," he reminded her with a frown. She frowned too, a line creasing her forehead. He took her hands lightly in his. "Rin," he said softly, "You do realize that that is why I am doing this, right?"
She hesitated before nodding. She tried to tell herself that being paraded around in front of potential husbands didn't bother her. Her father only wanted the best for her, but the older she became, the harder it was to protect her. "That doesn't change the fact that he was an arrogant bastard—"
"Language," he chided, but smiled nonetheless. "Your mother would hang me by the neck, if she heard you speaking like that."
"She would have to hang Ginta-san then, not you," she joked, but he didn't retort with a snappy comeback. She sighed and continued with, "Father, she expects me to be this dainty woman that I'm not. I grew up chasing bugs and rolling around in the mud with Shippou-kun. I'm proud of who I am. My husband must accept that. I refuse to be just some human."
"Is that what he said to you?" he asked quietly.
"No," she spat. "He told me that I smelled like rotting meat. I then told him that he smelled like a wet dog." He hadn't, but dog youkai took their scent very seriously. Lord Hideki had lunged for her the moment the words had left her mouth. She didn't regret it one bit.
"Rin! He is the son of the second cousin to the Emperor—"
"Good, then! He can go off and marry some spoiled princess instead." She watched as her father let out a long sigh, massaging his temple like he had just gained a massive headache. "Is it true?" she asked.
"Is what true?"
"The whole thing about rotten meat and—"
"Gods, Rin, you don't smell bad," her father interrupted, but she shot him a completely unconvinced look. Finally, he sighed and concluded with, "You do have a musky scent about you, though."
"So, I do stink!" she said with an appalled grimace, risking a sniff under her arm. She smelled sweaty but…
Her father laughed at that. "You also smell like the earth and rain, and that lavender soap that you so love to use," he said, reaching out to smooth her hair. He brushed her bangs back from her forehead and leaned forward to place a kiss on her brow. Rin leaned into the touch, sighing softly. Even as an adult, her father never failed to comfort her. "No matter what anyone says Rin, you are my daughter. Never forget that." He pulled away and squeezed her shoulder. "Now, I'm certain that your mother is looking for you. It's past the noon candle mark."
Rin's face twisted into horror. "What? Oh Gods, she's going to kill me—" Her father's laugh cut her off and she groaned dramatically, dragging a hand down her face. "It's not funny!"
He offered her his arm. "We'll tell her that you were with me. It'll cushion the blow slightly."
Rin grunted, but stuck her arm through his anyway and together they walked towards the castle. She almost thanked him, like so many times before, but decided against it. It wasn't something that he liked to hear, and it wasn't quite appropriate. No matter how many times she thought about it, or thanked the Gods that he had found her, she knew that words could never convey how much he truly meant to her. But he would only remind her that he loved her, saying that there wasn't anything to thank him for.
So instead, she just squeezed him arm tightly and thanked the Gods silently.
Ayame watched her tea with disdain, her brow crinkling. Yukiko, her most trusted maidservant, had often told her that it made her look old. But she couldn't help it, nor could she help the small sigh that escaped her lips. As of late, she certainly felt her age, even if she wasn't ready to look it. She watched as Yukiko opened her lips to say something, before changing her mind. Instead, she offered to add sugar to her tea.
"I just don't understand it," she muttered. "She is so beautiful, especially for a human. How hard could it be to attract a husband?"
"I would kindly remind you were not that different, milady. As I recall, you had quite the stubborn temper…" Ayame glared at Yukiko, but the older woman smiled back widely. Ayame sighed at the thought. The woman was right—she had been more than a handful when she was young. Most men hadn't been able to handle her fiery personality, something she wasn't pleased to see Rin inherit.
Still, they had managed.
"I don't think that her beauty is the problem," Yukiko continued. She spooned a bit of sugar into the tea, stirring it gently before handing it back. "Surely you have noticed that she takes after your dear husband."
Ayame smiled wryly at that, thinking exactly the opposite. As a child, Rin had been quiet and reserved. It had taken a few years for the girl to break out of her shell. She supposed that the result could be blamed on her husband though, and Shippou-kun as well. She instantly thought of a certain time that the dreaded fox had taken Rin rabbit-hunting in the Dreadwyld—she had come home covered in mud and missing a front tooth. Thankfully, it had been a child's tooth, because she wasn't sure what she would have done to get around that.
But despite her adventurous upbringing, the girl had grown into a wonderful woman and she truly loved her. The night Kouga had brought her home, she had been less than enthused. Now, she couldn't imagine a life without Rin's infectious grin.
Perhaps that's why she put up with the girl's less desirable qualities.
"I don't know why I ever entertained my dear husband's wish to school her in the sword. She is a lady, not a soldier." Her brow creased with her ever growing frown.
She rarely argued with her husband, but they had fought endlessly about it when Rin had grown old enough. Ayame had seen no point in teaching her such a thing, but Kouga had insisted that it was necessary. It had taken him a long time to convince her, and even now- more than a decade later, she regretted it. Damn her husband and his highly persuasive ways.
"I'm sure that he thought she needed protection," Yukiko offered. She took a small cloth and wiped down the table, picking up small spots of tea.
"We can protect her," Ayame said haughtily. This wasn't a new conversation.
"Not forever, milady. You and I both know that she gets into enough trouble to last her four lifetimes."
"And then some," Ayame conceded. Rin attracted trouble. Sometimes, it seemed like she went out of her way to cause mischief. She immediately thought of Shippou-kun, his youthful face popping into her head. Her lips turned into a sour frown. "In any case, you are right Yukiko," she said, taking a sip of her tea. "Still, wouldn't it be nice for her to actually try and work with us?"
"I do believe that this time, she did." Ayame snorted and her handmaiden looked up from the table. She folded her cloth neatly and set it aside. "Well, she did engage the man on a walk. That's certainly new."
"And it ended in a brawl," Ayame replied dryly.
"He told me that I stink," said a new voice from the door. Rin entered the room, sliding the shoji closed behind her. She had washed her face and neck, before changing into a kimono of orange silk. Yellow cranes were embroidered along it in an intricate pattern. Her obi was a bright green that complimented it well, and her hair was piled on top of her head, caught with a comb. Ayame silently approved, her lips twitching into a soft smile. Much, much better.
"Or," Rin continued, "More specifically, that 'while I was alluring in the feminine aspect, he found it hard to ignore the rotten stench that my human flesh gave off'." She wrinkled her nose as she took a seat next to her mother.
"And so, you pulled a sword on him?" her mother asked, affronted.
"Of course, not." Rin sounded entirely offended. "I told him that I didn't like the way that he smelled either. He was the one that pulled a sword on me." Her mouth twisted into a sly grin and she winked at Yukiko. "A lady must defend her honor, you know."
"Words that your father no doubt taught you," Ayame said with disapproval. And she had no doubt that her husband was highly amused by the whole thing. She had been pleased when Rin walked into the room, but her mood deflated the more that her daughter spoke. Rin noticed, her smile faltering before slipping from her face.
Yukiko took advantage of the tension and knelt by the table to pour the girl a cup of tea. Before she could spoon anything into the cup, Ayame leaned forward to pluck the cup from her hand. "Really, Rin," she chastised. "You cannot keep acting like this." She dropped three spoons of sugar into the cup—exactly the way that her daughter liked it—before stirring gently. She held it out to Rin, who took it, unable to meet her gaze.
Ayame sighed and sat back. "I wonder if you truly understand how important this is?"
That made Rin look to her. "Of course I do! I—" She stopped herself and let out a long breath. "Don't make the mistake of thinking that I don't want to settle down."
"Then why do you continue to send these men away? Rin, you are making it very difficult for me to believe you."
Rin stared at her tea for a long moment before she answered. "I will only marry a man who respects me."
Ayame was baffled by this. Many people respected Rin, even admired her; she had seen it personally. "Daughter, there are plenty of men who think of you as such. You've turned every single one of them away."
But Rin only smiled sadly at her. "No Mother, they respect you and Father. They are only being formal to me." She met Ayame's gaze again, a fierceness in her eyes so different than the sadness that had been there only moments before. "I want to be respected for me, in all my human glory."
Ayame understood better than her daughter would have thought. As Yukiko had so eloquently reminded her earlier, she had been blessed with a harsh temperament that most men had disliked. The difference between her and her daughter though, was that Ayame had come to realize that she would have to make sacrifices to secure her future. Only then, was she lucky enough to meet Kouga.
"That… is a lot to ask," she finally said.
Rin sighed. "I know." There was that bitter smile on her face again, making her seem far older than she was. "This is the one thing that I ask for. I am your humble daughter and I will bring honor to this family, but it must be in my own way."
Ayame reached over to brush her daughter's bangs from her brow. "I believe that I owe you some motherly advice," she said, leaning forward to cup her cheek gently. "As women, this is something that we must deal with, human and youkai alike. We must find the strength to settle with what we can, but you do not have all the time in the world, like I did."
"Beause I'm human."
Ayame smiled sadly at that. "I was fortunate enough to be paired with such a wonderful man. I will try to do the same for you."
"Mother, tell me about how you and father met."
One of her daughter's favorite stories as a child. Rin preferred the way that her husband told it, having often asked for it as a bedtime story until she was almost thirteen. Ayame smiled at the small memory. It was far rarer for the girl to ask for her version.
"Well, I was a tad older than you and maybe not as wise." Rin smiled at that and leaned her head against Ayame's shoulder. "There had been four different arrangements already. One died in The Great War and another ran off with a different woman." She paused and sniffed at that, still offended. "The other two had decided that my temper was a force to be reckoned with. My parents had just about given up on me, I think." That was a bit of an exaggeration, but there was nothing wrong with a little bit of flourish.
"Anyway, they doubled my dowry to draw more men into interest. It didn't work one bit. Men claim that we women are gossipers, but I'll tell you, their lips are just as loose. Apparently, I had a reputation." At this, Rin grinned slyly at her.
"The Great War had just ended and many soldiers were making their way back home. Your father and I met as children and had grown up acquaintances. I was surprised that my parents reached out to him when he came back to these lands. I hadn't seen him in decades." She pursed her lips slightly. "I remember that lunch like it was yesterday."
"And it went well?" Rin asked, her voice already hitched with amusement.
"Ah, dear child, you know how this story goes."
"Yes, but it's so much better to hear it from one of you."
"Hm, I suppose," Ayame drawled, teasing. "Your father would only talk about the war, since that was all he had seen for over a decade. It was exhausting. Really, why did he think it was appropriate to try and woo a woman with tales of blood and gore? Did he think I would be impressed by how many men he had killed?"
Rin laughed. "Probably. He's a man; isn't that what they talk about?"
"With other men!" Ayame exclaimed. "In any case, the lunch went dismally and I was so offended, that I wound up throwing my lemonade in his face, telling him to leave afterwards. I remember thinking, 'Good Gods, this is exactly why I had disliked him as a child."
"And then what happened?" Rin prodded.
"I was terrified that my parents would be angry, but then my mother came to me one day, a smile on her face. 'Ayame, wonderful news!' she said to me. 'Kouga-san has asked you to lunch again next week'. I told her that I wanted nothing to do with him, and to send him away. I ended up going despite that. I told myself that I could scare him off, and I was terrible to him. I did every awful thing that I could think of.
"And then one afternoon, after he had regaled another gory tale of the war, he asked me to marry him. I was in a downright foul mood after his recount of gutting a man, that I had tossed my lunch all over him. And there he was, on one knee, my hand clasped in his and covered in food, asking me this ridiculous question."
"And that was when you knew that it was meant to be, right?"
"Absolutely not," Ayame scoffed. "I told him no and to get out of my sight."
Rin considered this for a moment and then asked, "When was it that you knew it was meant to be?"
Ayame paused and thought, finding it hard to remember that there was a time she hadn't wanted to be with him. She loved her husband dearly, even if it had been a rocky start. "When my mother told me that he had turned down the doubled dowry," she finally said. "Your father had asked my father for my hand, before he ever asked me. He had told him that he had no intention of taking my dowry to begin with."
"Why?" Rin asked with curiosity, apparently never having heard of this. Ayame supposed that her husband would have found this detail far too boring to ever mention.
"He told my father that he would forever feel like a crook, taking money for something that he loved so much already, let alone twice the amount." Ayame smiled at that. "I do suppose that I was being extremely difficult."
"And then it was happily ever after," Rin finished.
"Our happily ever after came the night that he brought you home."
Her daughter's lip wobbled just the tiniest bit and Ayame hoped that she wouldn't cry. But the girl didn't, instead folding her hands into her lap and saying, "I will do my best, Mother."
"Oh Rin, I know that you will. You are young yet," Ayame said wistfully, "and you are still learning. Be the woman that you are. Until then, finish that tea. Yukiko worked hard to brew it and dare I say, it's the best we've had in a long while."
"I will not attack them," the Emperor said. "There has been little conflict for almost a century, and I intend to keep it that way."
"Little conflict, sire? Inutaisho-sama…" The man paused, hesitating. "Perhaps it is past the time of negotiation. Humans are fickle creatures, so easily offended. We shouldn't risk any more attacks."
Inutaisho narrowed his eyes at the man. This certainly wasn't the first time that his advisors had tried to pull him into war with the humans, and he had half the mind to think they were trying to goad him into one. It was easy to profit off of war, especially when you overpower the other side. They didn't have patience for their lesser counterparts and he had no doubt that they would rather just eradicate them.
But that was the difference between him and his council.
These humans lived within his lands—they were his people. As far as he was concerned, it was his job to protect them, not fight them. Even if it meant protecting them from his own kind. He had worked himself to the bone for over a century to keep the peace; he wouldn't let it slip from his fingertips so easily.
"Hiroki-san," he said. Another advisor to his left turned towards him, listening. "I have put forth my best efforts to forge a trust with the humans. We need them as much as they need us. It would take something drastic for me to turn on them and sully that trust—tentative as it is— especially based on accusations of something that might not even exist—"
"Might not exist?" The interruption came from Shinji, Lord of the South. He was a panther youkai with an acidic personality and a penchant for violence. His red gaze regarded the Emperor coolly. "You have seen the result of these weapons, personally. You still claim that they do not exist?"
"Of course, not," Inutaisho responded. "I am merely saying we do not know who is behind such attacks."
Shinji scoffed at that. "It is clear who is at fault. Do you honestly think that our own kind would do this to ourselves?"
"I remember that you once said that humans were far too stupid to form even intelligent sentences. Now you are suggesting that they not only have developed these advanced weapons, but are also capable of organizing an intricate coup? You contradict yourself." The words were spoken benevolently, but his golden eyes stared down the panther like cold steel. Shinji didn't respond and sat back in his chair, ending the conversation.
"I am not ignoring the fact that we have a problem," the Emperor continued. "We will surely investigate it, but I will not respond immediately with violence. That is the very image that I am keen on avoiding."
"I remember that you once said, 'Things are not always as they seem, especially with humans'." It was his wife that had spoken, her voice quiet. All eyes turned to her. She sat on the high-backed throne next to him, her beautiful silk kimono reflecting her high-born and opulent taste. Her long white hair was swept into an ornate braided up-do, held with jade combs.
"Did you not say these words, honored husband?" she challenged boldly, her voice as smooth as the silk that she wore. And he couldn't deny those words, for they were practically a catchphrase of his, even if his intent had been different. "I fear that this alliance you have with them is crumbling away, as all things do after time. It is not surprising though, for peace has always been tentative at best. And yet…" She paused, considering her words. "You hold onto this ideal that it will work, when it clearly has not."
Inutaisho narrowed his eyes at her. He valued himself a patient man, but he could not bring himself to be patient with this particular woman. Love will grow, his mother had promised him. It never had.
"Wife," he said sternly, "My values have kept this kingdom from war for more than a century. Humans are to be our allies."
"We are far too different," she argued lightly. "Humans were made to be ruled and conquered." A chorus of agreement sounded from the rest of the council.
He sighed, tired of repeating himself to deaf ears. Over the decades, he had learned that they never listened the first time around. Or the tenth, it seemed in this instance. It was becoming exhausting. His wife held extreme disdain for humans; he watched the select few that worked in his palace carefully. He wasn't one bit surprised that she opposed his position on the matter.
"You have seen the damage caused by these weapons," she subtly reminded him. "By these rifles."
He frowned wearily at that. While peace had been decent enough, there had been recent skirmishes, mostly on the outskirts of his land where he held little authority. Recently, a regiment of scouts had returned from routing such a fight, gravely wounded by the humans. Large, gaping holes, left behind by metal balls and seared flesh that burned, refusing to heal. Every soldier eventually succumbed to their injuries.
"Our scouts have been cautioned," he said carefully.
His wife shot him an icy glare. "Caution will not bring back those we have already lost. Husband, if we do nothing, they will attack."
"Are you so scared of them, that you think they might win?" he asked her.
She blinked in surprise at the question, her lips curling in anger. "Of course not!"
"Then we will wait." The tension in the room was so thick that you could cut it. Disapproval was evident on his wife's face, a severe line of dissatisfaction etched into her brow. Her eyes glinted dangerously at him, her lips pulled into a tight line. And not for the first time, he was glad that his decision was absolute. To go against him warranted death. He wouldn't say his rule was ironclad, but that alone made his peers far less likely to act against him.
Still, he was certain that his so-called heart was the only thing standing between them and the humans in a war.
Note: When I was first plotting this story, it was a strict Rin/Sesshoumaru, but over the years that I have slowly tinkered away on it, it's pulled away from that and morphed into something else. While there is a lot of romance and angst surrounding it involved, it is not the main plot point- at least not yet. This has a lot of inspiration from Mulan and Princess Mononoke, but is inherently it's own thing, and I'm proud of what I've achieved in bringing those too ideas together. That being said, it's LOOSELY inspired, not based.