Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha nor do I make any profit from this work of fiction.
The future lady of the Western lands was sceptical. Her silver brows furrowed in such a way that they creased the crescent moon that rode high on her pale forehead, she examined the present that her father had left for her. It was a resplendent kimono made of the finest Yokai silks that money could buy, it's detailing was apparently woven from gold thread and the peonies that were embroidered into the hem and snaked up one side were breathtakingly lifelike.
She didn't trust it an inch. The servant had left it with complements of her father, but her father was a petty obstinate man who she'd argued with only the night before; there was no way he'd forgiven her already. Which meant... either it was her mother being crafty and trying to subtly make her apologise to the old dog, or her father wanted something.
"My lady?" Hotaru, her maid, piped up, voice unsure, "Will you be wearing this kimono today?"
Nami narrowed her eyes thoughtfully as she hooked a claw in the sleeve and inspected the delicate silver lining. "Hn... I shall."
Nami kept her golden eyed gaze straight ahead as she moved gracefully through the corridors of the Western shiro, her father had not attended breakfast, nor had he been in his study; this was most unusual and she hated the unsettling feeling that she was missing something.
Her shadows, the servants Hotaru and Sawako, followed at a distance, evidently fretting to themselves over her refusal to attend lessons. Nami almost snorted; as if she could think about lessons when something was afoot. Lessons were boring; she preferred to be doing something. Simply because she was to be the future lady of the western lands should not mean that she was to be denied fun!
Stopping suddenly, she waited mischievously as her shadows attempted to stop so that they wouldn't walk into her.
"You irk me," she announced without bothering to look back at them, "go away."
"But, my lady," Sawako piped up carefully.
"Are you disobeying my order?" she queried softly, the soft inflection of her tone more deadly than if she had raised her voice one iota.
A satisfied smirk curled the young demon's lips as she felt the light breeze that they had created with their hasty departure. She hated them following her anyway; they wouldn't let her climb trees, they worried far too much over missed lessons and hated accompanying her to the dojo for practise. They were really quite pitiful.
Nami mulled her nest move over carefully as she steadily made her way through the shiro. If her father wasn't in his study then the next most likely place was...
Her eyes lit up; of course! Disparaging herself for not having realised it earlier – perhaps the annoyance of having tittering shadows made her cognitive prowess dull – she hurried towards the practise fields.
As of late her father seemed to be continually singing the praises of the general of his great and powerful army; apparently he was barely older than Nami, making him the youngest general in the history of their clan's rule. From what Nami had heard, he was only as respectful as was required, enjoyed toying with the boundaries of his authority and was partial to goading his superiors if they irked him.
Taking a deep red parasol from a bewildered servant, Nami sprinted across the gardens – enjoying the brief freedom of being able to run at full pelt – and arrived at the practise grounds in no time.
The scene was a normal one, a loose ring of shoulders sat on their knees surrounding the two sparring partners who warily circled each other on the tatami mats, to one side her father lounged on a raised platform, sat comfortably on a zabuton with his opium pipe held lazily in one hand.
"Nami-chan!" her father enthused, patting the spare zabuton next to him; indicating that she should sit on it. Nami's pale gold eyes narrowed suspiciously; why was he so happy? It was most irregular.
Deciding that the best way to discover her father's convoluted mechanisms would be to play along with him; she gathered her kimono and gracefully stepped up onto the stage, sketched a proper bow and folded herself into an impeccable seiza at her father's side
"Chichi-ue-sama," she began respectfully only to be cut off by a wave of her father's hand.
"Watch," he instructed imperiously.
Top lip curling at the insult of being cut off in such a way; she bit her tongue and turned pale eyes to the sparring men. They wielded bokken, wore no haori and were barefoot, both seemingly preferring to tie their hair into a high tail reminiscent of a human samurai.
Though they both moved with aggressive grace, Nami's eyes tracked the movements of the bulkier, taller fighter. Like her, his hair was silvery but his eyes were a much darker shade of gold and held more command than her own, something with vexed her inexorably. Proud blue jagged marks adorned his haughty cheekbones and the confidence that he carried himself with seemed to draw the spectators in.
"That is Touga-sama," her father hissed in a stage whisper, "He's the general of my great and powerful army."
Nami's eyebrows quirked upwards, begrudgingly impressed as Touga easily flipped his opponent onto his back.
"Magnificent!" her father burst into a round of applause.
Touga laughingly helped the fallen demon to his feet and then sketched a bow towards Nami. Her lips pursed as she caught the wink that was obviously meant for her alone.
Cocky... her eyes narrowed, and disrespectful.
Before she'd consciously decided to act, her poison whip had lashed out and caught him around his ankle and, with a sharp jerk of her arm, she sent the surprised Yokai tumbling down onto the practise mat, smug smile and all.
Nami smiled in predatory satisfaction. Touga pushed up from the ground to stare at her, eyes twinkling even as a growl slipped between his teeth. This woman was fiery and as much as he relished the burn of her temper, he wanted desperately to return the favour and tease her in turn. What would she do if he were to tease her? He'd bet she'd show him the inferno of her anger again...
The wink hadn't been to disrespect the lady in any way, he was merely trying to establish some sort of camaraderie between the two of them; he knew better than to disrespect a lady of her standing. The only reason he'd done it was because she'd been so prim and poised and proper sat in a straight shouldered seiza on the stage that he'd wanted her to show him her honne. It had worked.
"Magnificent?" she queried, tilting her head to one side, "Hn, I don't see it, Chichi-ue-sama."
Getting to his feet gracefully, Touga brushed himself down casually before remarking, "Keh, you'll see... it time, my lady."
Nami's eyes narrowed suspiciously at the slight leer he injected into his tone. "Chichi-ue-sama?" she demanded.
Her father, who had been content to sip at his tea up until that moment, waved an airy hand. "Didn't I tell you? You are going to be mated to Touga this spring, isn't that lovely?"
0-0-0
On the other side of the shiro, the lady of the western lands flinched as the sound of a tree being felled echoed across the compound and set down her fan in a weary manner.
"My lady?" her servant asked.
Nami's mother rolled her eyes. "Sounds like he told Nami of her betrothal then," she mused, sighing in chagrin, "sometimes I think that my nursery must extend to my husband and my daughter. They both tax me in the same way. Though my dearest husband's temper has never been as charring as my daughters."
Something akin to an explosion rattled the shiro and the lady of the western lands covered her eyes with her hand. "And now the stables need remodelling."
A/N: honne is a Japanese term that means real thoughts and feelings as opposed to the tatemae which is the facade that is most noticeable with was originally posted on November 16th 2010 on the LJ community iyfic_contest for their prompt Silver Lining and I'm proud to say it placed second. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed enough to review!