Disclaimer

I dun own Inu-Yasha, Final Fantasy, or Trigun~ Sue me an' get nuttin', fer I are ish flat broke~

Iifa Tribal stood on the balcony outside her room of the brilliant Desert Palace that starlit night, gazing at the full-grown moon.

Tribal. That name pierced into her like the end of a rapier. How she hated it.

...Or, rather, it was the attitudes of the desert people she resented. Could they not accept their king's daughter for who she was, regardless of the heritages that ran through her blood?

She sighed deeply, out of both frustration and a deep, powerful longing for respect among the people her father ruled over. She finally understood why Inu-Yasha, one of the highest ranking guards of the palace, acted the way he did, for he too was a Halfbreed.

Halfbreed.

That word, also, was not on her side. They whispered it when she walked among the ancient temples of the Summoner Village, they stared at her blankly when she accompanied her parents in the Black Mage Village, and even received sad or ugly glances from the usually friendly, joyous Dwarves of Conde Petie. And the ill-spirited servants wondered why her personality seemed no better than that of a mouse's.

She raised her slender, pianists' hand to her forehead, as if in a headache. The great, dark blue layers of her most elegant dress ruffled with her hasty, agitated movements.

No, no, no, you're not going to think of yourself like that, Iifa. You may hear these people every day, but you're most likely never going to see them again in your life, and the only person you're ever going to truly spend the rest of your life with is you, Iifa. You're going to grow into a little old woman well before your time if this goes on for much longer-

The rustle of a cloak being thrown.

The young halfbreed woman froze, immediately clutching the jewel in the chest of her gown with both hands. That sort of sound deep in the hours of the night could only spell trouble... All of the servants were asleep, she had checked before she came out. What of the guards...?

Dear sweet Tai Yang. Someone's here.

Her heart rate had suddenly gone up. What was she doing out here, if she knew what was going on? She had to go get inside and alert her mother and father-

The crack of a bullet in the air. Pain blossomed on her back like the horrid petals of the Myconids found in the Ancient Tree of Life she was named after.

A breath of agony made its way between her lips drained of color, clutching her abdomen with both arms in a very vain attempt to stop the horror, and she crumbled to her knees.

A flash of white, a cry from one of the servants, and she was very much unwillingly thrown into the dark, neverending pits of unconsiousness.