So. This is my first attempt at a lengthy, thought-out story.

First things first: I do not own InuYasha or anything pertaining to it. It should also be mentioned here and now that this story has no place in canon; if that bothers you, you might not want to read this. But I did my best to write in-character and to create a believable story arc. I hope anyone who reads this enjoys it. And if you do, let me know about it!

One: A Living Canvas

Why on earth would somebody want to kidnap Tsumi? Kagome wondered. The girl was pretty enough...maybe some cruel lord wished to steal her away? No, that did not seem likely. It would be easier just to negotiate a marriage than go through the hassle of an abduction. Then again, isn't she kind of against marriage? It was difficult to remember the details – everything was so blurry from the last day and a half.

"I don't see why we're wasting our time escorting this girl to a temple miles out of our way," InuYasha griped, hardly making the effort to lower his voice.

"InuYasha!" Kagome jabbed him with an elbow. "You don't always have to be so rude, do you?"

"Humph." The disgruntled hanyou crossed his arms and looked away, chastised.

"It's the least we can do for a pretty lady," Miroku interjected.

Behind them, Tsumi chortled, amused by the monk's hopeless cause. "I'm flattered by your complements, monk," she told him in that quiet voice of hers, "but I must insist that you have no standing with me." Her face softened at Miroku's disappointed flush. "Do not take it personally, Miroku. No man holds standing with me. You are a fine specimen, and I am sure you will find a willing wife someday," she smiled.

"Ha, I think Tsumi needs her eyes checked," InuYasha remarked.

They stopped to make camp near the edge of a rushing river, twilight settling over them like a warm blanket. Crickets began to chirp and a slight, pleasant breeze rustled through the grass. Already, the moon rose through the sky, translucent in the glow of the setting sun. Only high, high above did the first pinpricks of starlight begin to emerge.

Tsumi was a quiet girl, and if not for her impeccable manners, it would have been easy to believe she was stuck-up. She had been attacked by a couple of masked men while the group had conveniently been passing through, and though she'd begged not to be dismissed, the town headman ordered her away to a safer place, a temple in the hills. Of course, when asked if they might see her there safely, there was (nearly) a unanimous agreement, and so that was how Tsumi had come to be a member of their motley gang – however temporary.

"I don't think you should bother her, InuYasha," warned Sango, seeing him head in Tsumi's direction. She had meandered over by the riverbank and was looking contemplative. "She's had such a rough ordeal."

But InuYasha did not listen, walking right past Sango to approach their charge. He sat down beside her, a foot or two away. The shadows had lengthened to the point of consumption, the violent orange dusk the only source of light left.

"You don't mind if I sit here, do ya'?" he asked, if only to defy Sango.

"M-mm." Tsumi shook her head. Her hair was pulled up in a ragged, limp bun, but she seemed unconcerned with fixing it. They were silent for several moments, InuYasha trying to discern a suitable way to ask what he wanted. Maybe he was rude, but he sure as hell wasn't disrespectful. "It is a fine line to walk, InuYasha, the line between rudeness and disrespect. Be wary," she cautioned, an amused smile dancing across her lips.

Can she read my thoughts? he wondered, anxious.

"Not really," she answered him aloud. "If I were telepathic, I wouldn't be speaking to you like this."

"What kind of trick are you pulling?" he demanded, unsettled at the invasion of privacy.

"I apologize," she inclined her head in his direction. "It is a curse. It's..." she searched herself for the simplest explanation, "a result of my purity."

"Oh," he said. "Well...just ignore me, okay?" He sat beside her still, though, his earlier pursuit rendered useless. If she could hear what he was thinking...

"Go ahead and ask whatever you like. But I won't answer unless you do." Her eyes narrowed as she stared down at her own hands, demure and pale. "I feel invasive, answering questions that have not been asked out loud."

"Didn't seem to bother you a minute ago," he grumbled, but got no response. So, out with it, he supposed. "Why is it you won't marry? Got a grudge against men or something? Or is it this purity nonsense?" The notion of being alone was just fine for him, given his situation, but he could not understand such an aversion in a human, especially in a human female. It's one thing to turn down that lecherous Miroku, he thought before he could stop himself, but four years of suitors? And some of them nobles...

Without acknowledging his private thoughts, Tsumi answered his question as if it were a casual inquiry, not the grave, personal matter it was. It almost bothered him that she didn't begrudge him as he'd expected. "InuYasha, if I bore any ill toward men, do you think that would stop me from marrying?" She gazed into his eyes, and between her ocher stare and her strange skill, he felt pierced; he squirmed in discomfort. "And, in ways, yes. My...condition...does bar me from marriage. It has stripped me of some of the usual urges of my tiny, human life. I am not plagued with the incessant ticking clock of ordinary women; I feel no desperate need to bear children."

A stone's throw away, InuYasha swore he heard Miroku groan.

"Even if that were to change, I don't think I'd risk bringing children into the world."

Curiosity itched at InuYasha's ears and despite all that was good and proper – in part because he knew it wouldn't matter – he asked, "Why not?"

Grimly, she smiled. Her lips were blanched and thin, probably from the strain of almost being kidnapped. "I would hate to bestow a similar curse on an innocent life, if it can be helped."

He understood this feeling very well. It was something that had occasionally drifted in and out of the back of his own mind. "I guess that makes sense." He stood to leave, but to his utmost surprise, Tsumi grabbed onto a bit of his hakama. "Huh?"

"InuYasha, thank you," she murmured. She was almost inaudible over the gurgle of the river. "Thank you for voicing your questions. And thank you for being patient with your comrades and their service to me." She let go of him. "It is kind of you, despite yourself," she smiled.

"Yeah, yeah...no problem." He left her by the bank, feeling a little unnerved.

oOo

"How much longer do you think he will be, Master Jaken?" The little girl was staring into the night, somewhat aimlessly, for she had no clue in which direction her guardian might come. "Rin is worried," she admitted.

"I know not, silly girl. Now stop pestering me. I am confident Lord Sesshomaru will return sooner rather than later, unscathed, of course." But even Jaken was starting to get that nagging, nervous feeling. His esteemed Lord Sesshomaru had been gone since high noon, and now the stars had shifted so far in the sky that he was contemplating defying his orders and seeking his master out. But the kappa shuddered at the thought of what consequence would befall him if he left Rin with only Ah-Un for company.

"But Jaken," Rin whined. Like most young girls, she was not good at waiting. And like most demons, Jaken was not good at – or interested in – entertaining young girls.

Not even a second after this exchange, however, did a tiny gleam far off in the sky alert them to their master's arrival. Rin bounced around the dragon, giddy, dizzying Jaken as she dragged him in circles like a puppet cut loose from its strings. "Lord Sesshomaru!" she cried. "Lord Sesshomaru, Lord Sesshomaru!"

"Let me go!" Jaken huffed, feeling nauseous from being flung 'round. This was a mistake. Obedient as she was, Rin released his green hands and he went flying through the air, coming to a bone-curdling halt face-first in the dirt. Apparently, Rin was capable of astounding momentum despite her small size.

Sesshomaru touched down soundlessly upon the earth, chuckling at the scene that greeted him. Immediately, Rin rushed over, stopping short of bumping into him and gazed up at him with wide, sparkling eyes. "Lord Sesshomaru! You are back!" she exclaimed, jubilant. "Rin was so worried!" she confessed.

"It's alright, Rin. All is well." He stroked her hair a moment before turning on Jaken. "Do I find you in good condition, Jaken?" he asked, referring to the fall the imp had just taken.

As if nothing had happened, Jaken was on his feet, bowing at once. "Yes, Lord Sesshomaru, I'm quite well! And so pleased at your safe return – not that I ever doubted –"

"Good," Sesshomaru cut him off. "Then I feel no remorse in criticizing your poor care of Rin in my absence." His voice was an even keel, to the casual observer, but Jaken could detect the angry weight of disappointment in his words. "This meadow is open to more than the elements. What if Rin had been stolen from us? What then, do you suppose?"

"My lord! Who would come for the child?" he gestured to Rin, who at this point was paying no mind; satisfied that Sesshomaru had returned, she was beginning to doze against Ah-Un, the thick fringe of his saddle entangled in her hair. "And how could I have known you'd be gone so long?" begged Jaken, his yellow eyes implicit.

"It matters not," said Sesshomaru, scooping Rin into his arms. She slept on. "No ill came of your misjudgment, which is good." Never taking his eyes off the girl, he spoke softly, "It would have meant your life."

Jaken gulped, but faithfully led a stubborn Ah-Un into the woods behind his master. Heavy silence filled the tense hole between them for a time, until Sesshomaru settled in a smaller clearing, placing Rin to rest on a blanket to cushion her from the many sticks and lumps of the imperfect ground. When he himself had taken a place between the roots of a massive tree, Jaken cleared his throat and dared to speak up.

"Where were you, Sesshomaru-sama, and why for so long?"

Sesshomaru did not answer immediately. He gazed up at the thick canopy of leaves, keen eyes aware of every shaft of moonlight. He considered the meeting he had held: what it meant, what purpose it posed. It would certainly be necessary to relinquish some detail, lest he lose his patience and his servant. But it was not a reveal he relished. Checking to see that Rin was entirely asleep, he then turned to Jaken.

"I have forged a bargain," he began, casually examining a cuticle. "A bargain with Naraku."

Jaken gasped. "But my lord!" he protested, "why, after the shameful way you were betrayed, would you even consort with Naraku again? Why did you not slay him on the spot?"

Once more, Sesshomaru hesitated. He was not sure how much information was worth expending. "That is a foolish question, Jaken." The berated look on the kappa's little, green face lent some pleasure to Sesshomaru's protracted day. "I could not have killed him, given that I spoke only with one of his puppets. He is still a coward," he added extraneously. "In any case, it is a simple pact – one I should be able to easily fulfill. There is little effort and trust, on my part. If anything," he said, "it is Naraku who ought to be wary." The thought excited him, deep down, playing to his vengeful nature. "That is all I will say for now."

"Yes, my lord." But as Jaken stalked off for a place to rest, he couldn't help but feel his master was making a terrible mistake.

oOo

The pounding in his head dissipated almost instantly, but the memory of it lingered. If he never heard the word 'sit' again, it would be only too soon.

"You're not supposed to go around asking people such personal questions!" Kagome told him.

"That holier-than-thou attitude isn't a good look for you, Kagome," he warned, agitated. "And besides, she thanked me for asking her."

"InuYasha, you're so full of it! Why would anyone want to be asked that kind of thing by someone they'd just met?"

"Search me," he pouted, "but she did. And I'm not full of anything!"

"Oh please," she sighed, "you're so full of it, I'm surprised your eyes aren't brown!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Down the line aways, Tsumi placed her hand to one side of her mouth and whispered, "Do they always bicker so?"

"I'd be worried if they didn't," Shippo replied from Sango's shoulder. "Don't worry. It's just how they say they like each other."

Tsumi shook her head. "And people think I'm strange." As they walked along the tapered dirt road, she was consumed by her own thoughts. Cool though she might have appeared, she was inwardly terrified; it was one thing to be openly pursued by a person – this was not the first attempt at abduction she had endured – but it was another matter entirely to not know the identity of one's pursuer. She tried to catalog all the men she had rejected in her lifetime, tried to recall which one of them might resort to such barbaric measures, but no one stood apart from the rest.

"Tsumi, can I ask you a question?" Shippo's voice forced Tsumi out of the whirlwind raging inside. Rarely was she surprised by an inquiry, but she figured she had been too immersed in her own thoughts.

"Of course, Shippo."

"You really didn't mind InuYasha's rude questions?" the kitsune asked, astonished.

"Not at all," she replied. "Any conversation is a welcome change from what I'm accustomed to. And InuYasha is so honest in his queries. It was refreshing." Everybody who knows always tip-toes around me, she thought. I'm sick of it. ...Oh! It occurred to her then: she could not hear Shippo's thoughts! It didn't matter how engrossed in her own thoughts she was or wasn't – she simply could not hear him! It was lovely, the peacefulness of relative silence – she could still detect hints of Sango and Miroku, for they were close by. But one less voice to be heard...it was, nice.

"I have to say," Sango added, "you handled being rescued by a demon well enough. Most people lose it when InuYasha steps on the scene."

"Well, he is only half," shrugged Tsumi. "I've never met a demon before, so he made a good first impression," she joked. Behind them, they could still hear bits and pieces of an argument as it ground down to a terse halt. Looking over her shoulder, she remarked, "He's not half bad."

"It's easier to tolerate him when you don't have to live with him," Sango stated.

They stopped to rest and to eat when the sun was highest in the sky, and again, Tsumi was bombarded with questions, this time for all to hear. She didn't seem to mind.

"So, lemme' get this straight," said InuYasha through a mouthful of Ramen, "you were born a pure soul, and you just stayed that way? How is that possible? Don't you ever make mistakes?"

"InuYasha!" Kagome thumped him hard on the shoulder and he growled.

"It's fine," Tsumi waved. "I honestly don't understand the mechanics of it, but yes. That is essentially the sum of my existence."

"And it prevents you from...from want? From any kind of base instinct?" he dug, much to the chagrin of everyone around him, save Tsumi of course. But the idea was so absurd to him that he forgot all about the chastening glares that were aimed in his direction.

"Not exactly," she answered, stirring the foreign noodles around in the Styrofoam cup. "I still feel everything that you would feel, but the condition prevents me from acting on instinct. Believe me," she laughed, cynically, "I've tried. But I could never achieve an end that was less than becoming. It's maddening," she admitted.

"Sounds it," he agreed, ears twitching.

"What about you, InuYasha, if I may be so bold as to ask. Surely we share some kind of affinity?"

The hanyou pondered his Ramen quietly for a moment. He didn't know if he wanted to answer in front of everyone, and he knew Tsumi would hear his unspoken concern.

"I apologize," she bowed slightly, "it was an impertinent question." And as if she had never asked it at all, Tsumi engaged herself in conversation with Sango and Kagome, praising the wonder of modern food.

She's right though, he thought. I do understand. I know what it's like to want so badly to do the 'wrong' thing... After some long and, frankly, uncharacteristic consideration, he decided to take the matter up with her again when they could speak alone. It would be...alright, he decided, to speak of this to someone.

And just as he'd predicted, Tsumi heard his decision.

That evening, long after everyone had fallen to sleep, InuYasha approached Tsumi. She stayed awake – out of fear, he suspected – and didn't seem bothered by the few, short hours of repose she did achieve. He sat across from her, the fire crackling between them, legs crossed. The shadows created by the smoldering flames jumped across his face at odd angles, making him appear more foreboding in the dark.

"You don't have to discuss it if you do not want," she told him.

"I want to."

"Very well." Tsumi sat quietly, patient, waiting for InuYasha to initiate this delicate discussion.

After clearing his throat and making sure no one was eavesdropping, he said, "You were right, earlier. I do understand. I just..." he paused, unaccustomed to being so free with himself, "I didn't want to scare the others." He jerked his head at the sleeping lumps around them.

"Logically," she nodded. He thought her dark eyes looked tired. Not from lack of sleep, but from some sort of burden, as if she'd carried an immensely heavy boulder this entire time. "I must remind myself of the nature of your own plight – despite our similarities, yours differs greatly from mine." She bowed to him again. "I apologize for presuming as I did."

"It's no big deal," he insisted, flushing. To fill the awkward silence that had descended upon them, he asked, "How can you hear thoughts?"

Her arched eyebrows met in a graceful frown while she decided how to explain it; she barely understood it, herself. "Well," she started, not meeting his eyes, "it is my belief that because of my..." she detested the word, "purity, it is all too easy for the thoughts and wills of others to become my own. As I told you the other night, I do not read thoughts. I cannot reply in return. But they intrude upon my own consciousness perpetually."

"That's awful," he muttered.

"I wish I could say one gets used to it," she smirked, "but that would be too big a lie to tell." Cocking her head to one side, she said, "I noticed that I cannot hear Shippo's thoughts, however. I wonder if it is because he is a demon."

This notion did not grab InuYasha immediately. "Why?"

"Until you and your friends came along – and I am so very thankful you did – I'd never come in contact with demons. I assumed it would be the same. But you are also half human, InuYasha; your demonic nature, suppressed as it is, does not interfere with your human thoughts. But Shippo...I can't glean a thing from him. And it is wonderful," she sighed.

"Must be nice," he said. "Not having to hear the babble that kid is sure to come up with."

For the first time since their meeting, a full-fledged grin burst across Tsumi's face. It was remarkable how drastically such mirth transformed her usually stolid appearance. She was almost beautiful. "If I could trade hearing all the morose babble of adults for the simple babble of a child," she said, nearly laughing, "I would do it in an instant."