Bui-Doi
The Jade Sabre
A one shot song fic written in stream-of-consciousness inspired by "Bui-Doi" from the musical Miss Saigon; the second installment of the Broadway Musical Series
Terminology note: Binin literally means nonhuman and eta pollution in abundance; both are terms for marginalized people who included beggars, street performers, people who were economically marginal, and people who committed crimes. These people were a part of the burakumin caste, the lowest caste in Feudal Japan, and had no rights. They are similar to the untouchable class in modern India, looked upon with contempt.
An insulting term for these people is kokonotsu, (nine), not ten, which makes them imperfect, something less than human.
Sesshoumaru knew from the moment he saw the small child she was different. True, she was human and therefore below him, but she appeared to be below humans. Her simple yukata was thread-bare, the hem several inches too high, indicating it was much too small. The girl's wrists were slender; even with his limited knowledge of human physiology he knew she was dangerously malnourished. She obviously was without parents or guardians. Her orphaned status uprooted any status she might have enjoyed.
Yet despite her lack of any worldly possessions, she offered him fish and mushrooms. He was surprised even if his features said otherwise. This small kokonotsu overlooked everything that had been ingrained into her to help him. Despite the fact that he had neither need nor interest in her food, he could not help but be moved by her gesture.
They're called Bui-Doi
The Dust of life
Conceived in hell
And born is strife
The next time he saw the eta, she was beaten and bruised. Logically, he knew it should be common for her, but something about this little girl's battered body bothered him. Perhaps it was because he had never seen an imperfection. True she was human and therefore a lower being than he, but in terms of humanity she was no less disgusting than any human princess.
They are the living reminders
Of all the good we failed to do
What bothered him the most, though, was that even in her poor condition, she still reached out to him and offered her solidarity and food, despite the fact he had previously informed her he had no need for either. In spite of his inhumanity and apathy, her actions caused an odd feeling in his chest, one for which didn't particularly care. Guilt.
This eta, who most certainly received no favorable treatment from anyone save her parents, was showing him more compassion than all the compassion he ever exhibited. Unwanted memories of his mother flitted through his mind. The ways which she would unnecessarily tend his childhood injuries, her smiles, her love for him. His mother had tried to instill some compassion in him as a pup, but after her death, he repressed it, along with all of her other teachings. He cursed the gods for his sudden redevelopment of conscience.
We can't forget
Must not forget
That they are all
Our children too
He could not help himself but to ask about her bruised face; it was something his mother would wish him to do. The Binin seemed shocked that he even noticed her injuries, let alone ask about them. All she could do was stare at him and he was uncharacteristically uncomfortable with her looking at him.
Normally he could easily cope with the gaping of others, but this small human outcast was looking at him in a way he had never been looked at before. The shock on her face was not a result of fear but astonishment. It was so odd for him that he told her she didn't have to answer, anything to get that look off her face.
It was a bad decision, he decided, for the look of pure joy and adoration which replaced it was worse. Her innocence caused something in him to stir and part of him wanted to make sure that expression never left her face; it scared him. He was glad when she skipped off.
Like all survivors, I once thought
When I'm home I won't give a damn
He healed quickly from his half-brother's lucky shot and was quickly reunited with his mount and vessel. The Binin was completely out of his life and he assumed he'd quickly forget she even existed. She never really did anything for him. Indeed all she did was stir up unwanted memories.
After she left, he really thought that he would.
But now I know I'm caught
I'll never leave Vietnam
He internally swore, knowing he was not fooling himself. The small human child would not stop haunting his mind, not her manners, not her injuries, and certainly not the protective instincts she stirred in him.
Sesshoumaru could not understand how this one small, insignificant human girl could play with his mind in this manner. If not for his own superior senses, he would have sworn the child was some sort of witch who had cast some sort of spell on him.
War isn't over when it ends
Some pictures never leave you mind
They are the faces of the children
The ones we left behind
Her face just would not leave his mind. Intellectually, he knew humans were more emotional and often wore such emotions on their sleeved, but damn he was not prepared for her. No emotion was hidden from him, neither good nor bad.
His guilt was increasing the more he thought about her. She held such innocence, more so than any normal human child could possibly hold. Despite her background and social caste, she had some dignity in her, strength, and above all else bravery; she tried to help a demon.
He knew she was in trouble. There was no place for her to go back too. A major feudal lord, he could have stepped in, but used the laws of purity to rationalize leaving her.
It was only a cover for his pride.
They're called Bui-Doi
The dust of life
Conceived in hell
And born in strife
The smell of blood reached his nose. Normally he would have continued onward, but today he was drawn to the site. Not for the first time in recent events did he wish that he had not listened to himself. The eta laid in the middle of the road, covered in the bites of wild canines, wolves. He did not hear the words of his vassal as he just looked at the broken body of the girl, still covered in the bruises given to her by her own people.
They are the living reminders
Of all the good we failed to do
We can't forget
Must not forget
That they are all
Our children too
In a deep corner of his heart, though he showed no indication to his vassal, he knew he could have prevented it. He could have kept the abused girl with him and away from the wolves. The small girl was once a living reminder of his mother's broken lessens; now she was a dead one.
These kids hit walls on every side
They don't belong in any place
Their secret they can't hide
Its printed on their face
There was no way to ignore her death; her blank eyes just stare back at him. In his mind they accused him. They said why did you not help me. You knew my pain. I thought you cared. He had seen thousands of dead eyes in his life, many of which he had personally killed. Some had been foreigners, some had been allies, some had been friends; none had elicited this type of reaction.
I never thought I'd plead
For half-breeds from a land that's torn
If anyone were to have asked him even a month ago if he would ever even contemplate saving a human, he would have killed them directly for such insult. But now, as he looked upon her vacant face, he felt uneasy about her death. A part of him wished he return the happiness he had only just yesterday seen on her face. Another part wished he could ignore the call of Tenseiga.
But then I saw a camp for children
Whose crime was being born
He knew he could not ignore his sword's call. The child's blank eyes greatly disturbed him, much more than they should have. Those eyes, in his mind, were supposed to be filled with some sort of emotion, fear, happiness, whatever human eta felt.
They're called Bui-Doi
The dust of life
If anyone were to ask him why he brought the child back to life, especially an eta, he would have told them it was merely to test the power of Tenseiga. The girl was just a convinced. But he knew deep in the depths of his heart it was really desire to see her smile again, to see this obviously strong child's face light up in admiration. She had changed him. slightly.
Conceived in hell
And born in strife
We owe them fathers, and a family -
And loving home they never knew
He, himself, was slightly surprised when she woke in his arms. Holding her had instinctually been the proper thing to do. If the sword did not work, he could have at least prepared her for her journey to the afterlife. Look she gave him held him captive; it was more powerful than the one
Because we know
Deep in our hearts
That they are all
Our children too
It was mostly his guilt that allowed him to let the girl follow him. She never complained, never whined, never spoke. At times he would often forget she was even there. It allowed him to bury his feelings for the child. The feelings were quickly dug up after she was snatched by a falcon.
The minute in which she had been in the air was easily the scariest moment of his life. It only took a second to retrieve her, but after that, Sesshoumaru knew his relationship with the child had been forever altered. It was nothing significant, but there was some fondness.
These are souls in need
They need us to give
Someone has to pay
For their chance to life
Help me try
After the encounter, he started to pay more attention to the child. She still never spoke, but she did grace him with her huge smile every time he lifted her into his arm when he noticed her fatigue.
It took time to coax the girl out of her shell, but she soon began to speak again, and he learned her name was Rin. And once she was coaxed out of her depression, she blossomed. Rin still looked at him with the most adoring gazes and he found the barriers which had been in place for centuries beginning to fall. The little human girl was working her way into his heart.
They're called Bui-Doi
The dust of life
As time passed, he found himself growing more and more attached to Rin beyond fondness. Despite the death and destruction she retained the innocence she possessed when he first met her. She had a way of brightening up his day with her adoring smiles and hugs. He found himself looking forward to the pup's little gifts she would give him when he returned from camp. They were never anything significant, a pretty stone, a bouquet of wildflowers, things of that nature. Jaken often called the gifts pointless and while he never verbally corrected his vassal, Rin knew he appreciated each and every one of them. He did not know how, but he was slowly beginning to love her.
Conceived in hell
And born in strife
They are the living reminders
Of all the good we failed to do
Sesshoumaru looked down at the little human curled in the crook of his arm and kissed her forehead. The nameless Binin he had found all those months ago had transformed into Rin. Despite the fact that purity codes would forever label her a burakumin, in his eyes she was nobility.
That's why we know
Deep in our hearts
That they are all
Our children too
Eight years had passed since he had brought his pup back to life. Now she was leaving him again, only this time it was not death taking her but another man. She was getting married. Rin looked stunning in the shiro-maku, spun from the finest white silk. He could not stop the tear that trickled from his left, and it was not missed by his pup. Rin flung her arms around his neck like she would when she was a child. "I love you, Papa."
FIN
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