Author's Note: For news about when upcoming chapters will be posted and for fun illustrations of Sesshomaru and Rin (these are drawings I've found, NOT drawn), go to my profile page. I will be posting a picture to accompany each chapter of this story. I will be updating mostly on Wednesdays and Saturdays.


Yokai Definitions

Hyakki Yako

An annual summer parade of yokai. All human witnesses, unless they are protected, die upon discovering it.

Okuri-Inu

A great mountain dog, often a symbol of death as well as protection. He is similar to the Black Dog from English folklore.

Shojo

Red headed, red faced sea sprites who love sake.

Tsukumogami

Century old household appliances who have, after their long years of servitude, been awarded souls. Be aware, they can be temperamental.

Ushi-oni

A bovine headed oni. There are many kinds.

Yosuzume

A yosuzume is a little black bird who appears and sings before travelers. Her arrival often heralds the coming of the Okuri-Inu.


Chapter III Your Little Yosuzume


Musashi Province, 1487


"How old are you, Sesshomaru-sama?"

Sesshomaru stopped his absent caresses and looked down at the young teen, her head in his lap.

"I am in my fourth century."

Rin's eyes widened, she mouthed a silent, "Wow," and looked away.

After a short pause, she piped up again, "Do you know exactly how old you are, though? I mean, in years?"

Sesshomaru gave her a blank look. Why would he know that?

"No."

She blinked and then shrugged. For a long while she remained deep in thought, gliding her fingers through his mokomoko, letting the soft fur brush over her knuckles. The forest was calm around them. Then she said, "I guess I could understand not knowing how old you are. You're soooooo old. I'm fourteen and a half, but there are so few years to keep track of. It's real easy for me, you know?"

She looked up at him, expecting him to say something. He looked down at her, but had no reply. This conversation seemed unnecessary.

However, Rin was pleased, and he had no objection to that.

After a long silence, she closed her eyes and began to hum. Her voice rose and fell, sometimes trilling high, sometimes drifting off into a breathy whisper.

It suddenly struck him just how young she was.

She was fourteen and a half.

She was an instant.

...


Tokyo, 1989


Sesshomaru stood unmoving in the entryway of his darkened apartment. His eyes were steady, contemplating a small note he'd discovered a moment before under the door. The paper was delicate and outlined with swirling incantations. It was burning his fingertips; the smell of simmering flesh tickled his nose, but he didn't let go.

The digital display on the clock hanging on the far wall shifted from 3:37 to 3:38 AM.

"Sesshomaru-sama?" Came a groggy voice from the black. A set of dimmed electric hall lights flickered to life, but he didn't look up. Jaken was standing in front of him, his bulbous reptilian eyes crusted with sleep. He was positioning a long bamboo stick against the hall's light switch.

The note gave a sudden pop and burst into flame in his hands. With a sigh, Sesshomaru threw it at the little imp.

"Gah! Wha- wha- what did I do Sesshomaru-samaaa?" He cried, frantically juggling the flaming paper. When he came to his senses, the imp batted the note to the ground and stomped it into submission. It smoldered and fizzed by his feet.

Sesshomaru removed his shoes, adding to his servant's humiliation, and strode into the apartment. As Jaken turned to grovel and beg his master's forgiveness for whatever he'd done to upset him, Sesshomaru said something the imp hadn't heard in a very long time.

"It seems, Jaken," his voice had a snap and a heat to it, as if it also burned, "I have acquired some enemies."


earlier…


The night had started out simply enough.

Sesshomaru had arrived at his mother's between midnight and one. And as usual, when he entered Inukimi's apartments, her human servant, Tadao, was there to greet him. He accepted Sesshomaru's gloves and earplugs, tucking them in a small slot in the wall, and beckoned him to remove his mask before joining the main party. Tadao was an old man, somewhere near eighty. He was missing both eyes, but he made sure to hide his deformity with a pair of large, circular sunglasses. He kept a maroon scarf with thin yellow stripes wrapped around his neck, over his grey and white hakama at all times. His chin had a constant tremble and the veins on his small hands pulsed and protruded past the bone.

To many who knew Inukimi, her choice of him as a servant was a significant shift in attitude toward humans; an example of her leadership and her ability to thrive in the new world. She clearly liked being thought of this way, but Sesshomaru knew better. He'd heard her countless re-tellings of how she'd discovered Tadao, blind and alone, just a small boy living in the streets, longing for a home, and hired him as a servant out of pity. He'd heard the old man's odes to her beauty and murmurs of devotion. And for many years he'd seen Tadao sitting alone on his short stool in his mother's foyer, waiting solemnly for each of her guests. They seemed to trust each other, even love each other, but there was something...something, Sesshomaru couldn't help, but feel lurking underneath the surface of their relationship, like some large carnivore gliding under the surface of a dark tide.

He'd asked Inukimi about Tadao once. Why had she hired a small, blind, human child? It couldn't have been out of pity. She didn't pity.

With a distant smile, she'd replied, "I took him in because he has a rare gift, you see. He has something very few humans, and even demons possess."

"And what is this gift?" Sesshomaru had asked.

Now, many decades later, he recalled every so often with a twinge of curiosity, how her smile had deepened in that moment, and she'd said airily, "He knows what to give up."

Looking at his reflection in Tadao's glasses, Sesshomaru nodded and clasped his face in his right palm, pressing his thumb and middle finger against his temples. He let himself relax as a sharp release tore its way through his body. He could smell the electric aroma of his youki as it spiked in the small foyer. His teeth and claws lengthened, and his hair grew long and white. His mokomoko coiled its way, as if it had a life of its own, around his right shoulder, the fur long and thick. Stretching out his hands, Tadao gently accepted the mask.

It was wooden, simply designed and an impressive example of kitsune artistry. As Sesshomaru watched Tadao run his fingers over its smooth, white surface, he admired the maker's craftsmanship. A large blue moon was emblazoned on the forehead, and a red stripe split into two long prongs along the muzzle. Bared in a growl, the teeth were sharp and inlayed with ivory, each growing out of a gum of red wood and cedar. The eyes were wide and bloodshot, each pupil a small, piercing emerald—his true face. The kitsune craftman's laughing expression appeared in his mind's eye. Ironic.

He smiled.

Tadao turned and hung it on a tall wooden post, cluttered with the other guest's masks. As he started to wave him through, Sesshomaru leaned in, looking at the masks on the post and asked, "Has No Madoka made an appearance tonight?"

Tadao furrowed his brow and thought for a moment.

"Mmm. Sesshomaru-sama, I do not believe he has."

"I see. Has he at least made a declaration of attendance?"

The bottoms of Tadao's eye sockets peaked out from under his glasses for a moment as he bit his bottom lip, thinking. He then nodded his head and crouched down, grasping a small box under his sitting stool.

As he stood again, he replied, "No, he hasn't, but now you've mentioned it, a messenger did come by for you. He didn't say who it was from, though. Maybe it was from Mr. No?"

He ran his fingers, his nails a pale yellow at the tips, along the top of the box as he spoke. It was black with colorful flowers of rose quartz and pearl running along its top and sides. Opening it, he pulled out a small tan note, sealed with purple wax and addressed to His Lord Sesshomaru.

"I can't understand why I didn't mention this to you first thing. It was strange. The messenger used your given name when he delivered it."

"He's written it as well."

Tadao put his hand to his chest, "Really? Well that is forward, isn't it, Sesshomaru-sama?"

Sesshomaru nodded, and then realizing his mistake, said, "It would seem so."

As he spoke, he was already leaving Tadao behind. And stepping into the large, circular entryway that served as the gateway to the apartment's main quarters, he heard Tadao mumble a shaky, "Well have a good evening, sir," and slide the shoji door shut behind him.

Now alone, Sesshomaru found himself surrounded by yet more shoji doors. They lined the walls, some leading into private wings, and others connecting to the evening's main event.

Thin beams of hardwood flooring, set in a repetitive haring bone pattern, emanated from a pool of dark green water at the center of the room. Periodically, koi bobbed up and nibbled at the edges of the lily pads. All around the room, decorative lanterns, each imprinted with a red stamp of a fanged dog scull, floated from door to door. Strings of beads hung from each corner and ticked against each other in the gloom. Light from inside the party, as well as shadows of guests, some seemingly human and others not, pressed against the rice paper walls.

He could hear laughter and the clink of glasses, and in some cases, he could hear hissing and mewling and the whispers of those in intimate conversation. The smell of sake was almost overwhelming to his sensitive nose, the smell of sweat was vaguely enticing, and the slight trace of human blood in the air was to be expected.

Sniffing, he came to stop by the edge of the fountain. He held the note in front of him, glancing at the typeface. His name was written in English, each letter rounded, plump, with an ornate twist.

"Definitely from Madoka," Sesshomaru thought.

Slicing the wax seal apart with a claw, he opened the letter and read:

To my dearest friend, His Lord Sesshomaru,

Though I have been advised of your request, I will unfortunately be unable to attend tonight. Let us meet tomorrow.

Warmest Regards,

NO MADOKA

P.S.

Your methods of reaching me, while certainly entertaining to some, were not advisable. Please follow the proper channels in future.

He'd been refused.

Sesshomaru frowned and all he could think was, "Insolence." He stood staring at the letter, and in particular, at the words, "Let us meet tomorrow," for the next several moments.

Skewering that fat monster would have been a real pleasure, but reason stayed him. The world was smaller now. So many had perished in the Great Bombs. No matter how easy it would have been to kill that idiot, repercussions would have followed. It was not so simple to enter into battle these days. His actions held more weight in the new world. Bakusaiga, resting in its display at home, was proof of that.

He frowned. Maybe contacting Madoka through that little man at the hotel had been hasty. There were rules to be followed when living in the human world.

Still, Madoka should have known better. Refusing one such as he, a Dai-yokai, ensured tomorrow's meeting would be unpleasant for the monster. If he didn't come tonight, Sesshomaru was certain the entire evening would be a waste. None of the guests would be aware of his connection to a small human girl from five hundred years ago. Inukimi was the only one who knew of Rin, and he didn't want her anywhere near the subject. Bracing himself for the night ahead, he folded the note carefully into his breast pocket. As he approached one of the glowing doorways, he let his left hand drift up to the front of his mokomoko, and sank his long, thin fingers into the fur.

The door slid open, and he stepped into a cavernous room teeming, almost sweating, with demons, spectres, and ghouls of every type. Most were engrossed in their own conversations, but a few nearest to Sesshomaru, turned and bowed. Tsukumogami carts carrying tea, sake, and various delicacies weaved their way around and through the legs of guests. The wispy notes of wooden flutes floated over the crowd.

Sesshomaru knew that sniffing out his mother would be impossible here. Navigating his way around a large, drunken group of shojo, he pressed on until he saw a glimpse of gleaming, white fur, peaking out between the feet of some ushi-oni he'd never met. After a moment, the beast felt Sesshomaru's eyes on him, and looking up, he stepped aside so quickly he knocked right into a passing tsukumogami cart. As Sesshomaru passed him, he saw an angry tea pot spray the ushi-oni in the face with boiling hot tea. Laughter and cackles burst out all around the unfortunate creature, but he ignored the commotion, preferring locating his mother over lowering himself to the frivolities of such common demons.

Following the trail of fur on the floor, he finally came to a parting in the crowd and saw her.

She was sitting in a tall, oversized armchair. It curved around her like a cocoon, and it was so domineering that it seemed more like a throne than a simple chair. Quite at ease, she was leaning down, holding the chin of one of her admirers, another dog demon named Shigerumaru. His hair, a glowing white was cut short in the modern style. He carried himself like a dandy, sighed like a woman and spoke like a true child of the new world. Born after the war, he was very young, and in Sesshomaru's opinion, beyond infuriating.

He watched as two rotund frog demons, both immaculately dressed, clearly looking for some fun, eyed Inukimi and Shigerumaru. She was nipping at his chin and laughing. He was busying himself entwining her feet with his mokomoko, saying something amusing. The smaller of the two frogs narrowed its eyes, snickering, and Sesshomaru set off at a brisk pace to make his introductions.

"Mother." He interrupted, his voice flat.

Shigerumaru looked up, pink faced and surprised. With his right hand inserted under Inukimi's kimono, tracing its way up the back of her calve, he blurted out, "Sesshomaru! It's great to see you! You finally got here! How do you like the party? Is it up to your standards? I know your mom really wanted you to come."

Grimacing, he ignored Shigerumaru. His mother's raised eyebrow did not go unnoticed.

"My love." She held her hand out to Sesshomaru with a smile.

He stood confused for a moment. Was this some new custom she'd picked up?

"You're supposed to kiss it, you know." Shigerumaru said. He was resting his cheek on Inukimi's knee now, and still hadn't removed his hand from under her kimono.

"Yes! Please do! Amuse your dear mother." Inukimi cooed.

When Sesshomaru didn't move, she turned and said, "Come Shigerumaru, show my stubborn son how it's done."

With a cocky smirk, he responded, "Of course, my love," and pressed his lips to the white skin on the back of Inukimi's bejeweled hand. She never took her eyes off Sesshomaru.

He stood there, the very image of control, never letting his expression slip. They always did this. He made sure to phrase his next sentence carefully, "If this is all you have to say to me, mother, my presence seems unnecessary."

"Oh come on Sesshomaru! You got a stick up your ass or what?" Shigerumaru's voice cloyed at Sesshomaru's senses and Inukimi grew visibly more excited as she observed her son's patience draw near its limit. His eyes betrayed nothing, but the menacing pressure of his youki was slowly silencing conversations all around the room. Guests were taking notice.

With a flick of his eyes toward her now outstretched leg, he began to walk away. Inukimi took note, and immediately rose, knocking Shigerumaru back on his heels, to catch her son's arm. Blowing a kiss her lover's way, she tucked her other hand into the crook of Sesshomaru's elbow and urged him to walk with her.

"What do you say we walk and make sure you are seen, my son?"

"I'd rather not." Sesshomaru answered.

"Amuse me."

Her voice came sudden and harsh. A bark. He said nothing and commenced a slow stride around the room. Inukimi was slightly shorter than her son. She still wore her hair as she had centuries before—in two high clips on either side of her head. Her claws were red, dipped in the blood of the innocent she liked to joke. He'd heard this particular line so many times he'd lost count, but he never doubted its truthfulness. This evening she wore a pink, purple and blue kimono. The delicate silk seemed to have been dipped in a sunset. It intertwined seamlessly with her snow-white mokomoko. Fabric and fur swirled in flamboyant plumes over her shoulders and danced in a long train across the floor.

They walked in silence until they reached the edge of the room. Other than the one shoji door he'd come through, there were no walls or windows, only a steep drop off and the open sky. Like the entryway, the main room was circular, but unlike its counterpart, it was very large. Much like Sesshomaru, Inukimi preferred wide, open spaces to accommodate her natural size. No matter how diminutive and slender she appeared when in her humanoid form, there was never a moment she was not aware of her greater self. So while the world of motor vehicles, and looming buildings dismayed her delicate sensibilities, her personal apartments were magically enhanced to be wide and sprawling.

Sesshomaru looked out over the edge, the warm summer breeze sweeping his hair back. He tucked a stray strand behind his pointed ear and observed the glitter of the city lights surrounding them. Inukimi had started to say something, but his anger with her muffled her usually commanding voice. Rin was out there somewhere. He imagined her, wandering the streets, confused and alone, in the last kimono he'd ever given her. He remembered it clearly. It had been light for the summer days, forest green and covered in large pink lotuses. She'd specifically requested something with lotuses that year. His eyes fell on a giant neon cat, its paw dipping into a large bowl of noodles above a restaurant, and a new wave of anger at Madoka's earlier dismissal made him dig his claws into his mokomoko.

Inukimi's voice suddenly broke through his ire.

"You seem distracted tonight, my sweet."

Not looking at her, he answered, "I was only contemplating how successful your party seems to be."

"Really?" Inukimi looked around, surprised. "Why would you say that? There aren't nearly as many guests as there usually are. I'm really worried about it actually."

Sesshomaru turned in confusion. It looked like the room was at capacity. It was then that he spotted something unexpected and his eyes narrowed.

"You've invited Americans, I see."

Sighing, Inukimi let her eyes flick over a crowd of twenty or so wolf demons standing nearby. The group was loud, young and a necessary burden.

"Yes, I had to. They had reasonable claim to be here. But, be thankful. You do not have to deal with them tonight. They are my responsibility."

He watched with disgust as a young female with flaming gold hair, and skin tight jeans ran up and jumped on the back of an unsuspecting companion. He yipped as she bit his left ear and Sesshomaru could hear the small crowd around the young demon laugh as he cried in English, "Karen! What the hell are you doing? We're guests here!"

Turning back to his mother, he heard her point out incredulously, "The nervous one's father is their leader."

"They seem weak. Not even true yokai." He allowed his voice to darken, and Inukimi's lips quirked up for a moment.

"Yes," she agreed, "They're not like our mountain wolves. They're some kind of superior human." Sesshomaru lifted an eyebrow, but Inukimi continued, "They call themselves Ware-u. Instead of controlling wolves, they turn into them. The whole thing is regulated by moon cycles." She paused, then said, "And yes, they are much weaker than we are, but their country is stronger. As long as Japan is dependent on the Americans, we must not disrupt the relationship."

As she spoke, Sesshomaru could tell she'd caught the eye of one of the pack. She crinkled her nose a little and waved her hand in the wolves' direction. "While I truly think they are as worthless as a brood of half-demons, and while I would absolutely adore stringing each one of them up for the enjoyment of my more deserving guests, I must play the welcoming hostess. They are important visitors. So please, don't do anything rash, Sesshomaru."

"Have I ever?"

"Ha! You forget! I'm your mother! I remember everything you've done." Her gaze shifted back up to him, "And yes. You are your father's son. You are naturally inclined toward the rash."

Sesshomaru exhaled in annoyance. He didn't like it when she compared him to his father. Since she'd met Rin all those years ago, her compliments all sounded more like insults than anything else.

Turning away, he looked out over the cityscape again. Blinking traffic lights and glowing bill boards advertising products, restaurants, and upcoming movies dotted the landscape. Airplanes, carrying hundreds of humans, winked at him with little red eyes across the black sky. It had begun drizzling.

"How long will you be keeping me company tonight, my son?"

He glanced her way and said dryly, "Until you tire of me, I guess."

This made her laugh and she squeezed his arm. Leading him back into the party she said, "Well in that case, let me introduce you to some valuable connections coming in from Kyoto. They have come to help prepare for the Hyakki Yako."

He nodded, and let her guide him through the remainder of the evening.

It wasn't until nearly three that he was finally able to slip out and rejoin Tadao in the foyer. The little man sat sleeping on his stool, his nose and mouth tucked into his scarf. Preferring not to speak to anyone, human or demon, Sesshomaru grabbed his earplugs, inserted them into each ear, dawned his gloves, and plucked his mask from its perch. He placed it carefully over his face and felt his skin tighten painfully around his muscles. His youki grew muted and distant; power suddenly became something he knew he possessed instead of something he felt. Massaging his jaw a little, and cracking his neck, he left the foyer and the sleeping human without a sound.

When he stepped out into the circular driveway, Lucas was smoking, waiting for him several yards away against the limousine. Recognizing his employer, the driver jumped and threw the cigarette on the ground, stamping it out with his heel. The night was cool and the pavement had grown wet in the drizzle. He opened the car door and Sesshomaru slid in wordlessly.

"Home, Mr. Ishikawa?" Lucas called over his shoulder when he got into the driver's seat.

Sesshomaru nodded and sat back, closing his eyes. The night had been as useless as he'd thought it would be. And now that it was over, he was left nowhere closer to his goal. Rin was somewhere in Tokyo, and an untold number of humans stood in his way. His eyes were still closed, and the rhythm of streetlights flashing by was slowly lulling him to sleep. The soft shhhhh of tires rolling over wet ground relaxed the taught muscles in his hands and he let them hang lightly between is long legs.

A whisper of breath tickled across the side of his neck. He heard a soft chuckle, a strange echo clung to it, and he turned. Rin, her round face tanned and sweet, was sitting next to him, leaning back against the car window. She was glowing, enjoying the rays of a sun he could not feel. Her hair was long and brown, a heaping tangle of curls hanging over her small breasts. She was running her hands threw the thick locks, massaging her scalp, relaxed. Her kimono was the same one he'd imagined her in earlier. It was tucked up slightly above her knees; they were bruised and scratched.

"Tell me where you are." He commanded. His voice had a strange echo to it as well.

Confusion flitted across her face, and she looked at him; she'd always looked him in the eye.

"I am where you left me, Sesshomaru-sama. Don't you remember?" She asked, earnestly.

He looked at her blankly. He didn't understand.

knock-knock-knock

"Mr. Ishikawa? Sir?"

He heard the distant echo of a human male's voice. Annoyed, he said to Rin, "We'll continue this in a moment." She nodded and he turned back to see Lucas' face peering at him through the window. His fist was rapping against the tinted glass, vibrating the surrounding water droplets, and with a muffled voice, he was calling, "Sir? Sir, we've arrived."

Sesshomaru opened the door with such force the human driver had to jump back to avoid getting hit.

"Sorry, sir. Will you need anything else from me tonight?"

Sesshomaru gave him a cold glance, replied with a curt, "No", and slammed the door. Lucas' eyes widened in alarm, and he watched as his boss took the steps up to the apartment building with an unnerving agility. He'd told his girlfriend about it a couple weeks before and she'd dared him to ask Sesshomaru whether he'd ever been in the Olympics. Lucas hadn't gathered the courage quite yet.

Wrenching the front door open, Sesshomaru strode past the sleeping security guard, past the elevators, and veered toward the back stairwell.

He wanted tomorrow to come.

He wanted the old world back.

He wanted to kill Madoka.

With a slight growl he bounded up the thirty flights to his penthouse apartment. His feet barely touched the ground. When he reached his door, a slip of paper peaked out from under it. Inserting his key and giving the doorknob a sharp twist, he let the door swing open. The white of the paper glowed against the dark wood of the entryway. Bending down, he picked it up and immediately felt its heat between his fingers. His eyes narrowed and he unfolded the note.

Dai-yokai ~

They know about your little yosuzume.

Beware.

His vision grew red.

The lights turned on.


Chapter IV Preview:

tick-tick-tick

The Akaname Will Come

Rin is found, but by whom?


Please remember to review! And thanks for reading!