Chapter 6
Sesshomaru did not question Mitsuhime about the earlier scene that he had witnessed in the dojo, and for that she was grateful. Lunch slid past and she continued her daily activities, getting herself used to the schedule she was put on. Soon it was dinner and Sesshomaru there was as quiet as normal, giving Mitsuhime a glimmer of hope. Maybe he thought nothing of it.
Dinner ended and Mitsuhime took care to polish the long wooden table. She took time to ponder at the empty seat that was had remained throughout all the meals. She hadn't been in the palace long, but not once had this seat been filled and not once had she been sent to deliver food to a room.
Mitsuhime then noticed out of the corner of her eye, Sesshomaru stood watching her from the door. She refused to meet his eyes; she didn't even bother to show that she had acknowledged his presence. Of course, Sesshomaru hated to be ignored.
"Where did you learn to wield such a weapon?" He questioned, moving closer to the table. He wasn't one for small talk.
Mitsuhime still refused to meet his eye, but wasn't stupid enough to ignore his question. "I taught myself. I practiced in a field by my village with simple farming tools."
"You are lying," Sesshomaru hissed. Mitsuhime winced. She knew that demons had developed senses. That much she was aware of; she just didn't realize their full capabilities.
Mitsuhime sighed and stopped wiping the table. Truth would lead to trust, but she didn't have to tell the whole truth. "My Uncle taught me. He felt that it was necessary for a young woman to be able to protect herself." It was true, somewhat.
She looked up and saw Sesshomaru nodding. She relaxed slightly, he seemed to believe her. "And you felt the need to lie about that why?"
"Not everyone believed I should have been taught to defend myself. It isn't something I feel comfortable telling people," Mitsuhime spoke quietly. Sesshomaru nodded again. She had regained his trust, at least, what little she had to begin with.
"You may finish," He commanded, walking regally out of the room.
Mitsuhime blinked, and then crushed the damp cloth in her hand angrily. She could have done it, right then and there! Mitsuhime hit herself on the forehead. Sesshomaru would have been dead, she could have escaped, and all of it would be done. Instead, she had to finish cleaning the damn table.
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"Now," he said slowly, "I want you to throw this," he handed her a knife, "right at the dummy's head."
Mitsuhime tested the weight of the knife in her hand, and then threw it rather carelessly. He cringed when the knife gave a dull thud, embedded in the wooden wall.
"Close," he began, "but not nearly close enough. Focus, Mitsuhime. That dummy is your enemy. If you miss, you are dead. Do you want to be dead?"
Mitsuhime shook her head, her braid flying to and fro.
He chuckled at his niece's scared face. "Here's what I want you to do," he spoke calmly. "Imagine the dummy is your enemy, someone you really hate. You want them to die, no? And if you miss, they will laugh."
Mitsuhime looked up into the gentle eyes of her Uncle. Sure, he was a force in battle, but he cared for her, more than she had originally assumed. He wanted her to succeed, to show them that she could!
She took another knife, focusing on the dummy. With just enough concentration, the dummy's face became that of Yuu, a village boy who had pulled her braids and dumped water on her head. With strength she didn't know she possessed, she hurled the knife right at Yuu's head. The knife settled deep into the forehead of the dummy and Mitsuhime smiled widely at her success. Yuu had gone down!
Her Uncle's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "I never saw someone catch on so fast," he murmured, mainly to himself, but Mitsuhime glowed with pride. Ha, she was even better than her horrid older cousin!
Her Uncle patted her on the back. "You," he assured, "will grow up with deadly accuracy." Mitsuhime smirked. She didn't plan on letting him down.
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Mitsuhime balanced a tray in each hand. It was a precarious set-up, but she had somehow fallen behind in schedule and did not have time to make two trips. One tray was to be delivered to the dojo; she planned to make that visit quick. The other tray was to go to Sesshomaru's room. She wasn't looking forward to that. Her forgetfulness of last night had left a seething distaste of herself in her mind and it was not quickly forgotten. Maybe today would be the day.
Mitsuhime decided to head to the dojo first. Mainly do so that when she killed Sesshomaru, she wouldn't be needed elsewhere and her escape would be easier. Walking down the little stoned path through the gardens gave her a calming feeling. She slid open the dojo's door with her foot and carefully walked in. Sango was in the same position as she had been last time. But now someone had joined her, shooting arrows at a target. Kikyo or Kagome, she couldn't remember.
"Oh!" Sango gasped, jumping at Mitsuhime's sudden appearance. "I was expecting you!"
Mitsuhime smiled. "Every day I make this journey."
Sango waved her over and the three girls sat down. The miko seemed rather cheery and smiley. Mitsuhime figured it was Kagome; Kikyo didn't seem much of the smiling kind.
"So, what happened with Sesshomaru-sama?" Sango whispered.
Kagome's eyebrows shot up. "What do you mean, what happened?"
Mitsuhime smoothed her apron and sighed. "He merely asked me where I had been trained to handle such a weapon."
Sango nodded. "Was that it? I told him you should train as an assassin. Kitchen duty would be too menial."
Mitsuhime froze. "I-I couldn't be an assassin!" she stuttered. "I'm not-it's just-well, I couldn't!"
Kagome giggled behind her sleeve. "Not just anyone can handle Hiraikotsu with such talent. You underestimate yourself," Sango assured.
Kagome gasped. "She could use Hiraikotsu? And Sesshomaru said nothing of becoming an assassin! He must be crazy! I'll have Inuyasha talk to him and then-"
"No, I do not want to be an assassin," Mitsuhime interjected. "It is not my calling. It is not why I'm here."
Sango and Kagome exchanged glances. "You are sure?" Kagome asked. "It would be no trouble to get you that position."
"I am sure," Mitsuhime insisted. "I do not wish to use my skills to harm, only for defense." Mitsuhime stood up, smoothing out her uniform. "I must deliver this other tray. Farewell."
Kagome and Sango expressed their farewells as Mitsuhime slipped out the door. Sango looked over at Kagome. "I just wonder where she was taught."
Mitsuhime sped down the hallway; she shouldn't have stopped for a chat at all. She grimaced. In fact, she wished she hadn't been forced to go in there in the first place!
She stopped in front of the door that had to be Sesshomaru's. It was larger than most, with a painting of a great white dog on it. She decided it was most likely Sesshomaru's true demon form.
She knelt on the floor, placing the tray down beside her. She reached up to knock hesitantly before bowing quickly. The door slid open with a loud clack.
"Sesshomaru-sama! The servant girl has arrived!"
Mitsuhime stood up quickly, fuming. So the little girl was here as well. Mitsuhime felt the strong urge to throw down the tray and stomp her foot childishly, while screaming out curses. But of course, she didn't. Instead, she slid into the room, right next to the little girl. Sesshomaru looked up from where he sat beside a small table.
"Rin, you are not to open the door without permission," He reprimanded.
Rin bowed her head. "I am sorry, Sesshomaru-sama, I was hungry."
Mitsuhime could have sworn she saw Sesshomaru smile; it almost made her drop the tray. She kept a firm hand on it though, and walked over to the table, setting the tray down.
"I hope it is still warm. It took quite some time for you to arrive."
Sesshomaru's condescending voice grated on her nerves, but she refused to lose her temper. "I am sorry, Lord Sesshomaru. I could have it rewarmed, if that would better suit you. Though, it would take some time."
Rin skipped over to sit across from Sesshomaru. "No, we have waited long enough. You are excused."
Mitsuhime walked over to the door and shut it behind her. Back in the kitchen, Mitsuhime let off some steam.
"He is so temperamental! It was not even that long, I hurried over!" Mitsuhime growled, scaring Shippo.
Ayame patted her on the shoulder, completely understanding. "Sesshomaru-sama only does it to get under your skin. He was probably smiling on the inside." Shippo nodded in agreement.
Mitsuhime's head shot up, remembering something. "Ayame," she asked slowly. "Who does the little girl, Rin, belong to?"
Ayame shrugged. "Sesshomaru's." Mitsuhime's eyes widened. "Then she is a…" Mitsuhime trailed off.
Ayame laughed. "Oh no! Rin is merely his ward. He saved her from death." Ayame leaned in. "You see, his katana, Tenseiga, can revive the dead. Versus his brother's, Inuyasha's, which can kill a hundred yokai with one swipe."
Mitsuhime was stunned. She had never heard of such swords! "Revive the dead? That is impossible!"
Ayame shook her head. "It is true! Of course, there are some boundaries. Like, it can only do so once to each person and it has to be used soon after death."
Mitsuhime snorted. "I knew it, this great sword, reviver of the deceased, is held back by simple boundaries."
Ayame looked taken aback. "Well, it is one-of-a-kind, I assure you! It is not just some magical weapon! It is far superior to any sword!"
"Even Inuyasha's?" Mitsuhime countered.
Ayame faltered. "Well, uh…oh! Don't confuse me! They are two very different swords!"
Mitsuhime just rolled her eyes. Leave it to a faithful servant to try and put both brothers on a pedestal.
"Well," Mitsuhime began, stretching as she stood up. "Lunch is upon us, no? The table should be set!" And with that, Mitsuhime swept out of the room, leaving a very frustrated wolf yokai and a rather confused kitsune.
