Kuroihi attuned herself keenly to the new pulse of the castle. The walls themselves seemed to breathe with the unintelligible whispers of the other staff, shadows crawled about when she was alone, and the limited space of her closet felt as though it was shrinking. Although Fuyutoka strove to keep her out of sight as before, the staff had an inexplicable talent for finding her whenever they so pleased. She lost count of how many times her tasks were ruined for their amusements, and they executed their torments in a manner that left her without grounds to retaliate or complain.
As always, her mind turned toward escape. Even with her small amount of experience outside the castle walls, she figured she could scrape by; but would that still hold true absent her fire? The prohibition on it remained, more especially now. Never mind that her control of it was nebulous at best, Lord Sesshoumaru knew her fire as well as she. If Kuroihi depended on it, she was certain he would find her, to whatever nefarious end he fancied that day. She ground her fangs in frustration. After all she had endured, she was still trapped here, and she could no longer make herself satisfied with her lot.
Spring came around. The General played host to a myriad of allies and contacts, which he boarded in the west wing. For all the servants were concerned, that area was haunted by Sesshoumaru's residual malice. As such, Kuroihi and Aoki were usually the ones assigned to order it when the guests left, for only they would brave that place. Here and there, the visitors forgot a small item or two, which they gave to Fuyutoka for safekeeping until their next visit. Kuroihi found one item she could not bring herself to turn over, however: an orihon-style book about the size of her hand. Instead of rolling as a scroll did, this binding folded a continuous length of connected pages into a collapsible zigzag with a protective cover on each end. As a common lesser servant, she had not been taught how to read or write, but she would find a way to change that. It was an advantage she could not let pass.
She kept the orihon tucked away with her parchment and pin, unfolding it often to trace the characters until she knew the simple ones by rote. It would not do to know only their shapes, however, she needed to know their meanings as well. Kuroihi was unsure when the scholar that left her new treasure behind might return. When they did, she knew she could not simply ask them to teach her, and they would probably demand the book returned to them if it was mentioned.
As the days passed, the other servants honed in on her storeroom. Kuroihi employed every trick she knew to mislead them, but to no avail. She returned one autumn evening to find her closet gutted, and the textiles that comprised her bedding dragged through the dust. Thankfully, they had not found her trove beneath the floorboards. She gathered the few precious items and fled to another level to find somewhere safe to sleep. The game only began anew. By winter, she was forced to relocate again, then once more in spring, and so on.
Between these times, she decided how to approach her literacy predicament. She began leaving specific characters crudely drawn in various places she knew the servants would gossip about; and it worked. They wondered aloud why this character was found here, or that one was hidden away there. Gradually, she came to know more than a handful of those simple characters. Fuyutoka worked himself into a tizzy over her scheme, determined to find whomever was "defacing" the castle. Many of the ambitious lesser servants were interrogated on the matter, and Kuroihi could not help the gratification she felt in their anxiety and her own exclusion from questioning.
By summer, Kuroihi had formed a rough strategy. All the skills she needed to improve were the purview of the Warmaster. The training order from Sesshoumaru no longer stood, however, and she could not simply ask Rekkonji to train her. It was true that select servants and fighters were infrequently exchanged, but this was by the designs of the Warmaster and Overseer. Kuroihi knew she would not find herself on either of their lists. She required someone to speak on her behalf, and the only feasible candidate was Kazawa. They had not spoken once since their former master left, but she was certain there was a way he could be convinced.
The challenge now was to find Kazawa alone. When he was not on the field or with his fellow trainees, he was fraternizing with Aoki, and that was one person Kuroihi did not want catching wind of her intentions. She bided her time for several weeks. Opportunity finally arose when she spotted him ascending to one of the higher levels of the castle. She ensured she was not being shadowed before following after him.
He slipped into one of the rooms on the third floor and began rummaging around. Kuroihi quietly stepped inside and waited patiently against the wall near the door. He tucked what looked to be training garb under his arm and made to leave, starting when he spied her. He narrowed his hard purple eyes in her direction and continued for the exit. She knew he would not allow himself to be caught off guard again; this was her only chance.
"Kazawa-san seems relaxed these days," she observed pleasantly to bait him into an exchange.
Again, he paused, clenching his jaw for a moment. He peeked into the hall before closing the door to the room and pulling her toward its center where they could not be easily overheard.
"What do you want, hanyou?" He demanded impatiently.
She chose to be as direct as was prudent. "Those such as myself have not the freedom of speech in the way those like Kazawa-san do. Even if I wished to speak with the Warmaster, I could not."
Kazawa rose a brow. "And what words could 'one such as yourself' have?"
"Were I so crass as to speak to that gracious one directly, I would perhaps offer my efforts to his honorable self and his warriors. Were it that I was completely lacking in propriety, I might ask to resume the training Lord Sesshoumaru once commanded."
"Why concern yourself with the bygone will of one you no longer serve?" He eyed her suspiciously.
She averted her gaze and fidgeted, hoping he would come to his own conclusion without guessing her true intention.
Kazawa scoffed. "You should be thankful the Overseer took you back at all and stay in your place. Who knows when Lord Sesshoumaru will return; never mind him."
"He will return, though," she ventured," and at that time, he will require the same things as before, including an attendant that can weather the road. Unless, Kazawa-san intends to bear that burden? In which case, this one will humbly stand aside." It was a gamble.
Kazawa scrutinized her as though trying to read her true design. Head bowed with humility, however, she gave away nothing. He smirked. Neither he nor Aoki intended to serve Sesshoumaru ever again, and this was a perfect opportunity to ensure that.
"No need. That solitary honor shall be yours, dear hanyou."
Kuroihi blinked as she puzzled out his meaning, and then bowed in understanding and agreement. Kazawa would ensure her a place on Rekkonji's training field. In exchange, she alone would ensure Lord Sesshoumaru wanted for nothing when he returned. 'I will deal with the ramifications when that far off day comes. This is worth whatever they may be.'
Kazawa was true to his offer. Soon, he delivered word from the Warmaster and Kuroihi found herself joining the volunteers in the afternoon a few times a week. So long as she completed her chores, there would be no overt conflict with the Overseer.
As she trained, however, her shadows followed closer behind, forcing her to move more frequently to remain a step ahead of them. Her sleep began to suffer, and ignoring the jeers of the other hopeful fighters became a challenge. The staff grew bolder. Now and again, Kuroihi caught sight of a familiar silhouette and began to understand their persistence and efficiency. 'Do you hate me so much, Aoki; or is it rather that you have nothing better to do with your time now?' she thought bitterly. Kuroihi considered the prince's manor again, but the thought of the General still made her hesitate. Could she so blatantly defy his command?
'Even if I were to use that place, how would I get in? The doors and windows have strips pasted across them that will rip if I try to open one. I'd have to go in from below; but it hasn't had time to develop the same weak points at the base that the castle has.'
Autumn gilded the landscape and then gave way to the chill. Kuroihi fled daily now, faltered in her training, and struggled to keep up with her chores. She desperately needed sleep, but anxiety kept her watchful through the night. Once more, she thought of the peace and quiet of that lonely abode.
Spring bloomed. Kuroihi missed her training for the first time due to fatigue. Rekkonji's calm chastisement sliced deeper than Fuyutoka's or Sesshoumaru's ever could. Her lack of focus, her degrading performance, and finally, her absence; if it happened again, he would not allow her to return. That was something Kuroihi absolutely could not permit. She gritted her teeth and finally made her move.
'Please, good Lord General, forgive me,' she prayed as she gathered her treasures. The first leg of her flight was a path she had taken before; down into the bowels of the castle and into the crawl space between the ground and the first floor. The supports for the walkway that connected to the prince's manor were shielded on either side with seamless planks, forming a tunnel she could easily pass through unseen. Mindful of approaching footsteps and torch glow, Kuroihi eased her way around the base of the manner, finding not a single weak point. 'Just as I thought… I'll have to force my own entrance.' Her work was agonizingly slow, crawling back to an optimal point and working at the planks with her claws and the tip of the hairpin. Once the space was wide enough, she slithered through and replaced the planks as best she could.
'Halfway there,' she thought. She rested for a moment in the complete darkness, trying to recall the interior of the manor and determine the ideal spot to emerge. All she could do was guess as she chose a spot and set to work. Again, with claw and hairpin, she picked and eased at the floorboards, and working through the glue and sealant took until dawn. She quietly gulped in the fresher air of the musty interior to calm her nerves before hauling herself up and inside. With her adjusted eyesight and the emerging morning light, she took in its state. The once smooth and polished floors had a noticeable layer of dust, the furniture and trimmings were as she remembered them, and the foreboding that once permeated was replaced with a sense of neglect. Dark, sealed, forgotten, it was perfect.
She would need to find a way to ease her passage between here and the castle, though. Sneaking around that enormous building was comparatively easy, since there were plenty of back hallways and crevices she could slip through, and sounds were somewhat muffled. In contrast, her path to this place left her exposed at the most precarious moments. Kuroihi was confidant there was something in the supply stores she could use. Who would notice a bit of it missing?
1267, Mid-Kamakura Period, Autumn
Eight long years had passed since Sesshoumaru was sent to live with his mother. Kuroihi had extended the walling of the walkway to meet both the castle and manor beneath the verandas. Blocks glued to the backs of the various planks and boards made easy handles that could be removed later and leave no trace. She slept well now on a spare blanket stored in the manor, safely hidden from her stalkers. She continued to improve on the field and found herself of use by Rekkonji's designs. With the increased number of volunteers, he grew selective and had not the time to test every one of them. Instead, he assigned Kuroihi and a few sequentially ranked fighters to manage the task. If they could make it through that gauntlet, the Warmaster would consider them. By his indirect suggestion, Kuroihi began wearing a wrap to hide her ears. To her surprise, not a single demon that did not already know questioned her lineage.
Word spread of the Warmaster's trial. Fewer and fewer demons came to offer their efforts on the battlefield to the General. Rekkonji's army honed and prepared; and then the news they anticipated came. Lord Sesshoumaru was returning to the castle-base. The fighters rejoiced, for it meant they would finally deploy, and the servants held their breath in anticipation. Kazawa said nothing, but eyed Kuroihi meaningfully at every opportunity. He would not allow her to forget their bargain.
'That day so far away has come,' Kuroihi thought to herself. She was afraid of what might befall her now, but did not intend to behave so dishonorably as to renege on her unspoken commitment. Fuyutoka quickly agreed to her proposal of seeing to Sesshoumaru's needs, much to Aoki's relief. Kuroihi relished the comfort of her blanket bedding for one more night, contemplating again how to deal with Sesshoumaru. His pride and tendencies could ruin her plans if she was careless, and she knew he would not be accepting of her in the beginning. 'He is a creature of habit and custom, but inserting myself may cause him to reject me even so. I must make myself part of his every day; he must be the one to call for me.'
Sesshoumaru almost breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of his father's castle in the distance. So tedious was life around his mother that he swore half a century had passed. With neither pomp nor circumstance, his father's representatives ushered him through the castle gates and passed him to the marigold attendant that awaited him on the veranda. They bowed and greeted him, welcoming him home, and then led him inside to the meeting room. There, the General sat examining an unfolded orihon as a small group of scholars sat quietly in anticipation. His father's servant directed Sesshoumaru to the side to wait.
Finished, Touga gave a nod and folded the book away.
"This will do. How long until the rest of my library is transcribed?"
"My lord's collection is grand. Without interruption or delay, we estimate another decade."
"Continue, then." Touga dismissed them with a wave.
As they left, he turned his attention to the young daiyoukai, beckoning to him once they were alone. Sesshoumaru complied, kneeling before him.
"It has been some time, chichi-ue," he said politely, but the General did not return the sentiment.
The prince expected one of his father's rambling speeches, but the silence stretched and became unsettling. Touga rested his chin on his knuckles as he examined his son with a rare cold expression. Whatever his father's thoughts were, Sesshoumaru would not be privy to them. Finally, Touga narrowed his eyes slightly and straightened. His tone was the edge of a fine blade, holding none of its usual congeniality.
"I expect you've a greater understanding of things now. The past will not repeat itself." Sesshoumaru nodded to his father's declaration. "You are allowed the manor house, but I will grant you no attendants. Unless and until such time as one chooses to serve you, a guest's hospitality is all you are afforded. I will send for you when I am ready to address you further."
The General flicked his hand and Sesshoumaru retreated. The same marigold attendant that brought him here now led him to the manor, and then departed. Sesshoumaru could not tell if it was cared for in his absence, but found it readied for his arrival today, and all was as he remembered it to be. 'Except for this metallic scent… No matter.' The former sense of removal and tranquility remained in this dim space, but instead of soothing, he found it isolating.
Without zaisu or zabuton, he settled himself on the cold wood floor, leaning back on one of the support posts and drawing up a knee comfortably. 'Father is still angry, I see, to have such a tone and treat me thusly; and I am to remain here, awaiting his summons.' He glanced around the quiet place. The solitude was not entirely displeasing after the years of bustle at his mother's castle, yet he felt as though something was missing. As he contemplated what it could be, he nearly missed the soft tapping at the rear door.
Sesshoumaru blinked. 'Perhaps the guest's hospitality father spoke of?' he thought resentfully. Still, he called for them to come. He stared in disbelief as he watched his former servant, the hanyou, enter and set a laden tray beside him. 'This is what was sent? This…thing?' It bowed to him and welcomed him home. The furious ringing in his ears drowned out the rest of its words. If this was the "hospitality" he was to be afforded, he had no want of any, and his father's razor-sharp tone was now his own.
"Get. Out."
Soon after Sesshoumaru's return, Rekkonji assigned a senior fighter to lead the training sessions in his absence. Together with his warriors, the old jackal departed and saw to the enforcement of Touga's command throughout the domain, as promised. Kazawa continued to pierce Kuroihi with meaningful glances whenever they passed, and it seemed as though the servants were awaiting the outcome of her efforts. While she was again in the castle, they no longer darkened her doorway.
Sesshoumaru found his father a more demanding taskmaster than Rekkonji or his tutors had ever been, wearing the prince down in both mind and body. When he returned to his manor for the day, he found it was always in order and the air laced with something molten. 'Why does this thing persist? For that matter, why is it still here? It easily could have begged for release or simply fled by now.' The hanyou returned every morning and evening with sustenance for him, tapping on the rear wood door to beg entry. He ignored it each time. 'Can it not find another to bother?'
Instead of yielding to his refusal, the creature began placing the trays just inside his door before leaving. A point came where he could no longer ignore the aroma of the various fare. When the hanyou arrived that evening to exchange the tray, it paused, perhaps surprised by the empty dishes it found. He felt its eyes examine him, but did not acknowledge. Without a word, it exchanged one tray for another and left him in peace.
As promised, Sesshoumaru received all the hospitality of a visitor, and not a bit more. He combed his own hair, dressed himself, and fetched the various items he required from his shelves and containers. The hanyou creature saw to his manor and meals when he was there, and while he lacked much that he desired, he was not without anything he required. As such, he tolerated this and waited patiently for Kazawa, Aoki, or another to present themselves to him.
Weeks became months became two years, and Sesshoumaru came to realize that no one would come to him. The General offered him no sympathy on the matter. Such was the result of the reputation Sesshoumaru had earned over the decades; he would taste all its bitter fruits.