A/N: I know it's been a minute since I've updated. I really struggled with the direction of this chapter, purely because everyone thought that the last one was the end of the story (and I'm still trying to figure out how? LOL). As always, it's unbetad, so I'm sorry for any initial mistakes you might find.
Eleven
"I won't allow it!" Rin all but screeched.
Keiko winced, pressing her claws gently to her ears. She doubted that Rin ever thought about it, but her hearing was one thousand times better than a human's, and her shrill exclamation had left them ringing. "Now Little Sparrow, there is nothing-"
"I refuse to hear it!" Rin proclaimed, crossing her arms over her breast, like a petulant child. "I will not entertain such a ridiculous thing."
At that, Keiko frowned. "It isn't ridiculous. I would rather go with you."
It was the first tea time they had shared, since her nephew had… dispatched the Empress. She wasn't sure that murdered was the right term, but he had certainly defeated her. Her heart swelled with pride.
"This is your home," Rin said to her.
Keiko sighed and sipped at her cup. It was a green tea that day, but the brew tasted bland, no doubt soured by Rin's vehement stance.
"My home is with you," she said quietly. She watched Rin crumble, her lip trembling just the slightest.
"But, what of Inutaisho-san?" Rin replied in a soft sob. Not quite crying, but she would be soon. Keiko already could smell the swell of salt, rising up in her eyes. And while she was touched by the girl's affection, it wasn't the time or place. "What of Hiro-san?"
"They've been fine for over a century," Keiko told her gently. "And they will continue to be so." Rin sighed and then hiccuped, her fingers wrapped gently around her empty tea cup. "Rin-san, you are young and perhaps you don't quite understand, but things like this are only material. I'm an old dog, and I will roam where I want to. And right now, my place is by your side."
"I can't ever imagine why," Rin groused, and that made Keiko smile just the slightest of bits.
"I think that you know why, Little Sparrow." At that, Rin sighed again, setting her cup down and folding her hands neatly into her lap. "Have you brought him tea every day?" Keiko asked, intent on changing the conversation.
"He always refuses it," Rin said defeated. But then her eyebrows narrowed, as she shot Keiko a glare. "He told me what it was that you were up to, by the way, having me brew his tea."
Keiko poured herself a fresh cup, adding sugar and a little bit of cream. "Can you blame me? I want to have little grand-nephews before I die." She stirred it, pausing as she thought. "Nieces would be fine too, I suppose. Honestly, anything at this point-"
"Keiko!"
She hid her grin behind her cup as she sipped, but then frowned as Rin sighed wistfully again. That caused her to pause, setting her cup back down. "Rin, what is it? Has something happened between the two of you?" She had already figured as such, because the both of them had spent the last week in a daze. And actively avoiding each other, which Keiko had thought odd.
"Nothing that I didn't expect," the girl said, but she didn't bother to elaborate.
"So, what you're saying is that it's time for me to rip his balls off?"
Keiko had expected a small laugh, but Rin just smiled sadly. "Truly Keiko-san, he's done nothing wrong." And Keiko would have believed her, if not for the quiet and defeated tone of her voice.
"Except break your heart," Keiko she surmised with a disapproving frown. She would kill that boy, if it was the last thing that she did.
"I shouldn't have ever expected anything," Rin said quietly. "I knew from the moment I realized how I felt, that it would never work."
Keiko said nothing at first, watching the tea in her cup swirl slightly. "I had thought the same thing, you know," she finally said, "when I met Hiro. I remember thinking, 'Gods above, my parents will kill me'."
At that, Rin looked to her, her head cocked to the side in interest. It wasn't that it hurt to talk about him. Keiko wanted to tell the girl everything about him, but it made her miss him, and that hurt more than any heartbreak she could have ever beheld.
"But I waited," she continued, turning the cup slowly in her hand, like she would forget what the porcelain would feel like. Hiro had given her this set on an anniversary. "I waited for two centuries, never knowing if we could be together, but I waited. I was there when he sailed away, tears streaming down my face as his boat crested the horizon. I was there when he would sail back in, my heart burning at the thought of just hugging him again.
"And sometimes it would be years. Not weeks or months, but years, before he would come back to me, and still I waited."
She spared a glance to Rin, who looked contemplative. "I don't have years, Keiko-san." Her voice was thin. "I don't have years, so I will take what I can get. If the only way I can see him, is to be the Lady of the South, then I will do that. If the only way that I can walk through the gardens with him is under the guise of political discussion, then I will do that. And if the only way we can share tea, is to keep peace between our lands, then I will do that as well."
And despite Rin's strong words, tears leaked down her face and Keiko cracked. She set aside her cup, reaching for the girl and pulling her into a tight hug. "Oh Little Sparrow," she said into her hair, and then she felt it, the sobs wracking through the girl. How her little bird had grown, since meeting her.
Rin hadn't cried about this, she realized. She had accepted her heartbreak and made a compromise, but she hadn't grieved for the man she loved and had lost. And finally she did, hiccuping quietly as Keiko ran her claws through her hair softly. Tears stained the silk covering her lap, but Keiko didn't care.
"It's not fair, Keiko-san," she cried. "It's not fair and that's why I have to leave. He was right, it would be too hard. I couldn't bear to look at him and not feel. I can't turn it off, and it hurts."
"Then take comfort in knowing that his heart, hurts just as much." And she could tell that Rin was about to protest, so she pressed a finger to her lips. "He chose you, even if it doesn't feel like it. And he's stupid, thinking that this is the right way to do things, that this is how he will protect you, but never forget that- he chose you."
Rin pulled away from her, sniffling as she wiped at her red and splotchy cheeks. "Keiko-san-" she started, but Keiko reached out and brushed her bangs back.
"My place is right here with you," she said to her again. "Because he will not be. I know that I am not him Little Sparrow, but I love you just as much."
Rin nodded and Keiko ruffled her hair, her heart swelling with feeling. So like Izayoi, in so many ways, but so different. This girl wore her heart on her sleeve, and held high for as long as she could. But then when it fell, it crumbled, and it would take her forever to pick the pieces back up.
That was why Keiko would be there, to help her. Her stupid nephew would come around, but it would take time. And until then, Keiko would be her rock, steady within the stream.
Keiko-san had never been to the Southern Palace, and was immediately enamored by the fact that it wasn't extravagant. Instead it was traditional, sporting rice paper walls and delicate tatami mats. It was small even, roughly the size of a manor, unlike the other Lordships' holdings. And Rin already knew that the woman would love the inner gardens.
If they were still there.
She had been nine, when she was sold, but she remembered this place like it was yesterday. Just like she had never forgotten her family. Her father yelling at her inadequacy, like being female was something that she could have changed. Her mother's lips, set into a flat line, watching. Never doing anything, never saying a word.
Even when she fell into the same abuse.
Keiko ran up to the steps, her claws reaching out to touch the walls carefully. "Even the Imperial Palace isn't this traditional," she twittered. "How long it's been since I've slept on a futon!"
Now that Rin thought about it, where had she stayed in the palace? Despite being let out of the dungeons, had she been still shackled to them when she wasn't caring for Rin? The girl felt stupid for never asking, never caring.
Because Keiko-san always cared about her. And then there was the woman in front of her, waving a hand before her face. "Rin-san, are you alright?"
She would never get used to Keiko calling her that, but the woman wouldn't stop, no matter Rin's begging. "I'm fine," she finally said, but Keiko wasn't remotely convinced. She reached out, taking her hands into hers.
"Little Sparrow, what is it?"
"It hasn't changed," Rin finally admitted. "It hasn't changed one bit." And she wished it had, because there were things here that she wanted to forget. Things that she wished she could just wipe from her memory.
Keiko said nothing, only reached out and brushed her bangs from her forehead.
"They are sure that he isn't here?" Rin asked, for what seemed the thousandth time.
"They've looked everywhere for your brother, but they haven't found him."
And part of Rin was happy. That part wanted to think that her brother had no part in this, that Hideki was completely blameless. But she wasn't a fool. She remembered how he had known. He had tried to stop their father, but he had known.
He only stepped in because she had been there, so unexpectedly.
Keiko opened her mouth to say something, but Rin spoke first. "That step over there," she said, pointing to a doorway to the left side. It was a servants' entrance that led into the middle of the home. "Hideki fell off of it once," she said, her tone quiet. "He broke his arm, an honest accident. But my father blamed a servant who happened to just be there, who had nothing to do with anything. And we never saw her again."
The words that Rin had truly wanted to say left hanging between them, and Keiko's mouth snapped shut, unsure what to say. "I wasn't sure that you'd remember much," she finally admitted.
"I could never forget anything about this place," Rin said.
She had told herself that she could do this. She had told herself that she was strong. She wasn't, and she already felt herself falling. And if she fell, she wouldn't get back up.
She wished that Sesshoumaru-sama was there. She would curl her fingers into his haori, grounding herself, and while he wouldn't hold her, he would stand there, letting her hang off of him like a small child.
Keiko watched her carefully, trying to read her expression, and Rin knew that questions would come later. She had talked of her time with the General, of her time with the circus.
She had never spoken of her home, letting people think it was because she didn't remember.
"It's quiet," Keiko-san said to her. "And calm. It's just what you need, while you figure things out."
What she needed was to leave, to get out of there, to go flying back to the palace, and to the Imperial Prince. She paused at that. His Royal Majesty. His coronation hadn't happened yet, but he was unofficially holding the title.
She led Keiko-san inside. It wasn't dusty, as people had been living there up until her father's death. But now it was empty. Her brother and mother had escaped, nowhere to be seen. The servants had likely been let go, the moment they learned of her father's death.
Rin smiled at that. They would be better off, at least.
Keiko admired the beauty of the simple house, breathing in the rice paper, the silk tapestries and the tatami floor. Rin knew that this was the woman's element, that this was the kind of thing that calmed her. And in turn, Keiko-san would ground her. She would be able to endure this.
But then they walked through a narrow hall, and into the inner courtyard. Flowers bloomed everywhere, so delicately trimmed. A little bench, tucked underneath the sakura tree that stood tall in the center. The pond tinkled with the fluttering of the koi within it, and it would paint a scenic picture.
"'Listen to me Little One'," Rin said quietly. Keiko didn't hear her at first, admiring the careful blooms that had once been tended by her mother. "'And listen well, for you should know your place. Women are only worth their weight in gold, and I intend for you to be the best."
The first time her father had said those words to her, had been here, in this garden. It became a daily mantra, but it was here that he had first whispered them to her. Sitting her upon his lap, like he cared, impressing upon her that it was her divine duty.
Keiko paused, turning to look at her. "I'm sorry?"
"My father," Rin said. "This is where he told me that I would be the best. I would learn to dance and sing, and be a pretty little thing, for the entertainment of others. That I was only worth my weight in gold, and they he expected a hefty price."
And Keiko to her credit, looked disturbed. She looked utterly disturbed and bothered by the idea that someone would tell that to their daughter. "Rin-san, I-"
"Lady Rin," someone else said, from the far side of the garden. They both turned to find a woman, withered and gray, her silvery hair tied into a bun. Her clothing was plain, but Keiko eyed the woman's eyepatch warily. She walked with a cane, but she wasn't frail, and Rin instantly recognized her. "Imagine my surprise to find you back here," she said, slowly picking her way towards them. "Imagine my surprise, to hear you crowned the Lady of the South. Your mother would be so proud."
Rin didn't run to her, knowing that the old servant wouldn't stand for it. "Kaede-san."
Keiko watched the two in interest, questions ready to burst from her. "I am the only one left," Kaede-san said regretfully. "The rest left here the moment they found that your father had passed. But here I am, and here I will stay. Tell me, Rin-san, what is it that you want done first? There is much to be prepared."
"There's nothing to prepare for me, Kaede-san. I'm tired, but I can settle myself down." She spared a glance at the bench though and after a moment of thought, she said, "You can remove that bench though. It's quite the eyesore."
If Keiko thought it a strange request, she hid it well. But Kaede-san bowed with a twinkle in her eye. "And so it will be done." Finally, the woman reached out, grabbing onto Rin's silk sleeve. Her fingers caressed the fabric, like she wasn't sure that the girl was there. "Rin-chan," she said affectionately. "Welcome home, if you are willing to call it that."
She pulled back and turned on her heel, leaving them be.
Rin saw Keiko her mouth, so she said, "Kaede-san was the of the housing staff. She's been here since my father was a child, or so she told me." She paused, watching the old woman slowly pick her way over the cobbled path. "I'll admit, I didn't think that she would stay."
"Were you close to her?" Keiko-san asked her, genuinely curious.
Rin hesitated. "She did what she could for us, despite the circumstances." It wasn't so much an answer, as it was a half explanation, but Keiko hummed in response.
"Then of course she would still be here. We live for those we are loyal to, despite the odds."
At her words, Rin turned to her, reaching out and grasping her hand. She squeezed it gently and said, "Thank you Keiko-san, for everything."
Keiko didn't respond, only squeezing her hand back.
"My former Master would be quite beside himself to hear that there was a youkai making tea in his kitchen."
Keiko had heard the old crone before she had ever entered the kitchen, but her blunt words were a welcome change from the somber tone that everyone had seemed to take upon, as of late.
"Truth be told, Rin-san didn't want me to come," she finally said, pouring boiling water over her tea leaves. "As if she could stop me. For such a bright child, she can be quite stupid."
"She was the same when she was young, I assure you."
Keiko started slightly at that, surprised by Kaede-san's words. She paused to look at her and say, "I assume that you speak of her dedication to her father?" Rin had never outright proclaimed love for the man, but she had mentioned several times the lengths that she had gone to make him happy. Perhaps even proud. Keiko had easily read between the lines; despite everything she hated about the man, she was still his daughter, and she still wanted to love and be useful to him.
It hit closer to home, than Keiko would have ever thought.
Kaede-san didn't ask to join her, but sat down at the large table in the kitchen even so. Keiko hid her smile, thinking that this woman was quite a bit like her. Without a word, she grabbed an extra cup and prepared more tea.
When she brought it to her, taking another stool, the old woman wrapped her hands around the cup gingerly, taking in the warmth. "I would say that she was a fool, but we all crave the love of our father."
Keiko-san looked to Kaede, who was stirring her tea gently with a spoon. "It's as though you can see right through me, Kaede-san."
"Ah, well, who doesn't know the story of the wild princess and her dragon?"
Keiko eyed her warily. "I do believe that that story is considered a legend now, Kaede-san."
"Not all women are young pups, Imperial Highness," Kaede-san said with a mischievous wink, and Keiko had to wonder exactly how old the woman was. Or how she had known exactly who she was. Either she was practically ancient, or Rin had told her.
"Keiko-san, please," she insisted. "No one has called me that since my brother passed."
Kaede hummed, though a look of regret passed across her face. "Truly the world misses him. He was the one that saw worth within the Shokugawa clan." Because it had been Touga-san who had asked them to take the southern seat, after he overthrew the panthers that had previously held it. "Tell me Keiko-san, does Lady Rin want to be here?"
She had expected more sentimental chit chat from the crone. It caused her to smile though, because the more that the woman spoke, the more she saw herself within her. "If I were to be honest," Keiko said to her, "No."
"So the Imperial Highness has thrown her out," Kaede-san surmised. "I had heard the rumors that they were friends, but it seems as though that isn't the case."
So it seemed that news of his actions in bringing her back to life, had made it even this far. Keiko sipped from her cup gently. "His Majesty," Keiko impressed, "has done nothing of the sort. He freed her from her obligation as a slave and then offered her legacy back. Rin accepted it immediately."
Kaede hummed at that, carefully regarding Keiko, as though she didn't quite believe her. "Why on earth would he offer such a thing to a slave?"
It wasn't anger at such an idea, Keiko realized, she was testing her. She was testing Keiko's intentions, as well as her nephew's, and she didn't blame her. "They became friendly, during her time there," she finally said. "And they grew quite close."
"Close."
The look that Kaede-san gave her, rivaled one of her very own, causing her to throw her head back and bark out a laugh. The crone wasn't so stupid to think that they were only close. "They are young and foolish," Keiko-san finally said, "but they'll eventually sort it out."
"I can't say that I approve," Kaede-san grumbled, pouring more tea into her cup.
"That may be, but her companionship and quick wit will be needed in the coming days. There is no one else that he can trust within the court, and he will need support. My influence only goes so far."
Kaede-san grunted at that and said, "If he shows up on my doorstep, I will kick him right out."
Keiko laughed once more, the sound bubbling up through her. "And I will help you. The only reason I haven't killed him myself is because Rin-san begged me not to."
At that, the old woman shifted her gaze to her, her eye crinkling in amusement. She would ask her about that eye patch, one of these days. "Keiko-san," she said, lifting her tea in a small toast. "I do believe that you and I will get along just fine."
Keiko toasted her right back, her lips quirking into a grin. Yes, yes they would.
She had expected her childhood room to have been used for storage after she was sold off, but she was surprised to find it just as she had left it. Even more surprised to find it properly kept and cleaned. Kaede-san had replaced the small futon for a larger one, and she had fallen immediately into bed and slept for ten straight hours.
And then almost the entirety of the next day.
The day after that, she didn't leave either, leafing through an old book that she had found on a shelf nearby. Her legs itched to leave, to move around, but she didn't want to. The last thing that she wanted to do, was to roam around this place that was full of too many memories. She had made a mistake coming here, but it was too late. It wasn't as if she could just go back to the palace, and forget about everything.
So she tried to distract herself, tried to distract her mind from everything that was welling up inside of her.
Keiko-san had noticed. She had let her keep her space until she couldn't stand it anymore, barging into her room and demanding that she grow a backbone. And for once, Rin had one, lashing out harshly.
"Keiko-san, in case you have forgotten, you cannot order me around anymore!" She instantly regretted the words the moment they snapped from her lips, watching as the woman immediately snapped her mouth shut in a pinched expression. Her claws had curled into tight fists, but she didn't argue back or even yell. Instead she turned on her heel, sliding the door shut with a slam, anger radiating off of her in almost visible fumes.
And then Rin was crying, huddled into the corner of her futon, her legs pulled to her chest. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she sobbed, and she felt guilty. Keiko didn't deserve such treatment, she didn't know.
She didn't know anything, because she hadn't told her.
She would, Rin resolved. She would, because Keiko was her best friend, and she didn't go through hell to be treated as anything but such.
Keiko didn't hold grudges, but she could hold onto anger.
And so when Rin asked her to share tea with her in the Garden, she refused immediately. Kaede-san's lips turned into a frown. "She's acting like a child," Keiko had explained to her, "losing her anger over something so insignificant."
"Being here isn't insignificant," Kaede had reprimanded. "You are the one acting like a child, and you have no excuse. She has many."
Keiko had snorted her disapproval at that, but sighed. The crone's words had the tiniest bit of merit, and perhaps she had been too harsh on the girl. But Rin had holed herself into her room, refusing to do anything other than sulk.
It wasn't that she didn't want to give Rin time, but they did have work to do. Rin had things that she needed to learn and understand, before she ever brought her back to court.
Kaede came to her a second time, saying that Rin insisted, and that she wouldn't take no for an answer. Keiko's mood was sour, but despite her anger at the girl… she also missed her. She gave in, leading to Kaede-san bringing her to the courtyard that she had seen her first day there.
And true to Keade-san's promise, the offending bench that Rin had asked to be removed was gone.
In its stead, there was Rin, settled on a quilt that had been spread out along the ground. She wore a nice kimono that day, one that wasn't familiar to her. It was informal, but the silk was dyed a deep green and embroidered with flowers. An orange obi was tied around her waist.
Keiko fell to the ground silently. The tea set that sat between them was a mismatched cast iron pot and ceramic tea cups, but Rin paid that no mind as she prepared a serving for her.
"This was my mother's garden," Rin said to her finally, handing the cup over. Keiko sniffed at it, taking in the cinnamon blend. Unusual, considering what Rin typically liked to drink.
"They haven't found her," Keiko told her, "Or your brother, though they've been looking." There hadn't been so much a sniff of them, since their disappearance at the palace.
And then Rin made a strange face. "Lady Emiko isn't my mother," she finally said, her voice so quiet, Keiko barely heard it. The girl must have seen her incredulous expression, because she continued with, "I suppose that I should start at the beginning Keiko-san, but first- I apologize. I should never have snapped at you, but there are things that you don't know, that I should have told you. I thought that coming back here would be easy, but it seems as though it isn't the case. I should have explained everything to you from the very beginning. I owe you that much."
"Explain what."
The look that Rin gave her was positively heartbreaking, and Keiko knew that this story wouldn't be full of rainbows. It wasn't her life of servitude and slavery that had broken this child, she realized, it was whatever she had endured here.
"My mother's name was Hana, and she was my father's first wife. I've already told you that he was displeased by women, and my birth made him particularly unhappy. He impressed upon my mother the importance of bearing him a son, but he married for a second time just in case, perhaps thinking that it would be twice the chance for a male heir. Lady Emiko is my step-mother.
"I didn't quite understand when I was a child- I understood a lot, but I didn't grasp that my father didn't want a woman inheriting his lands." Here she paused, looking at Keiko pointedly. "Sesshoumaru-sama explained such laws to me, and now it makes sense, why he was so obsessed with it. He didn't want the Shokugawa legacy falling on the shoulders of an inferior woman."
And then Rin sighed, sipping at her tea. "I was six when my mother found herself with child again, and she gave birth to another daughter. My father was angry, and he killed them."
Keiko's heart stopped at her words. Killed them, said said plainly, like it had been expected. Rin's gaze shifted to the cobblestone courtyard just beyond them. "The entire household watched," Rin continued, her voice quiet, like she was lost in the memory, "as he dragged her out here and threw her to the ground. She wasn't strong enough to hold him off, and no one stopped him. He held her head under the water in the pond, and she struggled against him until she couldn't anymore."
Drowned, her father had drowned her mother. "And my little sister, I only saw her once, when he shook her so hard with rage, that she stopped moving. I was an investment. He had thrown time and money into what I might bring him in return, but he wouldn't abide by dealing with another daughter."
You can remove that bench though. It's quite the eyesore. The bench where her father had told her that her only worth, was the money she could be sold for.
This entire home was an eyesore to Rin, and Keiko should never have brought her here, never should have talked her into leaving the palace for some time to think. "There are laws against that," Keiko hissed. "There are-"
"And what would we have done?" Rin asked, finally looking to her. She wasn't crying, but her eyes were rimmed with red. She had already cried to the point where no more tears would come. "Turned him in? He was our Lord and Master. He was my father."
He ignores them, Keiko-san, her brother had asked of their father once. He leaves them to die, these poor humans. How can we allow that?
He is our father, Touga, what would you have us do?
She had been foolish as an adult, but Rin had been a child, unable to understand a damned thing.
"My Step-Mother gave birth to Hideki several months later, and it saved her life. And despite the fact that I wasn't her daughter, she took me under her wing and treated me like one. She cannot replace mine, but she is as much a mother to me, as you are, Keiko-san."
"Rin," Keiko started, but found that words couldn't come to her. There was nothing that she could say, nothing that could make this better. Keiko couldn't turn back time and undo it all.
"It seems weird, to look back on my slavery with fondness," Rin said, "but now you understand why. There was no love for me here; only obedience and expectation, and if neither of those things were met, my life could have easily been snuffed out. The General wasn't kind, but he never threatened death. The circus wasn't easy, but I was surrounded by those I loved." Rin stopped, looking to Keiko. "The palace was dangerous, but I met you and Sesshoumaru-sama, and for the first time, I feel as though I have a family."
"Rin," Keiko said, dropping the honorific, "did you even want freedom?"
And the girl's lip wobbled slightly, her hands shaking at the thought. "I don't know," she said quietly. "I've been owned for so long, even before my father sold me. I threw myself into learning to sing and dance, because I wanted to prove to my father that his daughter was worth it. That I was a good investment. What do I do with myself now that I have nothing to prove?"
Keiko reached out to her, yanking her to her chest. "Oh, child," she murmured into her ear, "You don't need to prove anything. He's gone."
"I was glad," Rin sobbed against her. "I was glad, when Sesshoumaru-sama told me that he had killed him, because it meant that he couldn't do it to anyone else. I wished for him dead and now he is, and I can only be happy. What kind of person does that make me?"
"There is no shame in such a thing," Keiko soothed.
"And my brother- I had hoped that he wouldn't fall down the same trap, but he knew. He had known what Father had planned and he tried to stop it, but he knew. They had planned to assassinate Sesshoumaru-sama." Keiko held onto her tightly, running her claws through her hair.
"Which is why he ran," she said against Rin. "It's why he's disappeared."
"I cannot do this," Rin said defeated. "I cannot be a Lady, I cannot rule the south. I cannot be here, with these feelings and memories bubbling up, pulling at my heart. I cannot look at Sesshoumaru-sama and forget, because every little thing that I see, reminds me of him. I wish to go back to the circus, where all I had to do was dance and be pretty, and entertain those for coin."
Keiko pulled back. "Nonsense," she said harshly, gripping her shoulders tightly. "If you cannot do this, then how will Sesshoumaru-sama? He's thrown himself into a den of wolves, because of his love for you, how will he fare if the one person he trusts leaves?"
Rin hiccuped, her lip wobbling slightly. "He's got you though, Keiko-san. He's got you and your wisdom. You know more about what he needs than I ever could."
At that, Keiko sighed, running her claws through her hair gently. Rin closed her eyes at the feel of it, sighing deeply. "Oh, you silly child," she chided softly. "In his stupidity he's sent you away, and I could kill the boy, but you are forgetting the most important thing- He chose you, you silly girl. He doesn't want me."
"He doesn't want me either."
"A likely story," Keiko huffed. She pulled her hands away and folded them into her lap. "I cannot make it better Rin," she sighed, looking at the courtyard around them. The place was spotless, perfectly kept, unmarred by its violent history. "I cannot undo what was done in this place. And maybe if I had known, I wouldn't have brought you here. Or- and hear me out," she said, seeing Rin start a motion to interrupt. "Maybe it's a good thing that you've come here."
She reached out, pressing her hands against Rin's cheeks, holding them softly. "Rin, you aren't a slave anymore, you are the Lady of the South. This is your domain now. This place doesn't need to be filled with the sorrow and unhappiness of the past. You can fill it with your warmth, and you can make it mean something again."
"Keiko-san," Rin started, but Keiko wouldn't let her finish.
"You are so bright, Rin-san," she said fondly. "You light up the room with your smile, and you ease my heart. And you ease his. He will need you, do you understand? Sesshoumaru-sama is a lot of things, but invincible isn't one of them. There will come a time when he feels defeated and like he doesn't know what to do. Imagine the kind of balm that your counsel would be."
Rin listened to what she said carefully, and then, with her hands folded in her lap primly, she said, "I love him."
At that, Keiko laughed. "I know this, Little Sparrow."
"And he loves me."
"The dramatic irony of it all isn't missed."
"I have a lot to learn."
"What was it that you said earlier? That I was the one who knew these things? The entire reason that I came with you, was to teach you."
Rin then looked at her, eyes still rimmed red with sorrow, but this time filled with determination. "Then where is it that we start?"
Oh, this child, this Little Sparrow. A girl had clawed her way through unimaginable beginnings. Who had endured abuse and the threat of murder, slavery and the physical demands of being a performer.
Who had whip marks on her back, because even as a child, she knew that she was worth more than her weight in gold.
This was a girl who would learn eagerly, not to please, but to help. She wanted to help Sesshoumaru-sama in every way that she could. And it wasn't because of some girl-child ideology that she owed him, it was because she respected him and he respected her.
Rin was the girl who could turn the court upside down, and inside and out. And when she met her eyes, she saw the fiery depths of that personal drive.
And it made Keiko smile.
The next day, Rin pulled herself from her futon, feeling like a new person.
It wasn't so much that she had shrugged off her memories, but rather that they remained where they were- in the past. There was still so much that needed to be done to make this a welcome home again, but she didn't feel bound by those heavy feelings anymore.
All Keiko-san's talk about how Rin was a balm along her heart, and the woman didn't even realize how much she had healed her instead. It was so very like the old dog, never taking credit for nothing.
To her surprise, it wasn't Kaede-san who appeared that morning to dress her, knocking softly against the wood frame. The old crone would have just burst in and ripped the comforter right off of her. Instead, it was Keiko who slid the door open and stuck her head through.
And they both were quiet, as Rin pulled an old kimono from her closet. Keiko-san moved to pull the lid off of the box, pressing her hand gently over the delicate silk.
"Rin-san, I must ask," she started, ignoring the nasty look that Rin gave her. She would not abide by such formality, the girl decided. "Where did these kimono come from?"
Rin went to her side, reaching out to the silk. This garment was a gentle sea blue, dyed a darker ombre at the bottom. Seagulls and ocean waves were embroidered along the edges, supplemented with a simple square pattern.
"They were my mother's." Her real mother's, not Emiko-san. She hadn't thought her father to be the sentimental type, so she figured that Kaede-san was the one who had saved them. "Kaede-san put them in here," she finally said. "Since they are likely the only clothing within the household that would fit me."
They had brought the few things that she properly owned, but it was nice to have a new wardrobe to pick from. And she didn't feel odd wearing these garments- it felt right, like they had been made for her.
Keiko went about pulling it from the box, dusting it off and preparing Rin to wear it. It was another informal kimono, and the woman paired it with a light-blue obi, the color of the foam that crested with the waves of their sea.
"I suppose this a good moment for your very first lesson," Keiko said, slipping the belt around her waist. She pulled it tightly to knot, but not so tight that Rin couldn't breathe. "A woman in court isn't worth much more than her clothing."
Rin frowned at that. "Keiko-san, what does that even mean?"
"It means that women will only be looked at, not listened to. If it's something that I've learned in my long years serving the Empire, it's that even when you are in a position of power, men only treat you like a pretty little doll at court. I sat at my father's table, but my advice and counsel was never heeded. Thankfully, you have more of an advantage, than I did."
"And that would be?"
"That Sesshoumaru-sama will claw the eyes out of any man that dares look at you." Keiko patted her obi lightly, signaling that she was done.
"Such a loyal guard dog," Rin said lightheartedly.
And as Keiko moved adjust her collar, she laughed heartily. "Loyal indeed."
Rin was everywhere.
Well, not really, since Keiko-san had whisked her away to the Southern Palace, without even letting him say goodbye. At first, he had thought that had been for the better; Rin was so receptive to the feelings that they shared, that it was actually hard to pull away. He wasn't sure what might have happened if he had seen her off. He likely wouldn't have let her go, despite all of his determination to hold her an arm's length away.
Instantly, he thought of her picking up the pieces of her teacup, trying to put on a brave face. He had stepped in to do it instead, the least he could do. All of this was his fault.
But as the days ticked away, he saw her everywhere. The bench where they often shared tea. His father's garden, where they had shared quiet words. Even the courtyard arena, where he had teased her, only to have her taunt him back. It had sent his blood boiling, but not in anger.
He frowned at the cup he held lightly in his hand. Rin had never brewed the best tea, but he had come to find it preferable to the pristine brew that he had before him.
"Your Majesty, I must say, that sigh is not within your character." Sesshoumaru turned to his left to find Taro-san standing there, his lips quirked into a teasing smirk.
Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes at the man. There was no grudge against him- he had long respected the man, and his attack on Rin had been paid for in full- but he wouldn't stand for his teasing either.
"I'll remind you that you cannot speak to me with such informality," he said dryly. It was well natured, and Taro-san knew this, only rolling his eyes in response, before dropping to the bench beside him. "What do you want?" Sesshoumaru snapped. His tea time was his alone time, and he preferred to spend it that exact way- alone.
"I bring you a letter, from the most important woman in your life," Taro-san said, reaching into his haori, pulling out a folded piece of parchment.
At that, Sesshoumaru's gaze immediately snapped to him. "Rin wrote to me?"
Taro-san smirked again, and he didn't like the look on his face. "For a man who's trying so hard to act like he doesn't care, you're failing miserably," he said. He tossed him the parchment and stood, stretching his back, and then left him with a little wave of his hand.
The moment that Taro-san was out of his sight, Sesshoumaru unfolded the parchment-
Only to find curled penmanship that he would have recognized anywhere. "Keiko-san," he muttered in aggravation. Taro-san had played him like a fool, and he had fallen straight into the trap. He ran his fingers over the carefully picked words.
You are the stupidest man that I know.
Keiko
Leave it to his aunt to keep in short and sweet.
Even so, he smiled, because she was right.
A/N: With this chapter, our story takes a bit of a darker turn, and perhaps some of you will have figured out by now, who the real villain is. Everything that I've built up between the two of them has been thrown aside- and I promise, there's a reason. So now, we head into the next arc of Songbird, and it'll be a wild ride, I promise.
