Chapter 14: Confrontation in the Meadow

The early morning air was crisp, cool, and just a tad damp from the night's rain shower. Tora had always enjoyed the quiet pre-dawn hours when the world hung so peacefully between night and day, and not even the chatter of birds disturbed the silence. She felt strangely alive, and she reasoned that it was because the cool air carried sounds and smells much farther, even without a breeze, than during the heat of the day.

Though the forest would appear deathly still to a normal human, her sensitive ears caught the tinkling of a far-off brook, the whispers of the diayōkai's garments as he walked ahead of her, and the rustle of a branch falling from an old tree. All around her, the rich, wild scents of the ancient forest intermingled with one another, crisp and delicious. She could pick out the comforting scent of moist loam beneath her feet, the fresh, green smell of tree resin, and the faint hint of decay beneath the redolent of rebirth.

Strolling leisurely through the forest at this time was usually an extremely enjoyable and spiritually soothing experience. This morning, however, Tora felt restless and her body was tense. She gazed cautiously at the surrounding forest, straining her senses for any reason for her unease and remaining alert for signs of danger. Something, something that she could not hear, taste, or smell, was thick in the air. So thick that it made her skin crawl.

The daiyōkai had woken her shortly after midnight with a nudge of his boot and, in his imperturbable manner had ordered: "Rise and come." Without even a moment's hesitation, she had grabbed her sheathed katana, rose quietly so not to disturb Rin, and followed his receding silhouette into the forest. In a heavy silence, they had traveled until even Tora would have lost her bearings had she not caught a glimpse of the starry sky between the branches of the beech trees and the slowly dissipating clouds and quickly calculated that they were heading west.

With every step she took, the more the discomfort grew until even the pleasurable sights, sounds, and aromas of her favorite time of day could not ease her nervousness. The forest seemed too close, stifling and oppressive. She took a deep breath, calming herself and pushing the anxious thoughts as far back into her mind as she was able.

Then they left the thinning trees and moved into a meadow. Suddenly Tora felt vulnerable, and a lazy breeze, rippling through the long grasses, caused a shiver to run down her spine. They were too exposed, and she almost wished for the protect cover of the forest that she had long to escape from mere moments ago. Her eyes scanned the receding edge of the forest but saw nothing in the slowly brightening light. Dawn was nearing, but instead of feeling relief, Tora found herself dreading the sunrise.

When the daiyōkai stopped in the middle of the meadow, Tora obediently halted a little behind and beside him. It was only then that she realized her hand had been gripping the hilt of her katana tight enough to cause her knuckles to pale. She loosed her grip but did not remove her hand. Something was not right, yet a quick glance told her that Lord Sesshomaru appeared undisturbed by the ominous atmosphere. He was waiting, his gold eyes staring directly ahead at the wide expanse of the meadow.

Then, as the first rays of sunlight began to peek over the horizon at their backs, Tora felt a ripple in the air. It rushed over her, causing the small hairs on the back of her arms and neck to rise and tingle. She immediately sensed a third presence in the meadow, that of a yōkai, but its yōki was not as strong as she would have guessed despite the malice it emanated.

Sesshomaru did not even blink as his own powerful essence pushed it aside like one swats an annoying insect. Then a sound reached Tora's ears. It began soft, no more than a whisper that grew louder until the mocking laughter seemed to echo in her mind. Her own eyes narrowed as she scanned the meadow, focusing all of her senses to pinpoint the origin of the irritating laughter.

It came from in front of them.

And a figure seemed to materialize out of the air.

Tora was too on edge to even be shocked at the newcomer's appearance. The yōkai was a tall, slender woman with long, pale hair falling free from its loose binds to brush against a beautiful, sharp-featured face and dark, laughing eyes. Her bright lips were curled back in an amused smile, only partially hidden beneath the ornate fan she held in one hand. Her kimono was bright with a very intricate design that at first Tora could not even distinguish and then she realized it was of some sort of animal surrounded by colorful clouds. It hung loosely around the yōkai, exposing much more of her neck and shoulders than what would be considered decent.

During the twenty seconds it took Tora to take in the strange yōkai, the mocking laughter did not cease. The muscles in the lady samurai's neck and shoulders tightened slightly.

And then the yōkai spoke.

"My, my, my. It seems that you have followed in your father's footsteps, dear little prince."

The scornful words cut through the thick air directed at the daiyōkai, and though Tora did not understand what significance they held, she felt a prickle of anger rise inside of her at the condescending tone in the strange yōkai's voice. How dare she speak in such a way to Sesshomaru?

"I never imagined that you would take to humans," the yōkai continued.

Her dark eyes turned to Tora and for a brief moment, the young woman could almost feel that cold gaze on her skin. She forcibly prevented herself from shuddering and narrowed her eyes to return the gaze with one of her own.

"Oh, and she is such a homely creature with no attractive features whatsoever. Hm. You have very peculiar tastes, little prince." She flicked her fan closed, her attention shifting back to the daiyōkai.

"Humph," the daiyōkai finally responded. His facial expression, despite the yōkai's taunting, was one of mild amusement. "Peculiar tastes? You dare to speak to me of peculiar tastes when your weakness is so great that you flit from one filthy human to another. I, Sesshomaru, have no such weakness."

"What can I say, little one?" she retorted with a smile. "Humans are more exciting. Like the thrill of death when in the throes of a bloody battle, there is something... enticing ...about enjoying the forbidden pleasures of a being that dies so quickly. Certainly you have discovered this with your own little pet. No matter how hideous she is, she must be pleasing for you to keep her."

Beneath her composed mask, Tora felt her blood burning. Not from embarrassment – such pathetic taunts did not ruffle her, as she had heard them all many times before. No, she was angry at the yōkai's casual mention of humans to just satisfy her own, sordid pleasures. But it was more than just her casual comments that angered her. What drew her fury the most was how such a creature spoke to Sesshomaru, like one speaks to an ignorant child, when it was clear that she was no match for him. The ways of the samurai were so engrained into her that she could not bare to see such disrespect show to... to... to... a lord.

She could barely even control her rush of thoughts. It had been years since she unwillingly took up the path of the ronin, a lordless samurai, and, without fully realizing it, she had transferred her loyalties to the daiyōkai. A samurai is not complete unless he is serving a worthy master. The daiyōkai may never have asked for her services, but he also had never sent her away. In her mind, right then and there, she made a decision.

Without a second thought, Tora's hand tightened on the hilt of her katana.

"Oh, I think I upset your pet," the yōkai commented with a burst of that irritating laughter. "And she has a sword. How quaint! Do you even know how to use such a weapon, little girl?"

"I am a lady samurai, trained by my father," Tora growled as she stepped forward. Her blood seemed to be ablaze inside her veins. "Your insolence to Lord Sesshomaru cannot be forgiven."

She drew her katana from its sheath in one swift, fluid motion and took a defensive stance. Glaring at the yōkai from across the silver of her blade, she added in a low voice: "My name is Tora, daughter of the samurai Asakura Sorin."

The amused smirk on the yōkai's face faltered and then completely vanished. Her dark eyes took in the lady samurai, poised protectively in front of the tall, indifferent form of the daiyōkai. Though his eyes were narrowed, she could plainly see the side of his mouth curl into a small smile. As if he found the scene playing out before him entertaining.

"You never were skilled in detecting the nuances of scents," Sesshomaru murmured casually. "Any competent yōkai would have recognized that Tora is not a mere human. Predictably, you were too caught up in your little game to even use that nose of yours. And you call yourself an Inugami."

Her face darkened in rage and her lips pulled back slightly.

"One would have thought," he continued, "that even distracted, a mother would recognize the scent of her own pup. But then, perhaps you did not because you fled so soon after she was born. You always were a coward, Kasumi. Couldn't bear to rear a half-breed?"

Tora's entire body went cold. For barely a heart-beat the world seemed to freeze, and she thought she was going mad, that she did not hear the words correctly. Then the moment passed, her heart beat again in her chest, and there was a rush of blood humming in her ears. No, she had heard correctly. Her jaw clenched and her hands tighten on the hilt of her weapon.

The pale-haired yōkai standing before her was none other than her mother.