A/N: ho hum. Dee dumb. Work, work, work. I'll be honest with you all…my plan was to have Rin stay out and about away from Sesshomaru until her baby is born. I wanted this because I have this image of a messenger delivering Shimofuri the news and then Shimofuri actually telling Sesshomaru of this daughter that he's never seen because Rin denied him that, as a last, bitter blow. In writing it I realize how hard that will be because Rin has some months to go since this is spring and she probably isn't due till like September or something. Sesshomaru is unlikely to sit by that long. So…write in if you wish and advise me, I likely need it because as with most stuff I write, this story had no real planned ending…and still doesn't. As I am on vacation, though, I've hardly been able to write anything, so it will be a bit before you see the next chapter. I had this one waiting in the wings.

Disclaimer: Nope…

Last Chapter: Rin is struggling to find a place, if possible, inside IY and Kagome's home. So far it seems unlikely. Kohimu, Tisoki, and Kasai arrived upset and with news that Sango suffered a miscarriage in her latest pregnancy. Daken has made headway in the search that Sesshomaru charged him with. He found a kitsune that revealed the poisoning and a monkey youkai cook that did the poisoning. Now all that's left is whoever was paying them. Sesshomaru settled in a different castle, the Insen, unable to stay at Nejiro where he and Rin became lovers and where she suffered so many miscarriages. The rumor spreading on the wind is of a twisted love story: Shimofuri stole Rin away and now Sesshomaru is on the warpath to reclaim his lost lover.

Fumou

Rin escaped her confinement, at last, quite by mistake. She had taken another bath in Kagome's strange bathroom and emerged to hear the home unusually quiet. Dimly, Rin could hear Kagome's voice murmuring from the sitting room. She walked cautiously out into that room and stopped, seeing that Kagome had settled all of the children around the table where they normally ate their meals. They weren't eating now, they were learning.

Once more Kagome startled Rin—she had never expected Inuyasha's wife to be knowledgeable, but the proof of it was right in front of her. Kagome had drawn several kanji characters out on the table for the children. The paper that she used was bright white and appeared clearer than any of the rice paper Rin had used in her own studies. Kagome moved between the children, studying their progress as they learned the intricate ways of curling the brush to form one leg of the character, and then the harsh, deep dab to begin it and the lessening toward the end…it was calligraphy in a way that Rin had never imagined Kagome had been taught.

Cautiously, Rin moved closer, sitting in the background, watching the scene. Kagome could see her where she sat, but she made no attempt to shoo her away, merely headed on with her quiet, patient voice, instructing the children.

The older children, Kohimu and Tisoki, sat at one end. They studied several small kanji that Kagome had drawn for them. The brushes they handled with a grace borne of several years of practice already. Tisoki lifted his eyes and caught sight of her. He smiled at her timidly, and Rin returned it, seeing the remnants of grief hiding in his eyes. She watched him, feeling a lump of pain building inside her throat, a growing sympathy for the three children of the monk and the demon slayer. She understood all too-well the pain that the family was feeling, losing one of their own in blood before it had even begun to live.

Rin laid her hands over her daughter, praying that this one would survive to birth and beyond, that one day Rin might act as Kagome was now, passing on power to her child in the form of knowledge.

Kasai, Koinu, and even young Akisame were included in this lesson. Their kanji characters were larger and fewer in number. Akisame mimicked the image on the paper, but her strokes turned from readable characters to actual pictures. Soon a childish black inked outline of Koinu emerged, then one of her mother and of Inuyasha as well. When she started to dab her fingers in the ink, and then to bring the brush to her mouth to chew it, Kagome stepped in and pulled the toddler away from the sitting table.

With Akisame cuddled in one arm, Kagome ended the children's calligraphy lesson and started a new one that piqued Rin's interest immediately. Kagome took away the blank white sheets and instead placed a thinner, flimsier paper before the children. Unlike the paper from moments ago, this was lined with faint blue ink horizontally across each page. Kohimu and Tisoki began to complain.

"Aunt Kagome!" this was Kohimu, jaw clenched and his lower lip thrust outward, pouting. "Why are you teaching this again?"

"You said we're never going to use it." Tisoki added, whiningly.

"You don't have to learn it if you don't want to." Kagome sighed, tiredly. "But if you leave you have to watch Akisame for me."

Kohimu sighed, putting his elbows on the table and leaning forward exasperatedly. He was acting difficult, fighting and squabbling, but when he stared ahead with what appeared to be anger, Rin could read grief in his features. His brown eyes shone a little too much, a little too wetly. He was near to tears.

Wordlessly, Kagome began to hand out little rods that ended in a point. The children took them up in their hands like chopsticks. Kohimu, Tisoki, and Kasai did this awkwardly, frowning with concentration. Koinu, meanwhile, took up the little rod with great dexterity and confidence. He had been learning this longer than Kohimu, Tisoki, and Kasai. Even Akisame squirmed, trying to get back to the table. Kagome allowed this, even providing the little girl with a little yellow rod of her own.

Rin squinted as Kagome laid another of these blue lined pages down in the middle of the table. This one had symbols on it that weren't kanji. They meant nothing to Rin, they were completely foreign. She leaned forward, watching carefully, trying to comprehend what lesson Kagome was giving the children.

As the children began to copy down the symbols, row by row, with exquisite care, Kagome moved silently over to Rin and sat at her side. Rin tensed and continued to stare straight ahead at the children. She feared what Kagome would say to her. If Kagome asked her to leave then she wasn't sure at all how she could continue to stay against both Inuyasha and Kagome's wishes.

Somehow she found the courage to speak. "Where is Inuyasha?"

"He left to escort our friends here." Kagome answered, quietly.

"The children's parents?" Rin asked, uncertainly.

Kagome nodded. "Yes."

"And Tsukiyume and Shippo?"

"I sent them to the village for me." she paused, smiling slightly. "Shippo already learned a lot of this years ago. I used to teach him about it when we had nothing else to do and we were looking for Jewel Shards or Naraku."

Rin nodded, slowly finding that she could overcome her fears and look at Kagome directly. "I…" she stopped, stumbling nervously, afraid of offending this woman that had been so kind to her, in spite of her husband's none-too-subtle doubts. "I didn't know you knew so much…" she felt her cheeks burning with color and turned her face away, focusing on the children again.

Kagome chuckled a little. "In my era everyone learns this. I want Koinu and Akisame to know it too. Inuyasha might be a lost cause, but my babies aren't."

"He won't learn?" Rin asked, smiling haphazardly.

"He figures he knows enough." Kagome sighed, smiling fondly. "Reading and writing never helped him survive. He can do it, but he doesn't want me to teach him any more."

"When his son can read more than he can, he might sing a different song." Rin replied, smiling with real amusement at last.

Kagome nodded, her eyes brightening. "That's what I thought too."

Koinu lifted his head then, ears swiveling. "Momma," he called her informally, "We're done with the letters."

Kagome nodded and started to rise, but Rin followed her with her eyes attentively, and opened her mouth, blurting, "Lady Kagome…"

The young mother stopped and glanced over her shoulder at Rin on the floor quizzically. "Yes?"

"Will you teach me about that—" she gestured at the strange horizontal lines and the letters inside them on the table. "I've never seen it before and…I could help teach the kanji, or poetry, or…"

Kagome nodded, her expression brightening. "Of course. The boys might learn better from you anyway." Her voice dropped, though it was unlikely that the children missed her words anyway, "I'm sure they already have a crush on you anyway, being Miroku's sons."

"I can't hold this!" Kasai burst out abruptly, and dropped the little yellow rod from her right hand, then she started to cry in little sobs.

Kagome moved swiftly away from Rin and back to the table to comfort the little girl. Koinu had dropped his writing tool as well, but not from frustration. As part inuyoukai he had developed differently from Kasai and, although several months younger than her, he had the dexterity of a much older child. His fine motor skills made for exceptional handling of the brushes and pencils that Kagome provided and encouraged him with. He was better even than Inuyasha, who, in spite of his seemingly brutish nature, was surprisingly gifted with a brush in his hand.

Underlying Koinu and Kasai's lessons there was a rivalry, a mostly silent war brought on by their closeness in age. They were both striving to outshine the other in whatever they did. In the writing lessons Koinu had a natural advantage. Now Koinu hugged Kasai childishly from behind, snuggling into her dark hair. "It's okay, Kasai."

Angrily, Kasai pushed at him. "Get off!"

Kagome separated them with great frustration and then was pulled from the fighting by a squalling Akisame. Rin moved in nervously while Kagome was settling her daughter. She sat at one corner of the table awkwardly. When she looked up timidly, it was to see all of the children's eyes one her, each displaying their own reaction. Kohimu and Tisoki gazed at her with their warm, earthy brown eyes, wide and fascinated. Kasai was still wiping away her tears angrily, and her violet gaze was bitter and skittish. Koinu stared at her with his own blue eyes, cocking his head to one side with curiosity. His ears were turned toward her alertly.

"Momma says you're like my aunt." Koinu told her keenly. His gaze was bright and intelligent, like his mother's. Also, unlike his father, he possessed an open, warm expression. He hadn't been jaded like Inuyasha had, he'd never been taunted or teased or abused for his ancestry.

Rin wasn't sure what to say. Feeling the weight of this "nephew's" gaze, and that of the rest of the children, Rin slowly nodded.

Koinu squirmed a little, revealing his excitement at her admission. "So you know Daddy's brother?"

"Asshole uncle." Tisoki added, grinning widely. "Koinu's asshole uncle."

Rin found herself torn. Her face burned, a hollow feeling started in her stomach. Part of her, the part that still loved Sesshomaru, wanted to scold Tisoki, but she hardly knew the boy, and hardly felt that she could defend Sesshomaru without opening herself up to the feelings of pain and loss that were buried inside her, always waiting to erupt onto the surface if she let them. At the same time she felt she couldn't nod and agree with the boy's words. It was an insult to her, and to Koinu. She saw the little boy turn and glare disapprovingly at Tisoki, saw his tiny ears flatten.

"What?" Tisoki demanded indignantly. "That's what Uncle Inuyasha calls him!"

Kohimu nodded, backing his younger brother up. "He's right. Koinu, your dad thinks your uncle is an asshole."

Kagome interrupted them, scolding harshly. "Stop saying that! You know it's a naughty word—you know Akisame is too young!" angrily, Kagome pointed at the horizontal symbols on the lined paper in front of them all on the table. "Tisoki, Kohimu, recite your alphabet now!"

They groaned and began it slowly, concentrating. "A, b, c, d…"

Rin forgot her embarrassment, fascinated by the strange symbols, by the sounds of language they represented. Wordlessly, as she saw Rin's fascination, Kagome slipped a lined piece of paper in front of her and passed one of the small yellow rods to her. Rin smiled and murmured her thanks, but as she looked from the symbols, to the children reciting the strange "alphabet" to the paper and strange writing tool in her hands, she realized that this new thing would be just as bizarre and different to her as housework, as the "toilet" and shower curtain in Kagome's bathroom. It was another thing to file underneath the list of "from Kagome's era" wherever that was.

When Inuyasha returned a day later with a morose, somber Miroku and Sango in tow, he discovered that Rin had replaced Kagome as a teacher. She taught the children their Japanese kanji, and what she knew of the Chinese characters as well. She cared for the children, which allowed Kagome to busy herself elsewhere or to rest for an hour or so before she began their English lessons. The English lessons boasted new students now too: Rin had taken up the language to pass more of her time, and Tsukiyume and Shippo had followed her.

Messengers moved between Sasugainu and Shimofuri. A meeting was arranged on neutral ground, in Arasoizuki's now leaderless province. The inuyoukai arrived in smaller dog form, one young, strong, and blue-gray, the other the palest white. They were clearly kin; the streaks over their cheeks were the same rich blue-green turquoise. It had been the same color that Taikokajin had sported while she lived.

The day was overcast, the sky an ugly gray. Mists rolled over the hills and through the woodlands around them. The pine trees swayed although there was no wind close to the ground. This was weather that favored Sasugainu's coloring. In his true form he could slip away into the whiteness of the mists, fading like an incorporeal ghost.

Both had worn their swords to the meeting, and both were stoic, though their postures revealed great anger.

Shimofuri started first, saying coldly, "You betrayed me." after a microsecond of a pause, he added, "Uncle."

Sasugainu stiffened up even more so, though it hardly seemed possible. His nose was thrust almost haughtily into the chilly spring air. "You took leave of your senses, Nephew."

"It has not failed yet." Shimofuri returned brusquely. "It might well succeed. I have Lady Rin, and Sesshomaru has left the Middle Lands."

"She is as crazy as you are." Sasugainu spat, heatedly.

"Those words," Shimofuri murmured calmly, "Coming from you, means nothing. Uncle, you have let Sesshomaru cow you with fear. You have been broken. You dishonor me."

"Madness! You dishonor me!" Sasugainu snarled, and then, abruptly, the anger left him, his shoulders sagged. Even the lines in his face softened. For a time he was silent, gazing at his nephew almost as if he had lost his mind, as if Shimofuri had become a child that needed the guidance of a parent. At last he shook his head, speaking so quietly that Shimofuri leaned forward, straining to hear it above the whispering, sighing of the trees. "I don't want you to die, Nephew."

Shimofuri took a step back, frowning briefly. "Your actions do not indicate such."

"If you return his bitch, Sesshomaru is certain to pardon you. If you continue on this path, the only resolution is war and death." He pursed his lips. "After Nishiyori, after the panther demon invasion, I have seen enough of that in my lifetime."

"I doubt returning Lady Rin will change his views toward me." Shimofuri muttered grimly. "He will most certainly punish me, if not kill me. He could depose me, take the Nanka from me. Or…" he frowned bitterly, "Tsukiyume again, forever this time." He shook his head and his hands clenched into firm fists, his resolve hardening. "No, I have no choice but to go on, Uncle. You can either assist me or betray me, it is your choice."

Sasugainu scowled, stepping forward and lifting his hands in a pleading motion. "I have sworn allegiance to Sesshomaru!"

Shimofuri was unmoved and unimpressed. "You are sworn to allegiance with me by blood." he stared down his uncle, his lips pressed into a thin, bitter line. "Your allegiance to Sesshomaru is one of fear and your own dishonor."

"Brought on by your madness!" Sasugainu shouted, letting his fury rise to the surface. "You must give him back his mate. You must! Call on him for mercy. Draw it up in writing that you will return her to him if only he will spare you…"

Shimofuri shook his head. "He would kill me rather than agree. I'm sure he isn't waiting for me to bring her back. He is searching her out, even as we sit here talking."

"Where is she?" Sasugainu blustered, desperately. "We can return her together and plead his forgiveness."

Shimofuri's eyes narrowed. "I will plead with no one." He turned his back on his uncle, scowling disgustedly. "You may tell Sesshomaru of my decision." He turned his eyes toward the sky, sighing slightly. "I will send him word if Lady Rin should feel she has something to say to him, of course."

"Madness!" Sasugainu shouted, beating at the air in frustration as Shimofuri's form wavered before him, becoming a large blue-gray dog instead. "You and that stupid bitch, both of you gone mad! What will it accomplish, Nephew? You are my sister's heir with no one to replace you! Useless fool, throwing your life away!"

Shimofuri didn't answer him, only looked back over his shoulder once, pink tongue lolling, and then bounded away over the hills, dashing into the thick mists and into the shadow of the trees where at last he became invisible. Sasugainu hesitated before turning back toward his home. He stood still and in a slumped, defeated posture.

It is suicide, Nephew…

Miroku and Sango stayed in the children's room with Kohimu, Tisoki, and Kasai after their arrival. Their youngest son, Masuyo, filled the house with his cries. Sango was subdued, sickly, and weak. The loss of her latest baby had been a hard blow. Never before had she had to endure the pains of labor only to see her child emerge limp and dead. In a way she considered herself luckier than if she had birthed the baby as a full term stillborn. In that case she could've seen the child fully formed, she could've carried the child longer inside her, thinking of its inevitable arrival.

And yet the horror stayed with her. The pains of labor, the bloody mass that was her baby and yet wasn't. She had begged Miroku and the midwife to allow her to see the child, half-formed as it was, but the midwife had insisted that Sango not be exposed to such horrors. The child was covered and hidden from her. Sango counted it as being like Kohaku, a part of her family whose fate ultimately she couldn't control, and who she'd never been able to properly say goodbye to.

It was only one of the many traumatic things that had happened within her relatively short lifetime, and Sango was stronger than anyone would've guessed—unless of course they'd seen her battling demons with hiraikotsu. She held Masuyo close and cried the tears she needed to shed.

Miroku stayed with her continually, refusing to leave her side. The child's loss affected him as well, perhaps even more so on some level, for unlike Sango, he had seen their miscarried baby. It's skin so thin that he could see the weaving blood vessels, its other organs deep inside, and its tiny, fragile heart. It wasn't beating, but Miroku had felt as if the child were pulling on his own soul, as if it might spring awake at any moment. It was surreal, unreal, and horrifying. To his shame he woke often at night from feverish, haunting dreams where the child did spring awake in his hand—it had fit just in the palm of one hand. He dreamed that invisible forces held him back as the midwife wrapped the child in rough, bloodstained cloth, smothering it as it sprang to life, breathing and squalling weakly. Always he was too late as he grabbed the precious bundle from her, always the child would have passed on as he unwrapped it, fractions of a second too late.

Sometimes he saw its eyes, violet like his own, or earthy brown like Sango's. Other times the child was Masuyo or Kasai, or Tisoki or Kohimu.

On the very day of their arrival, as Sango fell into sleep, Miroku left her for the nearest temple. Alone, without the need to be strong for Sango, he allowed himself to cry for their lost child at last. He prayed his nightmares would cease. He prayed for peace.

In this way time passed without remark. Rin's presence was nearly forgotten as grief wrapped itself around the household and the two different families it held within it.

After two weeks, which oddly felt like only a few days, Sango recovered, almost abruptly. She refused to speak of her loss openly, and instead she focused on her remaining children and on her husband with a fierce, solitary resolve. In spite of her weakness she joined Kagome in caring for the children and for the household. Miroku hovered behind her every step watchful and concerned.

The demon slayer, Sango as she was named, captivated Rin when she emerged, recovered physically from her loss. Sango and Rin had never met one another recently, not since before Naraku had been slain, but the demon slayer didn't appear surprised by the younger woman's presence. Miroku or Inuyasha had likely told her during her two weeks of exile and mourning. For now she had little interest in Rin, she held her baby son close to her, hugged her sons, and fussed over her only daughter. She had no curiosity left for the stranger inside Inuyasha and Kagome's home.

Until, of course, she heard of the connection they shared, the same painful loss. The priestess Hyakka was the one that let the news slip in one of her visits to both Rin and Sango. Though both women had recovered from their miscarriages—one keeping her baby and the other losing it—the herbal remedies continued. For Sango it was a mixture to strengthen her body after the loss of blood and nutrients, for Rin it was to keep her womb content and still.

After this news, Sango watched Rin while she taught the children, when she sat and learned Kagome's strange "English" language, and when she interacted with Tsukiyume or Shippo or Kagome. Part of her despised Rin for the simplest and basest feelings: jealousy. Rin was still pregnant while Sango had lost her own child. Yet at the same time, Sango caught the younger woman's expressions when she thought no one else was watching, and it was apparent to her that Rin was quietly miserable. Sango pitied her as well as feeling jealous. It hadn't been so long ago that she'd had to contend with Miroku's continual flirting with every woman of childbearing age.

Finally her chance came one morning when Miroku and Inuyasha took the children—Kohimu, Tisoki, Kasai, and Shippo—for a training excursion. Kagome stayed with Koinu, Akisame, Rin, and Tsukiyume. She was settling in for a lesson in "English" when Akisame threw a tantrum. Kagome, red faced with frustration at her daughter's screaming, excused herself and left for the gardens outside. Koinu, Rin, and Tsukiyume were left with the bizarre, foreign alphabet before them and with Sango sitting nearby, chewing up little bits of food for Masuyo.

Koinu's little white dog ears drooped. "Why doesn't Father take me?" he whimpered. All morning the boy had pouted sourly, wounded that Inuyasha had left him behind while taking all the others with he and Miroku. It was probably his gloomy mood that had set off his younger sister. The pup stared down at his small, nimble fingers, their clever, tight grasp of the pencil in his hand meant nothing to him when he longed to wield something like a sword, something his father would be proud of him for.

Tsukiyume let her own pencil fall flat. Her own clawed hands were clumsy when put beside Koinu's. "I'm sure he'll take you when you're older." She tried to comfort him, but her voice was shaky, uncertain.

Sango watched them keenly as she picked through the little bowl of sliced fruits she'd decided on as using for Masuyo's breakfast. Her son eagerly pawed at the bowl, but deftly, without even looking down at him, Sango moved it out of his reach and continued to chew the fruit into a mushy paste that he would be able to gum and swallow easily.

Koinu turned and actually glared at Tsukiyume, a rare expression for him. His ears flattened warningly. "Kasai is the same age as me!"

"Kasai will be my apprentice." Sango murmured when she'd spat the paste into her hand and lowered it to Masuyo's level, tempting him. "Kohimu and Tisoki started at the same age, Koinu."

"But she's learning to fight before me!" Koinu's eyes swelled with tears, though the youngster pawed at them irritably.

"Anyone could teach you to fight…" Tsukiyume murmured, trying to placate him, but only succeeding in angering him as he interpreted her words as an insult rather than as an offer to help.

Rin at last spoke up, though her voice was quiet, barely audible. "Inuyasha is waiting for your demonic powers to mature and strengthen."

Koinu faced her with bafflement, dumbstruck at this new possibility. His little ears quivered, his eyes were alight, but his expression clouded and formed into a frown as he stared at her. "How do you know?"

Throughout the exchange Rin remained focused on the pencil grasped between her fingers. Like Tsukiyume she found it odd, but she enjoyed the difficulty and newness of the lessons and the odd language. She enjoyed it all the more because it distracted her from thoughts of Sesshomaru. She pressed the pencil tip to the lined paper again, trying to wrap her brain deeply around the curves and waves of the letters.

"Youkai children are trained very slowly." She closed her eyes, recalling the lessons she'd had on youkai, their biology, their beliefs, their traditions, their clans…

"You're right." Sango agreed with her sharply, startling Rin into lifting her gaze and meeting the demon slayer's stare. "Shippo's powers have only just started to appear. Koinu, your father may have taken Kasai with him today, but she won't be able to use Tetsusaiga."

Koinu's face brightened, his ears perked up eagerly. "Really?" he looked between Sango and Rin, "How long do I have to wait?"

Sango smiled gently, scooping Masuyo into one arm and snatching up the tiny bowl of fruit in the other. She scooted closer to the table, settling near Rin, who stiffened at the unexpected closeness by the demon slayer. "Why don't you go find your mother and ask her, Koinu? She might know something."

Koinu nodded and backed away from the table hurrying out toward the kitchen and the sliding door that lead out into the garden where Kagome was letting Akisame blow off some steam.

As soon as Koinu had gone, Sango focused her attention on Rin. The younger woman's body was beginning to round with pregnancy more noticeably, her robes were borrowed from Kagome and therefore too long for her. Her hair had been cut in a courtly style, though it wasn't pinned on her head in the proper manner. Sango took all of this in and then bowed slightly. "Lady Rin…?"

Rin fought the instinctual frown that tried to cover her face. "You don't have to call me that."

Tsukiyume watched their exchange with wide, curious orange eyes.

"You were Lord Sesshomaru's ward as a child." Sango narrowed her eyes at Rin carefully, dredging through her memory. Masuyo, unnoticed, fished his fingers into the bowl of sliced fruit and pulled one out clumsily, rubbing it over his face messily. "I remember you." Sango's expression loosened, her eyes and mouth opened with shock. "Kohaku tried to kill you."

Rin shook her head slowly, staring resolutely down at the lined paper in front of her, but the pencil shook in her fingers awkwardly. "I don't know what you're…"

"He was my little brother." Sango explained, turning her gaze to the ceiling. Rin noticed the shine of tears in the corners of the demon slayer's eyes, pooling in her tear ducts, catching in her lashes. "Naraku…possessed him." there was no other word she could think of to describe Kohaku's enslavement underneath the evil demon.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Rin frowned, feeling trapped and helpless. Naraku was a creature she scarcely remembered. Her childhood memories were dominated by Sesshomaru after the tragic death of her parents and brothers. He had replaced everything else in her life. Dimly she could recall a boy from her past, a human boy in the guise of a demon slayer's sleek body armor. But as she saw Sango's reaction, Rin cringed, realizing her apology would also remind the demon slayer of her recent miscarriage. "I'm sorry…" she blundered again, but Sango waved one hand dismissively, silencing her.

"Forgive me." Sango bowed a little and, at last seeing Masuyo's pillaged fruit, she tore the thing from her little son's hands. "One of the priestesses told me that when you first arrived here you were ill." Sango eyed Rin with a mixture of emotions, impossible to read in their complexity. "I am glad to see you recovered."

Tsukiyume's ears flattened, she bit her lip. "Lady Sango," she interrupted meekly, but her words trailed off weakly, she had nothing else to say to distract the demon slayer with.

Sango and Rin all but ignored her anyway, they had become tangled in their own game, sizing one another up, making their first real impressions.

Stiffly, Rin bowed. "I thank you for your concern, Lady Sango." She addressed the demon slayer formally but coldly, "But I have not always been so fortunate."

This stopped Sango, making her blink and her lips, already parted for whatever her next words were; pinch in on themselves for a moment. The small wrinkles around her eyes loosened, relaxing. She searched Rin's face carefully before she spoke again. "I'm sorry…" her tone indicated subtlety that she didn't understand. It was a request for more information.

Rin gave it to her, trembling with bitterness. "I have lost more children than you have birthed."

Sango withdrew slightly, flinching. She appeared about to respond, but her words were lost as the front door slid open with a loud clattering noise. Heavy footsteps made the three young women turn their heads blinkingly to regard the newcomers—Inuyasha and Miroku had returned. Koinu followed his father proudly now, with newfound confidence, his tears already forgotten and buried.

If only other pains could be discarded so easily.

Sango pulled Masuyo close to her and bowed slightly to Rin. "Lady…" it was the first time Sango had afforded Rin a title and meant it. She left the sitting table as Koinu found his seat again, happily perched between Rin and Tsukiyume, ready to continue his lesson.

Rin tried to focus on the table, on the pencil in her short, narrow fingers, but her eyes darted toward where Sango and Miroku were meeting again, embracing lovingly, albeit awkwardly around Masuyo. She felt both a connection to the slayer and a deep, burning jealousy. Sango had been blessed with many of the things Rin was denied. A husband that was loyal and a good father, as well as a brood of healthy, intelligent children to dote on. She empathized with Sango for her miscarriage, while at once the jealousy made her wary and self-conscious.

"Are you all right?" Tsukiyume asked her, cautiously, leaning over Koinu as she spoke.

Rin nodded without looking at the hanyou girl. "I'm fine." But her face was hard, her hands shaking.

Fumou was found within days of the edict that was issued—signed by Sesshomaru—against him. Daken sent him with his messenger, Oushi, to Sesshomaru at the Insen. The monkey spent the journey encased in a closed, horse-drawn cart. He was not told where he was going or who would greet him when he arrived. He accepted his fate with more dignity than Daken or Oushi would've guessed was possible. He was shackled, hands and feet, as well as tied to the cart by youkai magic.

The monkey youkai was short, squat, and blue-skinned. His fur was thick, richly white. When he smiled with nervousness—for the little youkai seemed to like to smile as much as Daken liked to smirk—his canine teeth were long and pointed, although very narrow, almost needle-like. His grin was disconcerting to the inuyoukai, as were his eyes: they were pure black, like bits of charcoal imbedded against his white fur, like a snowman's eyes.

The journey to Insen didn't take very long and Fumou arrived without incident, Oushi guarding him. The prisoner was received in a small room where the shutters had been shut and no lamps burned. It was utterly dark, a bad thing for the monkey youkai. For the first time Fumou was nervous. He couldn't see in the dim light, his eyes were as poor as a human's in the dark. The inuyoukai, meanwhile, could observe him shaking and sweating with growing terror whether it was dark or not. His fear-stink made them scowl disgustedly.

When Sesshomaru at last entered the room, Oushi was startled by the lord's appearance. He was dressed loosely, wearing a simple white robe without any armor adornments. Even his sword was missing; there was nothing around his waist, only the sash to keep his kimono closed. He was waif-like, graceful as always, but thinner. As he sat, announced by a small, round bald servant, Oushi caught the hollows beneath Sesshomaru's eyes as well as the new sharpness in the lines of his face.

"Fumou." Sesshomaru muttered the monkey's name coldly.

The little youkai tensed, shivering as if it were cold in the room, but in actuality it was blazing hot. Without the shutters and windows open the little room had overheated with Oushi, the monkey, and the five or so guards lining the walls. Sesshomaru, however, looked cool and unruffled by the sticky heat or the stink of perspiration.

"Y-yes?" the monkey replied, shaking.

"Do you know why you have been taken into custody?"

Fumou doubled over, clever, nimble hands clutching at his stomach as if in pain. "I…I made a m-mistake."

Sesshomaru was silent, waiting, calculating.

Fumour went on, stuttering. "I was asked t-to…" he stopped, beginning to hyperventilate. When the silence dragged on beyond a minute, Oushi nudged the monkey with his foot, prodding him to continue. Fumou finished, blurting out, "I poisoned the lady of the house!"

His confession was greeted with silence. The monkey searched the darkness, eyes dilated wide with shock. It was probably the best he'd seen in the dark in all of this lifetime. He could make out the whiteness of the lord seated before him, but the guards dressed in dark beyond were merely shadows. Sesshomaru's face was a blur of different shaded shadows, unclear. It was impossible to read his expression.

"It was n-not my d-doing!" he gasped, beginning to rock back and forth. The shackles around his wrists and ankles jangled as he moved. "I w-was a-asked…"

"By whom?" Sesshomaru asked. His voice, surprisingly, was almost gentle.

Fumou stopped moving, taken aback. He squinted hopelessly at the white figure before him. "Samurai lords…" he was beginning to realize he was being interrogated, cooperation might ensure his survival, or at least a lessening of his punishment.

Oushi grunted and prodded Fumou with his foot again. "What lords?"

"There were three of them!" Fumou licked his lips, speaking fast. "The pay, it was…" he shook his head, "I couldn't turn it away!" he fell forward, crying and begging for mercy pathetically.

"Which lords, what clans?" Oushi repeated, seeing a slight nod from Sesshomaru, his only signal.

"The Okorinbou!" Fumou whimpered, blubbering. "They brought a kitsune to supply the herbs…"

"Kaiban." Sesshomaru murmured the kitsune's name and Fumou looked up, eyes wide and shining.

"Yes, that was his name…"

There was a commotion from the door that Sesshomaru had entered the room from. A man dressed in black armor entered, carrying a sack. He did not sit and did not speak, but all eyes landed on him immediately—with the exception, of course, of Sesshomaru, who stared straight ahead at Fumou instead. The man in black reached into the sack and pulled out something. It was round, the size roughly of a bowling ball, but heavier, though Fumou didn't know that. The man hefted the strange round shape, tossing it at Fumou.

The monkey cringed, crying out and lifting his arms to shield his face from what he assumed was a weapon…but the thing bounced, harmless although heavy, away from his hands. It sprayed a sticky, cold liquid onto Fumou's face, hands, and chest. The monkey's eyes told him it was a dark substance, his nose told him it was blood—kitsune blood. Sesshomaru had had the kitsune Kaiban's head tossed at Fumou.

He began to sob, rocking back and forth and pleading for forgiveness.

"Which lords?" Sesshomaru asked this now, again with the nearly gentle tone.

"Please don't kill me!" Fumou begged piteously.

"Their names." Sesshomaru ordered, this time a little more tersely.

Fumou blubbered incoherently, too sick with fear of his own death to be of any use. A long pause came and went as the monkey mewled and cried helplessly, then, at last, Sesshomaru rose to his feet.

"For your crimes you will be punished." He murmured, quiet and cold, and then, fractions of a second later, he exacted that punishment. Lunging forward, Sesshomaru was a white streak as he crossed the little room to Fumou and slashed with his lightly green-glowing fingers, severing the monkey youkai's head in a single blow. The pathetic cries and pleading were silenced, replaced by the hiss of blood as it gurgled and pulsed out of Fumou's body and drained from his severed head.

Sesshomaru flicked blood from his claws nonchalantly. "Dispose of his body." Now, for the first time, Oushi could pick out anger inside the lord's voice.

He bowed low. "Yes Lord Sesshomaru."

"Have the head stored."

Oushi nodded, already cringing at the stink of blood and death in the room, but he had to ask, "Both heads, my lord?"

Sesshomaru was already turning to leave the room. "Yes, both heads." And then he was gone.

A/N: Done!