Dying to Live

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.

By the time Rin and the rescuer dropped to their knees beside Sesshomaru, his breathing had mercifully almost normalized. The stranger had already quickly given his name as Jirou Kitajo, a ranger in the employ of Lord Takizawa. While hearing a short, jumbled description from Rin of the events before his arrival on the scene, Jirou Kitajo did a very capable, cursory check over Sesshomaru's vitals before assuring Rin that aside from fatigue, Sesshomaru's condition seemed otherwise stable. He guessed that Sesshomaru had probably passed out soon after he began hyperventilating. He explained that the body would naturally trigger a fainting reaction in such a case in order to allow the lungs to reestablish an even breathing pattern. Then, with one strong heave, he lifted Sesshomaru up onto his broad, right shoulder and heading to his steed pronounced, "He needs bed rest. Can you ride that horse by yourself?"

She noticed that the ranger was referring to her little brown mare, which thankfully still stood with them in the middle of the creek bed. Feeling badly shaken and distracted with the prospect of getting Sesshomaru care, she replied with the first answer that came to mind, "Yes, it's my horse." She caught sight of the ranger's rather stunned expression, as she hopped up into the stirrups. It was only much later when she realized that he had probably been querying more about her condition after the incident and not about her familiarity with horses.

However, it didn't matter much; the fact was that Rin could indeed ride. At that moment, perhaps that was all she could do. For the next few minutes, her body drifted up and down in her saddle, while she sensed herself simultaneously fighting to feel nothing and everything at once. On the one hand, she had the strange sensation of being reduced to little more than a pair of floating eyes, racing over the forest floor. In the wake of the trauma, it was as if the rest of her had been swallowed up into a giant chasm: pain, fear, fatigue, all gone in a single gulp of the universe. The only indication of her own physical being was the sound and brush of her own breath past her parted lips, which she now felt acutely. That and she felt her mind reaching out wildly, attempting to focus on key pieces of scenery: an unique, jagged tree there; a moss covered rock in their path there; Sesshomaru's long, silky, slate colored locks lifting on the wind behind his limp body tied upright with a sash to the ranger's back. She understood deep inside that only the dregs of raw, irrational adrenaline were keeping her from collapsing on the spot.

Jirou Kitajo pulled up hard on his reigns only when they finally arrived back at Lord Takizawa's rest house in Yaga. Two scruffy little boys in rough homespun jogged up from the inn's main entrance, and the ranger called two sets of orders down to them that Rin heard not at all before she watched the boys go in split directions. Jirou Kitajo dismounted by the door, and shakily, she took it as her cue to do the same.

Barely a minute later, one of the little scamps returned with an older, round-faced woman wearing an apron. Her visage slowly swam up from within Rin's memory, letting her recall the woman as the innkeep's wife. She had fussed about dinner and just about everything else about the place, seeing to this and that with constant, motherly attentiveness. As the woman and boy approached, bustling with concern, a small group of onlookers was already collecting to the scene. Another younger man dressed in attire similar to Jirou's elbowed his way to the front and hailed his fellow ranger. Jirou yelled something commanding sounding to him, and the young ranger disappeared from the growing sea of faces now noisily pushing in on Rin and Sesshomaru. Rin just watched, trying to get a grip, as she kept clutching stiffly to her mare's thick leather reigns. Feeling increasingly claustrophobic in her hyperawareness amid the whirl of faces and voices, she let her body tip against the side of her mare. She tried to match her breathing to the rhythmic, tide-like rise and fall of the animal's side.

"Get him to one of the private rooms," the woman told Jirou, her voice steadier and nearer seeming than the ones swirling around them. A solid, hot, awakening hand cupped Rin's shoulder, and the round, motherly face ducked into her vision. "Come, girl, let's get ye washed up," the matriarch's steadying, rock-like voice drifted up to her ears. She grasped the woman's proffered hand like it was a life-preserving piece of driftwood in the middle of the sea.

With an arm around Rin, the innkeep's wife guided her through twistier, narrower halls that Rin and Sesshomaru had not seen during the rest of their stay. They caught up with Jirou at one of the small chambers along the passageway, just as he was pushing himself through the doorway past a confused -looking, little maid. Letting go of Rin's shoulders but still keeping a reassuring hold of one of her hands, the innkeep's wife paused only to issue directions to the maid before she guided Rin farther down the hall.

"Se-Sesshomaru," Rin heard her own voice shiver past her lips, as she felt her feet hesitating beneath her.

"Yes, I know, dear. Jirou told me you're a brave girl, but your man's being taken care of for now. So it's time you take care of yourself," the woman spoke softly to her, her hands rubbing life into her upper arms, as she motioned for Rin to step out of her shoes at the threshold to the bathroom.

Over the threshold, she pulled Rin to a polished wooden stool in front of a shiny silver mirror. As the woman swept away into a barely noticeable adjoining room, Rin's gaze ranged to the glass hanging on the wall. Her lips parted slightly as she saw herself.

She looked positively affright. Twigs and crushed leaves sprung from her tangled hair in this and that direction. Her pale cheeks, neck, and clavicles were smudged with mud and hot, red friction rashes. Three of her fingernails were cracked; the others were torn. Her face would have been mostly fine, except for the scratches wetly scabbing on her chin, but then she noticed the red crust in the corners of her mouth. The man's blood still stained her front teeth. She almost didn't reach the bucket in the corner of the room before she emptied the entire contents of her stomach into it.

"There, there, dear." The mistress of the lodge had returned and was gently thumping her on the back. "Let it all out. It's over now." Seeing that Rin had finished retching, she immediately took the corner of her white apron and wiped the edges of the girl's mouth clean and reached for a tin cup full of clear water. "It's hard t'see yerself so out of sorts. But we'll fix it. Drink this. Spit. That's right, yer going to be fine."

With Rin seated once more on the wooden stool, the woman circled her quickly, speedily picking the debris and knots from her hair with agile fingers and a wide toothed comb of bone. Putting the comb away, next she untied the knots on the side of Rin's dark green hakama pants. She tisked softly as she inspected the mud ground into the silk around the knees then folded them and put them to the side.

As the innkeep's wife turned back, Rin debated for a second whether she would allow her to undress her any further. She still felt so vulnerable. But she also felt so, so tired. She wasn't sure she even had the strength left to lift the water ladle to wash the sweat, blood, and dirt away. So giving herself completely over to this motherly lady, who patiently moved her limbs here and there, seeing her bare body without really looking, Rin allowed her to slide away the last layers of her silks and small clothes.

With all of Rin's filthy clothes removed, the woman handed her a soft, light-colored bathing cloth to hold in front of her body and directed her into the attached bathroom. Inside, the quaint space was outfitted with five bathing stations, each with its own stool and bucketful of bathing implements. A large bath already filled with steaming water was built into one end of the room. It was obvious that this smaller bathroom was normally reserved for the exclusive use of the more humble members of the upper class and their families – at least those who actually did deign or had no choice but to stay in the public inns. The privacy and closeness of the washing stations would have allowed for discreet conversations, as well as probably all other manner of secretive intrigue, depending on the purposes of the ones hiring these more secluded spaces of the lodge.

Rin, however, thought little of all this as she chose a stool and let the innkeep's wife shower several ladles of the hot water over her exhausted form. The water steamed, still hot from the tinder heated rocks that kept boiling water brought from the inn's well. It pained her skin as it poured over her, but at the moment, it felt good, this burning, sterilizing sensation. So as the lady began to lift and turn parts of her body to scrub them, slowly, Rin felt herself coming back to life, from back to front, from finger to toe. The woman's touch was a mother's, nurturing and redemptive, nothing like the molestation she had suffered earlier in the day. She brushed hard at Rin's arms and legs until the skin turned red, even where there was no visible dirt. Maybe she understood that Rin needed cleansing of more than just common dirt and soil before she would feel totally clean again.

After a while, she moved on to Rin's hair, rubbing scented oil into it. As she did so, she handed a bar of lye to the girl and told her to cleanse her chest and the area around her upper thighs. She signed sympathetically, as she observed how tenderly Rin touched the area around her left breast where the dead man's fingerprints remained embossed in four, deep violet blossoms.

"Well, it looks like the filth didn't totally get to ye at least, did he?" the woman remarked.

When Rin looked at her blankly, she elaborated a little awkwardly, "I mean pick yer flower, girl, as in finish the dirty task?"

Immediately, Rin understood. "N-no, thankfully the ranger came before he could…" she trailed off.

"Mm," the woman agreed. "Certainly was a good thing Jirou was there. Those men could've easily done things worse than jus' deflower ye. Could've sold ye off to any of the urban pleasure districts along this route… A pretty, fresh face like yers would fetch a high price."

Her words echoed chillingly in Rin's mind: "That's what he said—the man who attacked me."

The innkeep's wife stayed silent for a moment before speaking very directly: "Of course, men know when they see something beautiful. Jus' too bad some of them deserve to have their eyes gouged out." She dragged the last of the oil in her fingers through Rin's hair, turned, and hefted up the last of the warm water in the bucket. "Now close your eyes," she instructed.

As the water fell like a warm sheet over her, Rin thought about the woman's words. Though they were harsh, Rin felt grateful for the sympathy this motherly lady meant to impart, one woman to another.

:

After her bath was finished, the innkeep's wife dressed her in one of the inn's white, cotton house yukata and took her to Sesshomaru and their room. Left with a hot pot of tea and a few rice cakes, Rin sank down beside Sesshomaru's futon and watched him sleep. How many times had she watched him sleep like this recently, wondering when he would awaken? Too many, she thought, feeling so tired.

She bowed her head and shut her eyes, meaning only to do so for a couple minutes, but time passed, and when she woke up again, her hair was almost completely dry from her bath. Sesshomaru still slept, unchanged, and Jirou Kitajo had entered the room.

"Hello," the ranger whispered with a bow of his head. "Sorry to wake you, Oku-san."

Still trying to shake the drowsiness from her mind, Rin didn't register the honorific he had used at first. Then, reddening slightly, she replied, "Oh, um, you can just call me Rin."

She saw, as the way he looked at her changed ever so slightly. She had conspicuously offered no family name and had rejected the honorific by offering her given name… and now, he was thinking about that. Still, well-mannered, he recovered quickly enough: "Well, Rin-san, may we have a word briefly?"

Once outside the room, Jirou Kitajo gestured for her to walk with him. He began to talk as they made their way out onto a nearby porch that had been closed in for winter with light-colored wood and rice paper covered panels that let in the daylight. A heavy, cast iron brazier glowed in the corner, but the air in the little exterior room remained cool. "On behalf of Lord Takizawa, as one of his rangers, I extend his apologies for what happened to you at the creek bed. Horse thievery has been a growing problem in this region, and so Lord Takizawa has recently organized our task force to break up their activities in his domain. We need to do our job more swiftly, so this sort of thing doesn't happen to other travelers like yourselves."

"Oh, thank you, I mean for the apology, but also for coming when you did. That's what really mattered," Rin said, trying to formulate an appropriate response to his more formal statements.

"Still, for your trouble, Lord Takizawa offers his hospitality. Your room and board here for the next couple days will be completely covered, free of charge to you," the ranger added, his expression sincere as he looked at her.

"Oh my! Lord Takizawa must be a very good lord!" she exclaimed, by way of showing her appreciation. "It seems like he takes unusually good care of his people."

Jirou Kitajo's mouth curved into a small smile that didn't quite reach his dark eyes, as he replied, "Yes, he is well loved here." To Rin's surprise, looking at him now, she realized that Jirou actually had a kind looking face. He seemed much younger than she originally thought, too. "He's very unusual among the lords. Even on the street, they know his name and call him the 'Big Hearted Buddhist'," he added.

"That is really amazing," she agreed. Then, she decided to ask a question that had just come into her mind. "If Lord Takizawa is such a committed servant of the Buddha though, won't he be mad that you killed those two men? I-I hope I don't sound like I'm being impudent—I'm only curious," she added a little anxiously, realizing she hadn't really thought about the sound of her words.

"No, no," Jirou Kitajo waved away her fears. "Buddhist by name or not, Lord Takizawa didn't gain his territories by prayer and good acts, but I think that he certainly aims to keep them by the latter at least. At any rate, when you work as a bow for hire for enough rich men, you can't help but realize that tenants like absolute pacifism are kept only by the elite and extremely wealthy or the reclusive. That's why they need men like me. So to answer your question: I am but a servant of Lord Takizawa and not a Buddhist one at that," he finished with a devilish smirk, the kind worn best by self-assured, young men.

His explanation was much bolder than she had expected. "Ah, sou…" Rin responded with a comprehending nod, deciding that a more passive reply would probably be more prudent at the moment.

"Ah, I almost forgot: there's one other thing," the ranger said, breaking the pause in the conversation. "When the other rangers and I went back to the site, we found these," he said, pulling something from a satchel slung across his back. Rin saw that they were her fur stole and red hair ribbon.

"I had completely forgotten about them!" she exclaimed and reached out to receive them. "Arigatou gozaimasu!"

"Iie, iie," Jirou Kitajo replied politely. Then, with a small bow, he bid her adieu, "Well, I should be going now. Hope the rest of your journey is much safer."

"Oh, okay—bye, then," she said, returning his bow. Apparently, he had said everything to her that he needed, she supposed.

She stayed out on the enclosed porch for several minutes after the ranger turned and stepped over the threshold. The early evening light had diminished rapidly, and before long, there was only the dim, red-orange light from the hot coals to keep her company. Feeling cold, she wandered back to their room and crawled under the heavy blankets of the futon beside Sesshomaru's. For a few minutes, she listened for his breathing in the darkness and, catching its rhythm, she gave in to sleep.

:

Slowly—very slowly—Sesshomaru sat up in bed. The view of the room turned vertical, and he inhaled. A sharp, pinching pain cinched his diaphragm for a moment, and his left hand reflexively clutched at his chest. The intense memory of the events from the day before suddenly stabbed him from somewhere inside his mind, as images flashed before his eyes of the ugly faced brute kicking him and Rin's dirt and tear-streaked face contorted into a twisted scream.

Red hot anger boiled up through him. In his mouth, his spit turned bitter. A second later, his fist connected with the wall with a loud CRACK.

Beside him, he might have heard Rin's surprised gasp, as she startled awake, except Sesshomaru wasn't hearing anything at the moment. Every fiber of his brain was flooding with rage soaked regret for everything to which his pathetic life had come.

"Wha-What was that?" Rin mumbled. Still disoriented, she looked anxiously around the room. Her eyes lighted upon Sesshomaru. "Oh thank goodness—you're awa-" she began to say.

He shook the pain from the wall out of his left hand and hid his face in his palm. Rin started when she noticed the depression in the uncovered plaster. "Why must I keep waking up to this—this nightmare?" he choked out, his voice strained and uneven with emotion.

"Don't… say that," Rin said, her voice refusing to come out above a whisper.

"Don't tell me what to do!" he snapped, finally looking at her.

She automatically tried to stifle the little gasp that escaped her when she looked into his eyes, but it was too late.

"WHAT?" he demanded, looking slightly crazy, as he saw her reaction.

"Nothing!" she squeaked from behind her raised hands. "It's just your eye, it's—"

Sesshomaru was already on his feet with a pained groan and leaning inches from the dresser mirror, trying to see in the dim interior light of their room.

He turned toward Rin, jabbing a finger in the direction of his eye. The white around his right eye's dusty brown iris had been totally soaked red by a blood vessel apparently broken by stress. "What is that?" he asked, sounding horrified.

Rin squirmed. She didn't really know. "It just looks like blood. It'll probably go away soon," she guessed, hoping she sounded more reassuring than she thought she did.

He released an anguished groan. "I hate this! I wish I was dead!" he finally cried out.

"But by living, we still have a chance to set things right again! Don't you see that?" Rin asked, her voice rising in exasperation.

Sesshomaru erupted: "I told you! You can't UNDERSTAND! You'll NEVER understand what it's like!" On his final words, almost his entire body shook with rage. Rin imagined him splitting at the seams like a worn out fabric toy.

It didn't matter, though: she was repulsed by his words and his apparent lack of regard for her.

He would never understand what it was like to be nearly raped in the dirt, she felt like screaming, but she didn't. Instead, her expression darkened. "Why are you being like this?" she whispered, her voice now sounding dangerously soft to her own ears.

That was it for the Lord of the Western Lands: "Damn you! I'll be however I like!" he thundered.

The soft tap on the shoji door punctuated the air like static electricity. From her futon, Rin looked at Sesshomaru where he stood at the foot of her bedding, breathing angrily; from the way he held his shoulders, she could tell his respiration was still labored. Jerk, she thought bitterly, looking away from him before clearing her throat to say, "Come in."

Rin waited a minute before repeating a little louder for whomever it was to come in, but it seemed like no one was there. She didn't bother to go to the door. She understood now that it had been a warning knock. Other people in the inn had heard them shouting and had probably complained. How embarrassing, she sighed, not hiding her disgust. Carefully, without looking at the man standing in the middle of the room again, she pushed back the covers and left the room to bathe.

:::

Note 1: Hey all~ Sorry it's been so long! And the prior chapter ended with a really bad cliffhanger too – hope you can forgive me, hee hee. Life just hasn't provided me with much opportunity to write lately, but finally this chapter is complete.

Note 2: So Sesshomaru's being sort of a bad boy again in this chapter, but even though I'm purposely writing this so you'll sympathize more quickly with Rin at the moment, poor Sesshy really is going through a lot. Bear with his bad behavior a bit, even if Rin, understandably, is getting frustrated with him. Like I've said before, their relationships going to hit a couple of real low points in this story before they can build it back up again into something even more deep and complex. Also, the way I see it, Sesshomaru is definitely used to being more of a villain/antihero type character with fewer expectations placed on his character to behave nicely, so it's going to take some time for him to break free of that mold. To be honest, I have read stories where he sort of seems to become a model protagonist (lover, brother, father, friend, you name it) in just one or two chapters, and while I occasionally enjoy that, it always kind of gives me whiplash. And if there are two things I would describe this fanfic as, it would be a slow burner emotionally and definitely non-canon.

Note 3: Oku-san is how one would respectfully refer to another person's wife in Japanese. I don't totally know whether this context is quite right for this kind of address, but it works for the point I wanted to get across- that the nature of Rin and Sesshomaru's relationship is only going to get more complicated with the more people they get involved with.

That's all for now, friends! I appreciate your patience in waiting for this story. The update could be a while in coming again but have faith! Many thanks again to all of you who review, follow, and favorite – it means a lot! ;) Origamikungfu.