Sword-Dancers

Author: Carcinya (Isolde on Author E-mail:
Category: Action/Adventure - Romance
Keywords: Rin Sesshoumaru Inuyasha sword-dance curse
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Up to episode 122 (Anime)
Summary: Ten years after Naraku's defeat, Sesshoumaru and Rin wander the land, accompanied by the ever-present Jaken. As the Lord and the orphan, now sword-mates, struggle to decipher their feelings, a new threat
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Rumiko Takahashi, various publishers including but not limited to Anime-Kraze, Sunrise and Shonen Sunday. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The whole sword-dancers concept is Jennifer Roberson's (May her quill never cease writing. Amen), though I modified it to suit my tastes - and the story's. Two worlds is Phil Collins'. The plot and everything you don't recognize are mine.

Author's notes: I decided that in twelve years Sesshoumaru would likely find a way to have his left arm back. So sue me. ;o)

The reaction of Kenaku reflects only his opinion. Not mine.

Read and review, please!

Chapter 1: Two worlds

Sword-dancer.

A word which has stirred the imagination of humans and youkais alike for centuries, promising incredible power, offering strange magic, whispering fascinating tales.

Many people dreamed of becoming a sword-dancer.

Probably because none of them knew what it meant.

Discipline. Discipline. Discipline.

And trust me, I know. I have had this word literally hammered in my head for over ten years by a particularly arrogant youkai. Who happened to be a thousand times better than I could ever hope to become. Now that was motivating.

The youkai in question was, at the moment, standing at the edge of the clearing, ignoring my very presence pointedly. Just because, after six hours of intensive training, I decided to call it a day. Hearing him, you'd think it was the end of the world...

Don't get me wrong. I like him. I really do. But after twelve years of shared life - so to speak - I feel I have the right to speak my mind. And I will, whenever I think it necessary. I am not another Jaken, nor do I want to be.

Sesshoumaru-sama told me once I was the only being in existence who had challenged him - challenged him continuously. And yet lived to tell the tale. I admit it. As a teenager, I was difficult. Obnoxious, even, but in a charming, cute sort of way. Or not, according to Jaken. Sesshoumaru-sama bore my whims with admirable stoicism. Such a courageous demon, he is.

Normal, human teenage-hood is a difficult age for everyone. It's the time when you want to find your own place in the world, but you don't even know where to start. Or if you will have the strength. And so you're scared. And so you lash out at the nearest person you find.

Now imagine growing up alongside three youkais - including Aun - one of whom thinks he is better than anyone else in the world. (Which he is, all right, but that's not really the point. He doesn't have to be so bloody haughty about it.)

So. Finding your place in the world. Right. Which world?

The human, or the youkai one?

None of them will ever accept you, because you don't fit. Not a youkai, in body. Not an human, in mind.

I remember one day, perhaps five, or six years ago. For some months, I had become increasingly interested in humankind. Jaken was always so quick to remind me I wasn't a demon, so I wanted - no, I needed to know what I was, exactly. Then perhaps I could discover who I desired to become.
It was a radiant day of June, very hot and sticky, and thus I decided to cool down a little. I waited till we passed by a river, and then I told Jaken I would catch up with them later. On the riverbank stood an old woman, wearing red threadbare robes. She was washing some clothes. Somewhat awkwardly - I hadn't spoken to another human for years - I greeted her. As she lifted her wrinkled head, her gaze meet mine. She assessed me quickly.

"Youkai," she spat, pointing an accusative finger to Kentsuki, which I wore in a leather harness across my back.

The contempt and fear in her voice was heartbreaking. She picked up her belongings and left hurriedly, without so much as a backward glance.

I didn't even bother to run after her. On the sand shore of an unknown river, I cried until my eyes hurt. But that didn't appease my rage and my grief. I hated the world. And I hated myself even more.

When I was done crying, I numbly became aware that someone was watching me. I turned around swiftly, my hand on Kentsuki's hilt. Jaken stood a few paces behind me, looking faintly ill. Sesshoumaru-sama had probably sent him to watch over me, even though he knew it pissed me no end. In my youthful arrogance I thought my - feeble - mastering of the dance made me untouchable. How childish I was then.

Obviously Jaken had witnessed the whole incident. Including my miserable display of self-pity.

I expected scorn, mockery of my weak human heart. I also knew this time, it would be too much to bear.

"No need to remind me how pathetic I am. Trust me, I know," I murmured quietly, drying my soaked face with the back of my hand.

Jaken swallowed audibly, then seemed to pull himself together. He fidgeted, hesitating, moved near me and patted my black hair rather embarrassedly.

"Pay no attention to that old hag. She's only a worthless human, after all," he declared after a moment, steering his paw away.

Renewed tears rolled down my cheeks, and I did nothing to stop them.

"And me, Jaken-sama? What about me?" I cried eventually, unable to contain my anguish anymore. "Am I worthless scum, too?"

The toad youkai opened his mouth, then closed it, realizing the impact of his words.

"You are Rin, apprentice sword-dancer," said a deep, smooth voice behind us, "and that is more than most could claim."

Startled, I leaped to my feet.

"Sesshoumaru-sama!" I stammered, before I looked down, mortified. In two graceful strides the taiyoukai was by my side, paying Jaken no mind. One of his clawed hand brushed softly the tears away, lifting my chin. Though his expression remained the same, the fierceness of his amber gaze surprised me.

"Never, ever, be ashamed of what you are."

"I won't."

Sesshoumaru-sama released me, and set off in the direction of Aun, not once looking back. Jaken hurried after him, while I simply relished in the wonderful normality of that scene. I couldn't help but smiling.

I understood, now.

The inu-youkai. The toad. Even the two-headed dragon.

My companions.

My strength.

My world.

It was a tranquil, cold morning of January. The sun had hardly risen, offering few warmth. Our paces echoed eerily in the silence, the fresh snow screeching under the sole of our boots.

"Rin-sama! Wait up, Rin-sama! Please!"

I froze in horror. "Kenaku," I let out with a painful sigh. That was my luck.

"Is it that region again?" said Jaken, exasperated. I couldn't say I blamed him.

Kenaku was a young farmer of a nearby village who fancied himself desperately in love with me. I had saved his life three years ago, and thus he decided, despite my repeated denials, that he was to marry me. Which implied kissing me passionately. Sesshoumaru-sama was not amused.

Kenaku was maybe a fool, but not yet suicidal. He sagely settled for a distant - but fervent - adoration. Did I mention he was a stubborn one? Not the brightest tool in the box, either.

Which meant every time we traveled in the proximity of his village, Kenaku appeared. Perhaps he did have a sixth sense. Or else he spent his whole life being on the lookout for me. I didn't know which prospect was the creepiest.

I would rather face any sword-dance than another encounter with me. Yet it seemed there was no helping it. He was running our way.

What would it be this time? Offertories? Human sacrifices? Self-immolation? Now that would be a nice way to start the year.

No.

Worse.

Proposal.

And so here I was, standing in the snow, facing Kenaku's eager, open face. Wondering how the hell I would back out from this one without hurting the poor boy too much.

"Rin-sama, let's go. Everything is ready, everyone is waiting!" He appeared extraordinarily happy. I certainly wasn't.

"Kenaku-kun... Err..." Now to find a good excuse...

"All the villages in the region know about it. The feast will be such a great event!"

"What?"

No more time for subtleties.

"I can't marry you, Kenaku. I like girls. I'm sorry." If that didn't calm him, I guessed I would have to run.

That seemed to shut him up for a moment. He thought about it - a very intense and unusual activity, which I took great care of not interrupting - then his grin slowly disappeared.

"So... you're a freak, then?" he asked hesitantly.

I was. But not for the reason he thought.

"Yes," I replied quietly, and a small smile escaped my chapped lips, "and damn proud of it, too."

All his earlier enthusiasm seemed to have plainly disappeared. He stared at me, and for the first time, I saw disgust written in his hazel eyes. I had waited for that moment for years. And yet... it smarted. Rejection was never easy to accept, even coming from someone you weren't fond of. I pushed back the emotion quickly.

After a few minutes of intent scrutiny, he turned away without a word.

I sighed, watching his retreating form grow smaller in the distance. Then we set out again on the road. I walked between Aun and Sesshoumaru-sama, struggling to keep up with the taiyoukai's greater speed. Jaken had climbed on the two-headed dragon sometime before Kenaku's departure, and was now snoring loudly. Youkais don't need to sleep, strictly speaking, but the toad was never against a little snooze once in a while.
And I was the weak one out there. Go figure.

"Girls?"

I shrugged inelegantly.

"I thought it would do the trick. Well," I added, more brightly than I felt, "at least he did not try to kiss me, this time."

Sesshoumaru-sama's jaw clenched tightly, but the demon said nothing.

"What would you have done if he did?" I asked, more out of boredom than sheer curiosity, as we set off along the snowy path. I highly doubted he would dignify me with an answer, anyway.

Imagine my astonishment when he did.

Leaving out no details. No matter how morbid they were.

Silently thanking my strong stomach - and my experience as a sword-dancer - I raised an eyebrow. "Is that even physically possible?"

"Impossible does not exist in my vocabulary," Sesshoumaru-sama remarked smoothly, without so much as a glance at me.

"I guess being your impossible self is enough for anyone in a lifetime."

"If it was enough, you'd not be traveling with me."

"Point taken."

We walked in companionable silence, wrapped in our own thoughts. I didn't ask what it was that preoccupied him. After twelve years by his side, I knew better.

The sun caught in his white hair, making it shine like thousands sparks of dazzling light. Dazzling. Just like he was.

"I was serious, you know," I said after a moment, still gazing pensively at his fair, gleaming mane.

"What make you think I wasn't ?" he replied pointedly, his voice at its silkiest.

Youkais.

Youkai: demon

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