AN: I'm kinda sad that this one didn't get more. But, as the saying goes, Rome wasn't built in a day. So I'm going to have to count my blessings and hope that I get a few more, but I'm going to stick with this story, I need to try and stretch what I can do, and this is probably the best way. If you've got complaints, state them, but I'm not taking off this story. Thanks for all those who did review, it does help. If there had been no reviews I might have been a little upset. Thanks for the support!!!
Last Time
"And this mission is...?"
"Not for just anyone to know." I growled. He chuckled, "You'll learn soon enough, should you choose to accept."
"If I don't?" A stupid question when asking an illegal alien demon. But one should always ask.
"We'll find someone else to take your place." I frowned again.
"What will happen to me?"
"You'll find yourself in the Rekai instead." I gulped. I had a feeling he wasn't going to bring me through a portal or something. And it didn't take a genius to figure out that he was talking about the Rekai realm. The realm of the dead.
"Then I guess you've found yourself a deal."
This Time
Two hours later I found myself in a huge building all dressed up like some sort of high-class demonness fighter. I had been bathed and scrubbed by two young demon girls who were probably about as powerful as raccoons. They were constantly chattering about stupid things like the males they were interested in and the competitions they were going to compete in. Both seemed pretty decent, but it wasn't long before my headache came back.
When they were gone I was oiled and lotioned and perfumed and all that other stuff. But as it was demon brand the smell was lighter and it's purpose was mainly for the skin. Then I was dressed in about thirty layers of fabric in a fighting outfit that brought out all my best qualities and hid all my flaws. The fabrics were amazingly light and I found myself at just the right temperature. It didn't restrict any movement and I was told later it was fire resistant.
It's amazing what demons will make for a good fight.
After that a stern looking woman with sharp features came in and glared at me. It took her all of two minutes to state all my flaws and start to huff about being stuck with a hopeless case. I growled and picked her up by the neck.
"Do what you were sent to do or get out of here. Your voice is giving me a headache." It was true, if I left out the detail that I'd already had one. She turned bright red and glared again. But the comment served it's purpose. She shut up and started putting on my make-up and styling my hair. I felt a little bad about acting so... well, demon-like, but remembering a specific comment about my ankles steeled my resolve.
I had to remind her several times that I was a fighter. She had to keep things simple and easy to work in. She'd glare at me, but she followed my rules. She eventually pulled my hair back into a braid that went to the small of my back. Several gold, red and white beads were braided in with matching ribbons. A few strands came out to frame my face in the front. They were glossed in this gold gel stuff that kept it from changing shape... I had always wondered why Sesshomaru's hair stayed in absolute perfection for twenty four-seven, but I'd never considered demon hair gel. Huh.
My make-up was simple red eyeliner with gold dust on my eyelids. Golden lips with red lining and two orange stripes on my left cheek. I had to change over to my demonic form for all of it to match, but I wasn't going to do that just because some self-loving, low class, guppy-girl wanted to bring out my demonic side. So in the end my form didn't match my outfit. Looking in the mirror made me feel like some glass doll trying to play one sister while I was meant to be the other. I was really starting to dislike my new boss.
Speak of the devil... Literally, in my current state of mind.
"You look lovely." I turned halfway from the mirror and leveled a glare at him from the side of my still brown eyes.
"I look like a pampered demonness. Well... a pampered hanyo, anyway." He looked me over and sighed.
"You have to try to look the part, Kagome." I snarled.
"Don't call me that," he glared. I realized my mistake, "I'm Kikyo. Kagome is dead. Has been for a while now." He seemed very interested, but as I was still glaring at him, he decided not to push it.
"Well, Kikyo. I believe the two of us are now sufficiently late for dinner."
I now hate dinner. Should gross foods or the descriptions of gross foods repulse you, you might want to skip a few paragraphs. I got there expecting to see some fruit, breads, meat, and maybe some cake and cookies all on crystal platters and in jeweled goblets. I mean, they were obviously rich enough to do that. I didn't really even think twice about it.
That was stupid of me.
The only thing that was like I pictured it would be was the crystal platters and goblets. But in place of the fruit, there were what seemed to be eyes and weird looking cabbage things that were oozing red juice. Bread had different dried flesh. It looked sort of like jerky, except it was jerky I wouldn't give to my cat. The meat was... well... it was meat. But the meat was still red and dripping, and I made out several determinable body parts.
I pretty much lost my appetite. (AN: I made the error of making this a little too gross to edit... if there are flaws in this part I apologize)
"I'll pass." Only then did I notice my boss had disappeared an in his place were two demons on the other side of the table. Both were pristinely dressed and both seemed to have their faces stuck in permanent scowls. That's where the similarities ended. One was thin and tall while the other was short and stocky. One's face was pale and pasty while the other was pink and... sweaty looking... One growled when I entered and the other snorted.
"You cannot 'pass'," the thinner one hissed. His face resembled that of a snake. Sharp nose, small eyes, and a wide, thin lipped mouth. Not to mention the fangs coming out over his bottom lip.
"It is not proper," the other growled. He reminded me of a gopher. I realized I had been wrong when his lips pulled back to reveal buck-teeth the size of matchboxes. I had to painfully swallow a laugh that bubbled up in my throat. He was a beaver demon, "Besides, who would believe a youkai was not hungry? These are all delicacies in the Makai. You'll have to at least learn to try them. You may get lucky and find a house that serves other more simple foods for the less carnivorous demons, but you aren't a plant demon. Or much of anything worthwhile."
"And anyway," The first gave a feral grinned, "Your going to need some food in your stomach when you begin your physical training." I went pale. I had a feeling suddenly that they wouldn't avoid making me into tomorrows... dinner... if I couldn't hold my own.
That was very possibly the worst meal of my life.
Of course, that didn't hold a quarter of what the physical training was like.
I can at least say I liked my physical trainer. He was, amazingly enough, a rebel priest. He'd learned everything because it was tradition in their family for the males to be priests, and the females preiestess's. But having the violent-but-still-hippy-like personality he did, he didn't believe in killing every demon you saw just because... well, just because you saw it. This was the only way he could think of to spite his family. I don't blame him. They disowned him when he told them what he thought of them.
By the way, I didn't know any of this at the time, so our original meeting went a little... different.
The moment I stepped into the training room there was movement in front of me. I ducked just in time, only to find a scythe thing arching down at me from the left. I swear to Kami, the only thought that crossed my head at the moment was 'Why the hell is the reaper here for me?!' I dodged, barely, and managed to catch a glance at my attacker.
Mid-twenties probably, judging by the hair growing on his chin and upper lip and the brown hair pulled into a traditional samurai bun (AN: or whatever that's called). He was wearing a black fighting gi with blue cuffs and sash. Unfortunately, the moment I saw him was cut short when the scythe in his hands came again from my right.
This time I couldn't completely dodge. A paper thin cut appeared on my cheek. The coppery smell of blood was enough to bring the demon in me to full mode. My eyes flashed red and my lips pulled back in a dog-like snarl, eliciting a harsh, grinding growl that would have been enough to scare any normal man to tears. The priestess side of me (currently locked up in a little cage in the back of my mind) took notice of the quickly hidden grin that passed over the mans lips.
It was my turn to charge him. In seconds I had gotten him on the defensive. Launching myself into the air I came down on him from above. Kicking the back of his head I got enough momentum to launch myself into the air again. Landing, I came into a crouching position behind him. Still growling and still bleeding more demonic energy. The man picked himself up and flicked a piece of dust from his left shoulder. He turned and gave me another one of those confusing grins.
"Well. You lasted longer then I thought you would." My face went slack and I stared for a moment.
"You have to be F#!& kidding me!" (AN: the previous content is bleeped for cursing, incase you didn't catch that yet) the man laughed. I looked down and shook my head, pulling my priestess energy back into dominance. Once the painful moment passed I hauled myself up and gave the man a pointed look, "Is it customary for priests and priestess's to treat their kind this way without even a name?" He rolled his eyes.
"Right. We're not all that much the same. I'm not a dark priest," He shook his head and grinned again, "But I will tell you they call me Mathew." Ignoring his name, I examined his earlier statement.
"And you assume I'm a dark priestess because...?" Looking back on it, it was a stupid question. I knew exactly why he thought I did.
"I've never met any light ones who have claws and exceptionally powerful energy and go for illegal demon jobs from an illegal demon industry. Besides, I don't really care which way you work. We're all from the same cloth, you know? Just different sides of it. It's the jobs I don't like." I laughed. He narrowed his eyes.
"My demonic form is actually a part of me, not a curse or some sort of deal that I made. I have my own reasons for the job. " To try to deflect his concentrated gaze, I pointed out another thing about his statement I found a little hypocritical, "Besides, if your so against it why are you working here?" Not lessening his gaze, he replied.
"I have my own reasons for the job." I laughed again and he finally smiled.
"I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I think you're probably my closest option for a kindred spirit in this century." We eventually got back to work. It turns out that he trains purely in the actual fighting. He had been going very, very light on me for the test when I walked in, and he was going to try and get me almost as good as he was. And I just mean my human side.
My worst favorite part was when he disappeared. I mean literally disappeared! As in, there one minute, gone the next. He'd suddenly reappear somewhere and throw different obstacles at me. "You have to be able to fight someone of greater strength!" he'd shout, or, "You can't expect someone to stay in the same style just because it's normal, stupid! Expect the least likely things to be possibilities!"
As the months passed I trained in everything from that first day and more. I learned proper etiquette for the more courtly of fashions. I learned how to talk my way out of tight situations and how to deal with all manner of different species of demon. I learned to pick locks and work my way around rules, magical and not. They had me reading books like 'A Hundred Ways to Kill Someone' by Hauren Chast and 'How to be a Con-Artist for Dummies' by the end of the month. It took me three months of the hardest training in my life to start to be able to see even the blur of movement that was Mathew. The only thing that kept me alive was my daily letters to Kohaku and Shippo. And the music.
I'd found that I liked demon music more then I did human. It was a more relaxed style of rock, made mostly to challenge another's strength by their control over their movements, the magic in the beet, and their focus in their instruments vibrations and energy. The words could inspire humor in a crowd of angry demons with it's violent lyrics that, the gods help me, were starting to grow on me. They spoke often of killing a colleague of theirs for not shutting up, and then getting promoted for taking 'initiative'. Or making their way up the social latter of weak demons. The best part was most of the lyrics I was supposed to learn were girl power song.
I learned to play a demonic instrument I called Shelly. It was something like a guitar (which is why I picked the name, the only guitar I'd ever touched belonged to an American girl who was obsessed with Hojo and offered to let me have it to stay away from him. It was a pretty good offer, but I settled for just touching it on the basis that she was pretty much getting ripped off... but back to the point), but it had two more strings and would actually take your life energy if you couldn't take control of it.
The music it made was far more inspiring then anything I'd heard before. The sound of it mixed with the life vibrations that come with everyone's individual energy. It didn't take a lot for one to fall in love with their instrument. Call me sappy, if you will, but I fell in love with mine a lot sooner then most. And there was an added bonus.
If you suited it, it'd be your familiar. The instruments were actually alive. Having made myself into something of a firewitch, it would make perfect sense for my creature to be the Phoenix it'd turned out it be. It's feathers were bright red and covered a body that was only about as long as my hand, but it's tail and wings stretched all the way to my elbow. The only thing that surprised me was its eyes. They were brown. Just like my human eyes.
The process of changing Shelly was to completely combine my energy with hers. It bound her to me, and made me so that to destroy her would destroy a piece of my soul. It was a way of inspiring loyalty from the master to the servant so that they were not misused. The familiar loves the master by instinct, and does as she is told because it is the one thing in life that brings them joy. They are always with you, and when I'd first seen her innocent little eyes I'd known I wanted it that way. She was the only piece of me I really wanted. She was my innocence, my joy.
She curled up across my back one night as I lay sprawled on my stomach across my comfy feather-bed. It had been five months since I arrived here, and I'd started to wonder if they hadn't already taught me all they know and started again at the beginning, because all of this was familiar. Turning onto my stomach, Shelly maneuvered and pulled herself onto my stomach, where she curled into a ball and fell asleep. Absently stroking her back, I pulled my other hand up to touch the two orange marks on my cheeks. They hadn't faded. Not since they were painted so intricately on my first day here. Everything else washed away with the flow of water or faded with the passing of time. All but those two marks which marked me so much like Sesshomaru.
I hadn't even noticed that my hand had curled into a tight fist and was producing sparks until Shell hissed discontentedly in her sleep. I jerked, startled, and unclasped my fist. The sparks faded and, as was usual , left no marks. I frowned. I could almost feel myself falling into pace with my demonic side. I wasn't quite sure how I felt about it. It was both more power and more weaknesses. More corruption and more innocence. More assistance and more...
My frowned deepened. I was thinking way to much. My palms hurt and my head throbbed. I just needed some shut eye.
I don't know what time I conked out, but when I woke up the sun was already a couple hours worth above the horizon. I dressed and headed toward my etiquette class. It was a short walk and so I walked slowly, not really caring if I angered the pathetic professors. I had gotten very attached to the Makai during my stay here. It wasn't really all that surprising that I already knew most of the plant names and the scents of the different weather. I considered that, should I make it out of this job alive, I'd take the boys over and see what they thought. I smiled and opened the door to the drawing room to wave at my professors who...
...weren't there.
I waited for a moment in the doorway before heading off to the next class. I didn't stop to watch the scenery as I passed this time around, knowing that something had to have happened. So I headed to my next class. It was empty. So was the next. I started to panic as I headed for the next class. My physical training class. I just barely opened the door and peeked inside. Nope, still dark. Nobody's home. I turned to walk resolutely towards my final class before I would track the sorry butt-kissing little mongrels who...
"CRAAAAAAP!" I yelped. The dark form in front of me waited for a moment before stepping out. Blonde Sesshomaru. I really do hate that man. I haven't gotten the chance yet to ask if he's supposed to be some distant grandchild of the taiyoukai.
I growled, "You have a nasty habit of showing up when I least expect you. This doesn't happen on purpose, right?" He twinkled. I'd called him Tinkerbell for a while after I came here, but then changed it to Fluffy in tribute to the merciful killer I had once encountered. It was the best he could get of me, so he settled.
"Of course not, Kikyo-chan," Insert roll of eyes, "It's simply a habit I can't seem to get rid of." Insert raised eyebrow. I'm starting to believe this guy must be some weird cross between Sesshomaru's decedents and those of someone from Miroku's ancestors. That last line was WAY too familiar.
Shaking my head doesn't seem to stop me but, once again I realize, I'm thinking way too much.
"Sure, sure. Where is everybody?" Yoshi, as I'd learned his name to be after a while here, waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.
"I let them all have a day off," I opened my mouth again, but with an ever-expressive twinkle, he cut me off again, "What have you been up to?" I frowned.
"That's-" I mentally scanned my memory for a big word, "-irrelevant and you know it. You gave them a day off for some reason. Care to explain." He smiled politely.
"Not especially."
"Bastard..." He grinned.
"Would you mind joining me for breakfast?" I stuck my tongue out.
"Bite me." He shrugged.
"I'm afraid I have your same aversion to raw meat. But there have been some delicious sandwiches and such prepared.
Some times you just got to go out with as much dignity as you can muster. As my stomach chose that time to speak its protest and I blushed in embarrassment, I realized the only so mentioned 'dignity' I'd be able to get was in excepting. Maybe I could even weasel some information out of him.
We went out to the gardens and sat down at a small lawn-table-and-chairs set that must have been very well kept. I didn't particularly like my host's taste in furniture, but my attention was directed immediately to the food.
We sat, and for lack of a less ironic phrase, dug in. About half way through the meal Yoshi pulled back and wiped his hands and mouth with a napkin. He leaned back and watched me. I knew he knew it made me uncomfortable to be watched while I was eating, and maybe he knew that I knew that he knew it, too. (AN: O.o) So, again with as much dignity as I could muster, I leaned back and, slightly mockingly I will admit, patted my own mouth dry with a napkin. He nodded at the small triumph before pulling a manilla folder out of gods-know-where-because-I-sure-as-heck-don't and set it in front of me.
"I'll assume from our earlier conversation that you already knew there was a reason for today's happenings, so I'll be blunt in my explanation. There is a contract in that folder that you will sign and then get the information on your mission." I glared, he glared back. Yoshi, I may or may not have already mentioned, is the king of mood changes. So I rolled my eyes and opened the folder.
It took me only a few moments to read over the demons-script Shippo had taught me and I looked up at Yoshi for a moment with raised eyebrows. He just watched.
"Is that part that looks almost like marriage vows meant literally?" I leaned forward and scrunched my nose, "I mean like, with wealth or without, dangerous or not, and that other bull crap?" He narrowed his eyes.
"Yes. This form is your oath. Everything you sign for is your promise and your honor, and if you disgrace it we will kill you." I think it might have been this moment that I really and truly realized that I was joining a - if not the - group of mobster demons. I stared blankly at him for a moment and then a moment of blank stares at the form. Repeat and rinse. I almost backed out before I remembered watching Kohaku and an unconscious Shippo in a clearing. 'What have I done?' a little boy's voice whispered in my head.
Screw their threats. Screw their Mafia. This was for the three million (in yen) that would forever keep those two little boys safe. It came to me that maybe I'd gotten soft in the past five months, and I assumed by the confused wave that came over our still there but a little weak link that my face must have taken on the hardened look that came whenever I thought about that day. My heart lurched silently and with a strength that I can assume came from a need for privacy I shut off the link, knowing he'd felt my heart-ache. I glared at him and signed the stupid papers.
My first and biggest mistake in my new life.
AN: For those few of you who actually read this... hehehehe!!! Oh what woe cliffhangers be!
um... okay... on a more formal note... I'm not real proud of this chapter, but I needed some filler info. Oh, andsorry I was late with the update!!! But I gotta go now, so ta!
