Shadows Against A Shoji Screen
Chapter Three: Form Over Substance
The rosy fingers of dawn had quietly slipped over the surrounding mountains, hidden in faded gauzes of gray. Yet, slowly, their peeks were revealed by the soft light of morning. From farms around the area, roosters began to crow, signs of life were beginning once again.
Kagome watched all this, quietly, like a dried sponge; she absorbed all she saw. The large bending river, the flat fertile planes of dark, earthy rice fields, just ready for planting, wide green banks, and off in the distance the heavily forested mountains.
On most mornings, Kagome would awake to the smell of cooking rice and miso soup. Most days the hired young servant, Yuki, would gently awake her, and tell her what the weather conditions were. Whether or not it was hot, rainy, cold; as though Kagome could not discern for herself.
Yet…this was the life of her kind. Such facts of the world needed to be told to her—for the Lady was too busy with other things, such as flower arranging, painting, playing an instrument…she had no time to notice whether she was to wear an extra layer or not.
Today, though, was not like most mornings. Besides the fact that it was the first fine day the land had been blessed with in about a month—this morning her husband, her Lord, would be returning home. There was a momentarilycalm in the late winter storm…and soon it would finish with their lands, and be washed out to sea.
This day would be the first time since their wedding night that she would see him. That next morning, a month ago, she had awoken to the sound of burning leaves out in the garden. It had taken her a moment in which to remember what had happened the night before. The fact that she was married, and in a stranger's house; all of this took a few interminable terrifying seconds. And Kagome could remember, for one chilling moment, she thought that her Lord had actually gone through with the deed—that she was bearing his seed within her now. Then the night's performance had formed, and the thought had been no more. She had remembered.
Earlier today, in the weak light of the morning, Yuki had stepped quietly in, trying to rouse her from sleep. Kagome had remained motionless, her breathing never faltering. She had been left alone, and escaped her Lord's presence.
Yet, in moments Yuki would once again slide open the screens and she would leave her quarters and breakfast for the first time with her husband.
The Lady could not pull her eyes away from the world that surrounded her, this golden color of dawn. Each meadow, each rice field called out to her; they called out for what she once had been, what they hoped she would become.
Now Kagome's eyes fell away from the landscape, and returned to the dim room her back was had been facing.
"Kagome-sama…your…my…" Yuki faltered slightly, unsure of her words.
"My husband has arrived." The elegant lady supplied, standing and gingerly brushing out her kimono.
"My Lady, it is my job to dress you." Yuki mumbled, glancing up at the fully clothed beauty, her large black eyes wide in surprise.
"Yes. I realize that. I also realize that you have many jobs…it was only a little difficult." Kagome replied smoothly, trying to make the servant understand that she could handle the responsibilities of putting on a kimono herself.
"I…I…" it seemed Yuki was at loss for words. Never had she heard of a noble women dressing herself—the thought was absurd.
"I must go meet my Lord," Kagome stated, walking towards the bowed girl.
"Oh! Yes, Inuyasha-sama!" Yuki flushed, having slightly forgotten in her hast. Quickly standing, she walked towards the door and slid open the panel for her mistress.
"Yes…Inuyasha-sama…" the Lady whispered, to only she, it seemed.
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Miroku sipped the tea thoughtfully as he observed his Lord. The white locks were slightly blown by the wind of the night, giving him an untamed and menacing look, his eyes were large and dark, full of anger and frustration, his mouth was pulled down in a deep frown, and even his arms were crossed in irritation. He looked exactly like a child.
"My Lord, your face will freeze like that." Miroku chuckled to his own amusement.
Inuyasha glanced up warily, the last remark completely ignored, "What?"
The advisor shook his head sadly and poured him another cup of tea, and sipped it moodily as his Lord gazed unseeingly out at garden, and the persimmon tree that was in bloom.
"There will be much fruit this year…there is much fertility in the land." Miroku noted as a blossom lazily fell to the ground, where it died with other fallen companions.
"Yes…those farming techniques that Bushudai-san showed us were very useful." Inuyasha agreed, his golden eyes watching as another petal dropped to the still, cold ground.
Inuyasha sighed and closed both eyes while massaging his temples gently. He glanced up at Miroku, and questioned, "Must I be here?"
"Yes." Miroku replied quietly, calmly, meeting his Lord's dangerously golden eyes. "She is your wife. You may not love her, but you have welded together by means of matrimony."
The hanyou grumbled slightly, and nibbled on his lips, "You don't have to give me this lecture."
"I know. Nevertheless, I feel that it is the time to say it. You have not been told." Miroku smirked gently, softly, at his most confused and irritated lord.
"The fact that my most trusted advisor, and friend, also happens to be a pervert, (it) does not make your little speech mean much…" he paused, his eyes momentarily soft, and rather gentle in the growing light of day, "But its not easy to shut you up, once you get started."
Miroku's full lips turned slightly downward, a pained expression upon them, "You have ruined my fun now."
The two remained silent for a moment longer, and Miroku gazed longingly at the steaming containers that held their breakfast. The transparent moisture rose up into the cool morning air, dying almost as soon as it was exposed.
"Come in." Inuyasha barked angrily, folding his arms beneath his robes, his face beginning to turn rather flushed.
To Miroku's astonishment the thick rice paper screen was parted, and there stood his lord's wife. She was still as beautiful as when his lord had first married her. Her dark deep blue eyes were still large and luminous, her elegant nose was not turned up with an air of indifference, her lips still full and filled with color, still plump…ripe…
"Good morning Miroku-san…" she replied kindly, graciously, her lips turning upwards to form a smile. A smile that did not touch her eyes.
This having been the first he had heard her utter even a word, the rich comforting quality in her voice surprised him. It was not a nasal soprano that most women uttered; nor was it deep and masculine. It was natural, watery, and filled with an innate grace.
It took Miroku a moment to respond, not even aware that the wife knew his name.
"Good morning."
The female had seated herself across from Inuyasha, a polished mahogany table the only barrier. Kagome's robes were spread about her, and now her hands were together in a gesture of prayer.
"Itadakimasu."
There was an echo of the word, and then the deep blue eyes opened once again, the slight smile resting on her lips, as she picked up her rice bowel in one hand, with chopsticks in the other.
Observing Inuyasha, Miroku found that he was just as startled by his wife's friendly, smooth quality, as though the two had been eating together everyday for years.
"Good morning, Inuyasha-sama." His mistress greeted softly, her eyes studying his face momentarily.
And once again, Miroku was stuck by the fact that this girl had only seen her husband once; which was on the night of the wedding. The next day, they had set off to ensure that each province under his watch was properly prepared for the rice planting season. This task alone had taken a month…and it was always vital that his master returned to his quarters every 29 days. In summer, or in battle, this had always proven inconvenient as well as highly dangerous. His lord's half brother was aware of the fact that his brother turned human on the night of the new moon—and often, this was when his most brutal and ruthless attacks took place.
Did the Lady know of his transformation? Had this been previously told? Reminding himself mentally, he promised to have a word with her today.
Miroku's thoughts were interrupted by Kagome's voice once again, "How long do you expect to stay?"
"We expect—," Miroku began.
"We expect to stay for the night." Inuyasha answered firmly, and then sticking a bit of rice in his mouth, he chewed angrily. His action was his way of ending all conversation directed towards him.
"Oh? Only a night? I see…" his wife echoed, her eyes downcast, gazing at the teapot.
Kagome told herself, it was not as if she wanted him to stay. It was that she became lonely…if only she was allowed outside the castle grounds. She would go crazy if she could not get outside of these stone walls which surrounded her through all her days and long dark nights.
"There is something I have been meaning to ask you." Kagome found herself beginning.
All were aware of the silence that followed. It was obvious that a woman such as herself was not expected to talk much. It was a thick, deep, tense silence…a silence one could cut with a knife.
"What?" Inuyasha barked irritably, "You certainly talk a lot, don't you."
"I can't really help that…the servants are busy with their duties, and I have none to fulfill." Kagome said heatedly, placing down her bowl and utensils.
"Is this what you wanted to do? Complain?" His voice was rising as well. He too had placed down the bowl. His eyes were sparking dangerously. "You want to be a servant?"
"No. I wanted permission to go outside the grounds." Kagome's voice was gentler now, quiet, calm, more subdued? Perhaps the fierceness of his counterattack had overwhelmed her soul.
"Are you crazy?"
Miroku had to agree the request was unheard of. Of course, it was known that this girl was unheard of.
"No. I am not crazy, though I soon will be if I can't get out."
The lady's eyes, once the color of a deep depthless lake, had gone icy and cold.
"What do you mean by that?"
Inuyasha's temper rose, his claws becoming clenched fists.
"I mean…that if I cannot leave the grounds that when guests come to visit they shall find a very different version of myself—if one at all. It's fine for you, because you are male, you are a hanyou—," she was cut off by the sweeping away of food by a clawed hand, and a loud, feral snarl of, "How dare you."
Once again, there was a deep, dark silence. The sound of liquid trickling, and being absorbed into the tatami mats seemed magnified.
And yet, Kagome continued, despite the fact that her clothes were now stained with broth and seaweed,
"Its fine for you, you can go traipsing about the country, because you are a Lord. You protect the people. I, on the other hand, am allowed no freedom whatsoever!"
There was a long silence. One could hear the blossoms falling from the tree. A shadow had distorted Inuyasha's features, and he spat, his voice choked by anger, "Get out."
The shuffling of now stained silk was heard, and the rough sound of the shoji screens being slid open, then closed with a crash.
All was quiet.
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The deep fog clung bitterly to the mountainside, refusing to release its watery grip. The mountainside lake was barely visible, and the only detection of its existence was the calm, rhythmic lapping of shallow waves against the pebbly shore. The misted pine trees seemed to enjoy the cool and mild weather, and their deep rich uplifting scent wafted about the mountainside retreat in the cool hour of mid afternoon.
Sesshoumaru, from within his chamber, sat calmly, inscribing a letter.
Dipping the brush to refresh it with deep murky ink, the door slid open, and Jaken appeared, his face disturbed, and troubled.
"Sesshoumaru-sama…"
His voice was distraught as well.
"What is it?" The silver haired youkai questioned, his eyes never leaving his desk, as he contemplated a certain stroke on the parchment.
Sesshoumaru reasoned that most of the time Jaken was distraught about something or other. Particularly as of late. Ever since he had found the human girl in the woods. The girl had energy in her, to say the least, and the fact that she was living in a house contaminated with lesser youkai and even a few hanyou was…encouraging. This girl, Rin, as he called her, had taken to Jaken—and it was almost amusing, their relationship. Jaken was always bounding into his room, begging, pleading, to send the girl away.
If for any reason, he enjoyed having her here, at least during the winter months, for pleasure. Yet, winter was now quickly fading into the horizon, and the new era of spring was emerging. And this human's place in the house would have to be quickly decided upon.
"It is—," Jaken seemed out of breath, his scaly face pouring down moisture, as though he had run uphill for some miles at least. "—It is Naraku-sama—he had arrived earlier than thought. He is at the base of the mountain as I speak!"
Smooth fingers, tapering off into raiser sharp claws, quickly set down the brush, and rolled the now finished parchment.
"Have you alerted the staff?" Sesshoumaru asked indifferently, his eyes wandering out to the foggy day just outside the open porch screen.
"I—I—you are the first to know, Sesshoumaru-sama." Jaken fumbled nervously, now acutely aware of the mistake he had made.
"Alert the staff to prepare a room for Naraku. Preferably in the west wing…" he paused, his mouth now forming a thin line, "And tell Rin to return to her room until I call for her. I do not know how this Naraku reacts to human girls."
Jaken bowed, slightly stumbling in his haste, his wrinkled face forming an expression of contempt towards the girl.
"When he arrives, have someone escort him to the tea house…with beverages." Sesshoumaru added, then, turning swiftly on his heal, he departed opposite from Jaken, towards the direction of the lake.
It had turned cold and dark as soon as he had set foot onto the grounds. The fog hugged the mountainsides, and the forest was utterly devoid of noises.
"E-Excuse me…" Jaken began nervously, gesturing for him to follow.
The garments that this visitor wore were strange, even by his standards. It was not often, if ever, that someone walked about cloaked in albino baboon skins. The scent of this visitor was bizarre—although close to rotting flesh, it was a mixture of earthy fragrances, such as elderberry, pines—and then, strange of all, if his demon nose deceived him, there were scents of feathers, wind, and snow. Even the way he moved was unearthly, as though he wad gliding along, as does a snake or centipede.
When the great pagoda came into view, Jaken breathed a sigh of relief, and quickened his step.
The pagoda was situated at the edge of a great pine forest, so close that overhanging bows sheltered the blue tiled roofs. Like an island, however, the pagoda resided at the shallow edge of the lake, built upon many layers of earth, and stone, combined with mortar and cement—the structure was nearly indestructible.
The pagoda was very simple in design as well. There were no walls whatsoever, instead great pillars, in which one could lean against and contemplate the view of the lake and heavens. In the center of this eight-sided configuration, almost Chinese in design, was a rounded indent, where fires burned when tea or other beverages were desired on the particularly cool evenings.
The beverages, it seemed, had arrived, consisting of a handsome Sake container (in which steaming Sake had been poured), and smooth shallow ceramic cups.
"Leave now, Jaken." Sesshoumaru commanded firmly, his eyes cold, unreadable—their power obvious. It swam quietly to the top, where it stayed for some time, until finally the expression was one of utter authority. An expression that no one could dare to cross.
"Yes, Sesshoumaru-sama."
Of his dealings after, Jaken knew not of. What was said, discussed—never would he know.
From across the desolate expanse of fog and trees, two deep masculine voices, ebbed and flew across the plane. Their figures were regal, beautiful—and like the blade of a double edged sword, extremely dangerous. These two men, these two demons, would, like the light of a midsummer's eve, draw one to their sides, so deep and so close, that when one realized that they were ensnared, they could not easily be released from their presence.
"It is a great honor to meet you." The visitor replied, bowing deeply, the albino baboon skins falling away, revealing the man beneath them. His eyes were dark, abnormally so, as though there were no depths in these pools. No reflections. No life. His full lips, the color of flesh, formed a sly smile, and his twisted locks fell about his face, contrasting with the intricate, yet subdue colors, of his garments that wrapped seductively around his toned frame.
"I have heard much of your dealings in the Yamanashi prefecture, and how it was so easily won," Sesshoumaru replied warily, eyeing the man who had now seated himself onto a silk cushion, reclining at ease. "I hope the same will not happen here."
"Of course not. It is Inuyasha's land that will fall. Those prefectures, and what they guard, are only what I desire." Naraku replied graciously, meeting Sesshoumaru's golden eyes, which were watching him in veiled apprehension.
Sesshoumaru poured himself a saucer of heated Sake, and brought the heavy brew to his lips, his eyes never leaving Naraku's own.
"What do you want from Inuyasha? He is powerful, you realize. Your goal must be worthwhile for you to succeed. You must be strong to succeed." Sesshoumaru questioned roughly, his mouth slightly turned down.
The figure opposite the silver haired youkai smirked testily once again, his dark eyes again meeting Sesshoumaru's own. There was mocking and contempt which rested in these blank pools.
"I do not seek his sword and scabbard, if that is what you mean." Naraku grinned, his white teeth flashing against his deep lips. A chuckle rose from his throat again, "I would not dare desire that. Truthfully, that sword means nothing to me…"
He paused, his eyes scanning the vista that did not extend far across the lake. The world was white, secluded, and calm. It was only the two of them, hidden beneath the bows of a pine tree, floating on the surface of the lake.
"No," Naraku breathed, sipping a bit of Sake he had poured, "What I desire is of no importance at the moment. It is dormant—and for some, an object that is cast to the side. Even as I speak, they are sewing the seeds for their destruction. Your brother is predictable in every action—his hanyou ways have blinded his scenes. But, if you, Sesshoumaru of the western lands, are to join me, I must have your word that when the time comes for me to reap my end…you will not stand in my way…"
Naraku's eyes had once again met his own, the same ironic and mocking expression lurking, and prowling.
This man was dangerous, Sesshoumaru thought bitterly, perhaps even more so than he was. It was only the sword and the scabbard that Sesshoumaru wished to possess, wished to call his own; as it should have rightfully been done from the time of his father's death. Yet, this Naraku lusted after blood, and the killing of innocent lives. Had he, Sesshoumaru, grown so desperate?
"What is your end?" the youkai questioned slowly. "What do you desire?"
Naraku's long and shapely finger ran beneath his lip, his eyes lazy and lucid as they gazed down into the milky water beneath.
"Truthfully, I desire a girl, and only that."
Perhaps this man was not as dangerous as he had originally thought…for a man who would risk his life, the life of his men—for a mere girl? That was ludicrous.
"Would this girl be Higurashi Kagome, Inuyasha's bride?" Sesshoumaru quipped, amusedly, his eyebrows rising ever so slightly?
"It really…" Naraku breathed, once again smirking in mischief, "Should not be too difficult. Those fools will not catch on until the end…and even then, they cannot succeed. Inuyasha, as we both know, is stubborn, and will not ally himself with his bitch. This is his downfall. If they have no mutual feelings of admiration, then winning her over will be too easy, in and of itself."
This man…this thing…he was right. He was cunning, ruthlessly so…
"And, in addition, she is a noble lady, not trained for combat…she will quickly fall…"
Adding smoothly, though raising no alarm, Sesshoumaru inquired, "I have heard she is spirited…"
Another terrible, shuddering laugh.
"Oh? Yes, I have heard that as well…but I do not believe she is spirited enough to stand up to these…" Naraku raised his elegant hand, where long dangerously sharp claws glinted in the filtered light of the sun.
Sesshoumaru admitted he far from trusted him—but the fact remained that this temporary alliance would grant each their desire, swiftly and brutally. It was what he had been waiting for.
"I believe we see eye to eye." Sesshoumaru affirmed, nodding slightly.
He could feel the blood coursing throughout his body; with each passing second he would be closer to obtaining what was rightfully his.
Taking a scroll of parchment, placed by his side, he unwound it, and offered a brush to Naraku.
The two walked back to the grounds, no longer enemies, and far from friends; yet they were determined by their desires, and this had momentarily, if tragically, bound them together.
When the sun set that night, the plans to bring the downfall of one lord began.