Author: cappie
Title: Shadows Against a Shoji Scren
Genre: romance!/action!/adventure!/mystery!/drama!
Series: Inuyasha
Keywords: Kouga, Miroku, Sango, Shippou, Rin, groups
Disclaimers: I dun own Inuyasha, nor do I own Rumiko-chan, nor do I own much of anything except my BLOOD CD. Ahhh, Takeshi…*faints*
AN: Sorry it too me so long to get this damn ****ing chapter out. It was a mixture of summer classes, being too tired, too busy, too uninspired, and going to famine that wore me out. Hopefully (though I highly doubt it will, because I know what you guys are all waiting for: Sesshoumaru and Kagome! But it ain't gunna happen [at least, not in this chapter], so just read it anyways, or pretend you did, and send reviews. I like reviews…O_O;;) I did not disappoint anyone with this chapter. We have sort of gotten out of our "nobility" mode, and that's because, we are out in the wild's now! But, I try to keep all characters out of OOC territory…
Thanks: to Jon, who beta-read most excellently and did not allow my self esteem to take a nose-dive. Oh, also to Savina, who continues (it's madness, I tell you) to beta-read the past chapters of Shadows.
Anything else? I dun think so. Enjoy…
Shadows Against a Shoji Screen
(chapter 15?)
The Road to Beginnings
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From within the dry and comfortably warm cave, one could dimly hear the sounds of the leaves rustling in the wind coming from the next approaching storm. It was the middle of the monsoon season, and nothing, except well protected areas such as a cave could withstand the rain. The interior was worn, dark, and smooth and smiled vaguely of old leaves.
It was outlandish that Miroku should notice his surroundings at a time like this; at a time when strange and potentially lethal strangers were in his midst. The cave was quiet except for the heavy breathing of Miroku whose eyes glimmered in the weak light of the cave, resonating a dark strength that seemed to lie dormant within him. The rustle of fabric echoed through the dark corridor, and Miroku dimly saw that more people began to enter into the small cramped space. The dreary light of the cave did not offer much to which one could study the strangers who had so suddenly appeared in the doorway, their eyes angry, and their voices mocking. Although Miroku could discern that all were men, he noticed (to his horror) that tails hung freely from their backsides: obviously they were potentially dangerous youkai.
The leader - or what Miroku had presumed was the leader - stepped further into the dim recesses of the cave. His eyes glowed with the appearance of an animal, without limitations; leaning against the wall for support, Miroku shuddered ever so slightly.
"It seems as though we have some visitors," the leader of the pack noted in a gruff voice while crossing his arms, his eyes glinting with amusement.
"What should we do with them?" One of the followers asked, his voice quiet and anxious.
There was a pause, and the three or four behind the leader milled around restlessly.
"We could kill them," the leader began, scratching his chin full of stubble, "Of course; there are other, more painful, possibilities."
The remaining followers gave hoots of enjoyment and cackled to themselves.
"And what about the female, eh?" a man with a particularly flat nose piped up, pointing in the direction of the cave where Sango lay, covered in shadows.
The group began to groan and hoot wildly into the shadows. Obviously, these youkai were gifted with particularly seen eyesight; for the average person would not have even noticed her form. A few of them even began to slowly make their way over to the back of the cave. Miroku, from his spot next to the steaming pot of stew, jumped ahead of the few lecherous men and cast them determined and livid glances.
"She is wounded, and she is mine." Miroku snarled, panicking slightly as he saw all the faces turn angry and defensive. It was highly unlikely that if he took on this pack that he, let alone Sango, would survive.
"You will leave her to me," the boss warned, his voice dangerously low as he stepped closer to Miroku and pushed him irritably aside. The males gave hearty laughs, suggestions prevalent throughout. It was common knowledge of what girls were good for, out here in the countryside; obviously their leader knew this fact all too well.
"I said," Miroku breathed, from his crouched position on the ground, "The girl is mine."
Miroku, standing up slowly, stretched his hands nervously. He had not expected such an encounter in the least, and what weapons they did have were packed carefully away, hidden in the back of the cave. If possible, he could make a running leap towards the sacks, hidden carefully in the shadows; yet, by the time he would manage to find them he would most likely be surrounded and there would be no hope for survival, or at least victory.
'This does not bode well,' Miroku thought drastically, contemplating throwing the boiling stew on them. Yet, what good would that do, but to waste a meal?
Stepping forward, he called tentatively, "If you please, before you kill us, or torture us, or whatever you have planned, could we finish our meal?"
A figure in the back hollered, "What the hell for?"
Trying whatever way possible to avoid death or Sango getting 'taken advantage of', Miroku thought quickly, "It is always so much more pleasant when you can die feeling content rather than hungry."
The men began to talk amongst themselves in hurried and rapid whispers, yet their chief cast an angry scowl and snarled, "Shut the hell up, all of you!" The cave returned to a hushed silence, except the merrily bubbling of the stew. Although most of the men were rough, the leader seemed to be an ever-so-slight breed apart from them. His stance was taller, more dignified, as though he had truly earned their right as being the head of the group. His muscles, although evident, were subtle, unlike those of his counterparts who bulged out from their bodies, anxious to prove their strength to the world. Yet, for the leader at least, the world already knew his strength, so he had nothing to prove.
The leader, now facing them once again, eyed Miroku for a moment. The youkai was about to decide his and Sango's fate, and whatever persona Miroku gave off would tip the scale one way or another.
After a pause, the leader barked, "You won't try anything funny, will you? Because if you do…we will show no mercy, and kill you slowly…"
Flashing a grin, Miroku replied, "I swear, on my honor as an advisor, that we shall not try to escape."
The ring leader grumbled irritably, "Then get to it, already."
Smiling, and bowing, Miroku called to Sango, "Can you come out on your own?"
He could hear her shifting about nervously in the darkness. Obviously, she was astonished by his course of action. Well, Miroku thought, that made two of them.
"I-I think so." She bit back, her voice full of mistrust and fear.
"Well then, in that case…"
Leaning over his pack, he withdrew some shallow bowls along with some died seaweed, onions, miso, and a bit of fish flakes. Motioning for the fortified pack to be seated, Miroku began to chop up the onions and drop them into the steaming brew. The gang was obviously distracted by Sango as she moved slowly into the light. There were a few appreciative whistles and hollers, and very scathing looks from her. Miroku found that he was shaking with anger and indignation regarding their behavior; it was one thing to kill a person, yet it was another to holler in such a fashion.
Closing his eyes, he blocked out the scene.
What was he going to do? What was he going to do….how…
Opening his eyes as a low growl sounded through the cave, he found that one of the men was flushing in embarrassment, "M'stomach." He explained after a moment of glancing about the room from face to face and gulping as the boss scowled at him.
"Ah, I see." Miroku nodded, smiling pleasantly. Opening his mouth, he found that he had been cut off by the quiet and gentle voice of Sango.
"If you wish," she began, her head bent, "You are welcome to the stew. It will need to be thinned out however with water…"
The men eyed their leader for a moment, who after a minute of silent debating with himself, nodded a short and static agreement. One of the men grabbed a leather canteen that hung from his belt and slipped out of the cave into the speckled sunlight of late afternoon.
Shocked by her blatant invitation towards the rough men, Miroku decided that a bit of conversation could do no harm.
"So," he began briskly, stirring the stew as he added a bit of miso, "Who are you gentlemen, dare I ask?"
The leader, casting him an irritable and annoyed glance, ran his hands through his messed black hair and sighed, "Part of the Nishi no oukami pack."
"Oh?" Miroku questioned, trying to find the correct balance of sweetness and interest so as not to upset his guests who were slowly (or perhaps it was just his imagination) warming up to him. "So you are wolf youkai then?"
One of the men from the back spat angrily, "Yeah, you got a problem with that?"
Miroku, shaking his head, insisted, "No, not at all. In fact, my lord, you see I am an advisor, is a hanyou himself."
This news seemed to cause a wave of disturbance through the four men remaining and they spoke in hushed and hurried voices. As usual, the leader yelled at them to be quiet, and instead turned towards Miroku.
"And who might your lord be?" the leader asked abruptly, leaning forward, his dark brown eyes meeting Miroku's for a split second.
Sango coughed slightly, but no one seemed to notice.
Glancing nervously about at the company, Miroku licked his lips, and replied (praying to God that somehow Inuyasha had managed to not make enemies with some wolf pack in the course of his history), "Aa…have you heard of, em, Lord Inuyasha?"
The cave erupted into shouts and yells.
"Lord Inuyasha—,"
"That hanyou—,"
"But how—,"
"God damn it, I—,"
"Did you hear about him and that—,"
"And his human wife—,"
"I hear that—,"
"Quiet!" shouted the leader, standing up, his eyes ablaze as he faced the rest of his pack. "Quiet, all of you!"
The cave fell into a hushed silence, except for the clinking of the ladle against the pot where the stew was brewing.
Sango coughed again, and then, to Miroku's amazement, began to speak, "Yes, Miroku's lord is Inuyasha. However, us two have been separated from his lord and at the moment haven't a clue of where he is."
The cave remained silent. Obviously, this group was more interested in the fact for a moment of time Inuyasha might have been nearby.
"You don't know where he is, you say?" The leader barked, suspicion lighting his now narrowed eyes.
Outside, the sound of nearing footsteps approached; a few moments later the man appeared, calling, "I have the water!"
"Excellent!" replied Miroku, motioning for him to toss the leather canteen in his direction. The sack flew through the air and hit Miroku on the head. A few laughed, a few grunted in indignation.
Rubbing his head with one hand, and pouring the water into the soup with another, he eyed Sango in appreciation as she began to slowly win them over with her soft and gentle voice. If this tribe could be so mesmerized by Sango, then perhaps there was hope after all; hope of their survival. Casting a side-long glance towards the leader, he gulped as he saw him eying Sango with distrust.
"You see," began Sango, sitting up primly, "My late father was a master of killing youkai."
The group shivered involuntarily, and bore their teeth in anger. Yes, this will win their trust surely, Miroku sighed sadly as he stirred the stew in an idle fashion. It was better he did not interrupt.
"However," she added, quickly, "We only kill the weak ones who attack villages without purpose and who kill innocent people. I am sure none of you would stoop so low as to shame your packs name."
The leader snarled angrily, "We do have honor! And we have never attacked a village without purpose, or unless they had denied us food because we were youkai! We are superior to those who ruin the youkai's name!"
The group gave a hearty cheer and slapped him on the back. Miroku was rather touched by their camaraderie.
Sango, who had forgotten her injuries for the time being, nodded and gave a warm smile, "I am glad to hear that. I could tell that you were not the sort to kill innocent humans without reason."
Aa, so they were bluffing, Miroku sighed to himself, embarrassed by his innocence.
"Miroku," Sango continued, motioning to him, "And I are on a journey to find Lady Kagome, Inuyasha's newly wed bride. You see, while Inuyasha was away visiting other nobles, she took it upon herself to visit my home which had been attacked by a warlord."
The wolves exchanged looks that were hard to read. Whether it was trust, fear, or anger, Miroku knew not. He decided not to say anything, and continued to watch the stew, adding a bit of salt.
"She stayed there for some time, but was unfortunately kidnapped." Sango concluded, heaving a great troubled sigh and looking towards the youkai for support.
"Don't you know who kidnapped her?" the leader questioned, leaning forward, now obviously speaking for the group.
"We have an inkling," Miroku whispered, "However, there are two possibilities, and for each…well, their fortresses are both heavily guarded with spells and the like, so that their locations have enchantments to appear invisible, except to those that know the magical art."
The youkai murmured to one another, their eyes flashing to Sango and Miroku's faces, looks of interest and pity and excitement just beginning to be sketched. A chance of hope began to arise in Miroku; if he and Sango could play their cards right, then perhaps these youkai might help them on their quest.
"How do we know you're telling us the truth?" a youkai from the opening questioned, his arms crossed in irritation. Another angry glance from the leader was issued out.
"We…can't." Sango admitted bowing her head, and gingerly touching her wound to see if the bleeding had stopped.
The youkai snorted and turned his back towards the two of them, his face resembling Inuyasha's so very much at the moment. That same stubborn and irritable expression…
The cave was quiet now, each person lost in their own thoughts. Probably, thought Miroku, the youkai were wondering whether or not we can be trusted; whether or not the whole tale was a farce. It does not sound very convincing, even to me.
"Stews ready…" Miroku announced softly as he began to ladle the meal out into shallow wooden bowls. There was plenty for seconds, and perhaps by that course, the youkai would have made up their minds one way or another. Either they would disappear into the night leaving Sango and himself alone bruised and in pain, or else…
By the time the second course had begun the youkai had begun to talk to one another in low hurried whispers. Obviously, Sango and he could not partake in the conversation, so they just pretended to be staring into the bowl of stew—however; their ears were alert in attention, hoping to catch some key phrase words; such as 'help' 'trust' and 'possibilities'.
Yet, by the time the bowls were collected and handed dubiously to Miroku, a decision had yet to be made.
Quite suddenly, the boss stood up, and pointing to Miroku, instructed, "You go wash the dishes."
Blinking in surprise, Miroku nodded and stood up as well. It was better not to argue with this pack, he had learned. He was somewhat startled when leader fell into step behind him. Pausing at the entrance to the cave, Miroku tried to illustrate to Sango that hopefully he would be back "soon". The boss halted as well and warned, "If the girl even so much has a scratch on her when I get back…"
His expression turned fierce and dangerous, and even Miroku had shivers up his spine. This youkai had definitely deserved his title as the leader.
As the two walked out into the dewy night, Miroku noted that the moon had come out and was peaking quite prettily through the pine trees. The stream was still gurgling quietly along, although it was accompanied by the steady rhythm of frogs and crickets. Their footsteps were brisk and light, rustling the grass only slightly.
As they neared the river, the leader, his eyes glowing once again, although full of moonlight this time, began in his low and gruff voice.
"What you say, about Lord Inuyasha…" he began unsteadily, "This is true? You have no idea of his location?"
Nodding solemnly, Miroku found he was suddenly relaxed. Probably, due to the fact that all his lackeys were inside flirting with Sango.
"I was sent to leave to retrieve his wife. By the time I located her whereabouts, both she and Inuyasha had disappeared."
"Do you suspect that they are together?" the leader inquired.
Miroku had to force himself not to laugh. He had to remind himself that not everyone knew of the "unique" relationship between Inuyasha and his spouse.
"Hardly," he chuckled, "You see, both are very spirited, and so this does not make for a harmonious relationship."
It was now the youkai's turn to laugh, and although it was gruff, it was heartfelt, "I know all too well of Inuyasha's temper. We have met numerous times before, and although I am not fond of him…we…," he paused, looking for the correct word, "We share a mutual respect towards one another."
"That is heartening to hear," Miroku admitted, smiling. Such was the case with many people, at least when it came to Inuyasha. Few liked him, but he was respected in the highest esteem by many.
Leaning over the side of stream, Miroku began to scrub at the wooden bowls.
"Do you have any idea about where either of them are?" asked the youkai, his tone serious and inquisitive.
Now it came down to it. Now was the final test. The part that Miroku had been avoiding.
Miroku was well aware that Naraku's twisted methods were beginning to quickly spread. Most village folk knew of the warlord, yet when any dignitaries from the city came to visit, few believed the commoners word. And so, it was that most of the counties knew of Naraku, but those individuals which could throw the most weight around, were subsequently left in the dark about the whole affair. Naraku only allowed himself to be known by those he wished to know. It was for that reason that Naraku had selected Inuyasha. Naraku knew very well and good that the hatred between the two brothers could never be calmed, and so, by dangling the prize of victory and revenge in front of his masters' eyes he had managed to win Inuyasha's allegiance.
This select group of wolf-youkai had probably heard of Naraku, yes, there was no doubt about that. Yet, the real question was: had they managed to avoid Naraku's grasp?
It was for this reason that he had to sound extremely neutral when it came to Naraku—he could not voice his opinion on the dark lord until the youkai had given his own.
"Have you, er—have you heard of a man named Naraku?" Miroku questioned, as causally as he could manage.
Quite suddenly, his hands were flying in the air, his body lifted off the ground and slamming into the back of a particularly large and painful pine tree. Gasping for breath, he found he could take none whatsoever. Staring down in shock and surprise, he found that the youkai's hands were wrapped furiously around his neck in an attempt to strangle him.
"Who sent you?!" he yelled angrily, his eyes now alert and red and shining.
"No…Nobody sen-sent me!" Miroku gasped, trying to unclasp the youkai's terribly strong grip.
"You lie! It was him who sent you wasn't it? Where are other others come to kill us?!" the youkai pressed him harder into the tree and a piece of bark dug painfully into his spine. Miroku was beginning to feel light headed.
"I sw-swear to you, nobody sent me. N-Naraku is our enemy, I—," Miroku coughed, still trying to undue the grip, which to his relief lessened slightly so he could somewhat talk in a coherent manner, "I needed to be s-sure you w-wer-weren't a spy! We th-think Naraku has kidnapped Lady K-Ka-Kagome!"
The youkai's eyes had lessened slightly in their color and had changed into a deep tinted auburn color, but still a great angry frown resided on his face. "Are you sure? Because I can easily rip you apart, you understand that? If I find that my men have died from food poisoning, I shall be sure to rip you, very slowly, mind you, from limb to limb before I myself die."
Struggling now, Miroku implored, "I s-swear on my hope of reincarnation that I am not lying. I swear that Naraku is my enemy!"
He fell. Hard. Onto a collection of stones which had been by the base of the tree. The youkai clapped his hands together and scowled irritably down at him.
"I'm sorry about that. Naraku has been after me and my tribe for some time now. No one can truly be trusted. We must suspect everyone."
Casting a sickly grin in his direction, he hoisted himself up and murmured, "Understandable, understandable." Taking a few great gasps of air, he added, "But please, the girl is already injured. Let us not make it the both of us."
The youkai laughed a bitter laugh, yet one nonetheless. "You understand, you still don't have mine, or my packs full trust."
Bending back down to the stream side, he rubbed his rear absently before continuing with the bowls, "I do understand. You won't have mine for a while either, I suppose, after what you just did."
The youkai flashed a menacing grin, and squatted down to help Miroku with the bowls as well.
"So, you believe Naraku kidnapped Inuyasha's wife. Kagome, was that her name?" The youkai questioned, as he dried the bowls with part of his shirt and stacked them neatly on the bank.
"There is one other possibility," Miroku conceded, "That is that Inuyasha's brother, Lord Sesshoumaru, has stolen her. They have a bloody and violent history, those two, and Sesshoumaru is so desperate to get his father's sword from Inuyasha that he would try everything, you understand."
The youkai let out a low whistle, and admitted, "I have heard much of their past. Something to do with a girl, of some sort. I'll tell you, I would never get myself mixed up in all these damn love triangles that go on between these lords and ladies."
Miroku chuckled, and gazed up at the crescent moon, having reappeared from behind a cloud, "Sometimes," Miroku said quietly, his voice low and serious, "Love in unavoidable, and it is unlucky that two people fall for the same person."
"Or sometimes," the leader laughed, "Three!"
The two chortled for a moment until the leader interrupted quite suddenly, "And would you need help on this little journey of yours? You don't seem to be doing very well, if I say so myself."
"Well," sniffed Miroku in a mocking voice, "Thanks for the encouragement."
"About the only thing you've got going for you are the fact that you can cook and the girl is quite a pretty sight."
Miroku chuckled, and ran his hands through his hair, somewhat come undone through the days events, "Well…I suppose we need all the help we can get. Naraku or Sesshoumaru won't be an easy task alone, and cooking and good looks can only get us so far."
The leader nodded, and fiddled with his tail as he picked out a few burs that had become caught in the fur, "Oh." He added, "And the girl, Sango? She is an exterminator, so I guess she can use that bone monstrosity for something useful."
Pondering, as the two walked back towards the cave, Miroku admitted, "I have yet to see what that thing does. It should be interesting."
Miroku, halting suddenly, turned towards his new-found (if not violent) companion. "Do I have to call you Boss, or do you have a name?"
The youkai turned to him, and smiled, revealing smirking fangs. Running his hand through his unkempt hair, and scratching his ears, he murmured, "Kouga. But Boss is fine with me. Gives you an ego boost like y'wouldn't believe."
*
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The buildings were gray and quiet in the early morning light. Sun had yet to break through the horizon, leaving the city of Kyoto in a hazy wash. The thatched buildings were dark in the shadows, yet strangely illuminated by the glow from the overhead sky. The sky itself was pale in color, a light blue reminiscent of a cold winter dawn. It was dappled here and there with droplets of buttermilk clouds giving some interest to what would have been a plain and rather uninteresting canvas.
Within such a thatched building glowed the light of the candle, casting outlandish and mysterious shadows within the room and out onto the street. Two figures sat within the space where the light was located, each facing one another from across a worn mahogany table.
The first figure was that of a young and pleasant young man, good looking by all accounts, yet emanating the presence of adventure and mischief, evident in the glint of his amber eyes which flashed with green speckles. His hair, a dubious auburn, was unkempt looking; so that it took a great deal of inspection for one to actually realize that a pair of soft and fury ears grew from his scalp. Dressed modestly in a casual wear, his elbows were planted firmly atop the tabletop, resting there as though he was not half awake. In one of his strong hands were grasped a cup of tea, now beginning to cool.
Across from him was a middle aged man with cunning and simple features. His face was traced with weathered wrinkles, yet his overall enthusiasm and movements were that of one young at heart and in step. His hair, a simple cut, was speckled with a mixture of black, gray and white. So well camouflaged were his small black ears that it was possible for this youkai to live a normal life as a human. His eyes were a deep brown, similar to the bark of a pine tree. The middle aged man moved ever so slightly, and motioned towards his partner as he mumbled, "You're tea is getting cold, Shippou."
Shippou, the auburn haired young youkai across from him, cast him an exasperated sidelong glance, but begrudgingly slurped at his tea in a rude manner. After a considerable amount of noise, he sighed in an annoyed voice, "I'm too nervous to be drinking tea. I'm so tired, but I can't sleep. Do you know what I mean, Genbu?"
The grey haired man nodded and smiled, washing at least ten years off his face. "Aa, yes, do I ever."
A slight beam washed over Shippou's face before he buried his head in his arms and let out a long sigh. The light of morning began to peak through the windows of the house.
"She sleeps?" whispered the elderly tanuki youkai.
The younger nodded, and sighed, "Though not for long, I can hear she is beginning to stir."
Genbu chuckled softly and sighed, "Aa, you're hearing is so good, Shippou. I guess such senses are expected of a young kitsune."
Shippou said nothing but instead allowed his eyes to slowly wander about the room.
Outside the sounds of life began to echo through the streets: the whispers of a creaky wheel on a cart, the cackling of ducks off to market, the staggered steps of a drunkard returning home.
From within the room where Genbu and Shippou were comfortably seated, the rustle of cloth and the light sighs of a person rousing from sleep whispered all throughout the den traveling through the shoji screens. Shippou, resting his head on his palm, formed an expression of deep concentration. How had this all come to be? The fact that Rin now slept quietly in his bedroom, the reasons behind his actions to help the girl…
Genbu stood up and mumbled that he was going to make breakfast downstairs and he would call the two when it was ready. Shippou hardly acknowledged him; instead his amber eyes were focused on nothing in particular as the memories of the past few weeks flooded through his head.
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It had all begun….the day that the two of them had met. It had all begun innocently enough, Shippou supposed, remembering as he had helped her find her way back to her residence. In that strange time of forty-five minutes or so, the two had become friends; although at that occasion he knew nothing of her plans or ambitions. No, it was purely innocent. Rin, the country beauty, was lonely and disappointed with the city; he, Shippou, the last of the kitsune-youkai in the Yamanashi and surrounding prefectures, needed a person to which he could confide to. In the end, it had worked out perfectly that the two had met; that the two had become close in such a small amount of time.
After that, through some miracle, they had managed to see each other twice a week. Due to the strict nature of her compounds, he had been forced to develop an alias so he could write freely to her. It was true that her new instructor found all the mail from 'Mouri Tsubaki' rather disturbing, yet, Rin, however innocent, was also cunning to the greatest degree.
Their locations were never the same, in case by some accident they were recognized and reported. Rin had the most to loose, truthfully. Shippou—if accused of some foul deed, could flee the city and return back to the country, despite the onslaught of war that he could discover upon his return. Rin, however, was bound to the house of 'delicacy and refinement'. Although she had briefly admitted that her guardian had sent her there, he had received the distinct feeling that there was more to this back-story of Rin and her life than he had first presumed.
Life had continued on breezily, as had the rains. And for a time, their meetings were beautiful and meaningful, like the dainty flight of the butterfly against the harsh rains of society. Yet, in the third week of the monsoon season, Rin had begun to elaborate on her relationship with her guardian.
He could still remember her hesitant voice as she tried to illustrate the delicate nature between the two.
"He is," She had begun slightly, sipping her tea, "Not related to me by blood whatsoever."
"Oh?" Shippou had asked, leaning across the table, intrigued. Perhaps there was more to his little bird then he had first reckoned.
"In truth," she continued, "My parents were killed."
It was at that time, that moment exactly, that Shippou released the information which would be the catalyst to the series of events that he now had found himself in. "Yes, mine were as well. By a demon named Naraku."
The cup had dropped from her delicate hands and shattered against the pine table. The amber colored liquid dripped off the edges, like tears of a young child.
"N-Naraku?" she whispered, her large eyes wide with fright and fear and apprehension.
He had nodded grimly as he motioned for a waitress to clean up the spilled tea. The tea had distracted him from her response, truthfully; and so it was only until a moment later that he realized that Rin - his pretty song bird - knew of, or at least had heard of the allusive dark lord.
"You know of him? That is, you know of who I speak of?" He had asked suddenly, aghast and shocked and bitter as the memories from his dying past sparked to life once again.
"He is…," She had paused, her eyes moving quickly, as though some great plan or battle was in the making. Rin was a cunning young sparrow. As though she had come to some decision she explained, "You must understand, Shippou, that my guardian is…is a very powerful warlord."
How powerful? He had lazily wondered, finding her story incredulous.
"Have you ever heard of Sesshoumaru-sama?" She questioned innocently, suddenly direct and straight forward like an arrow flying to the target.
Shippou, one of the masters of disguise, especially concerning his emotions, allowed his eyes to open wide in amazement, "Do you mean, Sesshoumaru the lord of the western lands?"
"Why yes," she had answered, "the very one…"
Then how was it that she knew of Naraku? He had, Shippou heard, been trying to keep his power very quiet and dark—Naraku was waiting, waiting for something or something to be unearthed.
"Sesshoumaru-sama is his ally." Rin had answered simply, her eyes filled with fear and apprehension. Could it be, Shippou thought darkly, that Naraku's murderous deeds were unbeknownst to Rin and her guardian? Would it have been possible that rumors of Sesshoumaru's aloof nature had isolated him from information leaking through the great mountains?
It was all entirely feasible.
"His ally? To Naraku?" Shippou had growled, slapping his forehead and motioning to a nearby waitress for some Sake. Would Rin's fate be the same as his? Would she have to suffer in the same way for a second time? Would Rin watch her new guardian be slowly poisoned and brought to their downfall from such a youkai…?
"Please." Rin had whispered, her voice serious, her posture suddenly more erect. "Tell me all you know about Naraku." She had bowed low, her head touching the table, her hands beneath her brow, her neck bare and gleaming.
Shippou had regarded her for a quiet moment. Such an innocent girl was Rin. So innocent was she that she had yet to realize his budding emotions towards her. The tactics and brutalities of war were only words on an ancient scroll. Although her past had been bloody, the world had yet to loose its magic. If he answered her plea, would he be the bearer of the jaded and cruel world that lay beyond her small and unprotected walls?
Yet, he reminded himself, Rin wished to sink into the dark world and withdraw from its venomous pools her guardian who was slowly slipping in, his eyes blind to the reality of Naraku: the one youkai who could bring about the end of an era in a single flick of the wrist.
"I…," he paused. Unsure, yet there was no going back. Life was a one-way thoroughfare.
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So enthralled had the young kitsune been with his memories that when the nearby shoji screen slid open, he jumped back in surprise. Looking up, he found a disheveled Rin smiling down at him in her kind and sweet way. Strands of flyaway hair were escaping from her bun, and although still tired, she was refreshed. Unconsciously, even against his will, he found his cheeks flushed as his eyes roamed her figure.
"Aa-g-good morning, Rin," he stumbled as he beckoned for her to take a seat where Genbu had once been.
She smiled, shook her head, and replied, "Would it be acceptable if I bathed?"
Trying to remain as stoic as utterly possible, Shippou gulped and grinned, "Of course. That is fine. Genbu is downstairs preparing breakfast, though."
Rin waved her hands, as though to suggest that she would not dream of disturbing him (for the bath was located downstairs.)
"It's no trouble at all then, I will just go to the public bath." She decided, as she turned back into the darkened room where she had just slept. Alone. The rustle of fabric was heard and Shippou presumed she was looking through her clothes to decide what she must wear. A few moments later, she pronounced, "I am leaving now, Shippou."
Hoisting himself off the floor, he followed her downstairs, through the collection of pottery and a few scattered treasures. When he arrived at the door, he causally leaned against the frame as she opened it and walked out into the cool crisp air of morning.
"Take care and be safe," Shippou had warned in earnest, waving slowly at her retreating figure.
Pausing before she entered onto the main street, her body illuminated in the first glorious rays of the sun, she bowed low and called, "Thank you, for all this."
Taken aback, Shippou nodded and rubbed behind his head. What was there to be thanking him for? Their future journey was their destiny, which through some strange twist of fate had been momentarily intertwined. There was nothing that she should thank him for, no, nothing at all.
Glancing up, he wondered if she was still there. Yet, she had already merged into the morning hustle and bustle of the market place. Turning to face the dusty interior of Genbu's small and old shop, he felt a twinge of loneliness now that Rin was gone. It was astonishing how much he had begun to depend on his small bird, and when she was not there, the world seemed suddenly all too bleak and unforgiving….
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Closing her eyes, she pushed herself underwater and allowed the great warmth of the liquid to encase her. Even underwater, surrounded by other people, she felt protected, as if nothing could harm her. When submerged, there seemed to be no war, no fear; there was nothing, only the warmth and the water.
Breaking to the surface, she lazily leaned against the cool tile wall and allowed the anxieties and stress that she had been carrying to slowly melt off her heart. Rin knew that in the coming weeks such aliments would return, probably ten fold. At this moment, however, she was at peace; she was in a state of limbo, being nothing and everything at the same time. She felt content with the emptiness and allowed herself to glimpse at her memories, like sun in-between the leaves, casting dappled shadows.
It had been two weeks ago that she had managed to convince Shippou of her plan. Although she had suggested it before, he had refused it almost immediately. It was too dangerous, too foolhardy.
"You will get killed!" he had yelled, his voice strangely full of emotion, "And—And--," he has gasped terribly, as though trying to put a lid on his unsealed emotions, "Neither I, or Sesshoumaru-sama could handle such a loss."
She had been touched, frankly. Rin had never known that his emotions towards her ran that deep. She had always thought of the two of them as friends, even from the very beginning. Of course, like all girls, Rin had wished for something more, something deeper; but if such emotions were not returned, she could be content as friends. At least, this was what she reminded herself day after day.
Before she could allow herself to love, she had to prove herself a strong woman.
Yet, as the weather slowly became finer, and the approaching summer nearing on the horizon, she could not help but feel the anxiety well up in her breast, and the pain and guilt float to the surface. With summer came the inevitable war. Rin had to warn Sesshoumaru, she had to allow her guardian to hear Shippou's information of the dark lord. Whether or not Sesshoumaru's decision wavered, at least he would know the truth about Naraku; at least he could always remain prepared, guarded—and never taken by surprise.
Yet, Shippou had been against traveling back to the countryside. There was war, he insisted, there was death. What the pillaging soldiers did to young girls, Shippou had exclaimed, was something that Rin should never, ever, have to experience if the two of them became separated.
Perhaps she had surprised him with her knowledge about the cruelties of life. Perhaps her wisdom had softened the blow of her request. Perhaps…
Yet now, now she would leave; she would return to her homeland to warn her guardian. Although the road might be difficult (particularly because they were traveling on foot as soon as they reached the deep countryside), Rin knew that in the end she would persevere, even if it cost her life.
She had to continue on. Rin had to grant her life to Sesshoumaru, in return for him saving her own.
Tomorrow…Rin repeated to herself as she wrapped a towel about her body, tomorrow morning would be the day when she would return to her home country to face the truth, with her eyes unclouded.
Bowing quietly as she left the bath house, she returned to the small store that in the past few days had become her second home. The smell of miso soup and cooking rice greeted her nostrils, and opening the sliding door to the entryway, she called out merrily, "I've returned!"
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The gray light of dawn swept quietly through the sleeping city of Kyoto. Even the cats had stopped trotting through the streets. All was quiet.
Or so it seemed.
Two murky shadows appeared, followed by two larger shadows which trotted quickly behind them. They sped on, the four of them, from time to time merging with the form of a building of the shadow of a tree. It continued this way for a half an hour, until they reached the edge of the city where the rolling hills grew more and more sparsely populated. Once they reached the main thoroughfare, known as the Tokaido road, saturated with the shadow of pine trees, the two paused and seemed to exchange a few brief words. The decision was made.
Now only two large shadows existed, galloping down the dusty and lonesome road.
As the two reached the peak of the first hill, the sun broke through the horizon, casting the world in the glow of the faintest yellow. The trees glistened like crystals as the dew sparkled and shone. A slight wind rustled their hair, and so, the two turning to each other flashed hesitant smiles before they urged their horses forward and onward into the wild.
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AN: author's note! Yattta!!
*ahem* anyways, this chapter: As far as Kouga goes, I did not want to "officially" give it away that it was him until the end of the chapter. Although, I a pretty sure you guys all figured it out WAY before then! Anyways, yep, all the characters (except for a few I might create) have entered the story! Rin and Shippou are heading off to warn Sesshoumaru. Inuyasha is being lured by Naraku. Sango and Miroku and Kouga are off to find Kagome, although that might be easier said than done—and what of this war that this whole story is supposed to focus around? Well, don't worry. It will happen sooner or later, I just have to get all the people in the right places and write some more about romance, romance, traveling, betrayal and more catalyst for plot thickening.
Kouga's portrayal: I found him rather hard to write, because most of the time when we see him, him and Inuyasha are all pissed off at one another for some reason. He is sort of dark and quiet in this story, but he is also (as demonstrated) physical and angry. Note: Nishi no oukami technically means wolves of the west.
Rin and Shippou: uhm, yes, their part of the story was weird, because I did not give it to you "play by play", so really, a lot has been left out. However, I will elaborate on it more (eventually).
God, this story just has so many layers that it is hard to remember them all! If you have any questions about plot holes, or the like, please tell me.
Also, as far as pairings are concerned in this story: I'll say it again: Just read and stop asking me!! You will just have to find out! This story is not like my other ones, so, that means the pairings might be different. Or not! Aren't Ijust eviiiiiiiiil? ^^;; he he he…I know, I know, you hate me. You all do.
Read! Review! Make fondue!
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