The Tale of Rin and Sesshomaru
Her Father's Daughter
Just as Sesshomaru had planned, Jaken had survived the battle, both unscathed and unnoticed. By the time he had managed to fight his way out from under the pile of debris and demon corpses, the battle was long over. Jaken knew that Sesshomaru was most often to be found at the head of any swath of destruction, so he slowly picked his way through the wreckage until he found the hillock where Sesshomaru had made his last stand. Indeed, it was very easy to find; in the circle of destruction that lay for miles in every direction, the only living things left in the valley were the grasses and flowers that were so mysteriously untouched on that little rise. Jaken called about for his master, but heard no response. Then, near the top of the hill, he found part of Sesshomaru's kimono, no more than a rag, stuck at the end of a twig and flapping quietly in the breeze.
Jaken was overwhelmed with grief, and, I am sorry to report, was most shameless in giving vent to his sorrow. He cried long and loud, moaning first over his master's departure, then his own unworthiness for being of no assistance in Sesshomaru's hour of need, then his master's nobility and power in his last and greatest battle; then he reprised the litany of his own unworthiness. This went on for far too long, but eventually Jaken reached the end of his lamentations, and pondered what to do next. He had always imagined himself at Sesshomaru's right hand forever (or at least, under Sesshomaru's right foot), and now that his master was gone, he had nowhere to go and nothing to do. Suddenly, the thought struck him: he would, on this very spot, build a shrine befitting Sesshomaru's nobility and greatness. Jaken had visions of a towering edifice to rival the Imperial palace in majesty and beauty. Sadly, he lacked the Imperial resources, or for that matter, even the slightest talent for stonemasonry; and after several hours, the best he had been able to assemble was five rather pitiful piles of stones, upon one of which was placed very reverently the shred of Sesshomaru's kimono.
Truth be told, Jaken did provide a tragically amusing spectacle: a squat little green-skinned demon, earnestly and fustily arranging and rearranging little piles of stones, from time to time crowing over his achievements. Still, it was the height of cruelty when three particularly large, ugly, evil, and stupid demons trod through his little shrine and kicked over his stones.
Furious, Jaken flamed them with his staff; but this only enraged them more. The largest, ugliest, and stupidest of the three grabbed Jaken by the throat and lifted him up so that he could be more easily regarded by the demon's middle eye. "Little toad," the demon growled, "What do you think you're doing here?"
Jaken sputtered, then he responded with as much dignity as he could muster with the demon's hand clutching his throat. "I am preparing a shrine for the noble and mighty Sesshomaru-sama, and you have defiled his grave. Leave at once, or face terrible justice!"
The demons laughed cruelly. "How are YOU going to dispense justice to us?" The demon tossed Jaken from one hand to another, then held him upside down by his feet and shook him. "Here's your terrible justice!" the demon howled with laughter. "In case you haven't noticed, this is the only place for miles around that isn't completely dead, and it's going to be our new home—and you can take your shrine for Sessho-whoever with you to hell!" The demon's grip tightened on Jaken's ankles, and he made ready to swallow Jaken in a single gulp. Oh well, thought Jaken, at least I have regained some honor in defending Sesshomaru-sama's shrine with my last breath.
"Release him."
A clear, cold voice cut through the night like a knife. The startled demons turned to see where the sound had come from; Jaken did his best to do so as well, even if he was being held upside down over a demon's gullet.
On a boulder jutting over the ravine stood a tall and beautiful figure, silhouetted against the rising moon. Its kimono was gleaming white, and its long hair blew in the wind, as did the long white stole at its right shoulder. "Sesshomaru-sama!" Jaken cried with joy, "You've come to save me!" But as the figure drew its sword, he saw it more clearly: the long hair was sable, not white, and it was clearly a woman's form. When he realized who it was, Jaken was beside himself with rage. "Rin, you horrible, ungrateful child! You abandoned Sesshomaru-sama in his hour of need, and now you've stolen his clothes and his sword. What are you playing at, you awful brat?"
The demons also saw that it was a woman who had addressed them, and they doubled over with laughter, nearly dropping Jaken on his head in the process. "Haw, haw, haw! The little girl is playing with a sword! Careful, little girl, you might get hurt!" Two of the demons pretended to fall upon make-believe swords and expire loudly, and they slapped each other on the back and guffawed.
"Put him down, and leave, NOW—or die."
The demons were so busy congratulating themselves on their cleverness that they did not notice that this time it was not one voice, but two that spoke in unison: one, the dark and clear voice of a young woman, the other a menacing baritone that shook the earth like a malevolent organ. The demon holding Jaken continued to chide the distant figure. "Go run home to your daddy, little gi..."
The demon's insult was cut off in mid-word. In the blink of an eye, Rin had crossed the distance between herself and the demon, and had slashed him neatly in half with Toukijin. The edges of the demon where the sword had just cut him burned brightly with a mystical fire that quickly set the rest of the demon's body ablaze, and Jaken felt his scales singe as the demon's flesh, still holding him aloft, sizzled into nothingness in the cold flame. The arm holding him in the air having burned away, Jaken fell, and as he fell he saw Rin flashing by, raising her blade to dispatch the remaining demons. Her speed, and the grip with which she held her sword, he recognized immediately as Sesshomaru's. Likewise, her face was set in Sesshomaru's mask of utter dispassion, cold and implacable as death itself; but her dark eyes burned with a terrible fury that was fully human. This fusion of youkai power and human passion terrified Jaken more than anything he had seen in his many years of serving Sesshomaru, and he shuddered in terror as Rin passed. Then his head hit the ground, and everything went black.
In a few moments, his eyes cleared. Kneeling over him was Rin, no longer transfigured with vengeance, but only her usual sweet, gentle self, her lovely face full only of concern for him. "Jaken-sama, are you all right?"
Jaken sat bolt upright, looking frantically for the demons that had attacked him. "Rin-chan—the demons—are you...?"
Rin laughed. "Oh, don't worry about them. They won't bother us any more. But how are you, dear Jaken-sama?" She gently ran her hands over his head and arms, looking for injuries.
As she looked him over, Jaken touched her stole, and saw her bracelets. "How did you come to have this? And what are these?" Then Jaken looked into her face, and his eyes suddenly narrowed. "Rin-chan," he said sternly, "What is that on your forehead?"
Rin sat bolt upright, and rubbed her hand across her forehead. "My forehead?" she wondered aloud. "I thought I had washed all that stuff off before I left Totosai's." She looked around, and found a small pool of water that had formed in one of the many depressions that had been carved by flying debris, and in it she looked at her reflection.
In the center of her forehead was the sign of the crescent moon. It was a warm and rich indigo, the color of the twilight sky. When she touched it, it glowed faintly.
She took some water from the pool, and tried to rub the mark off, but it was not dirt, blood, paint, or a scar; it was a part of her skin. Then, Rin remembered. "Oh... this." Her hand crept towards her cheek, and she blushed as she recalled her last moments with Sesshomaru. "I guess...Sesshomaru-sama...put it there...right before he..." Her voice trailed off, and her eyes could not meet Jaken's.
Jaken picked himself up, dusted himself off, and straightened his coat; then he pulled himself up to his full height. In his most formal voice, he proclaimed: "Only the noble-born of the dog-youkai clan may bear the crest of the crescent moon. As the son of his high-born mother and the Inu no Taisho, Sesshomaru bore the sign: Inuyasha, the son of a human, did not. Only the most noble and most powerful have ever borne this mark: and now, you bear it." Jaken knelt, then placed his hands formally on the ground. "By the swords that you carry, by the deeds of your hands, and by our lord's sign that he himself has placed upon you," he intoned; then, prostrating himself before her, he proclaimed, "you are the daughter of Sesshomaru. I shall serve you as I have served him."
Rin blushed again, then composed herself and gently helped Jaken to his feet. "Never bow like that to me, Jaken-aniue." And she smiled gently at him. Then, cheerily, she rose. "Come. Let's find some fish, and I'll tell you the whole story."
Jaken gathered his staff, straightened his vest, and again bowed formally. "Where you lead, I shall follow, Rin-sama." And without further speech, they turned and walked away together, on the first of what would become journeys without number.
And so Rin became the mistress of her little band. She continued Sesshomaru's enigmatic business, the details of which she never told a living soul, and which occupied much of her wanderings. Like Sesshomaru, she avoided contact with most creatures, youkai and human alike. While she never shared Sesshomaru's disdain for humans, neither did she feel the need for their companionship. Sesshomaru, Jaken, and Aun were family enough for her, and she was content. If you happened to pass her on the road, she would happily exchange greetings, kind words, or a warm smile. However, her gentle demeanor masked a core of iron; although she killed much less casually than Sesshomaru did, she was not in the least afraid to use deadly force. Her preference was to repel rather than destroy those who would draw a weapon against her, but anyone foolish enough to raise that weapon a second time did not live long enough to attempt its use.
Rin sang less frequently than she did as a girl, but was no less joyful; she laughed less, but she smiled easily and often. She began to appreciate the peace of silent contemplation that Sesshomaru himself had so loved. Her face never grew as hard as Sesshomaru's, but her eyes became so dark and keen that only the truly brave or pure in heart could look her in the face. She did not "travel the world doing good"—she had less than no interest in errantry, and her own affairs were enough for her. However, any who had the strength of heart to bear her soul-piercing gaze and ask for her help would invariably receive it. But for those who preyed upon the innocent and weak, she had neither pity nor mercy.
Jaken had suffered horribly in the service of Sesshomaru, regularly enduring being kicked, trod upon, or (fortunately, only on rare occasions) slashed with swords. By contrast, Rin was always kind to Jaken. She never abused him, but she did gently tease him from time to time, or stick flowers into his hat or (only on rare occasions) behind his ear. She saw that he enjoyed such gentle torment in the service of his mistress; for him, it was a badge of honor.
Sesshomaru was a beloved, respected, and constant presence. Rin was able to wield Sesshomaru's power either with or without his sword, but it was not "demon possession" as you might think of it. It was more, shall we say, a sharing of the soul; but each of them always remained distinct and individual. From time to time she would converse with him, but he was as solitary as a spirit as he was in the flesh, and they respected each other's privacy. He tempered her innocence with wisdom, and protected her from all harm; and she taught him the meaning of joy and compassion. And so, as was fated from the very first day they met, they became each other's salvation.