A Day in the Life of Naraku
By Dranxis
Chapter 4: …What Decorating?
Pacing the room with the air of a surveyor, Naraku gave Sesshoumaru an expectant glance.
"Come, Sesshoumaru. What has tied your tongue? Honestly, a little constructive criticism wouldn't hurt me in the least."
Sesshoumaru's eyes shifted. He stared about the room, hoping to find some sort of clue to whatever this addle-brained demon was referring to.
"Naraku… I don't understand what you're talking about," he said, a rasp of strained patience in his voice. Naraku ceased his pacing, eyed Sesshoumaru for a pause.
"Ah, but of course. I forgot to mention what exactly it was I wanted of you. You see, Sesshoumaru, as of late I have become, let us say, dissatisfied with myself. Part of my "reformation" includes a little renovation with my surroundings. Basically Sesshoumaru, I want you to help me with my decorating."
Decorating? What in the… So that's what this is about? wondered Sesshoumaru, flicking his gaze haughtily about the room once more. I suppose I should just go along with this joke until I can be sure that he'll keep my condition a secret. To think… I actually was afraid of this sissy.
"As you can see, Sesshoumaru, I have already made some changes of my own. I ask once more: what do you think of my decorating?"
Blinking, the dog demon gazed about the dark room. It was bare of any furniture of any kind. In fact, realized Sesshoumaru, he had not seen a single chair, bed, couch, decoration, house plant, or wall painting (save the table he had kicked) throughout the entire castle. Raising one thin eyebrow, Sesshoumaru turned to Naraku in mild bewilderment.
"…What decorating?"
Naraku frowned. He swept a robe-clad arm about.
"This decorating, of course. Haven't you noticed that I painted the walls purple?"
A pause as Sesshoumaru seemed to register this comment. His normally contemptuous façade still radiated confusion, and now, a little embarrassment for Naraku it seemed.
"Umm, Naraku… Those walls aren't painted purple. That's the lighting." He nodded sagely, gesturing to the dim light coming from beyond the room.
Naraku said nothing. A slight crease appeared at his forehead. "You know, the lighting. The eerie purple lighting in your castle," persisted Sesshoumaru.
"Sesshoumaru, of course these walls are painted. They're background art."
Flashing him a reproving, "don't-you-dare-break-the-fourth-wall-and-talk-about-this-show's-background-art" glare, Sesshoumaru ignored this comment. He strode about the room, boots clicking impatiently on the floor panels.
"Well, Naraku, if you want to decorate this castle… haven't you thought about getting some furniture?"
Naraku receded a step, eyes widened. His face seemed to say as though this was some novel idea that could never have occurred to him, to get this thing called "furniture." Then, he composed himself, his red eyes looking affronted.
"Of course I have thought of that. That's entirely the point of you coming here, Sesshoumaru: so that I may ask you what style I should decorate this household with."
Sesshoumaru stopped his pacing, turned about to face Naraku.
"Alright, then, whatever. What style are you thinking of?"
Naraku sighed, a childish sigh like that of one who couldn't decide which puppy to adopt.
"Well, there's contemporary… That's rather popular about this neighborhood, I hear. And also, I have a fancy for retro, but I doubt I could find matching curtains. Matching curtains have always been a pet peeve of mine. And antiquated French has always suited my fancy, but nevertheless, I want something my income can support. However, Sesshoumaru, at the same time I would abhor the thought of a "dorm-room décor" look… You know, I may not be the richest lord, but I can most certainly provide myself with a decent interior. And I almost forgot, the psychedelic look of the 70's…"
"Well, I don't know, what's your favorite style?" snapped Sesshoumaru, tiring of Naraku's decorative ruminatings. Naraku massaged his temples, as though frustrated with being made to choose so soon.
"Tell me, Sesshoumaru, what do you think of southern?" he questioned at length, in the tone of one asking advice from a friend. Sesshoumaru swept his mane off the ground in impatient annoyance.
"Does it matter what I think of southern? Really Naraku, do you like southern?"
Naraku grimaced, putting an affronted hand before his face.
"I despise southern," he hissed in an extremely offended tone, eyes narrowing. "It's hideous. Those ugly rawhide rugs, those sloppy cowboy wrangling paintings, those decrepit longhorn skulls mounted on the wall. The clichéd horse statues and so called "hand-made" crafts, the whole half-assed feel to it all… No, I hate southern," he concluded at last, turning his nose up arrogantly.
"…Then why the hell are you asking me about it?" growled Sesshoumaru. Naraku tsk-tsked, shaking his dark-haired head.
"That's the thing you wouldn't understand, Sesshoumaru. Decorating isn't about you think looks good. It's about what your neighbors think looks good. At least, that's what my mother-in-law told me."
"Naraku, can't we just start decorating? I have to like, stand on cliffs and say dramatic monologues and stuff," interrupted Sesshoumaru, his eloquence dropped for the need of the situation. Naraku rolled his eyes, and gave an exaggerated sigh. He turned to face the wall.
"Very well, very well, Sesshoumaru. I wouldn't want to keep you from such an important task. Now, I actually have some furniture with me in storage…. If you'll just come here for a second…"
With a bemused face, Sesshoumaru followed Naraku to the far wall. The half-demon kicked open what looked like a large closet, inside of which were several dark shapes. Naraku moved aside to let Sesshoumaru look therein.
"Well, that's certainly, an, umm, interesting assortment you have there," murmured Sesshoumaru. Inside the closet, a black hardwood chest of drawers sported several grotesque ogre head carvings. Beside it lay a poker table with a broken leg, strewn with forgotten chips. There was a lava lamp, a furry polar bear rug, a wicker rocking chair, and a set of blue sheets without a bed. Satin pillows with cartoony stars and moons lay about the closet, settled next to oriental looking statuettes. Against the far corner, a Felix cat clock ticked, while a potted venus fly trap bared its fangs. The smell of vintage leather and moth-eaten rugs invaded Sesshoumaru's nostrils as he peered in, eying the bizarre mishmash of decorations.
"I found the most wonderful little thrift store," exclaimed Naraku proudly, oblivious to Sesshoumaru's doubtful expression. "I was hoping we could decide a set style for this room first, but I suppose we can do with this. I just need your help arranging."
"…If you insist," drawled Sesshoumaru, who was quite glad that it was not his own castle he was decorating with this crap. With that, Naraku slid in and began to drag out the heavy chest of ogre drawers. Bending back on his heels, he strained, the chest not budging an inch.
"This is where you'll come in handy, Sesshoumaru," he said to the side. "I'll need your pure-demon strength to arrange things around the room."
So now I have to do grunt work? wondered Sesshoumaru huffily. As Naraku moved aside, Sesshoumaru strode forward. He grasped the edge of the fearsome black chest with his one hand and dragged. To his surprise, the chest was quite heavy. What the hell is this tacky piece of shit made of?
"Now, let's see…. Why don't you try moving it over there?" suggested Naraku conversationally, pointing to the far wall. Trying not to show his discomfort, Sesshoumaru turned around and dragged the giant chest behind him. It scraped ear-piercingly against the floor as he trudged across the room, which somehow now seemed endless. Naraku watched composedly as Sesshoumaru finally reached the far wall, dragging it into place.
Naraku stared critically at the placement of the chest. He tapped his foot to the floor, cocking his head and seeming to look at the spot from different angles. Eye twitching, Sesshoumaru waited for almost minutes on end as Naraku stared. Finally, the black-haired demon shook his head.
"Nahhhh… I'm afraid that won't do. We'll just have to move it again. Why don't you try the other wall?"
Sesshoumaru turned his face away as he mouthed a curse. This time, he strode around the chest and pushed it from behind. Instantly the horrible squeal of the chest against the floor commenced, as he heaved it across to the far wall. Barely concealing his panting, Sesshoumaru whipped around and gave Naraku a demanding glare.
"Hmmmm….." Naraku cupped his chin with a hand, squinting at the chest. Once more, he shook his head.
"No. Not that wall. Try the other one."
Once more Sesshoumaru pushed the chest, nearly collapsing as he reached the third wall. And again Naraku was dissatisfied. Without waiting for the command, Sesshoumaru turned toward the last wall. As the dog demon was making the unbelievably exhausting journey across the room, Naraku stopped him.
"There! You can leave it right there. That's perfect."
An odd expression on his face, Sesshoumaru stood back and looked at the chest. It was in the middle of the room, off-center. He eyed Naraku questioningly.
"Are you sure you want the drawers…here?" Even Sesshoumaru knew that drawers were supposed to go against walls, not randomly in the middle of the room. But Naraku seemed perfectly satisfied with the arrangement.
"Ah, the room has such a balanced feel now," sighed the half-demon, a peaceful expression on his face. Sesshoumaru snorted under his breath. That's about as balanced as an elephant on a telephone wire, you idiot.
"Now, why don't we put the clock on top?" suggested Naraku, withdrawing the Felix cat clock from the closet. Sesshoumaru raised an eyebrow, scratching his head with a claw.
"You want that clock… on top of the drawers?" he repeated, trying hard not to laugh. But his companion was perfectly serious, for within the next moment, he had balanced the Felix clock on the giant chest.
"Of course. It'll help the feng-shui," concluded Naraku solemnly, laying the flat cat on its side. The ticking tail waved back and forth through the air. "And while we're at it, why don't we mount my lava lamp on the wall?"
"Felix cat clocks are supposed to go on the walls, not lava lamps. Even I know that," seethed Sesshoumaru. Naraku flicked him a disapproving glare.
"It's my castle we're decorating. I decide what goes where. And we can put the poker table in the corner."
"We can't fit any chairs in the corner."
"Who said anything about chairs? That table's for my venus flytrap and starry pillows."
Sesshoumaru, who was gradually becoming aware that there was no arguing against this maniacal fool, bit his tongue as Naraku dragged out a large rusty horseshoe.
"Why, this'll make a nice wall decoration. Can you put it on the ceiling for me, dear Sesshoumaru?"
Meanwhile…
Muttering to himself, Kohaku crumpled up his paper and chucked it behind him.
"No, that stanza's all wrong. Why can't I write a good opening? My school teacher's says I need a good grabber for my readers… Hmm…."
Kohaku tapped a pencil to his chin. Then, he tentatively wrote a line on a new sheet of paper.
Where-so-ever I go, thou art not there;
Dear sister, whose face I cannot recall
Tis troubling, that thou giveth no care
For the one who is… tall?
"That's all wrong!" he exclaimed, slapping down his pencil. "What rhymes with recall? Umm, stall, fall, crawl, reinstall, all, pall, maul, bawl… What's a sad word? Okay, bawl!"
…For the one who bawls.
"Perfect. Now I need to rhyme with care. Stare, fair, lair, millionaire, air… underwear? No, no, no!" In exasperation he crumpled up his paper once more. "Why am I writing a poem that rhymes anyway? Didn't Kagura say that emo poems never rhyme?"
"Erm, human-boy… If you're busy, could I leave now?" put in Jaken, who tarried by the wall. He rolled the handle of his staff from one hand to the other in a bored manner. "Surely by now m'lord Sesshoumaru has finished his business with your master. He'll be expecting me, Jaken, his faithful servant, any moment now…"
"Yeah, sure, go ahead," dismissed Kohaku with a wave of his hand. Jaken tottered off into the shadows, leaving behind a frenziedly muttering demon-slayer.
Taking care not to trip over his own robes, Jaken descended the stairs.
"Hmm, I wonder where that Rin brat has gotten off to?" he muttered to himself, glancing with round yellow eyes about the passages. "If Naraku dared to a lay a finger on her, why, my Sesshoumaru would cleave him in two… Well, at least that's what he would do, if he cared about her." Vividly he recalled how Sesshoumaru had forgotten the child's name. Actually, m'lord had come here for other reasons… Something about being offended by those peach cupcakes? Now that I think of it, that's not the first time m'lord has reacted to peaches. What could be his secret?
It was such thoughts that filled the toad demon's head as he made his way to the main floor. It's odd, last time he had warned me never to let him be tricked into eating another peach again. If that coward Naraku plans to exploit my master's weakness, it'll be up to I, Jaken, to protect him! Jaken smiled at the thought of Sesshoumaru depending upon him. Sesshoumaru need never fear. His faithful Jaken will torch any peaches that threaten m'lord.
As he shuffled down a corridor, the sound of Naraku's voice descended upon the vassal's pointed ears. Curious, Jaken headed in the direction of the voice, to hear that of his master join it.
"Are we fucking done or what?" Eep, m'lord certainly sounds angry.
"Well, that arrangement over there seems a tad off…" The sound of scraping wood as someone moved furniture across the floor. Then, a rustling of robes as another strode ostentatiously toward it. "Maybe a mite more to the left, Sesshoumaru."
"But you told me to move it to the right." Jaken furrowed his brow. What could his master possibly be doing? Is he taking orders from Naraku?
"Yes, I told you to move it two and a half inches to the right. That's a half-inch off, I'm afraid."
"Well, sorry, but I don't have hyper laser ruler-vision like you," came Sesshoumaru's sharp voice.
"Don't worry. You'll acquire it in time, my boy. Just practice, practice, practice!" returned Naraku assuringly. There was a short scrrrrnchhh as something moved again.
"Look, okay, I moved it. So what was that you were rambling on about the curtains again? You know, there aren't any windows in here."
"Well, of course we need curtains, my dear Sesshoumaru. What would the neighbors think?"
If he hadn't been suffused with anger over his master being so ill-treated, Jaken might have been chuckling. They sound like a married couple!
"…So you're just gonna tack up curtains over the wall?"
"Actually, that's a great idea! I knew I could count on you, Sesshoumaru. But they can't just be any curtains. They have to be matching curtains."
A snarl as Sesshoumaru stomped over to Naraku. "Look, tack them up on your own fricking time. We've finished decorating the room; can I please leave now?"
"That's my cue!" quipped Jaken underneath his breath, making for the door. As he did so, he stepped on a passed-out Kagura, who rolled over and mumbled something about Shesshoumaru and pecan pies. Jaken ignored her, sliding open the door. But only to reveal a scene that would destroy his faith in his master forever.
Ignoring the entrance of his servant, Sesshoumaru argued hotly with an oblivious Naraku. Around them was the most bizarre interior decorating Jaken had ever seen. Several translucent blow-up chairs were lined in a row along one wall, staring across at a parallel line of trash cans. On the walls were badly arranged paintings of dead Russian Czars. In one corner was a quilt-covered, grandma-ish bed, and across from it a table missing one leg. Above, a toy airplane, attached to a string, whirred around in circles. Two donkey piñatas accompanied it, and one enormous horseshoe was centered on the ceiling. Directly beneath it was an ancient, rather cursed looking chest of drawers. A Felix cat clock, vintage bobblehead, and a signature-covered baseball mitt balanced precariously on its top. The entire room smelled horribly of cheap citrus air freshener. Jaken stepped cautiously within, nearly tripping on a rubber hose that snaked across the floor.
"…And if you expect me to decorate the rest of your castle with this shit," hissed Sesshoumaru, a vein popping on his temple, "I'll tear down this place by its very beams, and laugh as all your tacky plastic junk melts in the blaze!"
"Now, now, Sesshoumaru," chided Naraku calmly, waving a finger, "have we forgotten about our little peach problem already?"
"I have!" snapped Sesshoumaru, tilting his head confidently. "I don't care what you tell the others anymore. As though they could ever believe that I, Sesshoumaru, fall prey to such a ridiculous curse…"
"Err, Lord Sesshoumaru?" piped Jaken, fearing his master's wrath, "have you found Rin? Can we leave this hellhole of a castle yet? This miasma's rather bad for my cough…" And he sneezed squeakily into one floppy brown sleeve. Sesshoumaru sneered.
"Come, Jaken. We can leave the girl." He turned toward the opposite wall, and flashed out Toukijin. "Why don't we exit through here? I intended to destroy one of Naraku's walls from the start."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," warned Naraku, though his voice concealed a laugh. "You don't know what's on the other side of that wall."
"And I don't care either," seethed Sesshoumaru impatiently. With that, he pounced forward, the tip of Toukijin swinging forward in an arc of silver. There was a pause, then a drrrrkoooommmm as the wall crashed down, sending wooden splinters showering forward. Sesshoumaru strode through the dust-laden rubble, a smirk on his striped visage.
"Let us not tarry here, Jaken. The night calls."
"B-but, Lord S-Seshoumaruuuuuu! Look!"
"What is it now, Jaken?" he growled, turning his head back to glance at Jaken's outstretched, trembling finger. He followed the line of the vassal's pointing. And there it was.
In Naraku's backyard, there lay a great sprawling tree alight with pink blossoms. Its boughs stretched to the night sky, laden with great, golden-red fruit.
No… it couldn't… it couldn't be….
A peach tree.
"Didn't I tell you!" laughed Naraku uproariously. "Where do you think I got all my peaches from? They don't grow on trees you know… Well, maybe they do!" And he laughed that unbearable laugh of someone who finds hilarity in their own jokes. Turning away, Naraku strode victoriously back into his castle. "Have fun, dear Sesshoumaru! Your secret is as good as known." His tousled black hair glinted for a moment as he headed back into the shadows.
Brought to his knees, Sesshoumaru gaped at the magnificent peach tree. Its branches sifted in the breeze, the scent of their burden carrying liltingly across to him. He breathed deeply… the smell was so sweet…
"Master! Snap out of it!" cried Jaken, dashing over to his master in a flurry. With a swift movement, Sesshoumaru sent Jaken flying across the yard. His eyes glazed over, entranced, the dog demon stood up. And with halting steps he approached the tree, his mouth watering for the peaches he craved.
"Nononono! You mustn't fall prey to the peaches, m'lord! DON'T LISTEN TO THEM! RESIST THEIR TEMPTATION!" Jaken scrambled forward, tugging back futilely on Sesshoumaru's flowing robes. "If you eat those... peaches… who knows what'll happen!"
Once more, Sesshoumaru kicked Jaken aside, his eyes locked on the fruity prize. He lurched forward, licking his chops. Facing the tree, he intoned in a strange voice:
"At last, I have found the fruit of everlasting life, the golden peaches of immortality. Now, I can become a truly powerful demon."
Realizing that something terrible had possessed his master, Jaken leapt forward. He placed himself between Sesshoumaru and the peach tree, trembling as he stared upward.
"I… I won't let you pass, m'lord! I won't let these peaches control you!" he commanded shakily, holding up his staff. Sesshoumaru passed him a glazed stare, then continued to walk forward past him.
I have only one choice left to save Lord Sesshoumaru… I must burn the peach tree!
Jaken whipped around, planting his staff into the ground. "Die, oh temptresses! This is for possessing my master!" he squealed, as one of the staff's heads belched a torrent of flame. But just as the fire began to lick at the pink boughs, Sesshoumaru flew forward and neatly snatched a peach from the flames. Landing softly on the other side, he lifted it to his mouth.
"Lord Sessshoooooooooouuuuumaru!" wailed Jaken, as Sesshoumaru seemed to bite the peach in slow motion. But the instant it touched his lips, Sesshoumaru shuddered and dropped it to the ground. He bent over, face concealed as Jaken watched in wonder.
M'lord… what monster will you become, now that you've eaten the peach? bemoaned Jaken, as Sesshoumaru let out a curdling howl. His frame quavered, as though of water, and he staggered back, clutching his head with two clawed hands. Feverish pantings rasped from his mouth as he collapsed to the ground. The dog demon ground the grass between his fingers in pain, as Jaken stumbled fearfully over. And then, at last, Sesshoumaru's snarling stopped. With his white hair lying messily over his face and back, he froze, face still turned down to the earth. Jaken tried to gaze upon his lord's face.
"Umm… m'lord… are you alright?" he whispered, ready to leap back should Sesshoumaru slash him. But Sesshoumaru remained hunched over the ground. Very slowly, he brushed away a strand of hair from his face.
"Yeth… Jaken," he murmured, almost inaudibly. Jaken blinked, crept closer.
"What was that, Lord?"
"I sthaid…" rumbled Sesshoumaru, getting to his feet, "YETH, JAKEN, I'm alrighth! Can'th you sthee sthath I'm perfithly ALRIGHTH?" Little drops of spittle flicked off his tongue as he lisped away. Jaken's eyes widened to the size of saucers.
Lord Sesshoumaru… what has become of you?
Meanwhile…
Kikyo stared at the letter before her. Absent-mindedly slaying the saimyosho to the side with her priestess powers, she bent forward to pick it up.
"A pink letter… What could that bastard Naraku mean by this?" she muttered to herself, turning it over in her hand. Cautiously, she opened it, and slid out the message. "I must be careful… This is surely some sort of trap. I am his only threat in this world, after all, and human heart or no, he shall slay me at any opportunity."
Dear Kikyo (and I sincerely mean the 'dear')
Of late, I am concerned that you may have had harbored a, say, bad opinion of myself. I intend foremost in this letter to clear this up: that the whole Inu-Yasha betrayal mess was not my fault, for I only wished for your best interests, and saw that this Inu-Yasha half-demon would bring you only grief to this world. I did not intend for you to die, and was sorely grieved when I received the news. But now that you are alive, I wish to meet you once more, and with the express purpose of asking a request. My dear Kikyo, I am currently struggling to broaden my horizons as I shall put it, and I seek the profession of being a chef. Kagura has advised me to turn to you for help, for you may be the only one that can aid me in this task. When you have the time, could you swing round by my castle, and perhaps train me in your ways? I shall reward you with whatever you desire in return.
Love,
Naraku
For a long time, as her soul-stealers wisped above her head, Kikyo stood clutching the letter. Then, she threw it to the ground, face aghast.
"Is he asking me… to give him cooking lessons?" she whispered in wonder. "Is he really that stupid enough to think that I would…" But her face darkened, deep brown eyes shadowed with suspicion. "Of course this must be a trap. Only Naraku would be so clever to lure me with curiosity to his stronghold. He must intend to take advantage of me somehow…" And yet, for all she was worth, Kikyo could not understand why Naraku would use cooking as a pretext for any of his plots. "It certainly does seem rather unlike him. I must investigate. Even if this is trap, this is a development in Naraku's soul I have not foreseen. Perhaps I can use this to my advantage."
A cold, knowing smile crept across her face. "Naraku, I shall come for you, and 'train you in my ways.'"
And then, with her soul-stealers weaving great phantasmic ribbons above her, Kikyo headed for Naraku's castle.
To be continued
Authoress's Notes: So, Sesshoumaru's deadly secret is revealed. But just wait till you see what happens when Inu-Yasha and the others find out… And Kikyo sure does like to talk to herself, doesn't she?