Rin is still Rin...
Disclaimer: FB belongs to Natsuki Takaya, and anything else you recognize doesn't belong to me, either.
Chapter 33
Not wishing to jinx Khisa's emotional convalescence, Nirathe decided to let Khisa stay at Shehure's house with Lhoru for a little while longer. Khisa would return to school in a week. Not that Nirathe relished the idea of Khisa returning to the classroom of the teacher who didn't lift a finger to help her. And when Khisa returned to school, she'd also be returning to live with Nirathe in their house inside the Shoma estate. Much too near Asheno for Nirathe's comfort.
But she had to admit she was proud of how well Khisa was rallying. Yesterday, she'd asked Khisa if she wanted to transfer to another class with a different teacher. Khisa looked at her feet for a minute, then raised her head.
"No, Momma," she said, "I…I should try to deal w-with my problems and not just run away from them. T-they expect me to run away…" Khisa said nothing more; she was still reacquainting herself with the ability to speak.
Nirathe could never thank Lhoru enough. The girl was a walking wonder. Rarely did one meet a human with as much natural compassion as she possessed. To be perfectly honest, Huki deserved almost as much credit for helping Khisa. He had said he'd walk Khisa to school the day she returned; he could afford to be tardy one day.
However, Huki's kindness was merely more evidence of Lhoru's awesome powers. As she mixed the dough for Khisa's favorite cookies, she rehashed the stories she'd heard about Huki's youth in the main house. She had seen the rat only from a distance, and at the family gatherings. Two years ago, Huki struck one as depressed and potentially suicidal; he was completely silent, withdrawn, and concerned only with his own problems. Now he looked after her daughter and had started to develop new friendships at school, if she remembered Nharu's words correctly. Lhoru had that effect on every Dzuni she encountered—her goodness spread in a contagious manner. Apparently even the cat, the most hated member of the Dzuni, was out socializing, or so Nirathe had had other Shoma relatives on the "inside" tell her.
Nirathe poured the thick dough onto the flat pan, forming three rows of five perfect circles. She sighed, and placed the pan into the oven. Of course, she had deep reservations about Lhoru's future with the Shomas. Their volatile family head couldn't possibly stand her for much longer. Personally, Nirathe was surprised Lhoru had lasted this long.
"Ms. Shoma?" called a familiar voice from the front doorway.
"Hiro!" Nirathe snapped out of her reverie, and walked to the living room. "Hiro, come inside, and close that door! You've been out in the cold long enough!"
"I'm fine," smiled the twelve-year-old boy politely. Shoma Hiro was the sheep of the Dzuni. His distinctive features included wide-set, skeptical dark brown eyes, and chestnut hair. He came up to Nirathe's shoulder—he wouldn't hit his growth spurt for a year or two more.
"And didn't I tell you to call me Nirathe?" gently chided Nirathe as she took the boy's coat. Hiro followed Nirathe into the kitchen. "How is your mother, Hiro?" Parents who truly accepted and loved their Dzuni children were a rarity, and quite often lonely within the family because they had very few people to share their worries and difficulties with. Nirathe had befriended the monkey's mother, Khagura's mother and two overprotective older sisters, and, despite the age gap, Shehure and Haru's parents. A pitifully short list, considering the Shoma family's sheer size. Merila Horu, the mother of Hiro, became her best friend because they were the same age, had children practically the same age, and Horu had a wonderful personality. When Hiro was born and Horu found out he was the sheep, she burst out saying, "Oh, good! I love sheep! They're such smart animals, growing all that wool to stay warm in this icy place!" Perhaps she was not the brightest person, but her son made up for that.
Hiro rolled his eyes. "Mother nearly killed herself this morning," he sighed exasperatedly, "she wasn't looking and tripped on a book she'd dropped at the top of the stairs the night before! Naturally, she almost fell down the stairs, but I grabbed her just in time. I tell her again and again to be careful, but she does not listen. After I pulled her back, she laughed at herself for being so clumsy! Silly woman, she could have been seriously hurt."
Nirathe smiled to herself. Yes, good thing Horu had her beloved sheep to watch over her. Horu was not the most graceful or practical of women. "I'm glad Horu survived, and please let her know I'm coming for dinner tonight like we planned."
"I will," nodded Hiro, "although dates with you or me are the only ones she ever remembers. But I'll remind her anyway. Are you cooking something? It smells good in here."
"I'm making Khisa's favorite cookies, chocolate chips."
The boy jumped to attention at the sound of Khisa's name. "How is Khisa?"
"She's fine. She's talking more and more every day." Even though her back was turned to Hiro, Nirathe could picture clearly in her mind the expression on his face: eager to know, yet extremely guarded still.
"Those men are not bothering her?" Hiro asked sternly. He meant Shehure, Huki and Lhadoman.
"Oh, no, they've been very nice to her, especially Huki." Since Khisa ran away, Hiro came to Nirathe's house every day to ask after her. Before she lost her voice, Khisa and Hiro played together all the time, and Hiro protected her at school. However, after seeing Khisa in the hospital, Hiro started speaking to her less often and avoiding her. Who could blame the poor boy, thought Nirathe, rinsing off the mixing bowl, after what Asheno did to Khisa. Both Nirathe and Horu told Hiro over and over again that what happened was not his fault, but it seemed futile so far. Sadly, Hiro's frequent visits to get Khisa updates belied how much he missed her. While checking the cookies, Nirathe saw a golden opportunity.
"Hiro," Nirathe said briskly, standing up and facing the sheep, "I'll be taking these cookies over to Khisa in a half hour. Why don't you come with me? I know Khisa would love to see you; it's been such a long time and she misses you terribly."
All right, so she heaped the guilt on a little heavily, but Nirathe felt no compunctions just this one time. The sheep's mouth worked for a minute, searching for an answer. Really, Nirathe's statement had been more of an order than a question. She was right—he hadn't seen Khisa in days, and he was also curious about Lhoru.
"I'll come," Hiro finally answered.
Much later that night, Shehure and Hathori sat at the cutting table in the middle of the kitchen, catching up on recent events in the family. Dark rings graced the dragon's exhausted face. Even taking patients only within the family was a demanding task for one person. Tonight marked the first real free time Hathori had had in weeks.
"You must sleep more, Hathori," scolded Shehure, "or do you have a night life I, your bosom friend, am unaware of?"
"Don't be silly, and let me drink Lhoru's cocoa in peace," groaned Hathori, rubbing his throbbing temples. For once, Shehure complied and shut up, watching Hathori drink the hot liquid like a dying man. The dog's thoughts wandered to the events of the afternoon, an interesting one indeed.
Khisa's mother Nirathe had arrived about five o' clock bearing delicious cookies, but everybody was surprised to see Hiro. The sheep kept his face completely blank as Huki introduced him to Lhoru.
"Are you a member of the Dzuni, Hiro?" Lhoru asked excitedly.
"How rude, asking such a personal question!" retorted Hiro, narrowing his eyes.
"Hiro!" hissed Huki.
"H-Hiro!" yelled Khisa joyfully, bounding towards her long-absent friend. She caught him in an exuberant hug, which he returned awkwardly. Shehure, watching from the hallway, noted that try as he might, Hiro couldn't keep a look of pleasure from creeping over his face.
Taking his hand, Khisa tugged him into the living room. "Come on, Hiro, we have a lot to catch up on! Lhoru, come with us, Hiro's the sheep and he's also my oldest friend…"
Ah! What was this? Shehure's eyebrows rose as he saw Hiro glare at Lhoru following the two. Naturally, Shehure had to spy on them from a safe distance. He observed with interest as Hiro kept up a stony silence while Khisa praised Lhoru endlessly. Several times Hiro aimed deadly looks at Lhoru, who remained completely oblivious.
Later, Shehure overheard Hiro remark to Lhadoman, "Lhoru is okay, I suppose, but she's not too bright."
"Hey, watch what you say, asshole!" growled Lhadoman. "Just because you're the top in your grade or whatever doesn't give you the right to diss everybody except Khisa!"
"Hmm, using such coarse language around a child like that, Lhadoman, makes me wonder." Hiro shook his head sanctimoniously.
"You little--!" The cat bristled quite visibly.
What fun these children are, thought Shehure, I shall so enjoy watching Lhadoman's and Huki's romances bloom.
"What happened between Hiro and Khisa?" Shehure suddenly asked, furrowing his brows.
"What do you mean?" muttered Hathori.
"Well, it just occurred to me that Hiro's been rather withdrawn from Khisa in recent months."
Hathori opened his eyes more and looked straight at Shehure. "You mean you don't know what Asheno did to Khisa?"
"What Asheno did to Khisa? No, pray enlighten me." The dog leaned closer towards his friend. Both were unaware of a person standing, just out of sight and within full hearing range of their conversation, next to the kitchen doorway.
"Asheno never told you about Khisa? I thought he told you everything."
Shehure laughed drily. "Asheno's aware of how much the inner estate's servants' tongues wag. He probably took it for granted that everyone knew. And besides, I haven't visited him as often the last few months."
The dragon watched Shehure for a few seconds, and took a deep breath. "Well, three months ago, Hiro had the bad luck of coming across Asheno alone, and getting into a conversation with him. Hatharu was there, and he told me afterwards, that's how I know. It was around this time that Khisa's teasing problems were starting," added Hathori as an aside. "Anyway, Asheno began asking Hiro the usual questions, how he was doing in general, how school was, and so forth. Then he asked Hiro the most dangerous question of all."
"Yes?"
"Whether or not Hiro loved Khisa."
Shehure grunted knowingly. "I know where this is going."
"Poor Hiro," Hathori said, a sympathetic look crossing into his jade green eyes. "He must've been too terrified not to answer. Or he didn't know better. Most likely both."
"He told Asheno yes, I presume."
"Right. And shortly afterwards, Asheno threw Khisa against a wall and beat her so badly I had no choice but to keep her in the hospital for three weeks."
"No wonder Hiro started avoiding her then. The massive guilt and fear of your loved one getting hurt again are too much for a twelve-year-old to deal with."
Hathori smiled tragically. He knew exactly what that felt like. The two continued their conversation, unaware of their eavesdropper's soundless departure.
"Hey, Huki, I thought you went to bed!" snapped Lhadoman, about to enter the upstairs bathroom. He had on the patched blue sweat clothes he usually wore to bed. It was more convenient for his early morning workouts.
"What, you have a problem with that?" retorted Huki. The rat walked past Lhadoman without even elbowing the cat.
"Did something happen?" Huki's despondent air worried Lhadoman—only something horrible would prevent Huki from his usual retaliation.
"I heard Hathori and Shehure talking," sighed Huki. "Asheno beat up Khisa really badly three months ago. All because Hiro said he loved her…" He trailed off, and shut his bedroom door behind him. The cat gulped and entered the bathroom quickly.
The slender Huki flopped onto his bed. It occurred to him that he still had his school clothes on, but his leaden body wouldn't lift itself off the bed. He should've remembered. Hathori and Shehure's conversation replayed itself in his mind. He should've remembered the problem with a Dzuni falling in love. All this times Huki had worked up the courage to speak to Lhoru's friend Hanadzima at school, the countless stolen glances at Hanadzima's silky black hair, and admiring from afar her wave attacks on Lhoru's detractors. He and Hanadzima now had fairly long conversations, although always in a group and never alone. And he'd been thinking of asking her out, somewhere where they could be alone, maybe have a nice dinner. Hanadzima seemed to like him and acted interested whenever they talked, which gave Huki heart. She didn't fawn over him like those idiotic fangirls and every other girl in the school. She'd actually taken the time to learn other things about him not available to the fangirls.
All that would come to a crashing end from one of Asheno's fists.
The only light came from his window's soft glow. Since the night was overcast, the moonlight was more muted than usual. A blizzard would hit tomorrow—an end-of-winter blizzard that would sputter quickly once it started, but still made one feel spring was months away.
"Goddammit! I wish I weren't a Dzuni!" hissed Huki, purposely keeping his voice down. Lhoru didn't sleep deeply, and Lhado was probably still awake. Huki desperately wished he were alone in the house, so no one would be around to hear him kick the furniture and throw pillows in his anger.
"Damn, I sound like Lhado, cursing like this," he whispered, hot tears rolling onto his crushed pillow. If he hadn't been born a Dzuni, he wouldn't worry about outsiders learning the secret, making friends, depending on Asheno for money and security, his father might not hate him so much, he wouldn't have been abused by Asheno, wouldn't have to call Asheno his god, Asheno, Asheno.
"Fuck him! Fuck Asheno!" Huki swore into his damp pillow, pounding his head on it several times. Finally, his breathing calmed. As Huki drifted closer to sleep, his thoughts returned to Hanadzima. What a beautiful person, what a fascinating aura. A wonderful idea sprung to Huki's mind—if Asheno tried to attack Hanadzima, she could just zap him with her waves! And as for himself, Huki would not let a miserable, insane tyrant dictate who he could have relationships with. He'd been making progress in getting away from Asheno. How could he backtrack now?
"Besides," he mumbled, sleep overtaking him, "if she uses waves to attack people, she'll probably be okay with my turning into a rat…"
The next day, the promised blizzard lashed at the bay windows as Asheno sat still for his daily examination. Hathori listened to the god's slightly irregular heartbeat, and wished for the millionth time that Asheno would at least install a fan in the room.
"Well, you seem healthy enough," Hathori finally pronounced. "No change, as far as I can tell."
"For now, anyway, right, Hathori?" Asheno smiled sardonically. "After all, I don't have much longer. But you know that perfectly well, my darling doctor."
Setting the stethoscope aside, Hathori mentally winced. "Darling"? Asheno had something up his messy sleeve today.
"I can't help but notice how tired you've been looking lately, Hathori," pouted Asheno. "One might accuse me of not looking after you properly."
The doctor studied Asheno with a noncommittal air, trying to deduce Asheno's real purpose.
"So I have been thinking." Asheno continued after he heard no response from Hathori. "Perhaps hiring an assistant to help take some work off your shoulders?" The frail man smiled diabolically, enjoying the panicked look on the dragon's face. Before Hathori could start protesting, Asheno cut him off.
"I have already found the perfect person, from within the Shoma family, naturally." Asheno raised an hand to brush off any final attempt at refusal from Hathori, who clung to the edge of his seat. Oh, how fun, thought Asheno, Hathori's knuckles are white and his mouth's hanging open in shock. "She should be very useful for clerical work, and maybe you could train her for other work later on. Close your mouth, Hathori, you remind me of a petrified fish. What kind of manners is that to have around your god? Quite beneath a dragon's dignity, even one that transforms into a mere seahorse."
Hathori obeyed, broke eye contact and lowered his head slightly in resignation. The rest of Asheno's words thudded against his ears.
"She is a bit unusual, but she's assured me she'll do the work well. She's nothing like that lazy girl we had last, what's-her-name—ah, yes, I remember now, Hana. Why you became besotted with her, I shall never know, but I disliked her intensely. You should thank me for ending things before she did something horrible to you."
"Why, Asheno?" asked Hathori plaintively. "Why are you doing this to me?"
"Karan—that's the name of the new girl—she'll start next week, after the weekend." Asheno smiled sweetly and stood up, the signal for Hathori to leave. "I thank you for coming today, Hathori."
Hathori gathered his equipment slowly, and began crossing the wide swath of carpet that lay between Asheno's lounge and the door. Halfway, through, Asheno stopped the dragon's departure with an abrupt cough.
"One more thing I forgot to mention," Asheno glanced at the doctor's motionless back, sneering. "I heard that Hana's getting married today. Seems she found someone more to her taste than you. The servants say she's made a very good match. A lawyer this time, apparently. Quite the social climber, isn't she?"
"I'm sure she'll be very happy," murmured Hathori. He resumed a brisk walk, opened the door, and with a final inclination of his head, left without looking at Asheno's face. The doctor walked down the hallway, never slowing his pace and looking straight ahead with a blank stare. He did not even notice his brother, Hatharu, passing by on his way to Asheno's chambers. The silent, wiry bird looked over his shoulder at the dragon's shrinking figure. Hatharu could guess too easily what had just transpired, and he decided to give Ahame a call after attending to Asheno. A close friend would be a good tonic for his heartbroken brother tonight.
"Hathori? Are you here? Hathori?"
"Ha…oo…riii" bounced back from the darkened walls. Night had fallen, its arrival speeded by the clouds left over from the blizzard, which had quickly lost steam during lunchtime.
"Yoo-hoo, Hathori!" Ahame yelled, advancing further into the dragon's house on the estate grounds. "It's me, your most favorite little darling, Ahame!" The snake shook off his heavy fur-lined outer wrapping. More silence greeted him.
"Hmm," grunted Ahame, undoing his multitude of mufflers. He always got stares from more lightly-dressed average Hothans because of his winter getups, but then again, he had no tolerance to cold weather. The snake was becoming concerned now—"favorite little darling" had never failed to get a rise out of Hathori before. Ahame was fairly sure Hathori was indeed home; Hatharu called only a few minutes earlier to inform Ahame about the situation.
Tossing the last of his winter protective gear pell-mell onto Hathori's sofa, Ahame crossed the desolate living room to Hathori's office area. After satisfying himself that it was similarly deserted, Ahame anxiously canvassed the kitchen and bathroom in vain.
"Oh, dear, I do hope he hasn't slit his wrists in a fit of despair," muttered Ahame, rushing up the stairs. "Hathori!" Ahame burst through the doctor's bedroom door.
"Ahame!" Hathori jerked reflexively upwards from his reclining position upon his bed, then lay back with a hand to his chest. A book tumbled to the floor, shocked out of Hathori's hands. A trash can full of candy wrappings rested next to the bed, and a nest of beer bottles held a vigil on the nightstand. "You scared me."
"You're alive, Hari! Thank the gods!" Ahame declared, choking his friend in a neck hug and kissing him on the cheek.
"Get off me, I won't be alive much longer if you keep this up," muttered Hathori, pushing Ahame off.
"I thought you'd slit your wrists!"
"What nonsense are you babbling now?"
A bad sign, Ahame noted, that Hathori was not scolding him nearly as much as usual. His green eyes wandered from Ahame, distracted by inner turmoil. For the first time in months, Hathori wore an ancient t-shirt and a stained pair of jeans.
"Gods, you're dressed like Lhadoman," gasped Asheno, seating himself next to Hathori on the bed. "You are upset!"
"No, I'm fine," insisted Hathori, "I just realized I'd been working too hard and that I should take an afternoon off to relax. As you can see, I've been reading and eating nothing but junk food."
"One of Shehure's romance novels?" Ahame picked up the book. "You really have hit bottom, my dear friend."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Hathori rubbed his forehead in fatigue.
Ahame stared at Hathori hard for a minute. Any other time, Shehure's risqué romance novels would sicken the dragon. Hathori made a point of religiously avoiding them, earning endless ribbing from Shehure. "Hari, I know everything," the snake finally said in a gentle voice, "I got a call from Hatharu about what Asheno said to you."
"Oh." The normally proud dragon's shoulders sank. A tragic sight, to Ahame's golden eyes.
"Cry your troubles out on my shoulders, Hari." Ahame attempted to pull a resisting Hathori into his arms. "It's good for you; you should cry more often, Hari."
"I did that already."
" 'Already?'" An elegant silver eyebrow shot up on the snake's forehead. Hathori was the kind to deny grief. "No need to hold back and martyr yourself."
"No, no, no, I'm not martyring myself," Hathori shook his head and looked Ahame in the eye for the first time. Secretly, Ahame felt relieved that Hathori's eyes actually looked focused. "I've been thinking about the future, Ahame."
Hathori sat up into a cross-legged position and reached for a nondescript shoebox that Ahame hadn't noticed before. "I'm very happy Hana's moved on and found happiness with someone else," whispered Hathori, placing the box in his lap. "Although I will admit it was a shock, hearing she got married." He smiled thinly.
"Of course," nodded Ahame. For once he took pains to still his tongue, and waited for Hathori to continue.
"This box has all my pictures of Hana in it."
"Are you going to throw them out?" asked Ahame incredulously.
"No, but I'll put them in a safe corner."
"Does this mean you're going to start dating again?"
Hathori shook his head. "But I can try to protect the younger ones from Asheno's jealousy. Or at least help them cope with it. They deserve the happiness that evaded me."
"Hari—" Ahame cut himself off. Ever since he'd comforted Hathori after Hana's memories were erased, the snake always Hathori had borne horrendous injustice. To be forced to do that to the woman he loved! And now, it was unfair that Hana had found another person to love, while Hathori was still stuck doctoring their chronically ill family head, who'd begun all the trouble with Hana.
"Huki's in love with someone, isn't he?" Ahame asked. Unbeknownst to the dragon, Ahame understood all too well the fear and heartbreak accompanying many Dzuni relationships.
The sudden change of subject threw Hathori off, but he recovered. "Yes, Haru tells me he likes one of Lhoru's best friends. I forget the girl's name, but apparently she's quite odd."
"Is that so?" was all Ahame said.
The front door downstairs crashed open, banging sharply against the wall. The two friends turned their heads toward the sound.
"Doctor! Please come quick!" a servant yelled. "Rin fell down the storage room stairs! She's hurt really bad!"
An hour earlier, a craving for food hit Asheno as he lay in his bed. Because his health was reasonably good at the moment and his spirits had been buoyed by his successful torture of Hathori, Asheno decided to get his food himself and not bother with the stupid servants. The kitchen wasn't too far from his chambers, so he ought to be able to make it.
Throwing on a winter hekasho for extra warmth, Asheno made his way to the main kitchen, where plenty of pastries and fruit were kept out in easy reach. The servants bowed politely and left hastily when they saw the head enter the kitchen. They knew Asheno didn't like to have anyone except his most trusted servants and certain family members around him. None of the servants, except the Dzunis' personal servants, knew about the family secret.
Asheno considered the selection on the counter before him. Mostly pastries—not too many fruits this time of year. Likely the servants constantly filched the foodgoods at the expense of the family, but Asheno felt too generous at the moment to ponder the possibilities for punishment. He would let it slide, for now.
I ought to exert my control more often, Asheno thought as he bit into a delicious cream roll, just baked for tomorrow morning's breakfast. It would do the Dzuni good to remind them who really loves and respects them.
As he chewed the final bite, Asheno heard a low murmuring to his left. Brushing off crumbs on his hekasho, he followed the sounds. Gradually it became clearer that some people were talking.
Those voices better not belong to idle, lazy servants, thought Asheno as he frowned and assumed a more forceful walk through the annex kitchen. He crossed the cool, dark kitchen into an equally dark and narrow hallway that led to yet another annex. It was mostly a storeroom for pots and pans, but in the darkness Asheno could only make out mysterious hulking black shapes that sometimes reached the ceiling. Asheno had to take great care not to bang into pots, in order not to scare off his quarry. Cursing silently, the head made a mental note to order the servants to reorganize the kitchens when the annual spring cleaning began. He opened one of the two doors, and discovered an entrance to a basement storeroom. Again cursing in frustration, he headed for what must be the right door. The storeroom door gaped, swinging on its hinges.
In his trek through the kitchens, he had doubled back, and the partially open door he now faced led to one of the many small parlors that were often used for waiting visitors. The voices' owners stood inside the parlor, and Asheno recognized them as two of his own Dzuni: Haru and Rin.
Asheno bent closer to the door, and listened through the crack. Haru and Rin weren't visible; they stood to the right, well behind the door. The two were whispering, but the absence of chatter and clanging pans made it very easy to hear. The reason for their meeting quickly became obvious to Asheno, and what he heard made his blood boil.
"Haru, are you sure no one will know we're here?" Rin whispered worriedly.
"It's fine," the cow whispered reassuringly, "the servants are always gone by now and no one's ever in this part of the house this late at night."
"I hate winter," groaned Rin, "it's so much harder to find places to meet outside when the weather's horrible."
"Maybe you wouldn't find it so cold if you put on clothes that covered more of your body."
"Haru!" Rin giggled, then stopped. "Seriously, meeting in here's dangerous. Asheno could walk in on us."
"Yeah, my mom's having a party tonight, or I would've had you come to my house. How about doing that, next time?"
"All right. Call me, and please try to clean up your room! I nearly died seeing your laundry on the floor!"
"I'll try to reform my slovenly ways. I don't want to incur the wrath of my not-so-innocent little unicorn…" Asheno grimaced in disgust. He always hated saccharine talk, and those two were obviously kissing now. So Haru and Rin were dating, and they were doing it behind their god's back! They were avoiding him purposely!
After a few minutes passed, Asheno heard Haru speak.
"Are you going out the front door, Rin? I'll walk you."
"No, Haru. I'll go through the kitchens. It's faster to Khagura's house." Rin lived with Khagura because her own parents had grown too abusive towards her in recent months.
"Be careful, okay, Rin?"
"I will. Bye, I love you!"
"I love you, too!"
Asheno darted to the opposite end of the kitchen, and stood in front of the hallway leading to the other kitchens. He heard a door click as Haru left the parlor. Soft footsteps announced Rin's impending entrance into the small kitchen. Asheno straightened—rage made him taller, stronger.
The door to the parlor opened, flooding the annex with the warm golden light. A tall teenage girl, with fiery black eyes and chest-length hair of matching color, fumbled inside her red handbag and didn't notice her god for a minute. A tight deep scarlet dress and black calf boots displayed her full, athletic figure well. She walked a few steps into the room, still rooting inside her purse. The door began to close slowly, the beam of light diminishing steadily.
"Haru's right." Rin's head shot up at the sound of Asheno's smooth voice, the low, dangerous one that every Dzuni dreaded hearing. Her purse clattered to the floor, forgotten. "That dress really isn't proper for Hothan weather. Might give men ideas, too. The sight of lovely breasts can be quite stimulating."
The door clicked shut. Even though Asheno's eyes hadn't yet readjusted for the darkness, he could hear Rin's frightened breathing. He advanced on her, his hekasho making a rustling sound. The tap of Rin's boots indicated she'd backed against the door.
Asheno stopped when he was close enough to smell the faint, flowery perfume she used.
"Rin, you have a habit of always being right, and tonight is no exception," Asheno said. "You remember? I heard you say quite clearly, 'Asheno could walk in on us,'" he quoted mockingly in a high voice. "Perhaps I didn't technically walk in on you, but I certainly heard everything." He could see Rin's face better now—he had her sweating. Her eyes darted, trying to think of a way out, something appeasing she could say. No, Rin wouldn't escape tonight.
"You little whore!" Rin gasped as Asheno's lightning punch knocked all her wind out, and she collapsed, holding her midsection. Numbly she wondered where Asheno's strength had come from. A viselike grip enclosed her upper arm and Asheno hauled the still gasping girl up, upsetting several pots in the process. He forced Rin against the wall next to the basement door.
"Maybe this will help you understand how I feel when my Dzuni treat me like a senile old man!" He slapped her hard, grabbed her chin and forced her to look straight at him. "I am not deaf, blind, or dumb, bitch!"
Rin screamed as he took her shoulders and shoved her over to the basement door. She tottered on the edge of the topmost stair, and a final push from the huffing Asheno sent Rin hurtling down the stairs. The scream quickly ended as Rin hit her temple. When the thudding noises had ceased, Asheno groaned and cracked his knuckle. He examined his bleeding hand as he walked back through the kitchens.
"I'll have Hathori look at this in the morning," he mumbled, exhausted.