Mizoshi drummed her fingertips against the straw pallet, waiting for her brother to appear. The hut was utterly quiet, and the damp chill was growing worse. She had quickly taken to wrapping a blanket around herself in an effort to keep warm.

It's nearly been two hours…

Outside, the sun was sinking closer to the horizon. It was that last hour of late afternoon.

This is maddening. Where is he?

Glancing through her paintings once again, a shadow darkened the already glum interior of the ramshackle structure. She looked up to see her brother grinning.

"Patience has provided me with a bounty. Look what I've caught."

To illustrate his point, Ken held up two shiny, dangling items. They were fish. Two salmon.

Obviously, I was wrong about Ken's gamesmanship.

"I already pulled out the bones and the other innards," he added with a grimace. "But, will you not cook them, sister?"

"Of course." Mizoshi sprung to her feet; aching for something to do.

It wasn't long until the pale pink meat was steaming and in their waiting hands. On their sleeping pallets, she and her brother ate comfortably together.

This is a change. I'm having dinner. With a member of my family. Never did I think I would see the day.

"The fish is good, sister." He gnawed at the cooked creature hungrily.

She swallowed. "Yes. Thank you. I cooked it the way mother…" Hastily, she let her words waft away with the steaming salmon. She hadn't meant to bring up any painful topics.

Ken shook his head. "Yes. Mother was the best cook in the village. A pity none could appreciate it."

"Ken…" Mizoshi fidgeted helplessly.

"I cannot forgive them, you know," Ken whispered. "The villagers. The manner in which we were treated. Never."

"Nor I," she agreed mildly.

"Did they think we would attack them? Eat their flesh?" her brother raged on, his face turning as scarlet as her kimono. "We were harmless. We didn't even have powers!"

Now, Mizoshi nearly choked on her meal.

I have powers now. Another thing I must keep from my brother. How would he react if he learned I could've cooked the fish with but a mere burning gaze?

"Ken," she began slowly, "they were cruel people. The couldn't accept any that were different."

"All are like that, sister. No matter which village you enter. Luckily, they have not glimpsed this." Ken lifted his sleeve-covered hand for emphasis while his other grasped the fish.

"Then, it is best we continue to evade them," Mizoshi went on in an abnormally calm tone.

Her brother settled back, not totally satisfied with her cajolement, but ready to switch the conversation nonetheless.

"Are they your paintings?" he asked curiously, eyes settling on the sheaves of paper that she had placed next to her.

"Yes, they are."

"So, that's what you did for this lord? You painted for him?"

"Yes," Mizoshi lied smoothly, "but he allowed me to keep a fair amount. My painting was the least I could do for him." She tried her best not to let her voice tremble, or to let the tears overtake her.

"Are you planning on selling them?"

The query took her by complete surprise. "Would that be wise?"

"To buy new farm equipment for the spring it would," her brother responded sarcastically.

"Of course." She considered a moment. "Yes, I suppose I could sell them. But, I do not have a position in the market."

"Kita and her parents do," Ken pointed out. "You can share a stand with her."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to be a bother."

Kami-sama, why are you punishing me?

"Nonsense. Kita is a very respectable. She'll surely let you, my sister, share a little space."

Distraught, but refusing to show it, Mizoshi forced herself to smile. "That's a wonderful idea."

"It's decided. I'll bring the matter up with Kita tomorrow. Wait until you meet her." Ken was smiling too.

However happy Mizoshi appeared on the surface, she was seething underneath.

He treats me like I am living off of him, as if I must pay for my presence, and I am the elder! Ken himself is barely fifteen. Well, in any case, it seems like I'll finally meet this Kita. That is at least something to look forward to.

Hurriedly, she finished her fish. Her brother watched her with the eyes of a hawk.

"Did you miss me?" he pressed."When you were at the lord's castle?"

Again, her brother's question startled her. "Yes," she replied honestly, "but I thought you had perished. I am glad to see you alive and well."

"Yes, I feel the same, sister." A strange expression marred her brother's features. "Now, we are separated no longer. We are together again. We shall remain here in the Jari Village for the rest of our days and live our lives in peace with all these good people."

She nodded gamely, wanting desperately to avoid another explosion.

He acts as if it is so easy to move on.

But, for a brief moment, all was well. Too bad it couldn't last. Ken's eyes narrowed on Mizoshi's wrist.

"Sister, where is the present I carved for you? Where is your bracelet?"

Instantly, she paled.

My bracelet?

Suddenly, she remembered.

Yes, I left the bracelet in the cosmetic box back at Naraku's castle. I slid it off my wrist weeks ago when I believed my entire family to be slain to keepthat painful past out of my memory. Now, I have forgotten it. I remembered my paintings, but not the birthday present my own brother made for me.

If it were possible, Mizoshi felt even worse.

Ken didn't forget. Not for a moment did he believe he was the last of our line. How easily I forgot my mother and two brothers both. I believed I was the only one, and so readily embraced the life and role of a demoness, hanyou or no.

And now, I must elaborate the truth again.

"Oh, my bracelet." She gazed down at her arm in mock shock. "Dear brother, the clasp must've broken when I was traveling the forest paths."

"Really? That's a damned shame. I spent the better part of a week on it. I can't imagine why the clasp would've broken so easily."

Viewing her brother's expression of disappointment made her feel even worse yet.

I'm lying to my own brother. What a good sister I am. But, how can I say I left it behind? Ken couldn't understand that. It would simply confirm his suspicions that he and the rest of my family were the furthest I could push them from my mind. I did think they were dead.

"We'll find it, I'm sure. We'll pray for its discovery. The good spirits will hear us."

As always, Mizoshi was awestruck at her brother's astounding faith. Her ownfaith definitely left something to be desired.

But then, who wouldn'tdoubt the spirits heard if for all one's praying while lost in the woods only brought a dark hanyou to save them? However, I suppose the main issue stands. I was rescued.

Selfishly, Mizoshi wondered if her prayers might help reunite her and the man she loved best.

Somehow, Mizoshi got to sleep on her stiff straw pallet. She arose before sunlight on the same hour as when she slept at her old chamber in the castle.

Some things change; others don't. Another fact that can't be changed is that I must meet this Kita. I hope she's friendlier than Ken is.

At the mere thought of his name, her brother's head poked in the hut. Apparently, he was up before her.

"Mizoshi?" he called softly. "Are you asleep?"

"No, Ken. I'm awake," she replied softly.

"Good. I just finished talking to Kita and her family, and they say they'd love to have you. They are overjoyed about the fact a member of my family survived. Kita can't wait to meet you."

At once, Mizoshi was confused. "You told them about us? About why we were hunted and chased under the trees?"

Ken reddened. Not from embarrassment, but from pure incredulous anger. "No, sister. Don't be so foolish. Never tell anyone about that, or it'll mean our heads! I thought you knew better!" he hissed in a tone Mizosi had never heard him use in all the years she'd known him.

"I'm sorry I asked! Please, Ken, I won't tell." She clutched the blanket around herself more fiercely.

Her brother visibly relaxed a bit. "Forgive my outburst, sister. I just don't want to move again—or get myself killed."

"Neither do I."

Ken looked at her for a long moment. "I know. No one wants to be threatened ever again, do they?" He straightened in the doorway, a gentle smile curving his lips. "Now, come. Get dressed. Please cook breakfast when you are ready. After we eat, we'll go to the market square. Be sure to take all those paintings with you."

Before she could remind Ken she was already wearing her red kimono that she had slept in last night, he was gone.

Of course, this isn't my only article of clothing, but I don't want to rush into that yet.

Quickly rising to her feet, she walked over to the stove that concealed her secret treasure. Still, Naraku's words echoed in her brain:

"When the first snow falls…"

It's not snowing though, but I suppose it will soon enough.

The next two hours flew in some kind of blur. The rice was in the storage sack, in the pot, boiled, and then before she realized it, it was in her chipped bowl and bubbling right in front of her eyes. Ken didn't fail to appear for the first meal of the day. After more pleasantries, he picked up his chopsticks and silenced his mouth with food.

This is the rice I remember. Brown rice. Not white milled rice like back at the castle, but coarse, natural rice. Strange that I would miss the taste.

After cleaning their bowls of all rice grains, Ken jumped up. "Kita and her parents are already in the village square. It's important to go as early as possible to make a good impression."

Mizoshi couldn't bite back a titter. "Brother, you act as if I am going to the front lines."

Ken blatantly ignored her, and instead took her hand. Mizoshi was stung by this dismissal, but it was altogether normal.

Nibori and I were the only ones with a sense of humor; Ken and mother were always so serious.

With a spring in his step, Ken lead Mizoshi back down the sloping bank and through the main gate that now stood open. The fiery orb of a sun was bathing the village below in a tawny glow. In the village square, which was incidentally the marketplace as well, the villagers were already setting out their wares. Some were behind their stands already, patiently or impatiently waiting for customers.

Then, she heard it.

"Ken!" a young woman cried. "Over here? Is that your sister?"

"That's Kita," Ken whispered.

Mizoshi once again complied with Ken's incessant arm pulling and allowed herself to be dragged over to a rather large rack that held at least a dozen kimonos. Two smaller tables flanked the immense wooden rack on either side. Behind one of them, a young girl waited. Judging from her flushed, excited appearance, Mizoshi could guess this is the maiden Ken was so infatuated with.

"Kita, this is my elder sister, Mizoshi," Ken pronounced proudly. "She too has decided to join me in Jari Village."

Distractedly, Mizoshi looked over at Kita herself. The young girl beamed.

"Welcome, Mizoshi. It's a pleasure to meet you. I hope all your dreams come true here."

"Kita is the poetic sort," Ken whispered in Mizoshi's ear.

"So, I hear." Mizoshi bowed slightly. "It is nice to finally meet you too. My brother thinks very highly of you."

A healthy flush now tinged Kita's cheeks. "Ken is just teasing!" she giggled. "He does so constantly."

This was news to Mizoshi.

Ken never teases; he's usually so serious. Perhaps Kita can reach his stony heart.

Taking advantage of the break in conversation, Mizoshi surveyed Kita. The girl was young, younger than her fifteen-year old brother. The petite girl's wavy onyx hair brushed the tops of her arms. Her eyes were light amber brown. The hue was so rich; they could be considered liquid pools. If the soul could be read through the eyes, there was no mistaking Kita's innocent exuberance and carefree youthfulness.

I wonder what she sees in mine. Hopefully, she has not noticed.

Upon further inspection, Mizoshi deemed Kita's kimono a thing of beauty. It was melded of dark orange and deep plum purple. Though the material was "peasant cloth," the same type of fabric Mizoshi had worn for all her existence save for one single month, it showed incredible creative prowess and superb sewing skill.

No wonder Kita and her family sell kimonos. They make them of such fine quality.

In spite of her manners, Mizoshi couldn't abstain from speaking. "How old are you, Kita?"

"Thirteen," she answered modestly. "And as for you, Mizoshi?"

"Seventeen."

"My, how old! Old enough to become a wife!" A kind of happiness Mizoshi had never witnessed before brightened Kita's features.

"Yes," she said uncomfortably, unsure of how to react. Luckily, Ken took the initiative.

"Mizoshi will sell paintings if that's all right."

"Oh? Is she an artist?"

"She is no professional, but she practices the craft. It is important we sell them all," Ken responded swiftly before she could answer for herself, much less open her mouth.

A spark ignited in her chest. The spark of the phoenix.

Ken is treating me like I am invisible. I know he always thought my painting a useless waste of effort, but…

"Anything can be sold if one knows the right price," Kita stated solemnly.

She must've heard that from her parents. I doubt this young maiden would've thought this piece of financial advice on her own.

"Well, sit down, Mizoshi," Kita offered graciously. "I know we'll become friends as we sell our items side by side. My parents have given me full control of the stand today. They trust me more and more. Sometimes, the responsibility frightens me."

"But, now you have me for company." Mizoshi grinned at her openly.

There. I'm nice. Who knows? Maybe we will become friends. I could certainly use some.

Unfortunately, this put her in a position for Kita to learn the very thing Mizoshi was so desperately trying to conceal.

Kita frowned in disbelief. "Your eyes," she murmured. "They are so…strange."

"Strange?" Mizoshi balled her hands into fists in an attempt to stopper her anxiety. "What's strange about them?"

The bewildered young maiden spoke haltingly. "I've never beheld eyes such as those. They are nearly…unnatural. They're pure gold…like the sun."

"A trait inherited from her father," Ken broke in harshly. "Her father's family hailed from the north, and their eyes appear more gold than brown."

It was if a lever had been pulled. In seconds, Kita's demeanor changed. The fact could be no longer denied. She'd seen the expression on the young maiden's face that was the exact duplicate of dozens of other faces. The message was clear.

You do not belong…

Thanks for your kind reviews and support, everyone! Hmm, I suspect Kita may be Mary-Suish, but hopefully she's bearable. (You won't see too much of her beyond this chapter, except maybe once. I try not to make any Mary Sues if possible.) Oh, and Naraku will be appearing in the next chapter, but him and Mizoshi will not be reunited just yet. (Sorry, guys!)

NarakusGirlJeanne: I'm honestly not too sure on that. After they get together again, there will be one or two more chapters to explain what happens in their futures, but I don't know for how long the fic will continue beyond that.

someone: I'm sure Naraku won't mind. :)

Freaky Krazer: You're on the right track with Ken. He's not as perfect as he appears to be. Oh, and about Kagura and Sesshoumaru, thanks for offering, but I'm already spoiled! (I read the spoilers on some Japanese/English translation sites. Bad me.) Actually, I was going to discontinue the Sesshoumaru/Kagura relationship for this story.

Sakura evil twin of Sango: Sesshoumaru will show up two or so chapters from now.