Despite all her heated traveling, Mizoshi was just too exhausted to continue to Mt. Hakurei. Especially with a weighted bag of meat dragging her down. Her shoulder ached, and her breath was coming in harsh pants; causing her to take in huge gulps of icicle-forming air and then cough heartily when the coldness entered her vulnerable lungs.
If I don't stop soon, I'm going to take sick.
In the end, she camped in another tight enclosure that was in form of another cave—the water freezing on contact when it touched the frostbite causing stone walls. It was pure torture to wait for her feeble fire to warm the little "nest."
At least, I'm doing things for myself now. Still, it's exceedingly lonely, regardless of the temporary independence I have at my disposal.
Mizoshi wasn't too worried about what awaited her back "home." It would set Naraku's mind to rights, and she could continue her life. Sooner than she expected, she fell asleep by the glittering flames and awoke with the sun. Now, she had only two more days to return to the dark hanyou before he came searching for her.
It really was kind of him to provide the meat, but I could've done it myself. He really doesn't have to bother.
Cautiously roasting some meat for breakfast with the use of assorted twigs and branches, Mizoshi ate her fill and resumed her journey. As she walked, it was almost as if she could feel Naraku waiting for her. Watching her trudge up the trail. Clenching his teeth together, smoothing his princely robes, and impatiently tapping his moon-white fingers on the dark spreading wood.
This was a new route she was taking back to the mountainside. She had lost track of the original, but was sure she wouldn't miss the gigantic peak hailing her from afar.
If I keep walking in this southerly direction, I won't miss it.
This particular path was more interesting from the first. There were more signs of vitality, whether in the form of an isolated hut, an unassuming roadside sign, or a hibernating tree.
But, I still don't see any people…
Gradually, the day began to warm, and the ice began to melt. To exacerbate this effect, a slow, steady rain began to fall. Mizoshi had no umbrella or any protective covering of any sort, so she cheerfully decided she would be soaked.
If worst comes to worst, I can build a fire. I won't freeze to death in just a matter of hours, and Mt. Hakurei is mere miles away.
Out of the corner of her eye, a shape moved. A crouching shape. Surrounded by the dense thicket of pine trees. Mizoshi's neck snapped to the side in genuine surprise when she realized that it wasa man. Stopping herself completely, she watched the distressing sight.The man was furiously washing in his hands in a fast-moving stream. Every so often, he would raise one hand or sometimes both for examination; only to dip it them back in the punishing frigid water for more fevered cleansing. Stunned, Mizoshi approached him carefully.
What's on his hands? Why is he so nervous?
He was dressed finely enough in dark blue hakama and a matching haori—the shoulders designed in a lighter shade of the same primary color. A brown vest was layered over his haori. Even from this distance, she could glimpse that his black hair was bound in the usual fashion for a young male. Yet, this did not prevent the tiny stubborn claws that were his bangs from sweeping the top of his burnished forehead.
He looks to be in trouble. I suppose there's no harm in having a friendly chat with him…
Leaving the sack of vittles behind, Mizoshi tentively called out to the man. "Hello? Is there something wrong?"
Startled, the man raised his head and gazed right at her; hands dangling uselessly in the current of the stream.
"Should I…leave?" she ventured.
Finally, he seemed to recover his wits. "No. No," he repeated more firmly than before. At last, he removed his hands and hastily dried them on his clothing.
Aren't his hands cold? Should I mention them?
As it turned out, she didn't have to.
"What are you doing here, young lady?" He smiled, making his chestnut brown eyes shine. "Are you from the village? I haven't met you yet."
"I am a traveler," she replied carefully. "My name is Mizoshi."
"Doctor Suikotsu," he said without a moment's hesitation, almost cutting her off. "I mean—oh, I started that wrong. Doctor Suikotsu is who I am." His friendly, good-natured expression didn't waver, even after his imagined fumble.
He heart stirred at the sight.
He's so genuinely warm…
Then, something raised an alarm in her brain. And it couldn't have been a coincidence.
Suikotsu? Suikotsu is in the same vein as Bankotsu. Could this man be related to that overconfident soldier?
"You look confused, not to mention cold, young lady," he observed. "If you are a traveler, perhaps you should stay with the children?"
The children?" she echoed.
That welcoming smile disappeared. "The village children lost many of their parents in the wars." A shroud of grief obscured his features. "I care for them now. You can meet them, if you wish. The children always love to meet new company."
Mizoshi was staring fully into his face.
He has such a good heart. There is no way he could be related to Bankotsu. It must be sheer coincidence.
Aware of her lingering stare, Mizoshi voluntarily broke the spell. "No thank you," she declined politely. "I must return to my…husband." The term shocked herself more than he.
"Your husband? Well, why isn't he traveling with you?" His brow furrowed.
Mizoshi chose to tell the truth. As much as she dared, in any case. "My husband has taken sick. He was near death only a short week ago. I am bringing him some food and other medicines."
"Then, let me see him. I am a doctor, after all." He made a tiny motion to stand.
Mizoshi panicked. "No!" she cried.
"What? What is wrong?" Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, his mouth slackened in surprise at her explosion.
"My husband is far too ill to receive visitors. Besides, our home is still much further down the road."
A determined light entered his rich brown eyes. "Nonsense. I can walk with you for part of the way. It is improper for a girl to travel alone for so many miles. But first, why don't you—"
"Doctor Suikotsu!" a shrill child yelled right in the middle of his sentence. Bawling was soon heard right afterwards. "I have a cut!" The harsh sobs were coming closer.
"I told the children not to play near those rocks!" In exasperation, Doctor Suikostu craned his neck around towards the bushes behind him.
"Your services are needed elsewhere," Mizoshi dropped in hurriedly. "I really must be getting along."
"So soon?" He was now watching her.
"I'll not intrude," she declared crisply. "Goodbye, Doctor Suikotsu." Her hand scrabbled for the sack near her feet. The sobs were getting even closer.
If those children discover me, I'll never get away.
"Goodbye, Mizoshi. If you come by this area again, be sure to visit the village." He was smiling again. Out of the blue, a small gust of wind released another claw-like protrusion of hair onto his forehead.
Not bothering to exchange any more pleasantries, Mizoshi hurried down the road.
I have wasted too much time already. I must return to Naraku, the sooner the better. I never should have conversed with him in the first place.
Her surroundings gradually blended into one long featureless strip until she started to recognize some small details. A bent branch in the winding road. Four bushes clustered together in a lopsided square with dead blossoms attached to their frost-hewn leaves. A gnarled tree stump. Soon, the mountain itself commanded her entire attention.
Naraku…
Do you know I'm here? Do you sense me?
A barely noticeable spring in her step, Mizoshi began to trundle up to the entrance of the new castle where all the spiders lurked. The bird was flying home to a nest of spidersilk. It was the most absurd and unnatural thing a naturalist could watch.
Tripping over debris, jagged stones, and wide cracks that threatened to trip, Mizoshi once more found herself at the threshold of the shimmering barrier. So. That was why her movements were becoming more and more laborious. In the end, she nearly killed herself trying to get through—bag of meat in hand. But, half of this report was false. In truth, the sack was easily thrown through the barrier with no accompanying problem, but as for Mizoshi herself, the result was less than desirable.
Threatening to drop over from exhaustion, she scooped some snow into her parched mouth to moisten her tongue and was off again. Her body was beginning to ache and burn from the punishment, and her back was ready to break. Somehow, Mizoshi wandered onto the veranda of the familiar castle that greeted her without a word. Ankles straining, chest heaving, and head aching—she let the sack plummet onto the structure with a deafening thump. Dizzy, Mizoshi found the threshold into the castle itself and gratefully crept into its darkened interior. She would never complain about it being too cold in here ever again after what she had experienced on the road for the better part of three days and two nights.
I need to rest. I need to lie down…
Sadly, this was not to be. As soon as Mizoshi started to shuffle within, intent on reaching her bed, she was brutally grabbed by demanding hands and pushed against the nearest wall. Automatically, a mewl of trepidation escaped her wind-burned lips. Seconds later, she could no longer make noise due to cool flesh being pressed against them. She relaxed.
How I missed this…
The kiss seemed to linger forever. However, reality returned when Naraku stepped away from the melting pool of skin Mizoshi had become.
His kisses kill me.
Gasping, her eyes met his. Those red eyes hadn't changed one iota, and glittered like fiery hot rubies. Stuttering, she addressed him. "N-n-naraku, you startled m-me."
He smirked. His habitual response.
"I thought it only proper that a husband affectionately greet his wife." Those laughing crimson eyes burned with intensity.
At a loss, Mizoshi gaped at him open-mouthed. "You…heard that?"
"Yes, Mizoshi. I saw much over your travels. You didn't think yourself alone in that cold, whistling cave, did you?" Naraku actually chuckled in amusement.
"Yes?" She was quite unsure of how to respond.
Did he see Suzaku? Does it matter if he did? I haven't betrayed him by in any manner possible, after all.
Of course, Mizoshi could not directly ask this of the dark hanyou.
"Pardon me for asking, Mizoshi," his smooth voice caressed her ears, "but why exactly are you wet? You're soaked to the bone."
"It started to rain."
I could ask him how he knew about what I said to Doctor Suikotsu, but would he honestly give an answer? I suppose it's for the best if I do not know.
"Hmm. Kagura!" The abrupt change of tone brought Mizoshi back to the present. Within moments, the detestable wind witch skulked into view. Her judging scarlet eyes raked over Mizoshi, but she chose to say nothing disparaging. Not with her master watching on.
"Yes?" The single syllable shot out of her perpetually polished lips.
"Build a fire in Mizoshi's chambers. Can you not see she is back?"
"I see." A private smirk of her own nudged Kagura's lips. Mizoshi could only envision what else she wanted to divulge without Naraku's presence.
"Well? Do it without hesitation!" Naraku's eyes actually flared red.
Mizoshi winced.
Why do I have the sensation these two were at each other's throats?
"Come with me," Kagura bit out without the slightest trace of emotion. Wheeling around, the wind witch stomped away, leaving Mizoshi very much disinclined to follow.
What choice do I have? I am cold and wouldn't say no to some warming flames.
"Safely" back inside her own room, she was amazed to witness Kagura immediately set herself to the task of replacing fresh wood on the hearth. Once this task was done, the sullen woman set herself to the task of igniting a spark. No conversation was made.
"I'll do that," Mizoshi offered congenially. Immediately, she locked her eyes onto the wood and sure enough a wisp of flame appeared at the very heart of the haphazardly organized woodpile—right where she desired it. Indeed, she had had her practice whilst on the road and elsewhere.
Taken aback, Kagura jumped back in surprise. However, not more than a second later did she regain her sour composure. Those jade earrings swung around as she leveled Mizoshi with a piecring gaze.
"Is that all you can do, hanyou?"
"I can teleport as well," she replied honestly.
"Hmph. Hanyou are unpredictable as they are inferior."
Reddening, she too decided that she was going to engage in this verbal battle. "Naraku's a hanyou, Kagura. Your own master." Mizoshi drew herself up with faintest hint of pride.
Here was one sole point where Naraku differed with his own incarnation. This was the primary similarity she alone shared with him. He was another hanyou. Naturally, this was part of the reason she was so drawn to him like a hummingbird to nectar. However, it was not the solitary reason.
For the briefest moment, Mizoshi worried that perhaps she had gone too far. The wind witch's hand twitched as if she considered striking her. Then, the red-eyed woman reacted in the stragest manner possible. She grinned. Actually grinned to the brink of showing her teeth. At once, Mizoshi grew worried. Never had Kagura done this. To her, in any case.
"Yes, you are correct, Mizoshi. Naraku is a hanyou—for now." She tossed her head in a superior fashion.
That haughty remark made her stiffen. Mizoshi's heart began to pound. "What do you mean, Kagura?" She was on alert for any attack.
In one elegant swoop, the wind witch was on her feet. "Use you intellect, hanyou, meager though as it is. You should consider what precisely the hindrance is that keeps Naraku a hanyou, and how it will affect you once he has disposed of it." With that, the bitter woman in lavender left, leaving Mizoshi herself with the implications.
Thankfully accepting the warmth the blankets on her mattress brought, she rested her chin on her hand and replayed Kagura's shielded warning. And the meaning hit her all too soon.
I know that Naraku wishes to become a youkai. How often I wished to become a normal human like my mother. Hanyou always feel an allegiance to one side or the other. But, if Naraku loses his heart, will he lose the ability to love?
The thought was almost fatalistic to comprehend.
If he cannot love, what will become of me? There will be no reason for me to be here. So, that inevitably would lead to a situation that will…make Kagura immensely joyous.
Mizoshi wrapped the silken blankets around her closer.
Was Suzaku right all along?
Author's Note: Ooh, I created another dilemma. :) Suikotsu will appear once more, but not in his "good doctor" form. (To Mizoshi's dismay.) Thanks to those that have reviewed and still have faith in this story:)