Author's note: a meticulousness: the dialogues are contained in "…", the thoughts in "…". u Please pay attention to it/u
I have to precise something about the story, too: going on, you will read about a lot of things which u doesn't belong to the real Feudal Japan – and, in fact, you already have in the previous chapters – This is the reason why I've written in the summary "Alternative Feudal Japan".
Crash of swords
By Carlotta
Chapter two: I will fight
The sparkling fronds were like an emerald, like a mosaic, an ancient mosaic resembling the one she had once seen on a scroll, when she was little. Her father had told her that was an art that people who had lived in Europe, an insofar land where the sun drowns in the sea, cared a lot about. She liked it very much: the picture refigured a wood and a white column –marble, as they said- and a woman, seminude, with a wine tissue around her inner treasures, which barely covered her nature; she was laying on the grass with a goblet replete of a blood-like liquid.
Like the vivid colors of that mosaic, like the myriads of dowels which composed it, that wood was a giant portrait, immobile, yet pulsing of invisible life. She realized the only disturbers of that peace were they two, with their pawing mounts, two wonderful horses, cool and overflowing energies.
"The horse doesn't betray, my beloved Izayoi", she remembered her dear husband having said to her a day, while walking through the campaigns; "when it's tired, it shows to you its exhaustion little by little, so that you can try to solve the problem before it's too late. There are other animals you've never seen, my dear, which faint when you think they're still rested". He had caressed affectionately her cheek and smiled at her amazed look; sometimes, being with him, she felt to be still a baby, to have never grown up. He was so distant from her humble comprehension of the world, he had seen so many things…She giggled inaudibly, her thin lips just curved that little which needed for them to be called smiling.
She enjoyed the view of that profound green, innocently playing to observe where the leaves gave up to the sky's blue shadings. How perfect.
As the sunrays became less and less lucent, she began to wonder if and where they were going to camp for the night. When obscurity grew deep and unplumbed, even her discreet conduct faded, as the sleep warmed up her bones, asking for a bed of any sort, even a moss or a straw heap. Tactfully, she proposed the idea…
"Knight…knight!", she sweetly called him. Then she remained silent until he stopped the march and slightly turned his head toward her; just a hint, what was sufficient to allow her to see a raised eyebrow.
"Do you think we can camp for the night now? It's late, we can proceed tomorrow…"
…
"Are you weary?"
She nodded. He had been mute during all the travel that day, while she abandoned herself to far, pleasant memories…
His voice had reached her almost like a gift. But she had the impression he longed to have her i asking /i him to take some rest. "As if he wants to emphasize my weakness, my uselessness; as if he wants me to take conscience of how a load I am…"
"Fine, then. That oak over there will work."
"Maybe I was wrong." Sesshoumaru was one of those people she wasn't fully able to understand, and when she thought she was at a good point discovering their personality, everything joined forces to prove her wrong. Just like him: when she had demonstrated him her well-disposition toward him, recklessly running to bring him Toukijin's scabbard, having him carrying her back to the castle in a gesture of primitive gratitude…She had thought they had found a way to get along better…
"Well, I know it wasn't going to be so easy", she remembered, an inexplicable feeling of guilt showing in her chest: maybe it was her fault, maybe it was her who hadn't helped him after his mother's passing…
"Lay here. Don't search for water, or for food. Don't get away. Don't leave this safe place, for whatever reason."
Her eyes widened. "Orders…?"
"Good night Queen".
"Good night…", she whispered in a breath. "W-wait, where are you going?"
He wheeled, as if flying instead of grazing the soil, and almost glowered at her.
"I'll be nearby", he added after a while, leaving her alone once again.
She took a blanket from her horse's back, now indistinguishable in the black night, and arranged her jaded frame in a large socket of the big tree. It had to be an old plant, judging from its massive, nodose stalk, and from its chunky branches. As she laid on a carpet of dried foliage, the fronds lowered to cover the hideaway, to grant her a restoring slumber. She noticed it and softly patted the bark, graven by the centuries.
"Arigatou, Ancient Oak. What can I do to thank you?"
Submitted, a baritone voice responded.
"Relax now. Tomorrow you will tell me your story".
"Oh, but I can do it even now, if you like!", she said, eyes sparkling in joyfulness.
"No, not now".
"Why not?", she found herself demanding, unable to stop the impulse, the curiosity.
"…Because now you need to rest".
Alone. Finally.
Around him nude rocks, swallows, waterfalls, peaks, craters.
The sensation of being only with his own individual, the perception of the void all around him. Being in harmony with the nature, being the only breathing creature in a vast radius.
These were the things that pacified him with his own, struggling soul. The fact of being always tensed, always composed, always collected, had almost made him believe that was his natural condition. "Perhaps", he thought sarcastically, "I don't know how to come back…"
He didn't feel hypocritical, dissembler, or false; he didn't feel uncomfortable or awkward, either. Actually, the extraordinary fact was that he felt completely at ease, simply letting everything which didn't involve him merely slide away.
In one word: apathy. That same apathy which caused his victory in battle, which gave him his incredible grasp on himself. That same apathy which, he knew, frightened his father so badly.
But this wasn't the only reason he had taken some alone time to spend away from that woman, away from the world. The truth was a more uncertain, troubling realty: from now on, he had to fight.
It wasn't a training or a duel anymore, now he realized he was going to combat every day to guarantee the woman's and his safety. He wasn't scared, he never was –didn't he value his life?- but annoyed…well, he undeniably was upset. He would have met the lowest creatures, and they would have dared to come in his way, to threaten him…Ridicule. Was the glory worth of all this waste of time and energies?
Yes, it was.
He had to be determined, strong, still, firm. No doubt, no rethinking. No fear, no sorrow.
He licked his lips. "Just watch me, father…"
He descended from the big stone he was abutted to and stepped toward the lower course of a river, full of all the innumerable cascade's waters. Slowly undressing himself, he decided he could at least concede to his forceful body a bath. The freezing flow enveloped his form as his hairs became a single surge with the gushes. Shining in the moonlight, he disappeared in the deluge, while the clouds ate the only sun which, after every setting, enlightens the darkness of the night, above the precise spot in which the river's nymph had had the fortune to graze his ivory form.
"!"
What was this, all of a sudden?
…"Youki!".
It was barely perceptible, but there was unquestionably a demonic aura approaching. He couldn't sense it very well, it had to belong to someone really insignificant, judging from its frail presence. However…that thing was going straight to the place the woman was resting. Those shameful low youkai, more similar to beasts…when they perceived an easy prey they immediately made their way toward it.
"Here it begins".
Without delay, he headed to the wood, Toukijin's hilt firmly grasped. She was resting peacefully, this was sure: he could sense no fear, no reaction. Following the trace of her scent, so comparable to blooming lotus, he made his way through the intricate vegetation, as a thick fog wrapped him, making him unable to see beyond the nearest tree. No longer aware of the obstacles, he began to slate furiously whatever happened to be in front of him, shearing countless branches as he began to increase his speed. There was definitely something wrong there.
First, the fog: his view had always been formidable; impossible that a meager fog could have that effect.
Second, her scent: it was growing more intoxicating, abnormally; if he neared more, his olfaction would have been weakened too.
Third, the aura he had sensed before: it had vanished.
He proceeded, surprised to have not arrived yet: he was sure to have covered less distance going away, but…the path seemed endless.
Wait a moment: the path? So…he was no longer in the wood…!
He abruptly turned around to find himself in a desolate land, not a single tree visible. The fog quickly dissipated, as he caught a particular which almost scared him: a piece of the woman's kimono was thrown on the ground, before his very eyes. As he delineated the outline of the stars on the overseas blue of the fabric, a false, liar memory began to take form in his mind…
…There she was, preparing herself for the night, but…wait, she wasn't alone…he was…
"Right", he confirmed, "I was behind a tree while she…took a cloth, she…"
Everything began to spin as he lost conscience of the realty around him; colors, reverberations, faces without a name filing, or rather tearing in an unclear, remote space…His vision blurred, then became dark. And that low, continue hum…It seemed the voice interweaved in the texture of the world; it suited everything so well, to be almost inaudible, but there it was, restless…
He felt like drunk, sounds from nowhere echoed in his mind; he was living a noisy thought, he was on the edge of a…jubilation of harlequin feathers…No, now he was…swimming in a pool…yes, a stream, and at the horizon…the palace, his residence…
This reminiscence belonged to his far childhood, despite the fact that…he had by long forgotten…
…Sure, there she was…his mother…
"You're beautiful", he murmured to the illusion of her figure, as a divine woman with long curled hair, of the same color the wheat steals from the sun when it comes June, mixed to red fire, grinned at him.
She handled him something…a long, lucent object…it appeared to be…no, no mistake about that: it was a blade. She was offering him the weapon, beaming in contentment; "You see, mother…", he couldn't stop but think, "I've grown in a Cavalier". She beamed amiably at him, she had to be very blissful…and somehow he felt lighter. He made a little move, as if to clasp what she was proffering…
Wait, this scent...No, he had to be wrong, there was no scent around him, only a mute vision, only a dazzling light…
Yet that impression, that perfume…like lotus…
But a sign from the shining woman before him was enough to erase any question from his mind. Right then, he didn't remember anything, he wanted nothing, just to reach out and…
He felt as if he was in the depth of the ocean. Oh, it was clearly a fantasy, but the astonishment, the hard-breathing…he could almost sense the bubbles escaping his lips, but he didn't feel heavy at all, on the contrary it was all so…free, so ethereal…
The woman grinned again, widely, so widely that her fangs appeared under the cherry lips. Red…there was…something else of that color, he…
He narrowed his eyes, longing to see, just to distinguish a crimson shading on the blade's surface…Red, on a blade: blood? What else could that be?
The woman nodded, as if able to read his thoughts before he himself could finish them. So that blade was…dirtied with blood…
Everything became darker, as a bundle of brightness cleared a spot; there laid a cascade of raven silk…
The woman nodded again and again pushed the blade toward him. He roused a hand, he was about to take it…But, what was this unpleasant sensation?
And then, a voice began to insinuate in his mind, shrilling little by little.
"Can't you see, Sesshoumaru? Can't you see what must be done? Watch there…look at that spot…Can't you recognize her? Can't you recognize the cause of our sufferings?"
The knight listened carefully, but didn't understand the meaning of those words…it was like a telepathic communication, the woman in front of him did nothing but smile, yet he somehow knew it was her who was talking…his mother…
He obeyed and beheld the luminous spot, just to realize that…the raven cascade was breathing…Was that…alive?
"Are you so slow, my son? Can't you see our perniciousness, our partridge? Look at her, Sesshoumaru! Can't you see her? Can't you see the wretched woman who caused me so much pain?"
The voice had become vulgar and harsh, but he didn't seem to notice it; because now he clearly saw…that everything was right there.
Izayoi, the woman his father loved so much. Izayoi, the woman his father had married, against the family's consent. Izayoi, a hanyou's mother…
There she was, lying, a brilliant red rivulet flowing approximately from her abdomen. Now that he could look closely, she was breathing quite heavily: unambiguously his mother had injured her, and she was now unconscious.
He lifted his gaze to meet the woman's crimson one. He understood what he had to do, he understood what she was asking him. She continued in a more seducing tone.
"Exactly, my son: kill her. Kill her and everything will be right. It's right for us to hate her, it's right to take her useless life: she has made my husband fall in low disgrace, in ruin. She has dishonored his once so glorious name. Now there's the solution, right in front of you, my son. I've prepared this for you, I've prepared this revenge for you…"
Yes, she was the cause, she was…
Revenge? Upon a human female's expenses? Did his mother think he was that low, that coward? This wasn't…this couldn't be…
"What are you doing? What are you waiting for? Show pity to your wretched mother! Take my avenge, my son! Make her taste my wrath through the line of your blade!"
Had he heard correctly? His mother…wretched?
"Mother…have you no dignity left…to want this Sesshoumaru to take your avenge at such a price? At the price of my honor?"
He blinked one, two, three times. And each time that figure became less and less attractive, desirable…As he slowly regained consciousness, her eyes broadened immoderately, whilst her fangs lengthened like sickles and her curls changed into hissing viscid snakes. Her voice sounded like thunders and around her fired arrows flung in a mortal spiral.
Not completely awaken yet, he remained unmoving, deeply disconcerted, staring at the fainted Queen the vision was showing him, as the monster resumed to shout, this time with its throat spreading disgusting gasses and her tongue spilling venomous splashes, which melted the rocks under her, while her horrible puss gnarled in a perfidy grimace.
"What are you waiting? Can't you feel the pleasurable smell of her blood? Taste it! SLAY HER NOW!"
Fatal error.
"Smell?" What smell? There was, there was…"THERE'S NO SMELL!", his intellect roared so sharply that he believed he was going to be stunned.
His eyes flashed red in sudden realization whilst he felt his body collapse to the ground, as if he had been on a cloud all this time, while his mind made a quick sum: he had noted it before, that vision had no scent; that could not be Izayoi, for she was in the trunk; and more…his mother had never met the Queen, for she had died long before. So…
He spurted forward and snatched what he still saw as a beautiful woman, tightening so hard that his claws dived in the milky skin; but no blood poured out. Fired arrows scratched him, but he couldn't even see them.
"Who are you?", he growled to her, shaking her like a cane in the tempest. "ANSWER!"
In a moment, the vision faded away, shattering into burning glass' pieces: Izayoi, the blade, the pool, the darkness. He didn't pay attention to those, he wanted only a thing. Letting his rage and ferocity spread out without limit, he darted to attack that monstrous creature, now revealed to his eyes in its full horror. He submerged that nature's abortion of hits, but that living thing didn't even pretend to defend itself. Once he had given vent to his anger, the horrific demon reappeared right before him, undamaged.
Uncontrolled, he assaulted it over and over again, without feeling fear, fatigue, sorrow. He broke the arrows, ran rampant and stroke savagely, scattered the serpents, but the more he cut them, the more they multiplied. Annoyed of the fight, he allowed a sufficient amount of poison to dispense in his veins and collected every single drop of it in one attack. He pierced the monster right in the abdomen, releasing all the toxic substance in a quantity sufficient to melt the entire wood around them. As he pulled back his clawed hand, still winded by a green cloud, just when he was sure he had gotten rid of that ogre, again it materialized before his very eyes.
Once more he unbridled his ire, but comprehended it was useless: to hit that thing…it was like hitting smoke: he finally noticed that it had no aura.
And so his mind made quickly two plus two. "You are an illusion, aren't you?"
"Do you think you're making fun of me!"
He avoided attacking and gathered the Toukijin – who knows when, it had slid on the terrain – then, patiently, stayed still. In the very instant the creature showed up, he sliced it in half with an energy akin to a blue thunder, a single thought readable in his eyes: "You've made me waste enough time".
Without even detect if his stroke had worked, the sword already in its proper folder, he whirled and wended in the direction of the wood, silently hoping to be in time. Now it was patently manifest that this had all been a made-up to keep him far away. Away from her.
He found the passage he had hollowed in the undergrowth while he was – it was hard to admit – under that spell, and hasty scuttled where he had left her just some hours before.
As the ancient oak came into sight, he immediately noticed something was different from before: the niche had been covered by boughs and foliage and was so well camouflaged to be hardly distinguishable.
Once again, he grasped the wrought hilt of his powerful sword.
She was breathing serenely, entrapped in the realm of dreams, her countenance peacefully distended, her frame placidly soothed. The sheets' rustles lulled her, as a busy squirrel crunched some chestnuts, beating the time out the time itself. Yes, out of time…because where she was going now nobody could reach her, because she was suspended between the worlds, and her life's memories were passing like in a speedy sequence in front of her.
"Right", she mumbled in her sleep, "this is what has been my life…before him …"
She moaned as the image of a butterfly took form…"That's right…I loved to run freely, barefoot, to climb the cliffs…"
She slightly saddened as the reminiscence of when her parents obliged her to wear a pair of sandals…and when they imprisoned her waist in an obi and coerced her feet into rude geta(1)…They said she was a young woman, she had to be mannered…
She had never deluded them, nor upset them: she was the perfect daughter. Until…
Well, love claimed her heart, and she didn't answer no. So now her relatives hated her with a passion for "mating" with a demon.
"More or less the same reason why Sesshoumaru hates his father: "mating" with a human…"
She turned on her left side and snuggled, maybe a reaction to the chilly air which the kind oak could not stop either. Her locks fell smoothly on her cheeks, as she sighed slowly awakening, because of a disturbing leaf which was tickling her nose. When she was almost conscious, a finger moved to eliminate the bother; she delicately pushed aside some leaves and brushed her fringe away from her now faintly open eyes. She gropingly tasted the ground, searching her blanket; she had surely tossed it away while slumbering…
Suddenly, silent. The squirrel appeased, the leaves jolted, the branches trembled…A single chestnut fell before her very eyes: the squirrel had fled…
The bark began to crackle as the leaves began to run, desperately, like maiden when bandits are up to kidnap them.
No, wait…the earth was doddering...!
She shuddered, whilst her eyes expanded, her pupils fused…An earthquake!
God, she was terrified by cataclysm, by Nature's forces!
The Prince, she had to call him, he had to be near! He had to!
She roused to abscond, but only butted against the solid barks. When a second, more virulent shake distracted the earth, she helplessly fell to the foliage mat once again. A dust spread in the static air, and she coughed, scared.
"Ancient Oak, Ancient Oak!...Please let me go outside!"
Only other vibrations from the Earth's centre echoed her; maybe that tree was sleeping…
"But…I'm here! I'm alone! Oh, where's he, where's he?"
She collected her strength and released it in a fraught cry.
"Sesshoumaru, Sesshoumaru!"
Sand began to escape from the wood's slits as the petrified woman remained still, yelling for help every so often…
There she was, safe in the oak's trunk. There was no doubt about that, the demonic aura wasn't threatening her right now. There was no need to excise that old plant just because of an ill-founded suspicion, besides…she was probably resting by now: if he woke her up, she would have been tired during the travel the next day, and would have be a major nuisance.
He slowed down his run and stopped some feet away from her hidden pallet, the Toukijin secure at his side.
But just when he was about to sit down, something caught his attention: a weird glimpse in a shrubby place a mere yard from where he was. He wasn't sure, but judging from the brilliantness and the type of light, it could quite well be…"A knife". And…a knife has no feet; and…a knife doesn't walk in the wood at night.
He slipped in that direction, leaving again the poor woman in her accidental prison, deaf to her yells. He could not know, but someone had corked his ears and he was actually incapable of hearing her pleading voice. As he guardedly reached the suspicious position, his guesses revealed to be realty. What he saw didn't even confuse him, yet an odd feeling of emptiness pervaded him as he surveyed the gloomy, sinister, mantled silhouette of a hooded being. That thing was definitely the source of the aura he had sensed before. Feeble and vanishing that was, but there it was.
He had originally had some hesitations about the energy's font, before: after all, it could have been a powerful youkai too, so strong to disguise its own aura; it could have been a human, too – a very bastard human though…
However this wasn't time to make conjectures, he had found out what he was curious about. For the rest, that thing, whatever it was, wasn't showing any aversion towards him, so he could abandon it there and come back to his affairs. He moved some steps back to the tree…
"Where do you think you are going…?"
He didn't pay attention to it and only continued to walk.
"I'm talking with you, combatant".
He instantly whirled to face the now revealed spirit under the cloak. It wasn't just his robe to be black…in fact, that creature was essentially of the same color of sepia's ink. And what he saw next made him surprised that it could talk. In fact it had no real face, no features: it was like an amount of oil and peat, like a wave, like wax. No mouth, no eyes – or better two voids like cloak caves where normal people have eyes…
And that thing, whatever it was, appeared to begin to take interest in him. What an annoyance: even if the night was wasted because of that human' need to rest, to waste energies with such a being would have truly been a crime. The Knight snarled:
"Go away".
After this short statement, he naturally turned it his back once again and shifted to come back. But from that being, a long spear took form and darted to attack the apparently off-guard youth. He reduced it in shreds and rapidly clutched what seemed the creature's throat and squeezed it to death. The creature's big void enlarged like an ink smudge. He knew it was going to end like this, with a foolish opponent like that, and, not feeling anything while shattering that life, he felt nothing more than a cold killer. He didn't know it he was pleased or not.
In the last instants of its life, that thing let the knife escape its remaining hand.
In the very second the metal touched the soil, producing a deaf noise, something like stoppers fell from the cavalier's ears, and in a moment all the appeals, all the screams she had vainly entrusted to the wind burst out in his head, exploding.
He hurriedly let go of the creature and dashed faster than he could imagine to the oak. Now he heard them, the supplications, every single one of them: she truly was in despair, perhaps she was victim of an illusion too.
With a single stroke, he clean-cut all the oak's branches which hid her from him; the aged ranking pierced the night with a terrifying shout. The moonlight leaked through the orifice, the woman let out a sigh of relief at the mere sight of him. Then, jaded, she collapsed.
He took her and brought her to the horses, just some steps distant from the tree.
But everything said him it wasn't ended yet: the rustling foliage, the whispering breeze, everything reported him of unnamed enemies hidden in the night. As innumerable shadows encircled them, like hungry wolves, he prepared himself to face the foes.
Izayoi, intelligent enough to understand the everything-but-rosy situation, cringed away from the soon-to-be battlefield and pressed her vacillating frame against the oak's bark, her horse's reins barely grazed by her trembling fingers.
"Surely", the knight thought an instant before not thinking anything more, "I'm not alone".
"P-prince…"
Oh, my! What did she want now? Couldn't she comprehend the circumstances?
"What?"
She flinched and suddenly moved backwards, afraid.
"Your intention is to fight, isn't it?"
"I see no other way", was his peeved reply.
She distinctly felt a lump in her throat as the tree became less and less definite, while humid drops formed on her eyebrows. She lowered her eyes. "Sesshoumaru…is it possible that you do not know any other way to save yourself? Is it possible that the only thing which can guarantee you survival is, in your opinion, the battle? Is this why you seek strength, why you can't control your yearn for power?". She brought a hand to her forehead and sighed. "He must feel so forlorn", she realized, suddenly saddened not by his conduct's apparent cruelty, by the faults she blamed herself to have committed instead.
"Couldn't we simply…tuck ourselves away?"
To this, he repressed a very bad rebut. Even if she was actually proposing something too shameful to be even thought, she remained the Queen. She was his father's bride, in spite of her ignoble nature.
"I consider myself more honorable than that".
Honor? What honor? Was there something wrong in trying to fulfill a duty? How could they get what they ha begun the travel for, if they died the very first day their adventure had started? In those conditions he was really blathering something about, about…
She couldn't bear more. On the verge of tears, she screamed all that passed through her mind, careless. Blood pulsed in her temples.
"Why, Sesshoumaru? Always because of your pride, your pride! There would be nothing dishonorable in trying to escape, you have the right to live! Be selfish for a time, think to the good points! There's no need for you to waste time and energies in this action. Please, please listen to me, let's just get out of here unharmed while we can!"
"Be selfish for a time"? "You have the right to live"? Surely, she had gone crazy due to the terror.
In a not-so-well-hidden huff, as if she had offended him in the worst way, he replied nothing and simply continued to stare at the intricate vegetation. She fretted over his reaction, understanding too late she had used his first name more than a time without having the permission to do so. Yet, at the moment, she didn't care at all. She couldn't deny she felt guilty for how he was revealing to be grown up: when she had married the man she loved, the Prince was already in his teens and he showed already at their first meeting his…well, harshness toward her. She was so young then, so ingenuous; she had never really scrutinized deeply in his soul when she could have maybe been able to find something in him. And now, now that she wished so badly to know his reasons, she found out she wasn't able to envision not even a cause which would bring him to such a reckless attempt.
"This won't solve anything, and what if, if…Oh, you are smarter than me, you already know how many they are: this aura is suffocating me, a simple human: it means they're numberless. For this time, accept my advice: let's just worry about our safety! I'm saying I'm not going to witness our disgrace!"
Ok. One…Two…Three…
"Damaré, woman!"(2)
"Sesshoumaru!" – unshed drops were now blurring her vision: he was angry… – "I'm begging you! But don't you value your life?"
This hit him. He felt both insulted, for it was obvious that she feared he could have been defeated, and astonished, for that woman somehow managed to read what he confined in his brain's darkest recess. To value his life…it was something that, maybe, he had still to learn…He had to deal with too many things to stop a moment and think about what he truly…He had a mission, an order, he had no time to have doubts.
She burst into tears, grabbed the oak's bark and silently wept, eyes shut close.
"I…don't want to see battles. I don't want to see blood! Why have people to slaughter each other this brutally, why?"
She felt her own, warm tears streaming down her cheeks; she tasted a salty savor on her soft lips, but it flavored bitterer than citrus' pulp.
"I'll be strong, my dear. I'll be strong…"
She cried a little harder. "My beloved, am I so weak? I had promised, but…Oh, I'm so scared!...I…
I'm worse that a frightened child, aren't I? I can't even…keep a promise…", she tightened her eyes and bit her lower lip, "A promise made to you!"
"I'll be strong, my dear. I'll be strong…"
"Please don't be mad at me for this, I…", she tightened her fists, squeezing the reins in her finger, till her hand remained bloodless.
"He's right, you know? Your son is right, we human are frail, we're so fearful…Because now, all I see, all I can think about, is that…Is that I want to see you again! I want to be in your arms, to be held by you for the entire night. I want to see the countryside with you, to pursue the butterflies with you. I want to taste again your sweetness, which is only for me. I want, I…
…I'm afraid of dieing, my love. This is the truth. I'm afraid of not being able to see you…one more time…!"
"Then Sesshoumaru will protect you".
"What? What have you…?"
"Then Sesshoumaru will protect you".
She jumped. "You're right". Her visage lightened. "You've entrusted my person to him. Is your faith in him so unlimited?" The woman, slowly, opened her almond eyes; everything was still, yet: the boughs, the leaves, the grass… She observed the youth, whom back faced her, for a long, long time. She beheld his silver cascade, his pelt, his armor, his firm grip on his sword, ready to receive the attack. He reminded her so badly of the man she had left only that morning and whom she already missed.
"You've faith in him. And…I trust you, darling. If you trust him, then…I believe him, I've faith in him, I trust him. I'll be loyal to him and I'll try to be helpful. I can't say I'm not dreading what's going to happen here, it would be a lie. But I know…I know you long to see me again, maybe more than I can even imagine. And, so", she determined, "I will support him". She gripped both horses' reins, ready to respond to every single signal.
"Izayoi?"
"Nanì?"
"Aishiteiru".
…
"Prince…"
Branches sagged under the weight of invisible foes. He spotted the flashes of metallic objects, not sure to be so curious about their sources…
"Stop bickering, woman. It's time".
She didn't retort: he was right, she had not to interfere, not to disturb. For the first time, she thought about how hard it had to be for him to have the mission to protect her, the person he hated the most in the entire world. And she felt a warm smile gracing her countenance.
Red eyes sparkled in the darkness, too many to count.
He tightened the grasp on his sword's hilt. No doubts anymore, no anxiety, either. Calm, composedness. Narrowing his acute eyes, he made out the vague figures of unknown enemies.
"Now I will fight".
End Chapter
NOTES:
GETA wooden clogs
DAMARE (the accent is on the final "e") Be silent! (Imperative form of "damaru" to be silent)
