Chapter Eight:

Prisoner of Ruin

Kasumi sucked in a breath at the sight before her. It had been a couple of months since she was gone, but nothing of her lovely home remained. The once intimidating structure was nothing more than crumbling ruins, walls singed black from fire, freshly covered graves littered the front grounds, the walls that were supposed to protect them from invasions were broken, crumbling on nearly all sides.
She swallowed hard, her grip on the horse's reins tightening in her hand. Slowly, she walked past the lines of graves to the steps that lead to the inside of the manor. She tied the horse off on a broken post and wandered over the threshold. The smell of smoke and death still lingered in the air, even after so long. She walked through the broken hall, climbing over sunken in floors and fallen roof beams. She walked through what used to be the family wing of the house, past Kyah's old room. She tried opening it, but the sliding door wouldn't budge. Even when she tried to pull off the paper and climb through she discovered it was almost entirely blocked by a collapsed wooden beam.
When she passed by her mother's room, the very room she had died in, she paused. She sensed something beyond the doors, and carefully opened it, and peered inside. The room was virtually unscathed, even the futon her mother had passed on was still laid out in the center of the tatami mats. She could sense an intense spiritual energy from it, and made small steps towards it. When she was at the futons edge, she knelt down, staring at the covered cushion. She sat for only a few minutes before she eventually saw her mother. She was ethereal, and didn't seem to notice Kasumi at first. She was holding someone in her arms; a young man she didn't recognize. The man was sobbing quietly, and Yuriko was comforting him, soothing him by rubbing his back and hair.
"Oh, Kazuhiro..." Yuriko whispered softly to the sobbing young man, and Kasumi's eyes went wide at the name. Kazuhiro Ishikawa. Her lord and father, in ethereal form being held by her mother's spirit. "I'm not angry at you, my husband." Yuriko continued on, soothing the crying man. "You raised our daughter into such a beautiful woman." Her eyes moved up to Kasumi, and smiled softly. "She is our daughter, even if she is not biologically yours. You did so well, my dear. I'm not angry. I am happy to see the woman she has become. I am happy you let her live after my sinful ways." She kissed his forehead and Ishikawa held his wife tightly.
"Yuriko, I'm so sorry my love. I'm so sorry..." he said, repeating the words as if they were a mantra.
"I know my dear. I forgive you. I love you. I do. I promise you, I love you." She said softly into his hair. They held each other for a few moments longer until they both slowly began to dissipate. Eventually, Kasumi was staring at the blank floor, the futon as much of a phantasm as the two spirits had been.
So it was true. This was proof that what Takami said was true.
Before she could even blink, tears began to stream down her cheeks, a choked, almost mangled sounding sob springing past her lips. She quickly clamped a hand over her mouth to stop anymore from coming out. She sat hunched over, quietly sobbing into her hand as her tears fell from her cheeks, and onto the floor. Everything she had known, everything she loved, gone.
She sat like that for hours, well into the morning light that basked the room in warm colors. She was stunned into utter silence. At first, she could scarcely comprehend the predicament she found herself in, homeless, fatherless, without knowledge of how to function as a normal, functioning member of society. Her mind drifted to thoughts of the young Lord Takami, thinking of that marriage she dreaded, wondering what it would hold for her now if she were to accept. Would she really marry him just for her own self-preservation? She had done so when she followed the bandits and allowed them to treat her like a slave. Was Takami really any different?
She shook her head at that thought, reminding herself that at least Kaneshi, despite his foul appearance and behavior, still respected her virtue enough to keep his hands off her. Obviously Takami didn't believe in virtue.
When morning waned into early afternoon, Kasumi pulled herself off the floor, ignoring the ache's and pain in her legs from sitting for too long, as well as the soreness that came from riding a horse for too many hours. She half walked, half wobbled her way out of her mother's room, looking side to side before eventually convincing herself to leave the ruined manor.
She barely made it outside before she was suddenly grabbed around the waist and hauled up. She screamed, loudly, and a rough hand clamped over her mouth, ceasing any sound coming from her. She struggled and fought, kicking her legs and flailing her arms, attempting to pry the hairy arm from around her waist with a vain effort. Even when she tried to muster up some of her demon strength she was useless.
"Quiet down, brat." A harsh growl of a voice snarled in her ear.
She looked up to see the face of a rough, dirty looking demon, with sharp fangs, pointed ears, and piercing slanted grey eyes. She couldn't tell if he was fox or wolf, couldn't see much of him from his hold on her, and she glared at him. She opened her mouth as wide as she could manage, and bit into his palm. He growled at her, and thrashed her around a bit till her movements stilled.
Satisfied by her state of dizziness, the canine carried her off. He took her a good several miles away from the estate before she regained her composure, and she reached up, and as hard as she could, socked him in his cheek bone. Pain shot through her fingers and knuckles, her hand aching immediately after the contact, but it served her purpose. She had punched him hard enough he stopped, trying to recollect himself. She took that chance and elbowed him in the sternum.
He dropped her to grab his chest, reeling from the pain, and then growled lowly as she scrambled to get away from him. The girl he had captured before was no more, instead replaced by the demoness his master was seeking out. All of Kasumi's illusions fell through, revealing her true nature. White blonde hair and ears, black ends, sharp claws and teeth, and slanted emerald eyes.
"Do not lay your hands on me, you, filthy demon." She growled at him.
The man snickered at her reaction, amused at the thought of trying to pin down his master's daughter. He jumped at her, claws ready to snag and rip, but she moved quickly out of the way, and slammed her foot into his rib cage, possibly breaking or at the very least bruising something in him. Angered, he jumped up and tackled her, slamming her back into the ground, and then picking her up and throwing her a good few feet till her back smacked into a nearby boulder with a loud crack.
Rapid, searing pain incased her back, the air from her lungs sucked out of her in a single sharp second, and she gasped to collect more. She hunched over onto her hands and knees, desperately attempting to catch her breath, even as the pain swept through her each time. What was she thinking, fighting a demon? She couldn't win something like this.
No, she told herself. She refused to allow herself to be taken as a prisoner again, even if it meant she died protecting herself, she wouldn't let herself be held against her will. She slowly stood up, clutching her side with her clawed fingers, and looked up at her current enemy.
Amusement was written all over his face. The girl may look like his master, but she was a Halfling, and wouldn't serve any purpose to the kitsune household. He admired her tenacity to continue to fight him, but he would kill her, and then tell his lord he found her dead. Whatever state he brought the body back in, would depend on the girl and her ability to fend him off. He ran towards her, drawing out the short sword at his side and lunged, reaching to stab the pathetic creature before him in the heart. He was all ready to feel the blade sinking into flesh and plunging into the depth of her vital organ, was ready for the stench of her mixed blood and her pain filled cry.
So it came to a shock to him that her frail boney looking fingers were capable of stopping him from that satisfaction.
Kasumi had her hand wrapped around his wrist that held his sword, the digits a blindingly blue and alight with fox magic, claws sinking in to his own flesh. The blue flames wrapped around his skin, singeing the flesh and quickly traveling up his arm. At first, the pain didn't register, but it didn't take long till he could feel his skin melting at her touch. He tried yanking himself free, but she fought hard to keep a hold on him. When he realized his own fight would be useless, he tried lunging at her, using as much brute strength as he could to push the girl back into a tree, the tip of his sword inching towards her chest. He felt the sharp edge slip past the first layers of her skin, heard her hiss of pain, and he pushed further until that hiss became a cry. Yet still, she would not let go.
He had the full pointed tip fully in her chest now, half the blade covered by cloth when he was suddenly kicked from the side, his hold on the sword slipping as he flew several feet, shoulder skidding against the grass, lung collapsing on itself, just from the full force of the attack.
Kasumi's grip was yanked free, blood coating her fingertips, and she sank to her knees. She stared crosseyed at the hilt of the wakizashi*, eyes blurring, red seeping into her vision. She saw a blurred white hakama and black boots in her vision, and growled to herself. With shaking fingers, she grasped the hilt with both hands, and dislodged the blade from her chest. She cried out, unable to help it as blood began to freely stain her clothes. She looked up slowly, gasping for air, eyes slowly trailing up white and red and black cloth and armor, till they settled on the cold golden gaze of her interferer. Something about the man seemed otherworldly, as he was far too beautiful to possibly be alive. He had long silver locks falling down his back, two purple stripes across his cheek bones, a moon on the center of his forehead, and his skin was as pale as snow, and fur draped over one shoulder. He bore demons armor over a white and red kimono, and had two swords at his hip. He wasn't looking at her, instead he was faced against the man he just sent flying, anger and annoyance radiating off of him, but she couldn't fathom why. He wrapped his hand around the hilt of his sword, and she understood in one flash of a second what he was going to do.
She jumped up fast enough her head spun with pain, and grabbed his sword arm to stop him. "Don't you dare kill him." She half growled. "Don't interfere." An unreadable expression crossed his features, as he looked down at her again, gaze cold. Wordlessly, he stared at her, and Kasumi didn't register that she should probably be afraid of this man. Slowly, he slid the sword back into its holster, eyes never leaving her face, as if expecting her to say or do something. A few quiet minutes passed until the silver haired demon turned and walked away, promptly taking his arm from her grasp, and the demon kidnapper groaned his awareness. Kasumi continued to watch the silver haired man, before she finally turned her gaze to the crumpled mess of her current attempted kidnapper.

Author Note:

Wakizashi: Essentially a short katana