AN: Just consider this an extension of the Mommy's/Daddy's girl prompt, haha.
Chapter 6: The Struggle is Real
Setsuna stood frozen.
For all he knew, he hadn't seen his daughter in six weeks, and those were his first words to her? Not, "Welcome home," or "I've missed you"?
Granted, from the reception her grandmother had given her, she probably shouldn't have expected anything different. Still, the realization made her heart ache once more for her mother.
Regardless…she had finally seen Sesshoumaru in person. She knew she was supposed to answer him, but all she could do was stare at him. He looked no different than he did in the photo in her scrapbook—same pale, unlined face; same long, glittering silver hair; same clear, golden gaze—except that the warm honey eyes from her portrait had been replaced with hard chips of gold and a harsh crease bisecting his brow.
Why is he upset?
She was rather proud of herself, actually. She had just executed a Wind Scar powerful enough to send a full-blooded demon flying. Weren't demons supposed to admire power?
She replayed his words in her head: Where did you learn that?
She had learned it from her uncle.
Oh.
So the disdain Uncle Inuyasha had for her father was mutual.
But more than that…have I revealed myself not two days into this charade?
Setsuna often found that the best course of action was simply to stay silent. So she did.
Her father held her stare for several seconds, and apparently when he saw no answer was forthcoming, he barked out, "Come," turned around, and walked off. Setsuna grabbed the sheath to Towa's sword—named Zanseiken, she now recalled—and trotted off after Sesshoumaru, wondering what he meant to say.
He led her out of the arena, past the stables, and into the forest beyond. In all that time, he didn't ask her any questions, and she didn't offer any answers. As the forest canopy closed around them, the sweet scent of pine enveloped Setsuna, and she breathed it deep into her lungs. The smell of the forest had always been one of her favorite parts about camping with her uncle. It wiped away the memories of trash, baking asphalt, car exhaust, and body odor that coated the city like scum.
Setsuna enjoyed the quiet walk for a few minutes, but the deeper they went into the forest, the more the silence chafed at her. Under normal circumstances, she would enjoy this quiet camaraderie, but having finally met her father after fourteen years, she was bursting with questions for him.
But she would not break the silence until he did.
All of the sudden, he stopped and turned to face her. This part of the forest appeared no different than the rest, so she did not understand what made him finally halt. Nevertheless, as his gaze turned to take her measure, her heart pounded in fear of what he would say.
"You met Inuyasha."
Setsuna nodded.
When she didn't say anything, he added, "And he taught you the Wind Scar?"
She nodded again. It was true, after all, even if he hadn't taught it to her at camp specifically.
His brows creased again. "Why do you not say anything?"
Because she found she didn't want to talk about the Wind Scar or Uncle Inuyasha. But what she wanted to say was something she was to embarrassed to say to her estranged father.
But remember you are Towa. You can say anything.
So, Setsuna let go of her reservations and embraced the ways of her sister. She launched herself at him, being careful of his spiked pauldron as she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into Mokomoko. She inhaled, and a sense of calm washed through her. Yes, his scent was strongest right here. It had faded so much on her own piece of Mokomoko that had suffered years of being smothered by her as well as repeated washings.
"I missed you…Papa."
A hand came up and brushed against her cropped hair—still a very new sensation she was getting used to. "It has not been the same without you," he answered.
Setsuna hid a smile against his Mokomoko. He did not say the words, "I love you," but she felt it in his touch, and his way of deflecting from emotional utterances was uncomfortably familiar. Finally, the pieces of herself were starting to fit together. She had always wondered why she was so different from her upbeat mother, teenage moodiness aside.
When Setsuna pulled away, keeping her arms wrapped around him, she dared to look up and make eye contact from so close. She scanned his face, memorizing the lay of his markings and exactly what shade of gold his eyes really were, unfiltered by an aged photograph.
"Did you find Setsuna?" he asked then. She pulled away, startled at hearing herself talked about as if she wasn't there.
"Yes."
His eyes closed in what appeared to be relief. "So she is safe."
"Yes."
"And your mother? Is she well?"
"Yes. A-According to Setsuna," she tacked on, hoping to cement her role as Towa.
"Tell me about your sister," he said, turning back to continuing walking deeper into the forest.
That was a broad question. She didn't know how to start. "What would you like to know?"
"Anything."
Setsuna trailed after him. "Well…she loves music. Her favorite thing is to play the violin. Do you…know what that is?" It was strange to talk about herself in the third person, but her heart trilled at the thought that her father wanted to know about her.
"I am aware. Your mother always had a fondness for music as well. I always came upon her singing to herself—or you. What else?"
Setsuna dropped her gaze to the ground as she thought about what else to share. She watched the tail of his fur float over the ground, defying gravity as it waged gently, and suddenly, she had it. "Well…her most treasured possession is her Mokomoko—the little bit of fur you gave her. She's never slept a day without it." Until now. But with her father home and the donor fur within reach, she no longer felt bereft.
Sesshoumaru stopped and peered down at her. "She said that?"
Setsuna nodded. "She even brought it to camp. That was how T—I confirmed who she was. I could smell you on it."
He looked away then, off into the distance. South, she realized, towards the Wall. "So she does not resent me?"
Setsuna frowned. "She has no reason to. She understands why you and Mo—Mama were separated."
"Did she know about you?"
Setsuna shook her head. "No. She was…rather shocked when I told her. But I brought the photo album as proof, and she couldn't deny it."
"How did you meet?"
Setsuna told the story succinctly, trying hard to put herself in Towa's place instead of her own. It was rather humiliating to recount her own loss at Towa's hands during the ropes course, but at the same time, she knew Towa would want to impress their father with her triumph.
To her surprise, he said, "I am pleased that growing up among humans did not soften her entirely."
Determined to show herself in a better light, Setsuna added, "Uncle Inuyasha taught her. He took her camping every year and showed her ways to embrace her abilities, even though she couldn't use them much in the city where they live."
Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed. "Uncle Inuyasha."
This time, it was Setsuna's turn to frown. "Yes…that is what he is."
Sesshoumaru scoffed. "You appear to have grown close to him in so short a time—enough to call him uncle and learn his favored attack, the Wind Scar."
"Is there something wrong with that?"
Her father didn't answer.
"I treated him the same way Moroha treats you."
A single huff of laughter escaped his throat. "That I doubt."
The urge to defend her uncle bubbled in Setsuna's heart. "He helped raise her, you know. He was the father Setsuna never got to have."
Sesshoumaru stopped again and snapped his head towards her. Setsuna fought the urge to flinch back, locking her muscles to stand her ground. This was her father, after all. He wouldn't hurt her.
Finally, he closed his eyes and sighed. "Then his debt is repaid."
Setsuna spent the rest of the afternoon hiking the forest with her father and recounting her time at camp while peppering it with stories about her and her mother—told through Towa's lens, of course. Unlike her mother, who wanted to know every single detail, her father seemed content with her typical "less is more" approach. Sometimes, they even walked in silence for several minutes, simply taking in nature before he would ask another question.
Now that she had gotten so much off her chest, she no longer minded the silences. They didn't always need to talk. For the first time since coming North, she no longer felt anxious about being in an unfamiliar land, living with strangers.
Rather, she finally felt happy, because the fact that Sesshoumaru had put off an entire day's worth of work just to spend time with her spoke even more than his litany of concise questions did.
The morning after Towa returned from camp, she sat on the couch, slowly figuring out how to work the marvelous invention that was the TV while her mother was getting ready to go downstairs and open the flower shop. Towa still had two days left before school started, and she planned to spend every waking minute with her mother. They were going to work together at the shop in the morning, and then Aunt Kagome would take over for the afternoon while the two of them went out to spend an afternoon in town. Rin had mentioned something about eating at a restaurant and shopping and seeing a movie. Towa had no idea what to expect, but she would do anything if it meant spending time with her mother.
Just then, Rin walked into the living room, wearing a plain forest-green shirt and dark jeans. "Ready to head down, sweetheart?"
"Yes!" Towa announced, turning off the TV and hopping up.
Rin laughed. "My goodness, you're so excited today!"
Realizing she needed to tone down her natural fervor, Towa turned her head away, as Setsuna often did when embarrassed, and pouted. "I'm just…happy to be spending some one-on-one time with you, Mother."
"Oh baby, I'm excited too!" she said, coming over and kissing the crown of Towa's head. "We're going to have to have so much fun this afternoon—you'll see. I know you don't like shopping, but you do need some new clothes. I figured the movie could be your reward for putting up with it." She winked.
Rin brought her down to the shop, and they entered through the side door beneath the stairs. Her mother immediately handed her a green apron emblazoned with the shop name on it. "Let's get the morning watering done before we open up."
Watering gave Towa an excuse to gaze at her mother's little shop in awe. She must have worked so hard to be able to get this going. Towa sprayed down the succulents, admiring the tiny, cute plants both potted in singular pinch pots, clumped together in large dishes, and glued against hanging driftwood boards in arrangements. These aren't just plants, Towa realized. They're works of art.
The orchids in which she dropped ice cubes were also perfectly supported and arched to maximize their grace. The bursting pots of plants—meandering Mandeville, dazzling dahlias, buxom begonias, and more—lining the sidewalk and foundation of the store that Towa watered with the hose brought bright pops of color to an otherwise dull street. The few people who walked or jogged past as she watered had no choice but to look at the plants on display. A couple even told her they'd be back when the store opened for the day.
My Mama is so amazing, Towa thought with pride as she took in the shop's façade. She built this up from having nothing. The disparity between Setsuna's and her living arrangements had not been lost on her. According to Setsuna, this three-story walkup was the largest home they had ever had, and it took amazing effort on her mother's, aunt's, and uncle's parts to make it a reality. Having grown up surrounded by vast, empty rooms and grandiose opulence, it humbled Towa to realize that even though her sister had been lucky enough to grow up in a world of modern conveniences, she had not had the luxuries Towa's status as a princess afforded her.
Not to say that her Papa wasn't also amazing (he was the strongest demon on the island, she was proud to say, although Kirinmaru might dispute that)—he was just amazing in a different way.
After they opened the store, the bell over the door dinged not five minutes later.
An unfamiliar voice exclaimed, "Rin, have you seen the paper this morning?" Towa turned around to find a woman with a long, brunette ponytail and wearing pink eye shadow throw a paper down on the front counter in front of her mother.
"Well, good morning to you too, Sango," Rin laughed. She looked down and shook her head. "No, we hadn't seen it—we don't have a subscription. Why?"
"Look!" Sango said, flipping on page over. "Setsuna's on page three! Page three. And it says here she has a sister?"
Towa froze—as did her mother. "W-What?"
"This is an article on the conclusion of Councilor Shiori's half-demon camp, and here's a picture of Setsuna in tears hugging a white-haired girl. Hisui almost died of shock when he saw it!"
"Tears?" Rin repeated, looking down at the article.
Oops, Towa thought, walking over to look.
"So is it true? Does Setsuna have a twin sister?" Sango asked.
Rin was silent for several seconds before admitting, "Yes, it's true. Her…father had to take her."
Sango's face crumpled. "Rin, I'm so sorry. This must be so upsetting to you. I didn't even think—I was just so shocked. I'm also…surprised you never told me."
Rin glanced over a Towa, and in a lower, guilt-laden voice, she said, "I didn't tell Setsuna either. She found out at camp."
Sango turned to look at Towa, who stood behind her, looking over her shoulder at the article. "Oh…. I-I see. Well, um…I just wanted to bring this over for you guys. You can keep it. Rin, we need to get together soon. Just us, okay?"
Rin smiled. "Yes, I'd like that."
Sango left after that, and Rin said to Towa, "Go get your aunt and uncle. They'll want to see this." Towa ran upstairs. Even though her uncle had just gotten home from work an hour ago and laid down to sleep, he jumped up when he heard Towa talking to Aunt Kagome and came down with them.
Rin had the front page of the newspaper unfolded and waiting for them when they arrived. There, beneath the headline of "Shiori: 'Camp Half-Demon was a success,'" lay a photo of Shiori speaking at the podium as well as the group shot the campers had taken at orientation.
Towa spotted herself and Moroha right away. "There I—er, are Towa and Moroha! And…." She scanned the photo, easily spotting Rion's red head and finding Setsuna next to her. "And here I am."
"We're going to need more copies of this," Aunt Kagome murmured.
They read through the beginning of the article, which quoted Shiori about the mission of the camp and her hopes to bring awareness to the plight of half-demons. The article then went on to describe how one of those issues were broken families—as made apparent through two intertwined stories at the camp.
They turned to page three to continue the article, where they could finally analyze the photo that had brought Sango bursting into the store. The family friend had, however, forgotten to mention one detail.
"It's Moroha!" Kagome gasped, yanking the newspaper over so she could see her baby. She read the caption out loud. "'Estranged twins Setsuna (left) and Towa (right) bid a tearful farewell with their cousin, Moroha (center), the latter two of whom return to the North.'"
Rin reached over her shoulder and pointed at a subhead reading: A bittersweet reunion. "It talks about all of you here. And it…." She sucked in a breath. "It mentions Sesshoumaru. It says he's your father." She looked up at Towa. "Did you tell them that?"
Towa nodded. "We all had interviews at the camp. They're putting together a documentary about the whole thing."
"Not sure when it's going to air though," Inuyasha supplied.
"Here it is!" Kagome interjected. "It's supposed to air at the end of the month on Nihon News."
"Nihon News?" Rin echoed. "That's huge. The whole nation may very well tune into this."
"Damn, Shiori's not pulling any punches," Inuyasha remarked. "I just hope she knows what she's doing, putting all this out there."
"No…this is good," Rin answered, her brows furrowed in determination. "This article is already highlighting the fact that families were separated on Closing Day. Think about what a whole documentary promoting half-demons can do."
"I sure hope you're right. Because this could backfire pretty hard in our faces," Inuyasha griped.
"Inuyasha, don't be so negative! We have to have faith. Or don't you want to see our little girl again? Kagome snapped.
A flash of hurt crossed his face. "Of course I do, Kagome."
"Good. Then the first thing you can do to show our support is to go buy more copies of this newspaper. Get one for each of us." She smiled at Towa. "I'm sure you'll want it for your scrapbook, right?"
Towa nodded absently. This article had been an unexpected gift. The documentary would hopefully another, but a month was a long time to wait for it. She needed a plan….
Just then, the door dinged, and a customer walked in. Towa walked over to greet her with a smile.
The plans would have to wait. Today, at least, she was going to get to know her mother. She deserved that much.
The dream that had been her weekend quickly morphed into a waking nightmare Sunday night.
She hadn't had a care in the world for two days. Her trip into town with Mama had been one of the best days of her life. They went to an Italian restaurant (which Mama claimed was Setsuna's favorite food), and Towa herself became enamored of the foreign fare. Then they went shopping at a five-level department store that contained so many goods for sale, Towa got overwhelmed just by the sheer selection.
She had to remind herself that the racks of short-sleeved shirts, shorts, and skirts were all more than appropriate on this side of the Wall. (Well, that wasn't to say there weren't scantily clad demons in the North—her father and Grandmother just would have had her wardrobe burnt if she ever dared to wear such clothing.)
So she shopped with abandon, admiring the cute outfits on manikins and trying to recreate them with what she found. She didn't get anything too scandalous, of course—she had seen her mother and Aunt Kagome dressed on the more conservative side—but she was definitely going to show more skin than she had in her entire life.
Her enthusiasm baffled her mother, but Rin took it in stride and started offering suggestions, telling her how cute she would look in something. And since her mother said she would look cute, Towa was more than willing to try those clothes on.
Armed with shopping bags after what her mother called the easiest shopping experience with Setsuna ever, they dropped them off in a locker at the train station and then went to the theater. They ended up watching a historical drama that apparently was supposed to contain enough action and romance to satisfy both Rin and Setsuna. Towa had thought she too would prefer the action, but after overcoming her shock at how big a screen the movie was on (and the delicious taste of buttery popcorn), she found herself engrossed in the love lives of the main characters, her emotions bouncing all over the place as the movie progressed. She and her mother gushed about it the entire train ride home.
"I'm so glad we saw the movie, sweetheart. You always say romance scenes are too gushy, but I guess this one was tasteful enough for you?"
"Yes!" Towa answered. She was doing a terrible job of being Setsuna, but her mother seemed happy, and that was what mattered to her most.
On Sunday, the family spent the day together, first doing chores around the house but then using the afternoon to play board games and watch their Sunday night shows.
Towa felt like life couldn't get any better until Rin shut off the TV and rubbed her shoulder. "Well, best get to bed, sweetheart, so you're well-rested for your first day back tomorrow."
Towa's heart dropped.
She had forgotten all about school.
Am I ready for this?
Just one weekend out on the town had shown Towa that she still had much to learn about modern life in the South. How was she going to cope with modern academia?
A fluttering heart set her blood thrumming the entire night, so that no matter how she tried to relax in bed, all she could feel was her blood rushing and pulse pounding. Her chest felt too tight, and to ease it, she tried to lay on her back and take deep breaths, like she would before a fight.
It was so strange. She had been in so many battles that could have maimed her or ended her life, but those had brought thrills rather than fear.
So why did the thought of attending school bring on night sweats?
Her mother noticed when Towa dragged herself to the kitchen table the following morning and let her head fall against it.
"Sweetie, are you okay? Did you not sleep well?"
"Not at all," Towa groaned.
"What's the matter? Are you sick?" Rin asked, coming over and pulling her up to feel Towa's forehead.
"No. I'm just…worried about school."
"Why is that? You did your summer reading, didn't you?"
Summer reading? "Uh…."
Rin frowned in thought. "I could have sworn you told me you did the report and everything before you left for camp."
"Right…" Towa murmured. "But it's been so long I…forgot a lot of it."
"Oh dear. Well, I suppose it's understandable. You had a lot of excitement this summer." She leaned down then and in a conspiratorial whisper, said, "Just fake it till you make it, sweetie."
Towa burst out laughing. Her mom always knew how to make her smile. She loved her for it.
"Did I hear someone say she forgot her summer reading?" Aunt Kagome asked, coming into the kitchen. "That doesn't sound like you! Well, anyway, what did you have to read? Maybe we can give you a crash course."
Towa floundered again. "Uh…."
"Wasn't it The Tale of Genji? I remember having to go pick that up at the used book store," Rin answered.
"Oh!" Aunt Kagome piped up. "I sort of remember that! It's the world's first novel, isn't it? Genji is the emperor's son, I think, and he gets disowned and demoted to a commoner, and it goes on to detail his love life. Lots of description of Heian court customs. I do recall skimming over that. Those were the boring parts."
"Heian court customs?" Towa asked, her ears perking up. While her own studies had focused more on the history of the demon lands, since they were so entwined with the human ones, she had studied the histories of both countries. Demons may not have revered human literature, preferring to study their own texts, but she knew when the Heian period was, and she was very familiar with court life.
Maybe school wouldn't be so bad after all.
Towa wanted to cry. School was going to eat her alive faster than a dragon demon swallowing her whole.
She had had no problem finding St. Gabriel's Academy (Setsuna had given her very in-depth directions), but it felt like no sooner had she stepped on campus than the whispers started.
Granted, she was gawking, so that could have been part of it.
Still, her demonic hearing picked up the words that were supposed to stay hidden from her.
"Is that her? The half-demon?"
"I knew it! I swore I saw her here last term. She's the only one who can get away with those red streaks in her hair. What makes her so lucky?"
"She's a half-demon. You don't cross those."
"Have you ever talked to her?"
Towa shook her head, trying to tune them all out. Was this was Setsuna dealt with every day? She looked around, trying to spot anyone whose face lit up in recognition, but most people glanced away when she made eye contact.
Did Setsuna not have any friends?
Don't worry about that right now. Focus on finding your class.
According to Setsuna's note, she was in classroom 1-4, but the building was so large, she had no idea where to even start. After finally finding the classroom, she was told off for having her shoes on, so she had to go and discover where Setsuna's locker was (a kind student helped her when she said she couldn't remember).
Then began her own personal tour of the eight hells.
The first hell was math. Towa felt prepared for arithmetic—she had studied her sums, after all, and could do complicated calculations in her head, since she needed to handle territorial affairs, including organizing budgets and battlefields—but when she opened the book entitled "Algebra I," what stared back at her were foreign markings.
What the hell did ax2+bx+c=0 mean? Why was there only one number—and a non-number at that?
The teacher passed out a quiz (apparently a modern word for a short test) to see what knowledge they had retained over the summer. Towa couldn't write down one answer. She couldn't even puzzle out what the problems were asking for.
After that disaster came English. The only redeeming part of that class was that she finally understood where the abc xyz nonsense in algebra came from.
The teacher barely spoke a word of Japanese. Towa didn't even realize he had asked them to open their books to a specific page until she saw everyone else doing so. She glanced around to figure out what page it was, but it hardly helped her. Most of what was written on the page was in English.
To her horror, he called on one student after the other to stand up and read aloud from the book. Towa tried to follow along—to make sense of these new sounds and how they might translate to this new script—but it was so different from Japanese, she couldn't make heads or tails of it. Her stomach coiled and knotted like a pit of vipers as her turn came closer and closer.
"Miss Watanabe?" he called out, and it took Towa a second to remember that that was her mother's maiden name, i.e. Setsuna's last name. She stood up, holding the book in shaking hands.
She wished her mother's advice worked in this instance. Sorry, Mama, but I can't fake this.
Or could she?
"Miss Watanabe, is something the matter?" the teacher asked.
"Sensei, I'm sorry, but…I'm not feeling well," she said, taking deep breaths and letting her hands shake in greater exaggeration.
Perhaps it was all that coupled with the supreme bags under her eyes that sold it. "Then you should go to the nurse's office, Miss Watanabe."
Towa took her gift of freedom and ran with it. She wandered the empty halls, trying to memorize where everything was while she had the chance. Eventually, she spiraled up a set of stairs and discovered that a door to the roof was unlocked. As soon as the breeze hit her face, dispelling the stuffy school air from her lungs, she smiled. This was exactly the medicine she needed.
She stayed up there until the bell rang, then hurried back to her classroom. Blessedly, history was next, and at least this much she could understand because she actually spoke the language. They were covering Japanese history as well, so it was something she was already familiar with.
Next came literature, and to her glee, she found Setsuna had indeed proven an overachiever and done her summer reading report ahead of time. She scanned it as the class president collected homework, and combined with Aunt Kagome's little summary, it proved just enough to help her.
Even so, she hadn't expected to shine in this class.
"Now, you'll recall that the version of The Tale of Genji you read is not the original," the teacher lectured. "It was first translated into modern Japanese in the early 20th century by poet Akiko Yosano. The original text is written so archaically, it is almost unreadable without proper study. Take a look at the passage excerpt on page two of the introduction." Towa did, finding a scanned image of a handwritten passage. There didn't seem to be anything remarkable about it. Honestly, she had had to decipher worse handwriting. "Can any of you read it?"
There were various grumbles—some people saying they could make out a kana or two, others remarking on the terrible handwriting, and still others grunting and laying their heads on their desks.
Towa bit her lip. Ah, to heck with it. She raised her hand, as she had seen some other students do in her previous classes. The teacher smiled. "I should have guessed. Yes, Miss Watanabe?"
Towa stood up. "They appear to be two poetic verses. The first one reads, 'Your garden quietly awaits the spring. / Permit the winds to bring a touch of autumn.' And the second, 'Fleeting, your leaves that scatter in the wind. / The pine at the cliffs is forever green with the spring."
"I'm impressed—excellent job, Miss Watanabe! Indeed, this passage comes from a scene where Akikonomu and Murasaki exchange banter through poetry…."
Having proven her worth that class, Towa did not feel the need to volunteer to answer at any other time, which suited her just fine. She hadn't read the book, after all.
When it was time for lunch, Towa sighed in relief. Thank goodness. A break.
Except apparently, the keepers of hell decided to torture her futher.
No sooner had Towa taken out the bento box her mother had prepared for her than a couple girls came to sit in the desks surrounding her. She looked up in surprise. Had she finally found Setsuna's elusive friends?
"We saw your picture on the internet," one of the girls sporting a hideous tan said.
"Uh…you did?" Towa answered, biting down on a little egg omelet.
"Yeah. Did you not see it posted on the class chat? Everyone was waiting for you to chime in and confirm the news," another girl in bold, red glasses asked.
Is that was all of the recent dings and notifications on Setsuna's phone had been about? A veritable flood of them had overwhelmed the phone when she crossed into the South, and she had ignored every single one since, except for any that came through from her family.
"So is it true? You were separated from your sister at birth?" Glasses Girl pressed.
Towa frowned. "Not at birth, but…when we were babies, yes."
"And you didn't even know?" Glasses Girl replied.
Towa shook her head.
"Yikes. Talk about an awkward talk to have with mom. Were you mad at her?"
Towa pursed her lips, not enjoying these strangers prying into her personal life. But if Setsuna knew them…. "A little. But I understood."
Super Tan added, "So, it said your dad was some hot-shot general in the demon army or something? I've never heard of him, but my dad had. He said he was just brutal. Absolutely hated humans."
Towa froze, speaking through gritted teeth. "He's not like that anymore."
"But like, how do you know?" Super Tan continued. "You've never met him, right? I mean, honestly, I wouldn't have blamed your mom if she ran away from him."
"She didn't run away!" Towa snapped, slapping her chopsticks down on her desk. "My parents love each other, so stop talking about it like you know them!"
The whole room went silent, and everyone turned to stare at Towa. Super Tan's and Glasses Girl's eyes widened, and they glanced at each other. "Uhh…sorry." They quickly vacated the seats, leaving a wide space around Towa.
She glared at the rest of the students staring at her, prompting them to turn back to their lunches. Towa sighed and looked back down at the delicious lunch her mother had made for her with love. But she had lost her appetite.
Which proved her undoing in P.E. next hour. The good news? She had finally found a class she could excel at without effort. The bad news? She was so hungry, her stomach felt like it was caving in on itself, and the hunger pangs leeched her of energy, making her sluggish and unfocused.
The final class of the day was biology, which both fascinated and utterly confused her. She stared at her arm, trying to see the cells that apparently made up her body, but it appeared even demonic vision was not that powerful. As for what was happening in those cells, that all was lost on her. There were so many unfamiliar terms, Towa didn't understand what the teacher was saying or writing half the time. Luckily, she found the words bolded in the text and discovered by flipping through the book that there were definitions in the back. Granted, half of the definitions didn't make sense either, because they used still more terms with which she was unfamiliar.
By the time school ended, Towa was ready to go home and let her brain leak out of her ears. But as she was heading to the lockers to fetch her shoes, another student stopped her.
"Hey, Watanabe, where are you going? We have kendo club, remember?"
Kendo. Towa remembered that word—they had used kendo swords at camp. Curious, she followed the student to the gym, where a few others had changed into their kendo uniforms and were practicing their strikes against invisible opponents.
Thank you, Setsuna, Towa thought with relief as she went to change. At least this "club" was something she could manage.
Well, sort of. After fifteen minutes of warm-up exercises, the club suited up in protective gear and paired off for sparring matches. During her duel, Towa managed to hit her opponent on the padded shoulder almost immediately. His reaction time was far too slow.
"Your form is excellent, Setsuna, but did you forget the rules over summer break?" the club president asked from the sidelines. "Remember, you need to need to call out the part you intend to hit, or it doesn't count."
"Oh, uh…what are the parts called again?" Towa asked, hating that she was making Setsuna look stupid. Indeed, the club president frowned in confusion but pointed them out to her anyway. Luckily, Towa picked up the rules quickly. This version of dueling was actually fairly simple, because they always stayed in close contact. It was a matter of strength and patience. She had both in spades, even as tired and hungry as she was.
After an hour, she was released to go home. The tang of spices and mellow scent of rice hit her from the street, and her stomach growled in response. Dinner ended up being something called "curry rice," (which her uncle complained burned his tongue with spice, to which Aunt Kagome replied that she had hardly used any spice at all precisely because he was such a big baby about it), but all too soon her reprieve was over, and she trudged to her room to tackle her "homework."
"Don't forget your violin lessons with Aunt Moe start again this week. I want to hear some practicing, since I let you off this weekend!" Rin called out.
Towa got to Setsuna's room and banged her head against the wall.
How am I supposed to play the violin like Setsuna?
She would worry about that later. If being at school all day had taught her anything, it was that her entire life hinged upon the grades she received on her assignments. And apparently, Setsuna had the best.
Towa knew she wasn't going to be able to hit that level, but she would try her hardest not to disappoint Setsuna.
She took care of the easiest assignments first—Japanese literature and history. Science she managed after pouring over the text again and again to find the answers spelled out there. But after that, she had algebra and English left, and she had no idea what to do.
Try algebra. At least it's math. You have a chance….
After an hour of fruitless struggle, she realized she had no chance, and she dropped her head on her desk and cried.
I can't do this. I don't understand any of it! And I'm going to ruin Setsuna's reputation this way! Why did Setsuna even agree to switch places? She must have known this would happen. Should I just go out and reveal everything right now to put an end to this misery?
Her heart clenched at the thought.
But it's only been a few days. I wanted to spend more time with Mama.
Still, she saw no way she could do this. Not only had she underestimated just how packed Setsuna's daily schedule was, but the sheer amount of knowledge she was forced to cram into her skull was insane. It didn't help that there was so much pressure on her to perform well. It was obvious her teachers thought the world of Setsuna. Her peers considered her a cold genius. And if her mother's and aunt's words were any indication this morning, they had high expectations of Setsuna as well.
She's under just as much pressure as I am to be the best, Towa thought sadly, flicking her pen up the desk and watching it roll back towards her. When I get back home, I'll never complain about how long my studies take again. She only ever had to spend a few hours a day on them because she was at an age where she could self-study. Back then, even that had felt like too much; now, she would give anything to return to her own schedule.
A whimsical knock on her door made her look up. She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "Yes?" she asked.
The door opened, and Uncle Inuyasha poked his head in. "Hey, kiddo. I smelled tea—whoa there. Are you okay?" he asked, coming inside and shutting the door behind him.
Towa's reddened eyes welled up again, even though they were still wet. She couldn't help it. She shook her head. "No. I don't understand any of this."
"What, homework? Kid, it's nothing to cry over."
"Yes it is!" Towa answered, hiccupping as more hot tears squeezed out and rolled down her cheeks.
Her uncle's eyes widened in alarm. "Setsuna…I know you like to be the best, but a bad assignment here or there isn't the end of the world." When Towa burst into a heaving sob, Inuyasha winced. "Kid…is this really about homework? Are you sure there isn't…anything else you're upset about?"
"Of course it's about homework! Uncle, what does this even mean?" she asked, thrusting the algebra book in his face. He took it and peered at it.
"Urgh, um, yeah, you'd be better off asking you mom or aunt about this one. I didn't exactly go to school for this, you know?"
"Neither did I!" Towa blurted out before she could think about it.
Inuyasha's brows creased in concern. "What are you talking about? You took pre-algebra last year, didn't you?"
Towa froze, sniffing hard. "I uh…yeah, but…it didn't prepare me well…I guess."
Her uncle peered at her in suspicion. "You were doing just fine before summer."
"I, um…forgot everything over summer." Towa grabbed her ponytail and started running her fingers through the silky strands. Long hair was certainly annoying to keep up with, but it did provide a nice distraction when she was upset—or lying. Of course, Setsuna's long hair—so smooth and shiny like Papa's—was prettier than her own when she let it grow out. Hers was a mess that always curled at the ends, like Mama's. Best just to keep it cut short.
Suddenly, her uncle was in her face, sniffing her. She shoved him back. "Uncle, what are you doing?"
"Making sure you're actually you. Because if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were…. But no, Setsuna would never do something stupid like that."
Towa swallowed the painful lump in her throat. "Stupid like…what?"
Inuyasha leveled her with his golden gaze, and Towa shivered. Here, at least, she could see the similarity between Papa and her uncle. "Stupid like somehow switching places with her sister and crossing a closed border."
"That…that would be stupid, wouldn't it?" Towa mumbled.
Her uncle peered at her again, and she held his gaze, knowing that if she looked away, she could give up the game. Surprisingly, he pulled back first. Towa had to keep from showing an obvious sigh of relief.
Then he glanced over her desk and grabbed one of her textbooks—her English one. Her heart lurched as he flipped it open to a random page, scanned it, and then held it out to her, tapping the top of the page with a talon. "Read that for me, Setsuna."
Towa swallowed, the foreign script on the page blurring before her eyes. "Um…Uncle, we haven't gotten to this part yet. It's…too advanced. I can't read it."
"Says the girl who won the English competition at her junior high all three years. What, you can't even sound out the new words?"
"I…." His stare narrowed into one so reminiscent of her father's that she finally broke under it. She hung her head. "I can't."
"Dammit," her uncle hissed, slinging her book onto her desk. "Towa, is that really you?"
Towa nodded miserably.
"How?" he demanded.
In answer, she brought her hand up to her eye and summoned the silver pearl. Her eye glowed with its power as it appeared, and then her disguise melted away to reveal her true form. Inuyasha sniffed twice and flinched back in amazement.
"Shit. It is you."
Towa nodded again.
"What is that thing?"
"A pearl created by the Shikon Jewel."
"The what?"
"The Shi—"
"I know what it is, Towa! Dammit, how the hell did you girls even get your hands on such a thing?"
"Rion brought it…."
"She's in on this too?"
Towa nodded miserably.
Inuyasha groaned. "And Setsuna? Where is she?"
"With Papa."
Inuyasha clapped a hand over his face and pulled it down, pacing across Setsuna's room. "Dammit all, Towa, do you two have any idea what you've done? How the hell did Setsuna even agree to this in the first place? She should know better!"
Tears sparkled in Towa's eyes once again. "Uncle, please! I just wanted to meet my Mama, and Setsuna wanted to meet Papa!"
"You think I don't understand that? But the border is closed, Towa! How do you expect to go back home? What the hell is your mother going to think when she finds out?"
I just hope she's happy to see me. But I know she'll miss Setsuna and worry about her.
"I promise I'll tell her, but not yet. Please! I…I'm supposed to get Shiori's help when it's time. Setsuna assured me she could help switch us back since we're, uh…illegal."
Inuyasha sat down with a hard creak on Setsuna's bed and propped an elbow on his knee, holding up his head. "We are going to get in serious shit for this, Towa. Do you understand that? It's bad enough we've got two half-demons in the household, but now an illegal entrant? The government's going to be breathing down our backs."
"Uncle, please," Towa said, getting down on her knees and taking his hand in both of hers. "I…I've been thinking. We just need to wait until the documentary airs. It's going to be seen by the whole nation, right? That's what Aunt Kagome said. I mean…my whole class apparently already saw the article about me and Setsuna. They were trying to ask me about it! News here spreads so fast. I understand strategy, Uncle, and using what weapons we have to our advantage. My gut is telling me that the press is our ticket. I mean, governments either use the press as propaganda or fall to it, right? We just need to make sure we make the press spin the narrative our way."
Inuyasha scratched the back of his head with a growl. "I mean, you have a point, but…shit. That's not as easy as it sounds."
"You said it yourself—Shiori is pulling out all the stops. She's also key to making this work in our favor."
Inuyasha sighed. "You two took the mother of all risks, you know that?"
Towa's face set with determination. "But it was a risk worth taking. We need to find a way to bring our family back together, Uncle. Don't you want to see Moroha again?"
Her uncle flinched. "Of course I do. That's a stupid question to ask."
"So help me. Help us. The more of us that band together, the better chance we'll have of succeeding. After all, no one can win a war alone."
Her uncle frowned, crossing his arms and tapping a finger against his bicep. "I mean…the theory's all fine and good, but you can only influence what happens on this side. There's still a whole other country to deal with. Hell, we don't even have a way to communicate with the North. Are you expecting your old man and Setsuna to work something out over there?"
"Yes. Setsuna said she would spur Papa into action, and I have faith in her. I have faith in Papa. He wants to be reunited just as much as we do. I know it."
"Feh. Your faith in him is better than mine."
"Well, I sure hope so! I've lived with him for fourteen years, after all," Towa answered, her frown perking up into a smile.
"Don't know how you put up with the bastard," Inuyasha grumbled.
Towa blew out her cheeks in a pout. "Uncle! You've got to start being nicer to him, or you two will never get along. I know Grandfather made things a mess between you, but don't forget that Papa found and supported Moroha for all these years. The least you could do is give him the benefit of the doubt."
Inuyasha's foot tapped in increasing rhythm as the creases between his brows deepened. "Argh, fine. You've got a point. I'll keep your secret—for now. But we need to start coming up with an actual plan and not just a vague concept. Not exactly my strong suit, but…I'll see what I can do to help."
"Yay, thank you, Uncle!" Towa exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing him. He patted her back a couple times.
"Yeah, yeah. But you owe me, because your aunt's going to kill me when she finds out I've been keeping quiet about all this." When they pulled away, he nodded his head over towards the desk. "And you do realize that the longer you keep this ruse going, the longer you have to suffer through school and homework, right?"
Towa groaned and fell face-first onto the bed.
Inuyasha's hand landed on her back, a warm and comforting weight. "Look, I've got to head to work soon, but the good news is, your sister keeps everything. She's bound to have some of her old school notes around here that could help you out. In the meantime though, trust me when I say the internet has all the answers. You just have to ask the right questions."
Towa popped back up. "I forgot all about the internet!"
Inuyasha smirked. "Now that's something I can help you with." He spent the next few minutes helping her locate videos introducing her to algebra and the English alphabet.
It was a good thing Towa was a half-demon and could get away with less sleep—because she was going to need it to cram.
Setsuna tended to forget to replace her candles—the consequence of growing up in a city where light was available at the flick of a switch.
She had dived into Towa's studies after that first day back, thinking they couldn't be that difficult since modernity had made everything much more complicated by only adding to the curriculum.
She had been wrong.
It wasn't so much a matter of complication as it was unfamiliarity. She could do metric conversions up and down, but figuring out how many sacks of rice made up a koku? She had no idea. (Turned out it was 3,000.)
In the North, they still used the traditional Japanese system of measurement, and although Setsuna had a passing familiarity with the terms themselves (her mother, aunt, and uncle sometimes still used them in speech, since they had grown up in a rural area, where such measurements were still used in agriculture), but to a city girl like her, they meant nothing.
The same went for her war studies. What was the difference between a platoon and a battalion? She had no idea. (Apparently it had to do not only with numbers but who commanded the group of soldiers, and there were so many ways to break down an army, it made her head spin.)
She had had to go digging for any sorts of scrolls or books that would list these units of measurement for her, because once she had a table she could memorize, she would be set. For this reason alone, she was glad that Towa apparently did not have tutors, although her Grandmother threw out the occasional pop quiz debate-style. But she never knew when those quizzes were coming, so she felt the need to be constantly prepared.
That meant she was often burning the candle at both ends (literally), and she would get so engrossed in her studies that her candle would burn low and wink out all of the sudden, prompting her to finally go to bed.
"I've never seen you so studious, Towa," Grandmother said after a week. "You've been staying up awfully late." Inukimi reached out and took Setsuna's chin in hand, turning her head back and forth. She tutted. "It's beginning to show. You resemble your friend the tanuki rather than a dog demon."
"Since I did not study for six weeks, I wanted to take some time to refresh my memory," Setsuna answered calmly, removing her chin from her grandmother's grip. Her neck twinged as she did so. She had spent so many days hunched over the short table in Towa's room, she probably had a dozen knots in her shoulders.
"Hmm. You've also thrown yourself into your sparring sessions with the guards. As much as your dedication pleases me, I fear the late nights are affecting your performance. The guards report your skills have been…lacking as of late."
Setsuna's cheeks burned. She couldn't help that she wasn't as proficient as Towa, who had had a lifetime to learn. In fact, she was lucky with what she had learned between camping trips with her uncle, three months of kendo club in high school and six weeks of camp. But that was precisely why she was training so hard—so that she could get better quicker.
I wish I did not have to sleep, like Father and Grandmother seem not to. How nice it must be to have so much extra time on one's hands.
"You will take tonight off," Inukimi announced. "After your dinner, you will take a bath and go promptly to bed."
"But—"
"That is an order, Towa. Or do you not recall all the times you've run yourself so ragged that you came down with fever? Your father is always beside himself, fearing it will be the end of you. What do any of us know about curing mortal illness? At this rate, you will do the same again. Do not be an unfilial child and make things difficult for your father."
Setsuna dropped her head in shame. "Yes, Grandmother."
Her grandmother bade her to take her meal outside that night, claiming that the summer's evening air was particularly refreshing that day. When Setsuna arrived on the portion of the engawa where she was to sup, she found her grandmother already reclining on a throne in the enclosed garden (Setsuna noticed that Inukimi had thrones littered across the palace so that she may lay upon them like the dog she was) as well as a few musicians setting up their stools and instruments.
"We're having live music?" Setsuna asked.
Inukimi frowned at her. "Of course it is 'live.' You ought to worry if you hear the songs of the dead, little pup."
Setsuna bit her tongue as she realized her slipup. As soon as a servant set a tray before her, the musicians started to play. The koto player began, plucking a few tentative strings on the flat instrument, their single notes warbling in the air and echoing like a shishi-odoshi—a bamboo deer-scarer fountain. As he increased the tempo, the shakuhachi flutist came in, his trilling notes rustling like reeds in the wind. Finally, a kokyu player weaved the melodies together with his own, the high keen of the bow sliding across the strings moving like a musical warp and weft. Setsuna forgot to eat as she listened to some of the most ethereal music she had ever heard.
She could just imagine these demons enchanting humans in ages past with that very music, luring them into the depths of the forest, never to be seen again.
How she longed to play her violin again. It was her preferred way to de-stress. Her eyes remained glued to the kokyu, watching the musician's every movement.
When the song ended, Setsuna set down her chopsticks and applauded lightly. When the musicians looked at her in surprise and even her grandmother stared in confused disapproval, her clapping died off.
What did I do wrong? she wondered. Their music was absolutely worthy of applause.
"Do not excite yourself over some background music, little pup," Inukimi said. "The music is meant to soothe you, not rile you up."
But how could she not be riled up? She had not touched an instrument in seven weeks. She couldn't remember ever going so long since she had started her violin lessons. Her hands itched just staring at the kokyu.
She wanted to try playing it so badly. Most of the mechanics seemed similar to the violin—it just had three strings instead of four and was held propped up in front like a cello rather than on her shoulder. She knew she could play it if she just got her hands on it.
She glanced around. It was only herself, her grandmother, and the musicians. Her father—the only person at court who might suspect she was not Towa but rather her sister—was not here. Indeed, she did not even know if he was in the palace. She swore she had seen him leave earlier that day.
It wouldn't hurt, she decided.
The musicians settled into another calming melody as the dusk darkened into night, allowing the stars to peek out one by one while the waning crescent moon cut a sharp figure the sky. Setsuna looked up at the lunar body—a symbol she found on so many foreheads in the palace.
She sometimes wished she too bore such a mark, if only to be a reminder of her heritage. Back home, it was so easy to forget sometimes that she was half-demon. She looked so human and lived like one too.
I should be grateful, I suppose. It would only have made it harder on Mother had I not looked as I do.
The moon also gave her an idea.
Setsuna quickly finished her dinner, and when the musicians completed their song, Setsuna got up and approached them. Again, they looked at her in alarm. "H-Have we displeased you, Lady Towa?" the flutist asked.
"No," Setsuna answered.
"Then…is there something you wish us to play for you, milday?" the koto player added.
Setsuna approached the kokyu player and held out her hands. "May I try?"
The musician went goggle-eyed, almost resembling Jaken in that instant, as he hastened to hand over his instrument. He then got up from his seat and offered it to Setsuna.
"Oh, what's this, Towa? You've never shown an interest in music before," her grandmother noted, her eyes lifting in curiosity.
Setsuna wondered if Towa had even had the choice. From what she had noticed about her sister's studies and schedule, everything she did was meant to prepare her to become a reigning warlord. What need did warlords have for music?
Still, she ignored her grandmother and ran the bow over the strings, tuning the instrument and getting a feel for the new way of holding a bow. She'd start with a simple melody—something she had played over and over and could adapt to three strings instead of four.
Mother's lullaby. Her mother had sung it to her all the time when she was a child, and when she was older, Setsuna decided to write the composition for the lullaby her mother had created. When Setsuna had asked her if it had a name, her mother smiled and said, "The Dog and the Moon."
She closed her eyes and began to play. The soothing melody carried on the gentle breeze of the night air, filling the garden with its soft rise and fall of notes. Setsuna's nose tickled as pressure built behind her eyes.
Mother, I miss you.
She loved that she had finally met her father and grandmother. But after that day her father had spent with her in the wood, she had barely seen him afterwards. He seemed to be out overseeing his territory more than he was at home, leaving Setsuna to herself or with her distant grandmother. The fact that he was not sitting with them now for a night of enjoying music probably meant that he was away again. It was why she had decided to risk playing.
She had thought she would not mind the solitude. Her home in the South, after all, was usually so boisterous between her aunt and uncle that she barely had a quiet moment to herself.
And yet…even though she was surrounded by an entire palace full of people, she felt lonely. As embarrassing as bathing with Moroha had been, she had also enjoyed having a friend to spend her first night abroad with. Moroha had helped take the sting out of not sleeping with Mokomoko.
She tried to imagine Towa wandering these large, empty halls as a child, and her notes grew longer and sadder. Moroha could not be with Towa all the time either.
Towa needed a sister. Setsuna needed her sister.
I miss them too. I suppose I grew too used to seeing them every day at camp.
In an ideal world, she would be able to see them both every day of the year—as well as her parents, aunt, and uncle.
She kept her eyes closed, willing the tears to subside so that her Grandmother would not chide her. Her nose grew stuffy with snot as she held them back, blocking off the mellow scents of the garden.
When she finally finished the piece, she took a deep breath, re-centering herself. She sniffed, and the scent of Mokomoko tickled her nose. Her eyes shot open.
The musicians all smiled at her, lightly applauding. "Well done, Lady Towa! I did not realize you played!" the kokyu player announced.
"As expected of Lord Sesshoumaru's daughter. You can do anything you put your mind to!" the koto player added.
But her eyes were not on them. She peered around the dark garden, looking for her father. She swore she had smelled him….
Her Grandmother peered at her with curious eyes. "You never mentioned learning the kokyu at camp."
"I…did not think it would interest you to know," Setsuna hedged, still looking. Finally, he showed himself, descending from the roof. His eyes never left hers. Her heart thudded.
Does he know? His expression hasn't changed. Maybe he'll believe I learned it at camp.
"Ah, Sesshoumaru, you've decided to grace us with your presence. Were you listening just now? Apparently, Towa has picked up a new talent."
"Has she?" Sesshoumaru rejoined.
Inukimi continued talking as if he hadn't spoken. "But I do not recognize the piece. What is it called?"
Setsuna was about to tell her when her father cut her off. "Setsuna."
She looked at him on reflex and answered, "Hm?"
His eyes glinted with a mix of awe and victory.
Too late, she realized her mistake.
"Setsuna? Is that the name? How peculiar," Inukimi remarked.
"It is not," Sesshoumaru answered, his gaze never leaving his daughter's. "It is called 'The Dog and the Moon'—a lullaby her mother sang to her."
Setsuna's back broke out in a wave of gooseflesh. He knows. He knew from the moment I started playing. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
Even if he found it strange that she had started playing an instrument, she hadn't thought her father would know this tune—hadn't realized that her mother sang the lullaby before moving South.
Her first week studying strategy, and she had already failed.
"Her mother? That nameless human wife of yours?" her grandmother sneered.
Sesshoumaru glared at her. "Yes." Then he turned his gaze back to his daughter. "Enough, Setsuna. It is over."
Inukimi frowned. "To whom are you speaking?"
Setsuna sighed. Her father was apparently determined to out her in public. Resigned, she reached up and removed the gold pearl from her eye. With a glow, her disguise faded.
Inukimi fully sat up on her throne, her hackles raised as she scented the air. "Who are you, and what have you done with Towa?"
But Setsuna would not give her the benefit of an answer. She locked gazes with her father. He was the one, after all, who had never told his own mother about her. Let him be the one to reveal it.
To Setsuna's surprise, he walked straight to her and cupped her face with a single hand. She blushed, her face growing warmer than his palm.
Liquid gold met indigo, and in a soft, deep voice, he said, "She is my daughter, Towa's younger twin sister. Welcome home, my Setsuna."
AN: I hope you all feel like squish. 😊
Also, as you may have noticed, I couldn't put off giving Rin and Setsuna an official last name any longer, lol. Watanabe means "to cross over an area/border/river/etc." See what I did there? 😉