"Unfortunately, I am incapable of self-restraint. I'm interested more in indestructible, unyielding struggle than in victory."
— Nikos Kazantzakis
Flames scantly lit from her fingertips. Their light illuminated her face in the dark chamber of the teahouse. Sakura clutched a pillar candle in her palm. Another pocket of fire erupted from her skin, fluttering softly against the pale color of the wax. Sakura ignited the candle with a finger, simmering the rest of the flame within her hand.
The fire used to pain her when she was a child. She did not know how to hold it properly back then. Her father would say she was a slow learner, but she learned with time. Her sister had been exceptional in wielding fire, procuring it from merely a snap of her fingers, and laughing merrily at its ease with every attempt. The memory caused Sakura's lips to tremble. She was regretful of many things. Sakura placed the candle atop the dresser in front of her and moved to collect a pair of shears.
It had been half a century since she last cut her hair.
She held the iron nervously, taut against her chest, then reached for a piece of her long, spiraling tresses. Their amber color melted against the candlelight well. She rubbed the mirror in front of her before blowing out a sigh of anticipation. Sakura held her breath.
The blade of the shears crunched down, splitting noise against her ear. She grimaced. Clusters of her hair drifted to the floor like falling, ginkgo leaves. She had spent decades growing it all for nothing as it seemed. She gradually snipped away more, measuring the length of her mane against the rim of her breasts when finished.
Sakura looked at the bamboo dresser brimming with fine kimonos: Chinese silk and embroidered sashes. They would be no use in her search for the white-haired demon. Perhaps it was against her better judgement, but she was going to convince him to keep her within his company. The princess would not be able to travel alone. She was not capable of bathing unguarded or traveling the night roads. She knew this herself.
She never did fare well before, but the lands had become even more precarious with the Shikon shards scattered throughout its grooves. Sakura supposed that the women of the brothel may find appreciation in her intricate pieces. It was not as though she could simply haul them on her back anyway, what with how heavy the layers were.
She unraveled the sash from her waist, winding its length across her wrist as she bit down on the fabric. She tore of a thinner piece from it. Sloping her shoulders, she allowed her kimono to slip from her body, and opted for a shorter ensemble.
It would be important to stay vigilant on the road. Her hair and clothes only weighed her back. Sakura laced her newly crafted ribbon into her hair, a large tail holding back the wayward fringes. She pulled up a set of white, tabi socks until they reached her thighs. Her shoes displayed her covered toes as she finished their laces. They were somewhat clean, rugged and worn down, but not tattered to frays at least.
Sakura shoved her katana through the thickness of her sash, its hand guard fashioned with twin dragons curling against one another. She tightened the sash once more to keep the sword steady. She rarely used the ancient thing, and had nearly forgotten her swordmaster's techniques. Still, it served its purpose in warning bandits and the like, keeping the mountainous path clear of brigands hoping to ambush an unlucky traveler.
She crept towards the moon, its glow flushing against ponds of the riverlands. The scenery was verdant along the road. Bundles of shrubs laid scattered along the forest's mouth. The air was crisp, clean, and untainted. Yet, something unnerved the princess as she continued along the current of the river. As she advanced, Sakura gazed up on occasion, soft light kissing her cheeks as she thought of the daiyōkai.
A day had passed since their encounter, and Sakura was already vexed with her own decision-making. Why had she waited? Sesshōmaru was far ahead and beyond the trees, perhaps even a few miles from the clamorous village, and Sakura was not making enough progress to satisfy the ache in her chest.
She respired as she ran, the soles of her shoes cracking against the ground like thunder. The direction seemed aimless at times. While she had the senses of a demon, they had not been put to exceptional use in the few months at the brothel. His scent was faint and the passage of time did not help her in discerning it. Sakura only recalled the trace of pine needles and elderberries. She had noticed his painted eyelids, glossy crimson, which accounted for the particular smell. She could not say it was unpleasant.
Sesshōmaru was traveling with a little girl, in that Sakura found solace. The pair would not be able to venture long distances in short time even if they desired so. Sakura surmised that Sesshōmaru was patient, despite his approach in the teahouse. The princess leapt alongside the small rocks in the river, spurts of water colliding with her thighs. She stopped for a moment in the middle of a stream. Sakura discerned her surroundings. The air was beginning to unsettle her, and she stretched her leg to the bank.
She was far up the mountain.
It was unusual to listen to the endless drone of silence deep in the wilderness. Sakura stepped to the edge of the river once more. The shards attached to her waist resonated light, almost rattling as the ground beneath her began to quake. She darted her eyes along the expanse of both sides, body starting to draw back defensively. The tremors were growing in strength. Sakura inhaled a deep breath, immobilized with fear.
Two horns protruded from the overgrowth of the forest, trees surrounding the red fiend and concealing its colossal body. Sakura slid her foot back at the sight of the oni — a scarlet ogre the size of a house. She had seen blue and green variants of the demon before, but never at this proximity. Sakura leered at its head, dark tufts of hair surrounding its face; beady, mustard eyes staring at the princess with a menacing glint.
"You look delicious." He croaked. Sakura almost shuddered at its first words, a guttural laugh instead erupting from her lips.
"I do? Well, I suppose that would be the case if you desire a charred stomach." A burst of fire flared in her palm. She glowered at the large demon, attempting to appear as ferocious as possible in order to deter it. He ignored her threat altogether, kneeling to look upon her frightened, pallid face. The other side of the river was merely a step away for him.
"Give it to me." He growled, unable to contain himself. The oni bared its sharp fangs, eyes maddened with greed. "I can feel the power of the Shikon Jewel, human spawn. Give me what you have, and I will let you live."
"How generous." She said dryly.
Sakura shifted her weight above her knees, standing to confront the demon steadfast. She swiped her fingers against one another like matches, each ablaze with more fire than the width of her own hand. The flames in both exploded with tenacity. She was not exceptionally afraid, but it had been some time since she used her powers like this. The oni reared its fist back and swung it across the river towards the princess. She eluded the first blow — barely. A giant surge of air blew against her left side in return.
Sakura had shielded her face from the blast as well as she could manage. A half-second too late, she began to move towards the cluster of trees behind her before the oni seized her within its rigid grasp. Sakura floundered there, beating her fists into his thumb, digging her nails against his skin. The oni pushed the princess against his mouth, intaking her scent and salivating when he processed it. He recognized her blood.
"A half-demon like you will make for a better meal than a human. What better to accompany the jewel?" He grinned. Sakura flashed another ball of fire in her palms and threw it towards the oni's monstrous face. She continued to throw spheres of flames, aiming for its eyes when propelling the fire forward. One reached a corner as she watched its eyeball twitch as a result, and the oni dropped Sakura to the ground. The air jumped out of her chest as she collided with its hardness, the impact choking her as she attempted to collect herself once more.
When the oni reached for her again, Sakura could not even shout a sound of dread before blood splattered on her face and chest, showering her in the thick smell of iron. Her vision was failing from fatigue and vertigo, blurring the sight before her as blood drooled from her lashes, dipping into her mouth and cleavage.
A figure shrouded in white stood atop the great oni's now decapitated skull. The demon's eyes rolled into the side of its head, fangs still extended beyond its tongue. As Sakura composed her vision once more, she managed to discern a face of overwhelming contempt towering above her. She chuckled, eyes shifting to the grass at her side, and wiped most of the hot blood from her face.
Sesshōmaru glared daggers at the princess as she regained her breath. His shoes, bloodied and covered in muck, stepped towards her panting figure. He looked regal and refined. Sakura was a mess in contrast. Her face heated with humiliation. Sesshōmaru swung his slender blade and sheathed it, resting his palm on the handle of the sword.
"For all the confidence you possessed against me, you could not even strike down a simple ogre." He snorted, treading lightly along the river rocks with ease. "How predictable." He uttered. It was only salt in the wound for Sakura, whose pride all but consumed her at times.
"I was doing well in comparison to you. An attack from the rear ... you must be so proud of yourself." She wiped the dirt away from her sleeves. Impertinent again, Sakura did not care for his manners. She jeered, her fangs poking against the edge of her lower lip.
"Hn." Sesshōmaru clicked his tongue in disapproval. Standing before her, he brushed his fingers through her hair for a moment before a harsh jerk wrenched her head back. She whimpered. A moan of distress resonated towards the mountaintop.
"Why are you following me?" He hissed.
"Stop." She commanded. Sakura gritted her teeth in agony before she swiped at the daiyōkai's legs. Sesshōmaru adjusted his position, making sure he was well out of her reach before he moved his grasp to her thin throat. He could feel her breath shudder against his skin, her pulse heavy and quick between his fingers. She was just as weak as his half-brother. He knelt beside her, prodding her lips apart with the tip of his nail. Sesshōmaru was looking at her with expectation, a silver light shivering in his eyes, the demon snarling and waiting for her to speak.
"I am desperate for your help, Sesshōmaru." The lack of formality irked him.
"Address me by my title, half-demon."
"My father never permitted such titles to demons. What lands do you reside over then?" Sakura narrowed her eyes against him until he finally relinquished his hold. She wrapped her hand across her neck in comfort, and gazed up at the demon with sudden realization. She could not be sure, but she had never met another demon like him before, and Sesshōmaru was exceptionally strong.
"Are you Inu no Taishō's son?"
"Answer my question first." Sesshōmaru sneered. Sakura shifted her legs uncomfortably.
"Why am I following you? I need you to protect me — for a short time. " She spluttered. Sesshōmaru rolled his eyes.
"That is a vague request."
"You saw what just occurred. I cannot hold my own with these conditions. Demons lie in wait, sensing the shards from a distance. Humans are gluttonous, eager and cunning to take control of them. I simply need you to shield me from any matter until I can collect all of the pieces."
"What makes your plight any different? All I see is a weak half-demon who desires to become whole."
"If I wanted even a semblance of power, I would be contented with what I have. I do not care about my pedigree. I have a wish for the jewel. Do you desire my gratitude, my subservience? I will award you with greater possessions beyond that."
"You put yourself at jeopardy with those shards at your side. Take responsibility for them." It was a rather harsh verdict, but he cared little for empty promises and easy smiles. The latter she procured at the teahouse. Sesshōmaru turned and began to walk away, inspecting the trees for any other signs of demons before he trudged towards his campsite. She was already panicking. She had no other offer, and how many like him roamed the countryside? Sakura screamed like a child, her voice shrill and shattering.
"I will do more than that! I will tend to the girl. You are fond of her, this I know to be true." She implored. "I beg you with this request. You will be a lord with estates that your father could only aspire to gain. He occupied the Western lands, but they did not belong to him. I can give you a castle so that you may fulfill his forgotten wishes."
"All you ask of me is protection, is it?" Sesshōmaru found it difficult to believe, but not inconceivable. A lack of confidence in her words still prodded at his better judgement, but he was not exceptionally clever, no more so than her at least. Sesshōmaru inspected her posture, how tall she stood now.
"Yes, nothing more." She nodded. He considered her words for some time, pensive as he glanced up at the quarter moon, stars trickling light beside it with a calmness that enveloped the pair. He turned to face her. She was so mesmerizing, her yukata exposing her milk-colored thighs as she shifted.
"What of your wish then? What do you crave?" He did not know why he asked, perhaps it was due to the sense of mystery surrounding the half-demon, but he wanted to be rid of his interest in her. He was taking to it, her watering eyes, her delicious smell. Her scent was beginning to obscure his senses again, sweet olives trailing every inch of her. He raised a brow as she brushed off the remaining filth from her yukata.
"That is truly none of your concern." Sakura said.
"You claimed that you wished to travel with me. If you still aspire to do so, you'll answer my questions without backtalk." He snapped.
"How did you lose your arm?" She retorted, tone inflected with spite. Sesshōmaru could have buried his claws into her pretty face.
"Hold your tongue, half-demon."
"What does it matter? My wish makes no difference. You will have your castle." She swallowed back another fit, eyes slipping to his with uncertainty. Sesshōmaru twisted away for a moment. She was so arrogant, so quick to act. Sesshōmaru considered her a fool at best. Yet, he looked to her again, her eyes encircled with a blazing spark of sincerity. Sesshōmaru recalled a similar expression in the teahouse. It was something humans were unable to possess, for he saw no such comparison in his life.
"What reassurances do I have?"
"My word." She said.
"Hm." He did not know whether that accounted for much, but it was acceptable for the time being. She would be able to preoccupy Rin, gather food that she herself would also eat, and care for the girl as a woman may only do. "You will feed and tend to yourself. Do you understand? You are nothing in my graces."
"Come then. I won't carry you." He glimpsed at her soft face, lips thick and inviting. He disregarded the sight, and continued his march with a stoic air. His mind accompanied with thoughts of Rin, Sesshōmaru wondered if the young child was still asleep against A-Un. The dragon's bristling, umber scales always flattened for her touch.
"How far — "
"It is a distance. I heard you long before the ogre captured you. You are fortunate I did not happen upon you first." He said. She chose not to think of the alternative.
His humor was dry, if it could even be considered as such, but that did not shock the princess. She was simply grateful to be alive. It was difficult to restrain her sharp tongue; however, and Sakura was keen to use it. He reminded her all too well of her suitors, high lords of illegitimacy that looked down on her for her lineage. They had no right to speak, and neither did Sesshōmaru for that matter. Yet, she supposed it would do her well to express some gratitude. She was always lacking in diplomacy.
"Sesshōmaru, I thank you. Do not think I have no appreciation for your benevolence."
"Benevolence." He snorted, a smile nearing his lips. "Is that what you think?" It was more ridiculous than anything he could have imagined coming from her. Sakura etched her eyes into his back, attempting to think of topics to broach in doing so, which proved to be quite ineffective. He seemed to only speak when the subject piqued his interest, and Sakura found the indignity of it all rude. She rather disliked him, but considered that keeping quiet on the subject was best for both parties.
"Why did you come?" She asked.
"Your smell. I was unable to sleep because of its encroaching sweetness. It's singular to you." Sakura did not know whether to be insulted or flattered by his comments. Sesshōmaru clearly did not concern himself with her opinions, for he made no attempt to correct any of his observations or give them clarity.
They continued along the mountain path, fireflies dotting the sky like flecks of starlight before them, and distant howls echoing against the valley underneath. Sakura thought to reach for Sesshōmaru's sleeve as it fluttered through the wind before she remembered her own words. He had lost his arm. He would more than likely be upset if she were to suddenly touch him. She clenched her jaw, close to shivering from the open air, and tugged her yukata collar close.
"Consider resting for a moment if your camp is far. I am exhausted ... and cold."
"You are not under my regard for but a minute and you are already making demands?" He scoffed.
"It is not a demand. I apologize. Please take no notice of what I just proposed." The sharp inflection of her voice was meant to act as a shield, but Sesshōmaru was too perceptive to miss this. She grew up in a castle, and for one stationed in royalty, she fared just as he suspected. Poorly.
"Let us sleep here for the duration of the dark. We will not reach it by the fortnight, so there is no point in going further." He began to settle against a tree, moss tickling the nape of his neck and brushing the points of his ears. Sakura peeked around the trunk of another, roots splurged out in every direction, leafage obscuring them from the path. She nodded to herself, and decided that there would be no better place to rest.
Sakura approached a nearby tree and grimaced at the ground. Sesshōmaru had already shut his eyes, but he could perceive her displeasure from the stretch of the silence. She skid her foot along the dirt awkwardly and placed a palm on the bark.
"It isn't going to be comfortable." Sesshōmaru said through closed eyes, his leg sliding up to his chest. "No matter how much you touch it."
That was not the resolution that Sakura wanted, to simply ignore the thought of insects crawling over her skin, or to accept the night's frigid nip at her face. She could at least create a solution to the cold. She leaned against the chestnut tree, wary of any bristles hiding in the grass before she coasted down.
Her fingers snapped together like a match again, and a bright flame erupted in between. Sesshōmaru opened an eye, and then another. It was beautiful. The light battered like a heartbeat, and was colored like molten gold.
"You're a dragon." He said. She was not like A-Un despite being of the same species. She was distinctly the offspring of a daiyōkai like himself — and some human whore no doubt. He considered the greatness of a dragon to be wasted on a human.
"According to the legend, I am. Do you not know of this? My father is emperor for a reason."
"A tale created by humans has never swayed me, nor will it." He was well aware of the falsehood that humans spoke of their heritage. They claimed that they were descended from Amaterasu herself, and a dragon princess that the Sun Goddess's grandson wed. It was as idiotic as Sesshōmaru recalled, bordering delusion.
"Well, this one is true." She asserted. He did not possess the energy to argue with a thickheaded half-demon, but he continued the thread.
"What of your mother?" Her shoulders stiffened.
"Why? Should you not know by glancing at me?" She retorted. Sesshōmaru was rarely sadistic, but he was not opposed to teasing her flaring temper.
"I want to hear it from your lips." He said, a lightness in his breath. Silence weighed heavy until Sakura finally spoke again.
"She was nobody." The words shot out like an arrow. He was surprised by her bluntness, twisting his head to study her face. She was comely in the light, the fire flickering against her skin, soft orange shades burning. She seemed otherwise indifferent, her head soon reaching the belly of the tree as her eyes started to drift away from him. "She was a tailor. She fashioned august pieces for his court. They were all wonderful from what I was told, the clothes."
"You see, his wife had fallen very ill and wanted company before her death. Not the kind from the court — all pomp and circumstance — but from a peasant. My mother was summoned, and the empress adored her through all visits. Dragons are very particular, meticulous in their choosing, and they will not settle for simply anyone. My father eventually warmed to her as well. Years later, after the empress died, he wed her in a forest not unlike this one. She was the first human consort in the royal line."
Sesshōmaru said not a word, forming an image of Sakura's mother in the back of his head. She must have been an exceptional beauty, yet he had a feeling that Sakura would have outshone her, but that was neither here nor there. She may have had a thick mane of black curls, plump lips like Sakura's, and high ridges in her cheeks. He looked at Sakura once more, noticing how her eyes had prominent folds.
"And now?" He asked. He was intrigued by the story, and urged her to continue her narrative. It had completely subverted his expectations.
"She died giving birth to me." She concluded. Sakura's hand dropped, and the fire along with it. Sesshōmaru now understood her meaning when she described her mother, not that she was unloved by Sakura, but that she had not even met her daughter. She must not have been empress for but a few years.
The temperature was dropping quickly, and neither of the two were expressly content as it was. Sesshōmaru extended his right hand, his violet marks beckoning Sakura to his side. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the gesture.
"Come here." He said.
"Why?"
"I'm cold. Come warm me."
She frowned. It was not an enticing request, but Sakura preferred to recline against a softer surface. She took to her feet and treaded towards Sesshōmaru, who motioned for her to sit in the space beside him. He was a bit more snug than the chestnut tree was, and Sakura had been afraid that the spiky, unripe barbs would rain down from above at any given moment. Sakura sunk to the ground and rested against Sesshōmaru, her heart beginning to thrash inside her chest.
"Shall I make a fire?" She offered, but it was more of an excuse to distract her from his radiating warmth.
"No, you are fine as you are." He clutched her by the shoulder, bringing her against the coolness of his chestplate, and rested his head once more. The tree's hardness must have been disagreeable, but Sakura was too unnerved to offer her lap. He still terrified her in a way, his unfamiliarity, his piercing, flaxen eyes.
"You would do well to sleep. I have no such interest in your kind, believe me." She blinked at his words, comprehending them all too well. He had not laid a hand on her in the brothel, when he needed only slip his fingers across her sash. If he did not do it then, she found it unlikely now, and she was not incapable. He saw to that himself.
"I hadn't considered — "
"You should. If you were as sharp as you seemed, you would be mindful." He warned, opening his eyes to see her innocent expression. Her lashes fluttered up at him, brows raised with skepticism. Perhaps she overestimated his desire for a noble title or magnificent castle, but Sakura remained unconvinced.
"Sleep for what few hours we have." He said, tugging her into the crook of his neck. Half-lidded, Sakura's eyes began to flit into a deep slumber. The evening had exhausted her head, spinning it, dazzling it with the daiyōkai's presence. She felt the heat of his skin and sighed.
The scent of pine needles and candied olives melted together in the summer wind, rushing towards the head of the mountain once more.