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Strangled Time
Chapter 31
A knock sounded at the door of the hotel room.
Pulled from his meditation—and by meditation he meant mind numbing boredom—Togashimaru straightened his back against the painted screen that hid him from the entrance door.
"Yes?" He answered the summons with caution.
The door slid open the barest of hairs, just enough for a voice to slip through.
"My honored guest," Said the weathered elder hostess from the other side. "Is there anything that I might retrieve for you to make your stay a more comfortable one?"
He thought about it, quiet for a polite moment before responding. "Thank you, but I am most satisfied with my stay. The quality of the food has been excellent and the grounds well kept. Your hospitality has been quite exceptional."
"My good Sir is too kind." Her disembodied voice rose with a gentle tenor of pleasure. "I have done little more than that which had been expected of me. Do summon me if you think upon anything that may allow for your short time here to be all the better."
Togashimaru hummed and when his sensitive hearing caught the shifting of her fabrics preparing to leave, he stopped her.
"Perhaps there is one small thing that I might request?"
Her answer was as well timed as it was formal. "Anything within my powers to provide, good Sir."
His grin turned puckish.
"If you happen to have it on hand; it has been such a long time since I've had a decent glass of plum wine."
…
"Oh, you poor thing. Whatever did she do to you?" A tawny haired man sitting cross-legged on his shop counter cooed to the broken heap in his arms. Freckles dappled his cheeks and bare arms like a Seurat painting.
"So… can you fix it?" Kagome asked hesitantly, already knowing the answer.
"Heavens no!" The weapons master choked, holding up both pieces of Kagome's shattered bow. "There is no fixing this. A snapped string is something I can fix. The rattan can be replaced once tattered. Perhaps a small nick in the nock can be mended, if it's not too prevalent. But not this. You've snapped the ever loving heart and soul from this bow." His gaze dropped to the lengths of wood once more, eyes growing mournful. "The craftsmanship of this piece was not terribly unremarkable. It should have been well and solid. Whatever did you do to her?"
The young woman gave a quick glance to Saburo leaning by the front door. His sight was trained out the window, but who knew just how closely he was paying attention to the exchange. "I had a run-in with…" She paused when the willowy man on the table brought the splintered wood to his nose and gave it a conspicuous sniff. "A dog of an off color." Kagome finished.
His eyes lit up bright. "I see! Ah, now I understand why Maki referred you to my services." Sprightly and child-like he uncrossed his legs and jumped down from the high counter in a fluid movement. Kagome startled. Scuttling to the left, she put herself between the shop keeper and Saburo to hide the man's furry padded feet from view.
That certainly answered the question pestering the back of her mind.
Yes, as a matter of fact, her new contact was a demon.
A very lively one.
"Hop along back, little rabbit. Let us see what I can fit you with." The demonic weapons smith said with a hithering finger and a smirk of dangerous canines before he disappeared behind a curtain to a back room.
Well.
Alright then.
Pushing off from his spot to follow like a dutiful Doberman, Saburo stopped when Kagome waved him away.
"You go ahead and stay out here. I've got this! It's just to pick out a bow! It'll probably be cramped back there. Why don't you pick something out that you think might be helpful at camp? Be right back. It shouldn't take long at all, promise."
He didn't protest. Instead the tall blacksmith simply nodded very slowly before turning around to study a rack of pointy sai tridents and chained sickles beneath the window. He was very obviously avoiding eye contact with the lavish but malevolent looking naginata shafts in the corner.
They were just a bit more intimidating than the farmer's weapons his brother made.
They were also demon crafted.
Awesome.
"Just maybe don't touch anything. Yeah? Okay, great." Kagome shook out her hands and turned around. "Here we go." She primed herself. With a deep breath she pulled her purity to simmer just below the surface of her skin for quick access, then, back straight and eyes forward, the priestess pushed back the fabric and stepped behind curtain number one.
The thought of meeting up with that coin merchant again or having to go through the formal back-flips of speaking with, say, the Emperor had her sick to her stomach.
But demons?
Kagome could handle demons.
The back room was a workshop; a large open space that was bright from the skylight above. Sawdust, clippings, and metal shavings littered the stone benches and the dirt floor. A small kiln in the back of the room had the space running at a temperature that borderlined cozy and just barely too hot.
It was homier than Totosai's cavern, that was for sure.
"My, my, my." The demon swooped in and started walking around Kagome in slow circles. Predatory. He sniffed in close by her hair. "What are you?"
Kagome shuddered when she felt something brush against her legs as the lithe man rounded behind her back a second time. She looked down to see a bushy chestnut tail wrapping about the front of her thighs. Annoyance came out with a tsk. With a stern hand she pushed the guy away and spun to meet him with a level stare. "I'm a human who likes her personal space, thank you very much."
"Touchy, touchy." He smiled, teeth feral and sharp. Holding onto his elbow with one hand, he propped up his chin with the thumb and fore knuckle of his other. "Yes, but no. You are so much more than that. You are a priestess." That last sentence sounded almost giddy. "A right crispy one at that."
"And you are a Kitsune. A bold one."
"Aren't we all." Fox-man brushed the comment away as if it were a pesky little fly before turning to walk into the wide open room of his workspace. There was a spring in his step, made more prominent by the backward ankle hock of his canine feet. He was shaped like an adult version of Shippo, if Shippo were more of a roan color instead of red. "A priestess who faced off against the mighty little Lordling Sesshoumaru and lived to tell the tale? Quite the tale it must be, I imagine. Would you do me the pleasure of recounting your heroic feat? Or are you here to slay me in my own home? You know, as we do, demons and priestesses and suchlike."
"Neither." Kagome looked affronted. Less a stereotype more an expectation, the cycle of hatred between the two groups ran bone deep, but Kagome never abided by those laws. She wasn't the paladin that Kikyou once was. As long as that Kitsune wasn't trying to kill anyone or touch her inappropriately, she had no reason to treat him any differently than anybody else. "I'm here for a new bow. That's it."
"I see." He purred. "Maki does find the fun ones, doesn't she? Yes. Very good." The weapons smith turned to appraise her once more, from a distance. "What a treat you are. Okay. I've got just the thing, and I'll set you up with her on one condition."
"What's that?"
"You give me your name." He shrugged. "And the names of your traveling companions."
"No deal." Kagome's response was quick and unyielding.
She spun around to leave.
Quick on his feet, the fox moved forward to block the path in front of her. Even more than before, the expression on his angled face turned up with amusement. He held both palms high as a show of good faith. "You're a private woman. I can respect that! But you won't find another shop for days from here. Especially not one with wares so high in caliber." From somewhere behind his back—when had he even grabbed that?—he revealed a gorgeous piece of curved wood. It was nearly ornamental; something you would expect to see in a ceremony before seeing it on a battlefield. Clear lacquered wood with white strips of rattan in a swelling pattern of stripes and crossed wrappings.
She wasn't swayed. It wasn't worth it.
Kagome wasn't about to hand Togashimaru's identity over to him as payment for a pretty trinket. Potential allies or otherwise, things were complicated enough without the whole demon race learning that the late great Lord of the West was temporarily back from the grave.
"No deal." She pushed the bow back towards him.
His eyes glittered orange in the light, unfazed.
"Then how about just your name?"
Just… her name?
She thought about the potential consequences. She wasn't from that time and she had no plans on staying there. She'd find a way home one way or another. What harm could there possibly be in giving her own name? He probably wouldn't even remember her in a year, let alone two hundred when she was back to her normal past.
It seemed innocent enough.
"That's it? I give you my name and you give me a bow?" She asked. "That's the deal?"
"Well no, you have to pay for it. Your name is simply the prerequisite. It isn't free. And there are arrows, obviously. I'm not going to sell you just a bow. What use would that be?" He paused to consider something. "Although I might wave the fee for a small bit of your liver."
Kagome gave him a look that told him just how keen she felt about the liver idea.
Then she said. "Kagome. My name is Kagome."
"Kagome." He rolled the name in his mouth, tasting it. Satisfied he offered her a devil's grin and the flourishing bow of a frivolous fox. "A pleasure doing business with you, Kagome the demon kindred."
…
"What about just black?"
"Black!? You have absolutely no sense of taste!"
"Its classic! Everybody uses black!"
"If by classic you mean its common, and by common you mean dull, then yes, it most certainly is classic." The rollicking craftsman said from the other side of his counter. "You've insulted me enough with the bow. I will not allow you to embarrass yourself with this, Kagome."
"I said I was sorry, Yuugo! It was gorgeous, really. A bow fit for a king—a god!It just wasn't me. This one is perfect, I swear. It'll really help us to lie low."
Yuugo pulled away, turning up his nose. "Why on earth would you want to do that?"
Saburo could feel the patience chipping away from Kagome sliver by sliver.
"How about grey?" She countered with a smile.
With a huff, the weapons smith crossed his arms. "I'll only allow that if the guard will age to black. What metals are your guard and collar?"
"Er… gold tone?"
"Brass and copper." Saburo corrected her. He really didn't want to join that debate, but felt his livelihood about to be insulted in one way or another. "I chose copper for the collar and brass for the mold of th' hilt. Its not every day I get ta work with copper."
"You're a blacksmith?" The smaller craftsman gave him a good look over for the first time. "I suppose that should have been obvious. Well isn't this delightful? What is your specialty?"
"Hammers and spades."
"How quaint!" Saburo walked right into that one. He should have known better."Yet you found yourself making something as laborious and detailed as a sword? I do so respect a man willing to experiment beyond his comfort zone."
"I didn't—"
"Just take the compliment and tell me what sort of guard we're working with. Something simple and flat? Round, oblong, angular? Was the mold a sculptural design or did you perhaps give it a hammered pattern post cast? I'm going to need far more details before I can lead Kagome here in the correct direction. A sword is a living thing, something needing care and attention; an amalgam of random parts could only lead to the creation of a monstrosity. A weapon tells a story—your story—and every piece holds meaning that adds to the narrative. It seems as though it's fallen to me to pick up the pieces for you in your dire time of need. We'll be lucky if I'm able to tie things together into coherence with but a color."
"I don't think most people care—"
"Apparently he cares." Kagome cut in, pressing her fingertips to her cheekbones. "Please just tell him so we can go already. It was round, right?"
"Yeah, with spokes spread out from the center. Kinda like sun rays?"
"Flower petals, maybe?"
Yuugo sighed, making a dramatic display of rolling his eyes as he started swiping ropes and strips of cloth from his countertop to toss in a basket. "A chrysanthemum guard. I should have known. It's only one of the most common dies for you to get your hands on. That's fine. I can work with this. Chrysanthemums are symbols of nobility, longevity, and rejuvenation. What color skin is the hilt wrapped with?"
The priestess gave a start. "Skin?"
"The wood of th' hilt is wrapped in leather from a stingray. There's a texture to it that keeps the cord wrapping from slidin' all around." Saburo explained before adding, "It's white."
"Thank heavens." The shorter brown haired man gave a breath of relief. "Black would have been much less lenient." He started to pace back and forth. "Now, we have a standard blade with a white skin and brass finishings. Brass and copper will age with green, so I would suggest avoiding any shades of lavender even though they would play off of the noble aspects of the chrysanthemum. Red is right out. Absolutely not."
"Can we not go too crazy?"
"I do not do crazy. I do elegant. I do extravagant. Do you not want the absolute best that I can provide for you? No, no, forget I asked that. I already know the answer." He eyed the bow strapped to Kagome's back with scorn. "I don't know why I'm even bothering to—" This time he cut himself off. Eyes wide, Yuugo ducked down behind his side of the counter, slid open a cabinet door, and began rummaging.
"Yuugo?" Kagome leaned over the counter, curious.
"Hold your tail right there, little rabbit. I may well have just the thing for you."
A short time later he popped up, just as spontaneously as he had disappeared. There was a long cord draped delicately between his hands and his smile was smug.
"Does this fit your requirements of demurity, Kagome?"
Saburo scowled at the strap. "It's just brown."
"It most certainly is not just brown! This is a pale bamboo! Cotton interwoven with silk for a delicate sheen that does not sacrifice grip! Inconspicuous from a distance yet rich beneath the wielder's touch! It ties the nobility of the guard with the grand simplicity of a Shinto shrine! Can't you see? It's irony—a being as intimidating as her hiding behind a mask of such innocence! Potential to be both hero and executioner! Why, if my own sister's kit was n—"
"Yuugo." Kagome stopped the man mid-tirade. Then she placed her hands on the counter and smiled. "It's perfect."
"Thank you!" The man huffed, immediately placated. "Perhaps your eye for taste is not a complete loss after all."
…
The two walked the streets back to the inn in silence, each step growing more tense than the last.
Finally Saburo couldn't take the pressure of the silence anymore.
"You, uh, wanna stop fer some tea and simmer down before we return home to ol' daddy dearest?"
"Oh my god." Kagome's answer came out in an airless rush. Her cheeks were tinged with spots of red and he wondered if she'd been holding her breath the entire time. "Yes. Please."
End Chapter
[Tsarashi - Fun fact, one type of furnace used in early Japan to smelt iron is called a bloomery. Isn't that just cute? I thought that was cute and had to share. You know, since Saburo always seems to have his bloomeries in a twist around Toga.]