Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha.

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Coral Honeysuckle

The color of my fate

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Slightly off the road and hidden in a copse of trees, steam wafted over a rock-lined pool. A pungent odor of sulfur and minerals filled the air.

Kagome sighed, drifting lazily. "Ah, this is perfect!"

It had been at least three days since she'd last indulged in a decent soak. And after all the running she'd done, the hot spring would do wonders for her sore muscles. Following a hasty breakfast — for Sesshoumaru seemed to be in a particular hurry this morning — they left the elderly man's hut without a word of goodbye. Kagome swore up and down that the ronin was being rude to their host, and that they should wait for their host's return, but he wouldn't listen and never turned back. She didn't want to get left behind.

From the other side of a jumble of large stones that divided the spring, Kagome heard Sesshoumaru's sniff. Grumbling, she paddled over. Through the coiling vapors, she could see him leaning against the far end, his muscular arms spread out on either side of him. Clean of dirt and sweat, she could secretly admit that he was handsome. Too bad. Fine of face and stature, all the good looks in the world did nothing for his piss-poor attitude.

"What's got you in a mood?" She huffed. Kneeling in water only chest deep, Kagome folded her arms across a large rock to rest her chin. "The water feels great! You should be enjoying this."

"We shouldn't linger."

"But I want to relax!"

"We don't have the luxury," Sesshoumaru stressed. He rose, and heated water streamed down his well-defined form.

While not necessarily uncomfortable with the male body, Kagome politely averted her gaze with a blush. The damage was done, and the image was carved behind her eyelids. A broad torso, and a tapered waist that angled sharply into a V-shape just above the dip of his hips, was permanently etched into her mind. Get ahold of yourself! Fingers pressed against her cheeks, warm from too many minutes in the spring or from that brief look, she couldn't say.

"Eyes to yourself, miko." His tone was frigid, but the quirk of his lips said otherwise.

Accidentally spying another glance, he was at least clothed in his fundoshi. Though it wasn't his pale skin that stole her attention this time.

"So many," she breathed. Blue eyes traced the numerous scars that crisscrossed his back and sides, paler in comparison to his normal skin tone. The largest, a thin stripe with jagged edges, angled from his right shoulder blade to the lower left of his waist. His newest wound, stitched and healing, was located slightly above it. Sesshoumaru didn't seem offended by her inspection; he was too busy scrubbing coarse fingers through his hair.

He worked vigorously. From root to tip, his hair grew lighter with each pass. Black dripped on the stone below. Dipping a wooden pail into the pool, he poured it overhead and trails of dark water spilled down his back.

Kagome gasped.

"Out with it."

"Your hair," she started, eyes wide. "It's silver. It can't be…"

The note of disbelief was telling. He didn't blame her; his current appearance was far removed from who he once was. He no longer dressed in the red and white that had been customary of his clan. Truthfully, it would probably take the revealing of his natural coloring for anyone to believe his actual identity. "My clan was known for its silver hair and gold eyes," he supplied. Sesshoumaru smothered a sigh. "In fact, we took great pride in it."

"But that means-!"

He gestured to a bamboo tube near her. "Hand me that."

"You're a Kirishima." Kagome obliged, mystified.

He grunted, pouring a handful of dark liquid into his palm. "Kirishima Sesshoumaru. Son and heir to Kirishima Taisho, the previous lord of Echizen."

Shock was the only way she could explain it. There's no way. No possible way! And yet, he was completely real. Here was the heir of the Echizen province, kneeling and lathering black dye into his long, silver tresses. He survived the war. A smidgen of hope blossomed in her chest, and her fingers curled protectively around the Shikon at her throat.

Kagome had to know. "Is that why you changed your mind?"

Sesshoumaru had dreaded that very question. He knew she would eventually ask it. The Kirishima Clan had promised to assist in the destruction of the Shikon no Tama. Is that why the gods spared me? Scoffing, he was never a believer in Fate — or the gods. He'd always seen it as the ultimate dishonor — that his clan and family had perished on the battlefield and he had survived — and too selfish to commit hara-kiri [1], a life of disgrace was all he could look forward to.

He paused, doused his hair once more, and rose. Where once the young lord stood, only a black haired ronin remained. "I do not wish to talk about it."

"Wait! Sesshoumaru-san… er, sama, I-!"

"No."

She froze.

"I am no longer a lord." He wrung out his hair before tying it back with a tattered strip of red and off-white cloth. Drying off and forgoing his bandages, he tugged on his han-juban and kosode, stepped into his hakama, and tightly wrapped his obi. His katanas slipped into place at his waist. Glare boring into bewildered blue eyes, he threw on his jinbaori. "You will address me accordingly."

She dipped lower behind the stone barrier. Properly chastised, Kagome nodded.

Sesshoumaru gestured to her own pile of clothing. "Finish up."

. • º | | º • .

They rode through the rest of the day and into the evening, only slowing briefly to rest and water the horse. Skirting south of Matsumoto, they galloped through the peaks and valleys of the Tosandō [2] until the sun dipped beyond Mount Moriya and stars dotted the path overhead. A fattening moon lit the way. Avoiding the busy nightlife of Narai-juku, they rode by without stopping and into the mountains once more. Clinging to his back, Kagome buried her face between his shoulders, seeking warmth. The smell of pine and dust clung to his clothes, but the faint scent of spring minerals lingered. Black hair tickled her cheek.

Kagome still couldn't believe it. That she had stumbled across a Kirishima — the last Kirishima — had to be a blessing during this dangerous hour. Coming across him in that ruined temple, it had to be Fate. A sparkle of wonder and hope nipped at her heart. And every now and then, she'd try to steal a peek at the man, still marveling at the transformation from silver to black.

"It's a shame really." She found herself speaking into his shoulders.

"Hnn," he grunted.

"Your hair," Kagome clarified. "The silver… it's beautiful."

Sesshoumaru gave no response, and spurred the horse into a steady canter.

Kagome hadn't expected him to reply, though it would have been nice. He seemed the more reticent type; not necessarily participating in small talk nor initiating any conversations. There's no way am I keeping quiet this whole trip. Pressing her face into his shoulders to hide from the cold, she mutedly basked in his warmth.

She'd never been this close to a man — at least, not one that wasn't bleeding from wounds or suffering illness. Arms wrapped around his middle, she blushed at the flex of solid muscle beneath her palms. It left a strange tingling in her belly, and she did her best to curb the feeling, instead focusing on not falling off. The constant bouncing was starting to get uncomfortable.

There's only so much one can take! She was fortunate that the clothing Sesshoumaru had purchased were suitable for riding. Kagome didn't want to even imagine trying to ride side saddle. Or worse — with the komon hiked up to mid-thigh. Not in this chill! Groaning, she rose up slightly to ease the muscles of her rear.

"Sesshoumaru-san…"

Nothing.

"Sesshoumaru-san?" Nose wrinkling, she tried again. This time she punctuated her address with a slight pinch to his uninjured side.

"Hnn."

"When can we stop?" Kagome pressed her face into his back. "My butt's going numb, and the horse must be tired."

He acknowledged her with a grunt.

She hardly considered that an adequate response. All his monosyllabic replies were met with a deepening scowl. Why can't he just use words like normal people? Pouting, Kagome prodded him again. "I swear. If we don't stop soon, I'm going to make the rest of this trip a living hell for you."

Sesshoumaru clicked his tongue and glowered over his shoulder. "Bold words from a little girl."

Her cheeks puffed. Blunt nails poked and pinched his side. "I'm not a little girl! My name's Kagome! And I won't pay you!"

"Woman, cease at once."

She stuck her tongue out. "Nuh uh! Not until we stop!"

One hand grasping the reins, the other delivered a sharp smack to her thigh. "Act your age," he growled, frowning at her surprised yelp. For someone claiming to be an adult, she certainly wasn't behaving like one.

Cheeks hot, her bottom lip trembled. Jerk! Angrily, she buried her face into his jinbaori. She needed to get down. "Sesshoumaru-san, stop the horse."

There was no helping it. "Soon. Be patient."

Kagome groaned, but tightened her hold. It felt like her bones were being rattled into soup. She gave up counting the moments until "soon" arrived when Sesshoumaru finally pulled back on the reins. The horse slowed and heavy breaths gusted from its nostrils. They had stopped along the mountainside, forests surrounding them in every direction. He swung down from the saddle before turning to help her dismount, broad hands steadying her hips as her feet found solid ground. Fumbling a thank you, she straightened her hakama.

"Come," he ordered, leading the way into the forest.

Kagome teetered after him. "Not a village?"

"Not tonight."

She frowned. "Why not?" She glanced skyward through the thickening branches: an autumnal night, cloudless and cold. "It's not going to rain, but there is a chill. At least an inn would be warmer, right?"

He didn't reply. Instead, heading deeper into the woods, he guided the horse down a worn deer track and around a thick cluster of camphor trees. Passing the last trunk, he halted, and Kagome stole a curious peek around him.

Away from the road and shielded by wide trunks, a lone hut leant against a sprawling giant, the roof covered in a thick layer of moss. From this distance, Kagome could make out a hitching post and low trough for water. A barrel to catch rainwater was attached to the other side. It seemed vacant, but she couldn't say for certain. No smoke rose from the roof vents and not a flicker of orange light indicated a fire from within.

"Wait here."

Handing her the reins, Sesshoumaru carefully approached. He peered through slatted windows. Yielding no signs of life, he waved her over. "We'll rest here for the night," he began, leading the horse to the side of the hut. "There is a river down the way. And a hot spring" — her eyes sparkling, he quickly dashed her hopes — "but not tonight. Do not wander off."

"How did you know about this place?" Kagome slid open the door, ducking inside. "It can't have been easy to find."

It was a simple structure. Rectangular in shape and consisting of a dirt genkan and a stone fire pit, the remainder of the living space was situated on a raised platform — a large pallet of furs dominating a third of it. A few jars lined wooden shelves, and some rudimentary fishing poles, spears, and bows were stashed in a corner. An empty pail for water sat in another. It was small, and when Sesshoumaru joined her it seemed to shrink.

"By accident." He checked the jars, taking stock. Empty. "Better than sleeping outside when you have no money."

"Are you often out of money?"

Sesshoumaru sighed. "More often than I would like."

He moved about the room, making himself comfortable in the cramped quarters. It was a hut made for a shorter person than he, but he could manage for one night. The hour grew late, and he put aside his swords as he sat at the edge of the raised platform. Sesshoumaru could tell the miko was distressed — what with the way she fidgeted with her sleeve or tried to stay out of his space — and he was sure she'd have something to say.

"A-Are you sure we can't reach the next town?" Kagome shuffled aside, trying to give herself some breathing room. But even that was limited as she nearly tripped over the fire pit. She wasn't hesitant to stay in the same room as him; she'd been doing that for the last two nights. But that was different. More focused on his recovery at the time, it hadn't really occurred to her that she was sleeping in the same room as a man she'd just met. Now...

He sighed deeply. "We've already passed Matsumoto. Wada-shuku is north of here, but the horse needs rest and the road is steep."

"We passed Matsumoto? Why didn't we stop there?"

"Why would I take you to there?"

"Because-!"

"Ryūkotsusei's castle is in Matsumoto," Sesshoumaru growled, prowling close. He had to make her understand. Backing the miko against the wall, his broad frame loomed over her as he cornered her between his arms. She was a naïve thing. With no understanding of the world beyond her shrine, it was a wonder she made it as far as she had. Glaring down at her, she shuddered in his shadow, and he tried not to succumb to wide, blue eyes. "I'm not taking you there. Ryūkotsusei's men will be watching the road. And the inns. It is best we avoid such places."

"Y-yeah, but," Kagome stammered.

"You were the one complaining about being sore." He backed off, tugging his hair free of its high tail and combing his fingers through it. "This will do for tonight."

Grumbling, Kagome surrendered — for now. Keeping herself busy by snooping through jars and peeking into nooks and crannies, she searched for anything edible. He's right. The more they stayed away from the public, the better their chances of reaching Mount Tsukuba. But there was only so much they could do to avoid being seen on the main road. He's being overly paranoid. She stared out the window, doing her best to ignore the gnawing in her belly until it eventually became too much to bear.

"Sesshoumaru-san, I'm hungry," she muttered.

He grunted.

"The jars are empty and I'm out of rice," Kagome started, wandering to the corner to inspect a simple fishing spear. "You said there was a river, right? If I start a fire, I can cook fish."

"No fire."

Kagome countered. "Why not?!"

"They'll see it from the road."

Turning about with hands on her hips, the miko glared. There was no way she was going to bed on an empty stomach. They hadn't stopped to eat — only pausing to stretch their legs or rest the horse — and with nothing in this hut, her stomach would keep her up all night. And if I have to be awake all night, so will you. She stomped her foot. "Then what am I supposed to eat?"

He shrugged, not moving from his spot.

"All right… then I'll look for food in the woods."

Meeting her glare, he growled, "You'll do no such thing."

"You're being unfair!"

"Fine," he replied with a grumble. Troublesome. He stood and straightened his hakama, slipping Bakusaiga into his obi. He should have known that she wouldn't make this journey an easy one. Filching one of the spears and stepping past the door, he threw a firm command over his shoulders. "Stay."

"Ass," Kagome huffed. Untethering her sandals and clambering onto the platform, she fished a blanket from a corner nook. I can't believe him. Wanting to go without dinner was ridiculous. And while she was no stranger to hunger, she'd rather avoid it if possible.

Cocooned within the blanket, she watched the door with a half-lidded gaze. Hopefully… he'll be back soon. He never did say how far away the river was. She wasn't concerned though. He was a big, bad ronin perfectly capable of looking out for himself. Creeping to the window, she peeked out to make sure the horse was still there.

Just in case.

Horse still hitched and not a soul in sight, Kagome killed time as she waited for his return. She hadn't had a moment to herself for awhile. Fiddling with the jewel, reflecting on the past few days, on the upcoming ones, and the ronin she'd allied herself with, she felt drained — mentally and physically. Why did this happen? She could hazard a guess. But more so, Kagome wondered why Midoriko had sent her off with the jewel and not Kikyo. While they had both been lectured and trained about the Shikon no tama, her cousin had been much more capable. She still remembered the silent stare Kikyo had given her when the attack on their home began. I hope she's okay. Turning the Shikon in her hand, the young miko grumbled, "This is all your fault. If you weren't at our shrine, none of this would have happened. If you didn't exist…"

Then Echizen would be free of Ryūkotsusei, and Sesshoumaru would still have his clan.

Fingers squeezed tightly, and she stashed the jewel into her clothes once more. That's not true. Ryūkotsusei could have still attacked Echizen. His General could have still attacked her shrine. Anything could happen during these warring times. And we would have never met.

Wood scrapped, and Kagome peeped from the blanket, watching as Sesshoumaru returned the fishing spear to its proper place. It was odd seeing him with his hair down. "W-Welcome back."

"Hnn." Seated at the edge of the platform, he passed a cloth-wrapped bundle into her hands. Two cooked fish, still warm from the fire, were tucked inside.

"Thank you!" Gratefully biting into the first, she chewed and asked, "What about you?"

"I ate by the river."

Stepping around her, Sesshoumaru slid Bakusaiga from his obi. "Now, if you'll excuse me." He knelt on the pallet, content to ignore her.

Quietly, she munched at her dinner until her fingers were licked clean and she stepped outside to wash them in the rain barrel. Belly warm and full, Kagome returned just in time to witness Sesshoumaru wince as he shifted on the pallet.

"Does it still hurt?" She inquired, snagging the small pail in the corner. A quick step outside, and she was setting the water-filled container beside him. Wrapping a long strip of cloth around her shoulders, she tied back her sleeves. "Let me see it."

He glared. "I am fine."

"Sesshoumaru-san, you should really let me check it," she urged, kneeling at his side.

He sniffed, content to ignore her.

"What if it gets infected?" Kagome glared, leaning towards him. "I noticed you didn't put the bandages back on after the bath. You can't rush these things. Now, let me see it."

"I said no."

"Yes!"

He scowled. "Vexing woman."

"Stubborn ronin."

He glared at her, but she refused to back down. The firm set of her jaw, her pursed lips, and her pinched brow were all proof of her determination. Sesshoumaru huffed. He wasn't the type to surrender to anyone, but he'd never hear the end of it if he didn't. If it will give me a moment of peace… Acquiescing, he shrugged out of his outer kosode and han-juban before showing her his injured side.

"Fine," he grumbled.

Nimble fingers danced along his ribs, cautious of the cut, and sent a shiver chasing up his spine. A muttered apology breezed between her lips, but her focus remained on the mending skin. The wound was pulled together with catgut, little stitches dotting along a portion of his lower ribs. While it no longer bled, the once-pale skin was raised and inflamed. Carefully, she dabbed at it with cool water and reapplied the bit of salve the medicine man had given her, the ronin hissing at the procedure.

Kagome paused, concerned. "Still tender?"

He grunted, his expression unchanged.

"I'm almost done," she reassured. Withdrawing the long strips, which she had cleaned and dried during one of their earlier rests, Kagome rebound the wound. "There! Finished. Was that so hard?"

He didn't dignify that with a response, and watched as the young woman yawned into her elbow. "Sleep, miko." He planned to head out early tomorrow and ride while the road was still quiet.

Sleeping arrangements… There was something she hadn't considered. Mild panic ignited in her gut.

Kagome stuttered. "W-Where will you be sleeping?"

Redressed, he gestured to the fur pallet. Both katanas were placed at the head of the bed — within arm's reach and precautionary.

She gulped. "And… where should I sleep?"

"There is room enough for two."

"N-No!" Visibly bristling, Kagome vigorously shook her head. "Absolutely not!" Red flushed her cheeks as she cast panicked glances around the miniscule living space. Anywhere but at him.

Inclining his head, he growled, "You are mistaken if you think I'm going to sleep on the floor."

"I-I could give you the blanket."

"By all means, bring it with you." Long fingers wrapped around her wrist, halting her escape. Tugging gently, he urged her kneel before him. Red-faced and nervous, the flustered girl sputtered in his hold. "The air is cold. You may sleep close tonight."

She seemed to prickle even more at his offer. "That's definitely not appropriate!"

He shrugged. "Yet, I will allow it."

"Oh? You'll allow it, will you?" Kagome growled, wrenching free of his hold. As much as she knew it was hazardous to her health, the miko refused to budge on this. Acting all high and mighty! He's the one who told me not to treat him like a lord! It was on the tip of her tongue to give him a verbal lashing, but the darkening glare in his eyes stole her bark. Incredulous, she folded her arms to her chest. "How do I know you won't try anything?"

His snort could only be described as derisive. "Don't flatter yourself. I prefer my women more experienced."

"Rude!"

"Quit dawdling," he grunted with a shrug, effectively dismissing her. "We leave before sunrise." Conversation over, Sesshoumaru laid back and tossed his jinbaori over his legs, snagging a portion of the blanket for good measure.

It was like a million butterflies. Hummingbirds. Bees. All the fluttery, buzzing feelings tickled the inside of her belly and sent chills running between her shoulders. Fidgeting in place, Kagome bore holes into her section of the pallet — if she could even call it that. While the bedding was made for two, the way Sesshoumaru sprawled out made the prospect of sleeping without touching him nearly impossible. I might as well sleep on the floor! And that was even less appealing. Swallowing a whimper, she shuffled and laid on her side, back facing the ronin.

All the while, Kagome knew he was watching her. She could feel his stare digging into her skull. Or the sheer amount of body heat he radiated. Her toes curled, and she tugged the blanket up to her chin. Throwing a half-hearted glare, she barked with a blush, "Stay on your side!"

Lips quirked, he hummed, "As you say, miko."

. • º | | º • .

A wisp. A flicker.

"Go! Run!"

Narrow tongues of flame licked from oil wicks in the dark corners of the inner palace. A low, warm glow illuminated the Lady's chambers. Behind gossamer curtains, a woman in elaborate robes sat, carefully eyeing her youngest attendant. The girl, quiet and docile, bowed and set about her task. Small fingers plucked and primped — painted and polished — before holding up a mirror for her Lady's inspection.

Fire cracked, and smoke plumed in the narrow hallways of the castle. Shouts and bells rattled through the red-lit corridors, and a girl scrambled to her grandmother's chambers, a cry tearing from her throat.

"Absolutely not!" the Lady barked, smacking the mirror from the girl's hand. A second strike connected with the side of her face. "I've told you before! Not this color!"

Wordlessly, the girl bowed.

A knock interrupted the session, and the Lady beckoned with a calm command. Kneeling in the doorway, an elderly servant dipped at their shoulders.

"Pardon the intrusion, my Lady. Ryūkotsusei-sama requests the girl."

"His pet?" The Lady snorted. She couldn't understand her lord's want to keep the little urchin. She was worthless. "Fine. He may take her. I've had enough of her for today."

Cooly, the elder called, "Come, girl."

"Grandma! Grandma!" The girl gasped, hastily pulling aside the panel. Tears streamed down her face. Coughing against the rising heat and smoke, the girl rushed and frantically clung to the plush fur that spilled over of her elder's shoulders. "Hurry! Inuyasha-no-niisama says we have to leave!"

The servant led her from the Lady's chambers and through the winding halls. Kneeling before a sliding panel, the pair listened as raised voices erupted from the room.

"The Fool of Owari dares to bark at my gates!" A lord's indignation.

"Truly barbaric, my lord." A placating concession.

"Did I not steal Mino from under his nose? Did he and the Saitō clan learn nothing!" [3]

"My lord, your capture of Mino from both clans was absolute. Truly worthy of the title of Dragon of the East. Oda was lucky to escape with his life," came a mollifying reply. "They are a small clan, my lord. It should not be a problem for you to suppress them. And claim Owari in the process."

The voices pitched low, and the elder knocked, announcing their presence with a clear tone. From the other side, a low summons replied.

Her back faced the door. Long silver hair and white fur billowed over royal shoulders and vibrant silks. The woman never moved — not even to acknowledge the child clinging to her person — and the girl whimpered at the sight. The woman sat in perfect seiza, legs bound and red staining her many silks. A bloodied tanto at her side.

"I've brought the girl as requested, my lord." Foreheads pressed to the tatami, the pair prostrated themselves before their lord.

Ryūkotsusei snorted, towering over the girl. He didn't know what possessed him to keep the child, and though she never spoke, he found himself increasingly annoyed by her presence. She was no one special — just some brat he'd plucked from the ruin of the Kirishima castle, dingy and covered in dirt. It would have been within his rights to kill her, wearing the crest of his enemy and cowering before his sword. But he hadn't, and instead hauled back to his castle by her ridiculous little ponytail. Still, she managed to come in handy. Whether in the kitchens or when he needed something to kick around, she was a useful, worthless thing.

"Come along, girl." As she mutedly followed, he remembered that it was not pity or compassion that stayed his hand that day. Revenge. For the irreparable damage Kirishima Taisho had done to his arm — for the loss of his eye.

All to be exacted upon the last, pitiful survivor of that insignificant clan.

Down. Down into the lower depths of the castle until they halted in front of a pair of guards watching a dark door. The men bowed, opening the door to a dimly lit room. Longer than it was wide and largely unfurnished, a single copper bowl smoldered with hot embers, casting shadows. From the farthest end, chains rattled.

Striding forth, Ryūkotsusei bored down on his hostage.

The remains of her kosode lay in tatters, and her dark hair spilled over bared shoulders. Her cheeks were painted with bruises, each in various stages of healing. A pile of red fabric flecked with dried blood wrinkled under her knees, and naked limbs folded close. Thin lacerations crisscrossed her thighs and calves.

Scowling, he tilted her chin for a closer inspection.

"So," he began, turning her face side to side. "This is how my General treats my guests? I apologize for the poor hospitality, Kikyo-sama. And to think… you've only been here for a handful of days." Gesturing to one of the guards, the locks clicked free.

Numb limbs dropped heavily to her side. She remained still, only taking the moment to stare coldly at him.

"Girl!" At his bark, the child shuffled forward and bowed. "Take her to the baths. Have her dressed and bring her straight to me when you're done." Orders given, he left without a backwards glance.

Lifting her face, the girl approached with tender hands and mutedly encouraged the miko to stand. Small fingers gripped, leading the way. Up into the castle, through the long corridors to the bathing chambers set aside for guests. A large pool was raised off the ground, a fire blazing beneath to heat the grand bath. Setting out fresh undergarments, soaps, and scented oils, the girl assisted in removing ragged cloth before pitching them into a corner. The miko sunk into the heated bath, listless and quiet. Silence lingered with only the sound of bubbling water filling the air.

Cowering in a corner of the blazing courtyard, the girl wrapped thin arms around her knees. Away from the flames and beside the koi pond, ash and dirt smudge her skin and the blocks of her orange kimono. Names slipped through her teeth a broken sobs. She'd fled the castle, hoping to spot a familiar face in the chaos, but the courtyard was a field of bloodied bodies. No one appeared; only great plumes of smoke rising into the blackening night.

Washed and dried, the girl lead the way to a quiet guest room with feminine décor. Tall braziers flickered orange light in each corner. Though the room was unoccupied, another servant had set out several layers of folded silks for the lord's guest. And with some practice, the girl aided Kikyo into her many layers of borrowed finery.

"You…"

It was the barest of whispers. The first word spoken by the captured miko not out of duress. A crack in the calm facade, chilled fingers trembled as they captured the girl's face. Brown eyes met as long moments passed between them.

"I know you…"

It was better back then — before the war. Sun-dappled and giddy, the girl tousled in fields of flowers, and she squealed as strong arms hoisted her onto strong shoulders. "Come on, kiddo! Hang out with your Uncle today. Let's go visit the girls!"

A whimper. It stung. A burn licked behind the girl's eyes, her vision blurring as she gulped in a ragged breath. Droplets beaded. Heart hammering within her tiny ribs, thin fingers crumpled silk without a second thought.

"K-Ki…-" she choked. The sound of her voice was strange to her own ears. "K-Kikyo-sama…"

Steady arms wrapped around small shoulders, drawing the crying child into warm, colorful layers. "Oh, Rin…" Kikyo soothed, patting her head as childish sobs muffled into gasping hiccups. They rocked in silence. She never thought anyone would have survived that long night. Least of all the youngest of the Kirishima clan.

Her love certainly hadn't.

Moments passed, and the pair tucked closer and tighter with each swaying motion. There was no way she could leave the girl here. Not after what they both had been through. They were prisoners of this place. And Ryūkotsusei was not the sort of man to oblige the requests of his captives.

Anger mounted with each breath. In the shadows of the room, Kikyo could feel it nipping at her belly. A small spark that gradually burned hotly, tugging her in every direction with thinly-concealed rage. Belated fury at the loss of everything she'd come to know. At the one who put calloused hands on her person — who took and took and took. And to the one who stole it all: her life, her love, her future. Still stroking Rin's hair, Kikyo pondered options and possible outcomes. It was a gamble, and if she played her chips right, things could work in her favor.

A knock sounded from the hall.

"Lord Ryūkotsusei-sama demands your presence."

Time was up.

Using the edge of her sleeve, Kikyo dabbed at Rin's cheeks. "Do not cry. We will leave this place." They would. They had to.

Leaving the girl behind, the miko followed the servant to lord's chambers.

"Enter," he rumbled.

Panels sliding aside, the miko freshly bathed and attired, shuffled in. Dressed more elegantly than her station permitted, Kikyo knelt before him. Unbowing. Unyielding.

Ryūkotsusei sneered, all teeth. "Oh? No respect for your lord?"

"I have no respect for anyone right now," she replied, cold.

Her retort was splendid, and Ryūkotsusei commanded a tray be brought for his guest. "Surely you must be starved. My dungeons are not known for their careful tending."

Her glare deepened. The tray of small dishes was ignored.

Snorting, the lord cut to his own chase. "Naraku has done you wrong. Shamed you, I am sure." Ryūkotsusei did not elaborate — he did not need to — and was content to let his words hang between them. "What if I could help you get revenge?"

Fingers clenched in burgundy silk. "Does that include against you, my lord?"

"If it would win your assistance, then yes."

Kikyo did not smile, but seemed to respond favorably to his offer. "Then yes, I'll help you..."

Ryūkotsusei clapped his thigh, a feral grin stretching across his features. "Wonderful!" Standing, he crossed the distance and crouched before her. "My General is up to something," he growled. But when was Naraku never not sneaking around. He'd known from the very beginning — when an ambitious young samurai came bearing gifts at his doorstep — that Naraku was not to be trusted. "Tell me, where is he headed?"

"Under one condition..."

. • º | | º • .

End Note: Late posting this on this site. So here's the most recently finished chapter.

[1] - hara-kiri is the term for ritual suicide committed by either samurai or noble castes in Japan, though it was sometimes documented in the peasantry as well. I went with hara-kiri, since it is the native Japanese kun reading of the kanji.

[2] - The Tosandō (or Nakasendō, post-Sekigahara Tokugawa era) was a series of highways that connected small post-towns and capitals through the eastern mountain region, that eventually led to Kyoto and Edo. There were checkpoints, or sekisho, situated along the route that controlled the flow of traffic (especially criminals, suspicious persons, and women). The highways were travelled by all manner of sorts, and banditry was a common problem.

[3] - Oda Nobunaga, or The Fool of Owari per his nickname, tried to solidify his rise to power by allying with Saitō Dōsan and attacking Saitō Yoshitatsu in 1556 in the Mino province. In the real history, it was a failure. In this work of fiction, while the Oda and Saitō clans fought, Ryūkotsusei swooped in during the confusion and chased them both out, thus capturing Mino for himself.