Heyya! I'm terribly sorry for not updating in a really long time. My letter of apology is at the end of the chapter (this chapter is special because it's divided into two parts, the apology is after the second part) and the second part is an Inuyasha special aaand, this is the chapter about the long anticipated (and frequently postponed until now ) AGERU!!! yaaay. Ok ! enjoy and review

To What Extent Some Go... Part I

The rule of Ageru: destroy all targets and obstructions. Many Shitatsupa failed to understand this rule completely and nobody has explained anything further beyond that line. Thus, many of the Shitatsupa came up with our own concept. Doesn't killing require strategy? Where is the strategy in Ageru?

---

Rin's gaze lingered on the shadowy form of Yazu who propped himself against the same tree where their feud had occurred only minutes ago. Although the sun was behind him, she swore she had caught the line of a sleek grin plastered to his narcissistic face. As if to acknowledge Rin's gaze, Yazu, tapped the band of his Hakama. Rin whirled her head in disgust and resentment; sparing her the embarrassment but earning her a crick in the neck which added to her nausea. She clutched her Naginata and rubbed her back with her spare hand. She needed to be strong in order to face the knotted and bristled surface of the twine used to flog the Shitatsupa.

Strength: Rin knew that she lacked physical strength as compared to her other team members. Musashi and Endan both had the physical build meant for brute power. They were capable of what seemed like impossible human feats. Kira, a fellow female Naginata bearer had a flawless body toned with ideal curvatures. When Rin was younger, she had observed Kira with awe. Kira's muscles rippled under the weight of the Naginata and when she thrust the Naginata forward to spear the false target, her back would arch gracefully to increase the attack power and strength. Kira was born to wield the Naginata, Rin mused. Kira, however had all but one flaw: she patronized all male inhabitants of the village. Rin knew this too well. Kira, a fellow female Naginata bearer had a flawless body toned with ideal curvatures. Kira's muscles rippled under the weight of the man and when she thrust herself forward, her back would arch gracefully to increase the attack power and strength. Rin found an uncanny resemblance of a Naginata to a lover. That was probably why the Naginata was associated with the female, she mused yet again.

She stared at the hilt of her Naginata and she eased her grip.

Being the only Naginata bearer who was a Shitatsupa, Rin was the only one who held such a large short-range weapon. She scowled when she realized the suggestiveness of the Naginata techniques she would demonstrate.

She merely forced the fact that she would be flogged today back into her mind. Yazu probably meant what he said.

"Call me then!" Rin hollered hoarsely to the figure in the shadows that had hidden himself as easy as a moth on the course bark of a tree. Yazu's hand was probably courser then a tree's bark.

"You'd regret what you have just said Rin-Chan!" came a twisted reply. Before Rin's retort left her mouth, Yuragu called for all Shitatsupa to line up.

"Who are you?" Yuragu cried, invoking the ancient protocol.

"Shitatsupa!" They roared. Rin's skin prickled with goose bumps as the sonorous cries echoed and bounced through the walls of the village and came back in vibrating compressions. The ground shook under the Shitatsupa's feet as they declared their loyalty.

Basic instructions were given for the Shitatsupa to gather in their teams. Rin stood in solitude. This year she did not have Kira to stand behind in the shadows. Was she jealous of Kira for being so sociable? Rin honestly had no clue; she never yearned for popularity although she was given an exceptional level of respect due to Yuragu's constant watch over her.

Rin's headache was relatively better compared to the beginning of the day. However, as she drew nearer to her fate, Rin allowed herself to be wearied by the impending flogging; although she was indifferent to hurt, the anxiety of anticipating the abuse as well as the mental stress was challenging even for Rin to suppress. It was in times like these when Rin pondered about her Lord. She had always associated Sesshomaru to pain and it was probably because he was the one who had introduced her to an entirely new spectrum of faith. Rin followed no religion. She sneered; no religion would take her anyway. After her years of assessing her life, she had acquired a belief, pain is life and happiness is only the beginning of another circle of misfortune. She believed in the Shinigami. In fact, Rin was sure the Kami's had assigned her many of their pallbearers to make sure she did not defy death yet again.

A set of straw figures with bamboo in the cores to replicate real bone and muscle were placed in the center of the rink.

---

The first round of observation was meant for the Shitatsupa who were trained in ranged weapons. Five of them surrounded the figurines. I could see that two were trained in the Shuriken from their outfits: a secretive Gi with extended and exaggerated sleeves to confuse opponents as to where the shuriken would be thrown from. Fancy and good for deception, yet, the prissy garb had its drawbacks. I had witnessed, too many times, inconsistent and inexperienced shuriken wielders who had caught their Poison Shuriken in their fancy sleeves. If they were lucky, the thick layers protected their skin form the poisoned Shuriken tips. However, with the perfection of the technology produced in this village, our dangerous arsenal of Shuriken which came in the series could kill when it grazed the skin. The poison is so advanced and potent that even our antidotes had no effect. The lucky ones die a night later.

The rest of the Shitatsupa who were from Ranged Weapon teams was a tall, lean and tanned Wolf Dai-Youkai that used the Short-range and was rumored to be a vagabond prince as well as two Kusarigama wielders who reminded me of a face I had seen so long ago.

"Hajime!"

Immediately, the Shuriken wielders who seemed unaffected by the heat whipped out their Shuriken as I had anticipated. In a pained flash of steel, a dull thud resonated followed by a shriek of pain. I saw only one Shuriken embedded into the section of the straw representing the head. I saw only one unfortunate Shuriken wielder clutching his right arm in a blood-soaked arm guard. As he lay under the heat, no body except for death approached him. I watched silently, showing no signs of feeling disturbed. It was an unnerving scene to observe as he lay writhing on the ground. I found it difficult to even peal my eyes away from him and my neck was locked. I was watching him die slowly and without a doubt, allowing my eyes to gorge on the gore with fascination. The poison had an immediate effect and soon he would experience a seizure. Foam collected from the contorted edges of his lips which twitched disgustingly and the unfortunate Shitatsupa lay in a pool of blood and sweat. He must have cut himself deeply for so much blood to spurt. Since the poison of the Poison-Shuriken was so effective, it had no real need to slice. His lips were turning purple and his back curled grotesquely.

A shriek erupted from the crowd of ex-Shitatsupa and the majority of the crowd's attention was shifted to a bawling female Youkai in the crowds. I sneered at the evitable. I do not love for the mere reason that all things you love will come to an end. Why should you burden yourself with the knowledge that one you may treasure will be gone someday? It is safer to either be indifferent or loathe.

The Wolf Youkai, as if disgusted by the dying Shitatsupa paused from his long assault on the straw figures which sported an accurate line of arrows and turned his stance to the fallen comrade. With an audible sneer, he aimed, and shot. The arrow that was lodged into the depths of the near-dead Shuriken wielder's throat bobbed grotesquely with his last breaths and his moans ceased. I had nothing to say and I doubt anyone else who observed the drama wanted to say anything either. I turned my head to the elder assassins who were in avid discussion. The Shuriken team which was the largest in number compared to us remained still and motionless and silently grieved another death. Mortality rate was high in that team so it was natural. Nevertheless, each assassin here has been acquainted to death at some point.

After the ranged-weapon's Shitatsupa were done with their targets, the five figures were "headless" and two were detached in the center from the Kusarigama. Shuriken were embedded into the replicated limbs and there was a clean line of arrows on the supposed chests: Nothing less from the ranged weapons Shitatsupa who were miraculously out of the heat.

The next category of Shitatsupa to be observed was inevitably the short-range weapons. The ten of us had to attack the dummies displayed with any five random techniques which were taught to us: Simple? Perhaps simple was an understatement. It is difficult for ten heavily armed Shitatsupa to approach a dummy without a decent squabble amongst who gets which dummy. Thus Ageru for the short-range weapon holders was also individual miniature-fights. There was also the generic rush to attempt to sever the dummy made of fire rat pelts which was used only with the short-range weapons.

The Shitatsupa are an immature and non-insightful lot. They lack the "touch" which is prominent amongst older or perhaps, more experienced assassins who hold great levels of control and power. The Shitatsupa are comparable to common dogs: blindly accepting truth, bulldozing into trouble as well as into one another's futon: Disgusting. Our round of Ageru would take perhaps a half-hour. It depended on the judgment of the ex-Shitatsupa.

My back was ticklish under a strange burning sensation. This feeling shows itself when I am nervous and uneasy. I slapped my back and the sensation retorted and continued: this time in my right palm. Never before had I experienced such a situation (usually because I leave the pain alone). However, the last time I had felt as such was when I was captured by Naraku and lay in his hands, waiting, waiting, waiting… waiting for Sesshomaru to come which was years ago. Now as I ponder upon this, I probably feel so because I am anticipating an immense physical hurt. Pah, flogging, I've been hit once by a bamboo in my childhood. Wait- I did not feel such a burning sensation then. Now that I have revived such an insignificant thought, the theory that I feel the burn before I anticipate immense pain does not stand.

What am I doing thinking of such things before Ageru?! I snapped my thought-wearied mind back to Ageru.

"Hajime!"

I progressed slowly around the mass of nine people who charged directly to the fire rat dummy, as expected. I felt a long sway in the crowd of ex-Shitatsupa who had gathered. They probably felt bored at the age old custom. My grip on the hilt of my Naginata had been affected as a sudden prickling erupted from my palm. As much as I admit to be indifferent to the physical touch (apart from sexual advances), I must confess, I am ticklish. But, I AM immune to other physical hurt that many people are unable to bear. That makes me different.

I had seen a flailing opportunity, but an opportunity nonetheless to spear a dummy through a thin gap made form the mass of brainless Shitatsupa. Once in the ancient past, a foolish Shitatsupa stood away from the attacking crowd as he saw little hope in managing to even tackle one dummy with the coagulated mass of Youki, sweat and stench. Of course, he was flogged, flogged to death. He had insulted the ancient characteristic of an assassin: never stand aside in a feud. Despite my sadism, I value my life.

My minute opportunity however, was shattered when my Naginata was deflected off the blade lock of a kendo stick and a katana blade: two imprudent Shitatsupa who had chosen to waste their time sparring then to hit the dummies. I was enraged at my loss of opportunity. Although I rarely showed my rage, the spirit which had been adopted by the Shitatsupa about to go for Ageru which had also entered me made it an obligation to get angry and furious. Further more, I wished to waste no time with attempting to scratch the dummies to avoid flogging to the death. After I marred this dummy, I would sit down and wait for Yazu to call my name.

As if to fuel my frustration, my headache boiled again, returning to me with triple the wrath. The sweat, the cries, the swords…

"TYPICAL!" I shrieked at the loss of an opportunity, although I knew I would regret such a display of emotion later. I parried the blade lock of the kendo and the katana with an intense fury. I had probably upset and startled the two duelists but I took no time to observe their facial expressions. I pushed away from the attacking crowd and lunged at the target. It was a small opportunity. Focusing, I saw nothing but the square inch on the dummy. Sesshomaru-sama unexpectedly appeared in my vision. I was shocked, if not enraged at the appearance. I could not comprehend, for all the knowledge I hold why he of all people would appear. I lunged forward; harder, drawing my stance from the ground, the prickly sensation arising once more.

Lunge.

There was an ominous rip and before me, the dummy was clearly shred in two. A pain-ridden yowl filled my ears next and I turned to my right to see the Katana wielder gripping a bloodied arm. His blood pooled near his feet and my Naginata appeared as if it was dipped into red ink used to write death sentences. In reality, it was drenched in a substance, that when one lacked, would die.

---

An hour later

I leaned against a decayed tree trunk, mingling with the nostalgic smell of the common ivy and the moist smell of wood which contradicts the harsh weather. The smell which lingered around my nose reminded me of my years as a child, blindly following Sesshomaru without a doubt and waiting… waiting for him amongst the low shrubbery with Jaken; sleeping under the vast sky whilst waiting for his return. Very recently, I have found myself thinking of Sesshomaru frequently before I face trials. It is probably because, no matter how hard I try to forget, a deep stain which remains on my tainted soul binds me to the fact that he was always my protector and benefactor; although now, I urge myself to forget that fact because now, I am assassin. Better then human and equal to Youkai. I need no protector.

I am remaining for my "punishment". Yes, it is an unfair flogging for I know I have done no wrong other than to refuse Yazu's futon but, this flogging will announce my strength to Yazu and the village of assassins. I will make it known that I am no mere human. I am better than a human. My mental strength is beyond normal and I will demonstrate this by accepting the flogging calmly. When the strikes come, I will not scream like unofficial history demands. I will also be proving Yazu on how insipidly witless he is by turning this flogging got my advantage. I would probably gain more respect and recognition from other teams. Then, those males living on high hormonal drives would stop harassing me.

It seems as if I am on a journey for perfection. But I say that perfection is a virtual object. It can be seen but cannot be touched, thus the term virtual. Perfection is unreal. What I would call myself, a person dissatisfied with her present power. I am on a journey for greater power and upgrading. There is no term for it but it can be simply stated as, I want to outdo the greatest power in existence. Perhaps, my goal can also be translated as: I want to destroy Sesshomaru.

To my left, a group surrounded the Neko-Youkai whose left arm I had just severed. I recognized him as one who had a reputable temper, limited wit and the ability to hold ancient grudges. He shot me a look of pained fury. I smiled inwardly, it was the face of a beaten coward.

I feel no remorse about hacking off his left arm. It was his fault for standing in my path. I will do so to all those who obstruct me.

"Rin"

I had been absorbed in my thoughts that I had shut all input from my ears and missed all the cries of flogged Shitatsupa. Nobody usually stayed to watch the punishment so the quadrangle was relatively empty apart from morbid onlookers and the group sympathizing over the Neko-Youkai's missing arm.

I don't know. I was fazed by the heat and Yuragu's shadow. His left hand gripped my arm. From his tensed palm, it seemed that he was gripping me like a vice. Contrary to that, his hand was, was it, trembling? No, it was more like quivering. As if, he was reluctant to whip me. His steps, I could sense were hesitant as well. His right palm stank of the musky smell of ancient leather. Bits of disintegrated pig skin from the handle of the whip traced his blistered hand. That was the deal for agreeing to be the representative of the assassins. I reached over and touched his hand. He glanced at me, and hesitated. My facial reaction remained stoic but I tipped my chin slightly. Yuragu quickly turned away. I noted his hesitancy and panic which was odd for his personality (A/N I'm sorry, I know I haven't elaborated on Yuragu's Character but I will later. Gimme feedback ok?). I noted only the Shitatsupa who had already been whipped. They were sprawled on the floor in a degrading position. Some were in obvious pain as their faces were contorted and their eyebrows were tightly knotted. None of them were moaning though. I also noted that I was the last of those to be flogged. Amongst the five victims of the humiliating Shitatsupa, I sighted the Youkai who had put the careless Shuriken wielder to peace. He sat with his back stiff. I admired how he managed to keep his face straight unlike the others. He caught my sideward glance and momentarily held my gaze however, he turned his head slightly to observe the shadows cast by tearing female figure whom I recognized as the female companion of the dead Shuriken wielder.

When I reached the stand for the flogging, no significant feeling was present in my mind. I would not describe it as focusing; perhaps I was attempting to distract myself from something. I allowed myself to kneel into a lowly position to receive the 5 blows. One needs to shed his dignity in order to gain more. Perhaps I can explain it with one needing less weight in order to be catapulted higher.

My outer protective vest was removed and the only piece of cloth which would conceal me from the Yazu's eyes was a thin and white woven textile which tightly bound around my chest. I stole a glance and spotted my team members. Their faces were grave except for Kira who had a look of pained restriction, as if trying to conceal another facial expression. To me, she looked extremely pretentious. She had probably heard from Yazu about what was going to happen. Kira has never been an ally of mine probably because of the difference of our personalities. Musashi had tried to bargain my way out of the flogging blaming the heat and how women were usually spared from flogging. I smirked when I saw him pleading with Yuragu who also seemed shocked at me being chosen. Yuragu had no power to decide who would be spared the whip. Musashi knew me very little. I would never allow insignificant factors such as the heat to affect my performance and I am both physically and mentally equal to Youkai. Youkai are better then Man who are better than women, Thus, I may be flogged.

Yazu stood alone under the same tree I sat under earlier. My eyes did allow me to view his face but him being a Youkai, he probably was able to read my expression very clearly from where he was.

I could feel the heat radiated by Yuragu and his Youki made an insignificant increase as he held the whip in his right hand. The air had an eerie quietness. The silence mad a buzzing sound within my ears. I had never been flogged before… this is my first experience. It should be special right? I laughed inwardly. I did not feel fear, but a strange ecstasy. Was it unnatural to feel as such? Probably not because I was ecstatic anticipating the rewards after the flogging.

"Shitatsupa tsukuru o"

Yuragu murmured. That was what he said before he raised his right arm to whip. Suddenly, a deep feeling of panic arose and I mentally jumped to suppress it. As much as I try to keep my emotions as legendary as such, I will never be able to completely eliminate the fact that I am still fifteen. A young near-women with a personality of a young girl barricaded by a looming wall of defense which signified an older, more mature and sadistic personality erected by her unusual life as an assassin. I had no time to enjoy normal fifteen year old thoughts of fear and ecstasy. I needed to become an assassin quickly and fear no punishment or judgment.

White, livid, searing pain echoed through my body the moment the whip made contact with my back. It felt as if the whip's impact knocked through my bones and my ribs felt like breaking! Breaking! The shock and pain rose from my ribs towards my lungs and pushed upwards towards my throat!

My face contorted and the lids of my eyes squeezed shut. I did not scream though. I had managed to contain the pain although I admit that the level of pain was beyond my expectations. I could feel a liquid run down my back. It was probably my blood.

I could hear Yuragu panting but I had no idea why. My head felt light and dizzy and I felt as if was drifting away from my main body.

"Shitatsupa! tsukuru o"

I heard him say again. I also felt the whip touch my back. Touch! I felt no pain this time. I was staring at the straw I was kneeling on but suddenly my vision was filled with the hallucination of thick knots which I recognized as that which made the whip. I knew that I was not looking at the whip as it was whipping me as it was physically impossible but I felt mind's eye traveling up the rope! Higher! Faster! I urged myself out of morbid curiosity. I could no longer feel the pain that earlier was rocketing through my body but I was focused on reaching the end of my whip: destined to the hand of Yuragu that was whipping me. In this state, I felt no sense of right or wrong. No- I nothing is absolutely right or wrong. I felt no morals in my head. I felt… what was it; free and unrestrained.

"Shitatsupa… t-sukuru… o!"

Again! I heard his voice. But! My vision was already coursing high above his arm. My vision was that I was traveling up Yuragu's toned right arm. I was coursing up high and fast until, my vision reached his back and it stopped. I was neither afraid nor curious. All I felt was the need to mar his back as well. I was aware that my body was still kneeling and I was currently receiving my third whip which I hardly felt however, I was feeling and seeing something entirely different. I now was viewing Yuragu whipping me form behind Yuragu himself! I felt no sense of queerness, shock or disbelief. With my morals missing, I merely felt amusement.

I was driven.

Driven.

I rammed forward in my virtual self and into Yuragu's back. For a second, nothing was apparent and I was caught on a thin and precarious silence.

"Urgh!"

Yuragu's gulp and a dull thump pulled my virtual existence back into my real body and now, feelings of disbelief returned to me. It felt like a dream where one could do morally impossible things and yet feel that it was right. What was I to talk about morals?

I twisted my back to support myself lying down on the floor. I stared. To my right, Yuragu crouched, tightly gripping his right arm which was stained with blood. Whose blood? He turned his head to me…

I was locked in his aquamarine eyes. The look drew me in and I was captivated. He was not glaring nor was he just glancing. I recognized the look; it was that of deep and ultimate pain.

Pain!

Something was deeply wrong. Why was I feeling no pain? There was blood trickling down my back, yes… but no pain.

"uurh… Ri-"

Yuragu's words were slurred and from a crouched position, he fell to the ground. His back was towards me and under his long black hair, I saw….

A riddle of slashes and new blood clots were streaked violently across his back. I saw nothing but his blood and sweat droplets as well as the pained vibrating of his back muscles and rough breathing. I felt as if I was slipping into a familiar darkness like a blade smoothly slipping into the darkness of its saya… it was not the darkness I felt when I died before. I had fainted.

Haha ok! That's part one. Part two is the Inuyasha special yays to Inuyasha fans haha, see you there