Okay here is a nice long chapter (hardly any dialogue, lots of plot) in return for ignoring this fic for so long. I hope you forgive me.

This is the second version of this chapter, thank you to the person who pointed out the mistakes. Thank you for all the reviews.

Chapter 3

Jien awoke to the sight of his mother on her knees by his fathers restless form. Her forehead was pressed hard into the flooring, her lips moved silently and in desperation. Long, wavy curls had broke free of their bonds, unbrushed and wild after many sleepless nights and they hid her tightly shut eyes as she frowned in deep concentration.

She was praying.

The 10 year old Jien watched his mother timidly from the chair in which he had spent the night. He had point blank refused to go to bed after his fathers entrance as his mother instructed, but now she was too busy nursing her husband to be angry with him.

Jien had wanted to help in some way, but all he did, all he could do, was watch as his mother call an absent doctor periodically; between mopping her patient's forehead, feeding and making him as comfortable as possible. Now, in the early hours of the morning she had stopped frantically dashing about with bowls of hot soup and cool towels and given up on trying to get her husband to answer her. He was caught in fevered dreams, his eyes only flickering open every so often with painful coughing, revealing dark blue eyes cloudy and without the recognition his wife desperately hoped for. His temperature was burning hot, although Sumire could not get the exactly height of the fever, the doctor was not in and she has nothing but food, painkillers and her own two hands to ease her husbands cries.

She was frightened and this she would admit even to herself. His breathing grew lighter; shallow and strained. The wheezing all came from his lungs, she guessed it was pneumonia, but she had no way of knowing and no way of taking action. What could she do? Her own husband, the man she loved, was dying and all she could do was watch.

Jien had never seen his mother pray, she spoke about Gods in only half hearted curses, not really believing they were there and his father had never believed in anything any more sanctimonious than begging for luck on his betting slips. In consequence, he himself had little faith in what he could not see. Seeing his mother prostrated in desperation seemed wrong, almost dirty, like he was witnessing some wholly private moment he wasn't meant to see.

Jien knew his father would die, his mother was praying for a miracle, but he felt sure that the following morning his father wouldn't wake up from his fevered dreams. He felt more than a little ashamed for not being more upset as his father lay on his death bed, they had always had a cheerful yet distant relationship, not seeing each other often, but still enjoying each others company. He was surprised and confused not to feel any terrible sadness. The true pull on his heart went to his mother. He had watched silently as she had spent an over night vigil by his fathers side and had heard her sobbing where she thought he could not hear. As far as he had been aware his mother was strong and fearless, she did not cry.

Sha Ren, his father, had been lying on their couch since he had burst through the door the night before, soaked to the skin and his eyes wild with fever. It had been around 11:00 at night when Jien awoke to hear his mother frantically heaving his father's dead weight over to the couch, trying to remove his dripping wet clothing and dry him off all at the same time. She roughly pulled the bundle he clung so close to his chest, out of his arms and almost threw it aside, until of course she felt it wriggle

In her arms, wrapped in layer upon layer of blankets, was a baby. Barely a month old, it had slept the journey to their house in sweet dreams, apparently untouched by icy autumn rain. Sumire's eyes were wide with shock as she unwrapped the baby and found herself staring into a pair of wide, blood red eyes. Soft tears ran down her face before gently placing the bundle on the floor and focusing her efforts back on her husband.

In snippets and moans, Ren told Sumire about his affair and the death of Goyjo's mother. He didn't beg for forgiveness, he was frank Her told her everything. He had spent the night before in the gutter, after a drinking binge lasting days. He knew he was sick, he said he thought he was dying. This was said with no great sadness, he had brought the baby to the safest place he could think of.

"His name is Goyjo." He began, his confession interrupted by a blinding pain in his stomach, he looked up at his wife, eyes full of the same warmth and devotion she had always imaged he had for her. She stroked his hair softly. "Please take care of him, Su. No orphanage, please, I remember, I wouldn't wish that on anyone let alone my own son."

Sumire flinched at these words and more tears followed as Ren began a coughing fit, his whole body rocking as he hacked out phlegm and blood. He smiled up at her weakly, the same roguish smile glinting behind crackled bloody lips.

They turned out to be Ren's last words, the last coherent ones in any case. For the rest of his hours he would be writhing in agony as his stomach wrenched and his eyes turned glassy and dead with fever.

Sumire stayed by his side for the night and the following day, her hand desperately clutching to his. So intensely her knuckles turned white and her face red with tears and anguish.

He passed out at 6:00pm, his fevered curses and cries silenced.

By 2:00am he was dead.

For the first time since he had arrived, Goyjo began to cry. Weary, Sumire filled Jien's old bottle with milk and began the thankless task of caring for the infant, the obligation that would last for years. Passive and unresponsive Sumire held the baby at arms length when possible, silent and cold she felt nothing but her broken heart throbbing in her chest.

There had been no love when she looked into Goyjos eyes. There never would be.

Sha Ren met Aniko in late April a little more than 8 months before Goyjo turned up on Jiens doorstep. Aniko was not her real name, but it was what she was generally known as to the male population of the town, her real name was not of importance for no one had ever taken the time to ask and even then, she would not have told. She was known as a whore, a reputation not entirely undeserved except for the fact that she did not except money for the time she spent on her back. For Aniko it was always about pleasure and she sought it in abundance.

Her own origins were also unknown to anyone, even those who knew her for longer than a quick one against the wall. One day she had just come into town, found lodging and that was that. This was not unusual, a vast collection of waifs and strays littered the streets and the cheapest housing, looking for work which did not exist or just waiting to pass through onto the next small town through the hills. No one knew her story, if, in fact, she had one to tell, and now no one would know, as she died more alone then she deserved.

Aesthetically, she was decidedly average. Middle sized, in both height and weight with short brown hair with light brown eyes, both the colour of milky mocha. She had a wild smile, and her eyes showed deep crows feet when she laughed, which itself, was loud and hearty. Her legs, however, rather than her face, was what attracted Sha Ren and many other men; they were slim and smooth and tapered perfectly down from her ass, which she would consciously swing in tight circles as she walked. Needless to say, she had the rack to match.

Fiery and flirtatious, Ren and Aniko's affair was short lived, one night of passion after a night of uncontrolled drinking; but that was all it took. They parted without words, neither with much regret. They had both got what they wanted and slipped away satisfied.

Why they had done it would remain a mystery in itself, when Ren had a wife and a young boy at home and Aniko had the pick of any of the human men in the town, both single and otherwise. Union between youkai and human is a taboo, not meant to be for reasons both medical and from centuries of superstition. Not to say that humans and youkai don't give in to temptation, taboo or not, affairs are more common than the public are more likely to admit. Pregnancy however is another matter, its rare, very rare, and it's even less common for the woman to give birth. The human or youkai body often rejects the mixed child and miscarriages and complications are often the end of them both. Why this happens, no one knows exactly, medically that is. The strongest superstition is that a child of taboo is bad luck, and this is not hard to believe with the amount of shame that befalls the mother, if she survives both the pregnancy and childbirth. Intercourse between the two races is forbidden and that starts the innocent child on the worst footing ever, some ending up in orphanages, to the few places that will take them in without fear of disaster or prejudice, but more often they live on the streets. This was the legacy Goyjo would have to bear for his parents carelessness.

Aniko became pregnant and gave birth in November, more than a month before she was due. She burst into the local doctors office, drenched and sticky with blood and fluid, cursing the child, cursing the Gods but cursing Sha Ren loudest of all.

The contractions lasted for 18 hours and were filled with wretched tears, death threats and blood curdling screams as the doctor fought for both Anikos and the baby's lives.

Goyjo was born drenched in pain, sweat and blood, screaming heartily from his tiny lungs as his mother sobbed into her hands. He was a tiny 4 lbs 2oz, but perfectly healthy for his size. His name, Goyjo, was eventually given to him by the visiting doctor at the time, as even weeks after the birth his mother refused to hold or even look at her child. She would only cry out of shame and tell the doctor desperately that she didn't want her baby, pushing him away again and again as he approached her with her own flesh and blood.

Ren had not known about the pregnancy, but at the time was not living with his family. After extensive arguments with Sumire, he had moved into a small Inn a few miles from home to wait out his wife's anger far from where she could hurl crockery at him.

It was entire surprise when Goyjo turned up in the doctors arms at his doorstep. Ren took to the child, not having much faith in anything, let alone superstition. He was a youkai with, perhaps, too many faults, but it cannot be said that his heart wasn't in the right place as he took responsibility for his son without question or argument. He saw himself in the boys face, despite the burning scarlet of his eyes and hair, and knew what is was like not to be wanted. Nevertheless, it was a clumsy arrangement, he tentatively dealt with Goyjo, without having the slightest clue how to properly care for him. He left Goyjo alone often, as he could get no one to take him for the days when he had to work. Eventually he took time off, at expense of his own employment, but after 4 days of this he soon found himself out of work. There was always someone begging for his job in this town, someone without a child to care for, willing to work for almost nothing.

Aniko had died, alone in her room after an infection had got into her blood stream. She had not left her bed since the birth and refused all food or medicine since, ignoring both the doctors and Ren's visits. Literally, she wasted away, the illness eating her away from the inside as she starved her withered body. Her shapely limbs now lay like fragile twigs, as her flesh began to discolour and fever took her mind far away from her depression. She believed she would die after Goyjo was born, she believed in the inescapable bad luck that she had brought upon herself, she believed it without question. One thing was correct however, she would die, but not before she suffered for weeks, caught inside her own shame and sorrow. By the time the doctor got the authorities to intervene, it was too late, her body already looked like that of a skeleton, Ren could not pay for a funeral and so she went to rest in an unmarked paupers grave. It grew wild and untended, then forgotten, even in death she never was reunited with her son for her grave remained unvisited.

Goyjo's mother was human, that was all the truth Jien had ever heard about Goyjo's origins, except of course that she was dead; a fact that never failed to comfort his own mother, who said it with relish whenever asked.

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