A/N: Well now, this has been a long time coming. I apologize profusely for the late post, but midterms have been hounding me for the past three weeks. As a consolation, please find additional goodies at the end of this chapter. And Happy Halloween!
The One that Got Away
Slumped against one side of her hut, Rin stared uncomprehendingly at the wall, watching a brightly speckled beetle creep up the notches in the wood. She wanted to squash it. But it wasn't worth the effort to get up.
And…Kichiruka would've liked that bug.
Kichiruka liked everything.
And 'like' is a pretty generic sentiment. You could stop liking something on a whim. It didn't take much effort. You didn't have to stand up for something you liked, pursue it unendingly, strive to keep it close. Liking wasn't love. Kichiruka likes me.
Rin bolted upright. A faint trickle of yoki swirled into the room, rekindling her flagging spirits. But her last ember of hope snuffed out the second she placed that familiar prickle and pressure.
"Yes, Lord Sesshomaru?" she said, not bothering to raise her voice knowing he would hear her perfectly fine even outside.
The dog-demon declined to answer, instead allowing his aura to insinuate his request.
"Fine. Come in," Rin grumbled.
But Sesshomaru didn't enter, and the yoki heated to a point of discomfort. Come out.
Crossing her arms, Rin fought down the petulant urge to retort, "Make me." Instead, she stood slowly, feeling her knees pop like Kichiruka's used to when he was learning to walk.
Damn. Why did everything have to remind her of him?
Blinking into the warm, welcoming sunshine, Rin looked around for Sesshomaru. She spotted him leaning against the shady side of the hut that shared a dirt path alley with Rin's neighbor. It was the most removed from the public. Without moving, the daiyokai's gaze flicked in her direction. "It is nearly noon." With only the slightest inflection of his voice, Sesshomaru wrinkled the statement into an accusation.
"And so?"
Sesshomaru frowned. Rin immediately hung her head, biting down on her tongue.
"You have not ventured out for some time now." Rin had an idea of where he'd gotten the information when amber eyes shifted toward Inuyasha's and Kagome's home. "I am left to assume you must be having some interpersonal conflicts. The priestess called it 'boy trouble.'"
"I'll…get over it," Rin assured without sounding very sure of herself. Get over it in my next lifetime.
Sesshomaru's frown only deepened at the distress he smelled in those words. He wished Rin had told him something, clued him in sooner – but then again, he didn't know too much about such things either. Sesshomaru hated wasting time in matters he wasn't good with. But that wasn't acceptable. Not with Rin. She had been considering a potential mate without consulting him?
The daiyokai growled softly to himself. Even now he wasn't used to being comforting, but he knew that humans found solace in certainties. Stepping closer to the girl he'd given his protection, Sesshomaru gently lifted her chin and spoke solemnly. "I will kill him."
Is that supposed to make me laugh or cry? Even though she was on the verge of tears, Rin giggled hysterically because – just like she and Kichiruka had figured – Sesshomaru wasn't joking.
oOo
"You're kidding me." The length of Tensai's caudal fin rested over his low-rise desk and webbed claws laced over his stomach. Big, bright yellow eyes remained half closed in the picture of apathy.
"I, um, wanted to know…I mean, if you're willing to disclose…" Kichiruka wound some kelp between his fingers, making about as many knots in it as he felt in his tongue. So he just repeated his question. "What…what's your experience with humans?"
When Kichiruka opened his eyes he realized his teacher had already left the room.
Great. It's one of the topics he doesn't cover.
Suddenly, Tensai's head poked out of a cove from the floor Kichiruka hadn't previously noticed.
"Well? Are you coming or simply going to waste my time?" the old demon snapped. "This discussion will require more alcohol than I have in my study." He disappeared again, leaving it up to Kichiruka to follow if he wanted an answer.
Kichiruka peered into the tiny orifice, its impenetrable darkness seeming to go on. Apparently, Tensai knew a lot of these hidden caverns throughout Ichikawa's domain. Hopefully, it's safe. Not without some wriggling on his part, Kichiruka squirmed through the entrance. Then heard the grating of stone slabs behind him and the light to the outside world vanished.
"Calm yourself." Bright yellow eyes pierced through the darkness and Kichiruka did his best to find any bit of light that might emanate from them.
"Ow! Something stabbed me!" Kichiruka yipped.
A surprised yerk! escaped from Tensai's throat. "That's my nose, you idiot!"
"Well, watch where you –"
The swordfish swore vehemently, but Kichiruka could hear the clatter of glass as he reached for something. There was a swift shattering sound, then the space around them was illuminated.
"Say, that looks like fox fire!" Kichiruka marveled.
"That's because it is." Tensai tossed aside a bit of glass, presumably from a vial that had stored the potion. Webbed fingers fanned out and the cerulean flame gathered in the center of Tensai's palm. Even underwater the fox magic kept its natural properties. "These are only one-time deals, so you better stay close if it goes out."
Kichiruka nodded and followed after his teacher, sticking close as ordered. This place has more twists and turns than Ichikawa's palace. Twice Tensai had to turn around to collect his student again. Finally, after what had felt like going in pointless circles, they wound about one more bend before coming to a sheer wall.
Kichiruka patted the cliff face, checking for any keystones. "It's a dead end."
Tensai shook his head. Without reply, he handed Kichiruka the flickering fox fire. Mumbling a soft incantation to himself, Tensai pressed his hands to the gills on his neck. He motioned upwards.
"To where?" Kichiruka and could just barely make out his teacher's silhouette.
Tensai opened his mouth to snarl something, but the words came out garbled and he abruptly choked on the water they typically breathed.
Better do as he says.
They broke through the surface with the swordfish spluttering and coughing. "Idiot, just do as I say!"
Kichiruka ignored the outburst. "Wow, it's dry here? In an underwater cavern?" He marveled a moment longer, then turned to gauge Tensai's reaction. What he saw of his teacher stunned him more. "Master…?"
"What?" He frowned, then considered what Kichiruka must be seeing. "Oh…" Tensai ran a hand over the several short, black sails that now covered his head. Just because he took this shape every time he came here, he'd forgotten that his student had only seen this form once before when he'd first introduced himself to Rin.
With human proportions, Tensai's eyes were much smaller and their backgrounds were no longer bright yellow but a mortal white. His nose was still long for someone trying to pass as human, but nonetheless nearly a foot shorter than its usual length.
Unable to suppress his impulse any longer, Kichiruka reached out to his teacher's trademark feature. "Can I touch?"
With an annoyed grunt, Tensai snapped his head forward and jabbed at the questing palm. His nose still had its point. "Quit acting a fool," he chastened. "Now, get us up there to the top." He pointed to the cliff.
Complying, Kichiruka looped an arm around Tensai's waist, then with a wave of the conch staff, commanded a column of water to boost them upward. But Kichiruka overestimated the distance and they shot up much too fast, rocketing straight for the cave's ceiling.
Tensai swore, springing out of Kichiruka's grasp just in time. He landed smoothly enough. While his student slammed into the stalactite-coated ceiling, Tensai casually took a moment to dry and adjust his clothes. This more human form was smaller and the square knot of his hakama usually required tightening. When he heard Kichiruka finally staggering to his feet he made to go.
"You used a spell for breathing," Kichiruka observed, still rubbing his head. "I never have to."
"That should be obvious," Tensai harrumphed, running a finger along the still visible gills on his neck. "I'm a fish. The creature your species is based upon needs air much in the way humans and other second-rate terrestrial yokai do."
Kichiruka took offense to the "second-rate" line, but followed Tensai down the stony path that led to the cavern's end. The road concluded at an expansive atrium. In the center glowed a natural basin – florescent greens, blues, and periwinkle played in its depths bright enough to light up the entire area. It was like an animated version of the stained glass that gilt Lord Ichikawa's quarters. Turning round in place, Kichiruka tried to take in all he saw around him. Granite shelves were carved into the walls and hundreds of vials lined them row after row.
Kichiruka's attention was hauled from the sight at the sound of a heavy crate clunking on the floor and the rattle of loaded saké gourds.
"Would you believe I would've had a clear century's run of sobriety up until now?" Tensai laughed bitterly, tearing off the crate's lid. Tapping carefully on a couple of gourds, he finally selected one, then swilled quickly. Presently, he turned to the vials. Waving a gnarled hand over one set, Tensai seemed to select a capsule at random, with a lot less reverence than he'd chosen his alcohol.
"Kichiruka, do you know what this is?" Between thumb and forefinger, Tensai delicately held a small, glass vial.
The dolphin yokai canted his head. "A demonstration vial?"
"Wrong." He turned it over in his palm and the few drops of the liquid, crimson content inside it raced around the interior. "You've seen it used for demonstrations, but that's not what it is." Tensai pulled a second vial from his robe, this one filled with a silver concoction, and carefully poured two drops into the natural cauldron. Smoke curled, then formed a large bubble. An image formed within – a pair of hands working through a series of kata, folding fingers twice, then clapping once.
"Hey, that's the demonstration for 'drying,'" Kichiruka recognized, the motions long familiar.
Tensai nodded as he replaced the silver capsule back on the shelf. "But do you think these scenes come out of nowhere?"
"Everything comes from something," Kichiruka recited smoothly.
"Indeed." The swordfish sighed. "What you're watching is a memory."
Blue eyes bulged at the concept. "You can save a memory?"
"With enough magic and sufficient skill, yes." Tensai considered the red vial he still held. "Bits and pieces only. Fragments that are mostly subjective because…well, it's memory."
"Do all memories have different colors?"
Tensai looked up from the vial. "Hm? Colors…? Eh, no. They're colorless. I just codified mine."
Kichiruka walked up the basin, studying the mists and colors inside. The liquid from the vial was nowhere to be found. "You don't lose the memory when you do that, do you?"
Tensai laughed. "Don't be foolish. Memory starts here." He rapped a knuckle against Kichiruka's forehead. "And you can always…you can usually make a replica." Gently, he swirled the first vial, eyes tracking the last of the red liquid inside. There wouldn't be enough to save after this exhibition.
"Well. Come. You asked for what I know of humans, then pay attention."
Kichiruka stepped closer and watched his teacher carelessly throw the vial into the basin. There was a loud crackle, like lightning, then crimson clouds whipped into a sphere before the storm started to clear.
For the past two hundred years in Ichikawa's service, Tensai had kept to himself. He had the ruling lord's trust and that was good enough for most to give him space. And, up until the most recent twenty years, Tensai believed he had needed little else.
And yet here I am, he thought as he flung the last drops of a precious memory into the cauldron and conjured its image in a large, clear sphere, with someone whose relation to him was scarcely a tenth as long as that with Ichikawa.
Kichiruka smiled and watched attentively to see what would happen next. This was obviously very special.
A slender young man came into focus. Black hair spiked and stood on end as if they could have been rows of carefully colored fins instead. His lean jaw swept up to high cheekbones and eyes that were intense…and yellow.
"That's you?" Kichiruka laughed. "Wow! The years have not been kind to—"
A well-aimed gourd smacked the dolphin upside the head.
"I got much practice with mortal guises," Tensai said, speaking to more or less to Kichiruka and drinking in between. "My own instructor was a hermit crab who staked his habitat near humans. For those of us in the ocean, humans aren't necessarily a point of contempt since their crafts are little more than twigs in our element." Tensai watched the images shift and a young woman trotted on planked dock. "I hadn't learned to hate humans until I left the sea."
"Oh!" Kichiruka exclaimed. "Hey, she's pretty."
No, idiot. She was beautiful. "Did you expect less?" Tensai snorted and continued. "She was a merchant's daughter, so they had a decent living situation and her father came often to the docks for his stock and barter. Once, she accompanied him. Well, as it happened, some idiot forgot to mend the planking of the dock. It was in sorry disrepair and the humans, slovenly creatures that they are, never replaced it."
"Ah! So you caught her!" Kichiruka laughed. "With Rin and me it was the other way around."
"Huh." Tensai didn't tear his eyes away from the sphere. He watched himself, so many, many years ago, indecorously plunk the young woman back on the dock, the hem of her kimono still wet with ocean spray. His fingers curled as if to remember the sensation. He fought down the urge to yell at the demon, rendered deaf in the mists of time, for his stupid, clumsy handling. He took a drink instead.
"Thank you, ah, kind yokai," the girl said.
"I am called Tensai," the demon in the bubble blustered.
"Geez, master," Kichiruka said. "You were rude even back then."
"Do you want to see this or not?" Tensai snapped.
Kichiruka shut up and kept watching. The image rippled and he got a sense of time lapse from the scene. The young Tensai was back at the dock, except it didn't seem nearly as happenstance as before. He sort of slipped from one side to another as if he was looking for the same girl who wandered the planks with an equally anxious air.
Kichiruka smirked at the familiar play. He suddenly ached to be at Rin's side again.
"I knew exactly for whom she was looking," Tensai continued his narration. "And I don't know by what perversity I returned."
"Your nose is so cute!" the lady squealed when she ran into the swordfish again and with another flicker of the sphere only her smiling face filled the scene.
"Maybe the perversity wasn't in you, master…"
Tensai shot Kichiruka a look.
Clamping his mouth shut, Kichiruka tilted his head and watched. He noticed that while the two figures spoke, their conversation came in only snatches – a phrase here, a joke there, and something like a jibe from Tensai's former self. I guess it's what he remembers.
"I hoped she would fall in love with a human gentleman – there's an oxymoron for you – but she was faithful. You would be hard pressed to find a woman truer. And I burned with jealously every time I saw a mortal man accost her too closely." Tensai's chuckle came out like broken glass. "Gods, I was a selfish brute."
Kichiruka turned to his instructor, but he just stared fixedly ahead, lost in the memory before them. How often does he come here? Sapphire eyes fell on the saké crate. Every one hundred years? He studied the image of his younger teacher and tried clocking an age. "You look a bit older than me."
Tensai nodded. "I was already in my third century." Tensai tilted his head and worked the abacus in his mind. "Eh…about twenty-eight by a human's count. Why do you ask?"
Kichiruka looked back at the girl. "Well, she is kinda…young-ish…"
"Do you how many of Rin's lifetimes we could fit into your present age?" he countered. "And what are you getting at?" Tensai popped an eye in Kichiruka's direction. "Plenty of girls wedded at ages younger. She was near twenty herself. I was lucky she hadn't yet married."
Blue eyes blinked. "How come?"
"Her mother was an invalid and, with only an intermediate caretaker, needed her daughter's attendance frequently." Tensai smiled a little. "And she liked me."
"You met her parents?" Blue eyes widened, clearly impressed.
"Just her mother." Tensai twiddled his thumbs and added softly, "It helped that the lady was blind."
"But what about yoki?"
"I was a graduate student by then, Kichiruka," Tensai harrumphed indignantly. "It's required one can control that much." Tensai chuckled. For a split second the yellow in his irises bled into the clear of his eyes. He cleared his throat and straightened. The alcohol was taking its effect.
Abruptly, he pulled another vial from the shelf and spared a couple of drops from its thinning supply before finally just tossing the whole thing in. For a short spell, Kichiruka watched a series of memories play out before him, vaguely aware of Tensai adding either a vial's drop or the whole thing after each memory finished. The woman smiled brightly and her eyes were soft, brown, and painfully familiar to Kichiruka. Nearly every scene was a happy one, or at least radiated it, but Tensai's student started to pay attention as instructed. And he noticed the changes from one memory to the next. They weren't around the first dock anymore; the environment varied, becoming a little less friendly with one memory to the next. In the final impression, the pair stood in the midst of a downpour, sharing a shabby lean-to – and woman still shone with her sweet, brave smile.
The sphere curled in on itself in a single wisp of mist.
"That was the last of the good ones." Tensai heaved a gusty sigh and reached for a saké gourd.
"What happened?" Kichiruka asked, searching his teacher's face.
"She sickened and died." Tensai spoke the words coldly and quickly. "It wasn't sudden. I saw her ailing and no tonic of our knowledge could help." Then, softly, he added, "From a human's perspective, we had a good run. Sixteen years…and were able to take stock of a few cherished moments just before."
"Is that why those images" – Kichiruka gestured to the basin – "weren't subjective? They weren't just your memories, were they, Master Tensai?"
The swordfish smirked. "My, my, I can see why Ichikawa placed you under my tutelage." He barked a sharp laugh and conceded, "Yes, once I had learned how to keep tangible memories I asked if she would help me save a few. The happier ones kept us strong when all around us was turbulence…"
Kichiruka processed the information. "So then that first vial you threw in – that's the last time you can replay that memory in whole for yourself." His voice hitched at the disheartening realization.
"Tch!" Tensai waved his hand. "At this point I have memories of that memory."
"Then why do you sound like you missed a chance at closure?"
Normally, Tensai would've been outraged at the presumption. But either the saké or the genuine concern he hadn't heard in so long made him tip his head and sip. "We never did have any children."
"Why?"
"Kichiruka, have you ever heard of hanyo dying of natural causes?"
Tensai's student fell silent.
"It is a cruel and terrible world where yokai and human unions are concerned. Huh. Stories tell of lovers running away, but they never really describe how the couple survives, where they find shelter, or anything practical. And for hanyo…ostracization, madness brought on by yokai blood in a halfling body… I was terrified even if she didn't wholly understand it all herself. I…wouldn't allow her any such pains. I figured that at least if we had no offspring we might yet shelter a chance to escape the scrutiny of others." Tensai snorted. "A fool's strategy because in that plan I only caused he more suffering."
Kichiruka tipped his head. "I don't see how there could possibly be any harm in—"
"I denied her the right to be a woman." Clipped and sharp, Tensai nearly choked on his own words. He swallowed, then continued steadily, "It was an elixir; like most potent mixtures it had a terrible taste and was difficult to keep down. But it flushes your system and kills the effectiveness of the next round of, ah, emissions.
"And every night I lay with her felt like a deception. I never told her exactly, but what a cruel and selfish thing it is to lead a woman to believe she's barren. I wanted to protect her, possess her, pleasure her – and I failed her all three. She cried that she could never bear me a child and I never told her the truth. Couldn't confess to a crying woman!
"'It's because I love her,' I told myself. Pah! I couldn't have possibly! That's how I know I don't have a soul. Anyone who did would never have inflicted such suffering upon his spouse. Who was I sparing? Only myself, really."
Kichiruka inched closer. "Master, you can't blame yourself for wanting to protect—"
"Her last words were an apology!" Tensai's fist slammed into the stony side of the basin. "I wanted to take it all away for her. Give her everything she asked. But there comes a time when not even the sum of magic in all the worlds can work your will. When you're powerless. When you feel so…common." Tensai spat the word as if it were the most profane in his vocabulary. "We're not daiyokai, we're mediocre demons. Better than slathering oni or simple, single-shape yokai and, if you want to say it, socially more acceptable than hanyo. But we're not gods, Kichiruka."
The younger demon backed up a bit, the flaring aura of his teacher nearly at scalding proportions. "I…I think I understand." My life with Rin wouldn't have a chance in Hell.
With a heavy nod, Tensai slouched to his side, dully watching the play of color over the basin.
Kichiruka cleared his throat, testing the sound over silence. "So…do you think I should just avoid the subject with Ichikawa?"
"Why?" Tensai chuckled. "He seems to be your best advocate."
"Yeah, but…" Kichiruka swallowed dryly. The words were difficult enough to mouth. "I'm not going back."
Tensai blinked. Then shot straight up. "Wait, did I just expose my underbelly for naught?" Tensai hooked his fingers through the clam patterned shirt and hauled the young demon to his feet. Kichiruka's pulse shot up into his mouth – it was a startling reminder that in spite of his frail, human guise, Tensai's strength was very much a demon's. And Tensai dragged Kichiruka close enough that the swordfish's nose pointed at his throat. "You. Left. Her?"
"Well…no, I mean, it wasn't her, it's m—"
"Don't you dare complete that hackneyed excuse!" Tensai gave Kichiruka a shake. "Why in the seven hells would you let her go? Do you know what sort of opportunity you have?
"I don't care if it makes Ichikawa –"
"Who's talking about that lout? I mean your opportunity with Rin! Damn, you truly are deserving of the title of Fool." Tensai pinched the bridge of his nose; frustration and alcohol was a stale mix.
"Well…There's Lord Sesshomaru…he'll kill me. And after your story…if it's going to cause Rin that much agony…"
"Boy, I'll have you quartered and drawn first if you don't go back to that girl! My point is that there's no reason for you to wind up as I. Women like that don't show up out of nowhere. Not even in a hundred, nay, three hundred years! One daiyokai should not make or mar you. Go to her NOW!"
It wasn't until after he saw Kichiruka scramble over the next ledge that Tensai re-approached the basin. Propping elbows on knobby knees, his chin rested in upturned palms. He downed another gourd. Then another. He stared dumbly at the shattered glass of his memories, half fancying he could refill them now. "I'm so sorry…"
"Master?"
Tensai's head lolled over his shoulder and he had to squint to make Kichiruka stand still. "Now what?"
"I don't know the way back out," Kichiruka said with a sheepish grin.
"Well…you're going to have to wait…" the swordfish slurred.
Kichiruka sighed. "You're too plastered to remember?"
"Oh, and it can't be for the keepsake of our time together?" Tensai chuckled, coupled with a hiccup. He smiled faintly and his pupils were already lost in a sea of yellow. "...Did I ever tell you I've always wanted a boy?"
Kichiruka sighed and shook his head. But as he took up a seat beside his teacher, he found himself hoping it wasn't just the saké talking.
.
Thank you for reading!
A bit of levity may be found in these links separated by semicolons (please remove spaces before use):
feral-instinct .deviantart. com/#/d31vwjz; feral-instinct .deviantart. com/#/d31w94r; feral-instinct .deviantart. com/#/d31wdv6