A/N: I like Jaken…he's travel-sized.

A Crab is No Fish

Like an apparition Sesshomaru slipped through the brush without disturbing a single leaf. Jaken was another story. On his short legs, the little yokai had to take no less than three hasty shuffles to keep up with his master's easy strides. Jaken bumbled along quickly and as usual with little thought to the destination beyond where Sesshomaru walked. So it was reasonable that he didn't see the cadaver lying smack in the middle of his path.

"Eeeek!" The Staff of Skulls nearly snapped in the fierce grip of tiny claws. Staring back at near perfect eye level with Jaken was a dead man's vacant gaze, the rest of his features sun-withered. A pair of flies flitted on his broken and slack jaw. Jaken winced.

With barely contained vexation, Sesshomaru turned to see what had riled his retainer. Retracing his path, the daiyokai noted the carcass he had sidestepped a moment ago. Truly, Jaken? "There are hundreds of these every day." Sesshomaru's nose wrinkled. "Just an expired human."

"Yes, yes, of course," Jaken agreed nervously. It had simply taken him off guard. There were plenty of dead bodies to be found in their day and age. One singular corpse shouldn't have been so frightening. "Shall we go?"

The dog-demon didn't budge. Jaken had deterred them, but Sesshomaru would say when they could leave. His attention had been called and now it wouldn't be squandered.

He studied the stiff body. As someone who let destruction fall regularly from his own hand, Sesshomaru had seen death countless times at many stages. Screaming, frightened, messy, and frozen were the manifestations with which he was most familiar.

Idly, he wondered how many days could have elapsed since the man's death. Rigor had already set in Sesshomaru observed as he nudged a stiff arm with the toe of his boot. The fingers of one hand maintained their desperate, claw-like positions. But there didn't appear to be any maggots about yet or chunks of scavenged flesh missing. Maybe a day's passage at most? Not that he was planning on using the Tenseiga on this unfortunate human, but he was curious. Since he started exercising his inheritance Sesshomaru had learned that only so much time could pass before a soul was escorted to the next world. Nuisance enough Tenseiga was a one-time deal and the daiyokai hadn't wished to have any more surprises sprung on him.

Last year, when the old priestess had died, he learned that there are exceptional cases when no matter how quickly the Heaven Fang was drawn that a soul couldn't be rebound to the body. If a soul had no attachments to this world the person was as good as dead. Although Rin had been the one to cry it was Sesshomaru now who lamented the crone's passing – mostly because she could discuss all those emotional dimensions with Rin.

At Jaken's anxious squirming below him, Sesshomaru returned to the present. This corpse was mangled. Its neck bent at an impossible angle and straight limbs snapped inward in odd places. He was beaten to death.

Sesshomaru studied the patterns on the man's clothes. The fringes and cuffs of his heavy overcoat were decorated with a continuous maze of concentric squares and rectangles. His feet were dressed in bearskin – "unclean" material. The man had a beard nearly as shaggy – not a frequent trait among most humans here. The broken bits of the shattered prayer stick that scattered at his side weren't of any that Sesshomaru recognized as a common faith. He'd heard the word for the amulets once – ikupasuy.

A "barbarian of the North" – that's what they would call this specimen. What business would such a man have this far south? Ainu populations had been pushed back to the northern most regions of the island and some were even fleeing as far off as Hokkaido now.

"A crab is no fish and an Ainu no man," Sesshomaru recalled the proverb. He snorted.

Mortals – in frustration with their lot in the true order of yokai, hanyo, and humans – tried inventing their own caste systems. There really wasn't much difference from one mortal to the next. Unlike demons, all humans were created with the same qualities. It's just their own inanity that draws the lines.

He looked at the corpse once more. According to the humans of this region, a man like this wasn't welcome, not even tolerated to the point of his own death.

The daiyokai drew his Tenseiga. Once in a while, Sesshomaru liked to smite convention.

oOo

For the count of three heart-hammering seconds, the man gaped at the tall daiyokai. The glowing blade didn't even register. Then he screamed, wordless and dumb. Scrabbling backward, he fell twice before finding his footing and fleeing. He could wonder later how his wounds had disappeared or how all the bones had mended.

"Ingrate," Jaken spat.

Sesshomaru sheathed his blade. Humans.

Ironic, really. Even those who had been taught to grow alongside nature were terrified. "Let's go." Sesshomaru started walking without checking to see if Jaken would follow. There was no deterrent this time.

To Sesshomaru's private annoyance, the Ainu's reaction replayed itself in his mind. That terror etched in the man's face knew one word: Demon. Demon and human, prey and predator. The man understood the true caste. So what have I to mull over? Sesshomaru was no stranger to it; that was simply the way things were. No different than the change of seasons now – an eternal and immobile order. Much like how the trees were beginning to tinge a bright yellow around their leaves and pines were starting to shed their cones. Sesshomaru suppressed the urge to pick one up and toss it. There was no Rin to catch it.

He made a mental note. In a few days more he was due to check on his human charge.

.

A/N: This chapter owes its title to Russian proverb I found in a book, Insulting Quotations. The original dictum runs, "A crab is no fish and a Greek is no man." The prejudice is quite plain in that line and was adapted to suit the chapter. If you're at all interested in Japanese history the background of the indigenous Ainu residents is certainly a topic to study.

This chapter's short and I would've had it posted sooner were not for the lack of Net service at my home. I hope all the readers in the U.S. had happy Thanksgivings. :)

There was a mistake found in "Hooked," this page is one of three posted pages: feral-instinct. deviantart. com/#/d33qkvo (please remove spaces first)