Chapter Fourteen

Yuzuki's chambers were exactly the way she remembered them. Her large, old-fashioned bedding was still surrounded by colorful silk canopies and there was still a mirror stand for her to comb her hair. Books and scrolls alike were stacked on shelves. Silk pillows were strewn about. Her large communications screen was still on the wall, remote on her white silk sheets. No, nothing had really changed.

Ruka had followed. Of course she had.

"Why did you do that?" she asked, voice almost growling. "The Yuzuki I have alwas known would never-!"

"The Yuzuki you have always known is dead, Ruka." The yoko's eyes didn't leave the bed. "The old me died a long time ago. I have changed."

"But why would you humiliate me like that!?" It wasn't a question, really. "Even though he apparently 'outranks' me, you cannot do that so boldly! When you were with Asuma-"

Yuzuki's golden gaze flashed to her once-best friend. Ruka fell silent. She'd been the only one to know about Yuzuki's human lover. At least, before the banishment. The only person who'd kept the secret for nearly two years, and then it all had blown up in Yuzuki's face.

"What happened?" Ruka asked after a few minutes of silence. Yuzuki was still staring at the wooden floor. "I know Asuma is dead, Yuzuki. It has been over four hundred years since you left with him. Bt surely you are not still so deep in mourning him."

"I never mourned the death of Asuma." Yuzuki moved to the mirror stand, kneeling down onto the silk pillow. She began to remove the pins from her hair. "In the end, I was wrong for my choice. My lover became a madman."

"You did not ever mate him, did you?"

Yuzuki closed her eyes, silver-blue locks beginning to cascade down her back. The pins always made her hair curly. "No. Do not be ridiculous."

Ruka touched Yuzuki's shoulder, but got no reaction. "I love you, Yuzuki," she said softly. "I am very happy that you have come back to us."

Yuzuki stood, and scanned the room again. "Do me a favor, Ruka, and please bring me a few more candles. It is too dark in here."

"May I stay with you tonight, Yuzuki?"

"I wish for solitude, Ruka. Not for the pleasures you can give me."

The other female stayed silent. Yuzuki continued to change into robes that were now slightly loose on her. She knew she had hurt her friend. But what was she supposed to say to those statements? She didn't love Ruka as a friend anymore. And she wasn't happy to be here, either. She was only here to mourn her father and then she would more than likely give the position of the Ruler of Mari to her uncle or to one of her brothers. She didn't want it.

And she'd been truthful to Ruka about wanting solitude. Unless it was Kurama, she really never wanted to speak to anyone.

Kurama was awoken by Yuzuki sometime before dawn. Her robes were flowing and white, barely covering her chest and stomach. Her hair was down, framing her face perfectly and flowing down her back and shoulders. She almost reminded Kurama of a sort of angel in Christian fairytales.

See, Shuichi? Couldn't you just eat her up?

Stop your nonsense.

She had someone lead him through the Manor, as she'd said she had to meet with her brothers about something. Kurama decided to wear all white, as all the others were doing as well. He just didn't wear the same silk ones as the Mari; in more ways than one, he was an outsider.

Ruka was waiting outside of his chambers when he was finished getting ready. Her white robes didn't show much skin, but they were extremely tight. "I shall lead you through the rest of the day, Master Kurama," she said quietly, bowing her head.

"Kurama is fine, Ruka," he replied quickly, shaking his head. The sun would be rising soon. "Care to explain your funeral customs?"

"I refuse to do it."

"Sister, you must-"

"I shall compose it, as you have asked me to do. But I refuse to sing it."

Aki glared at her. "Father would want it. You must."

"Please, Yuzuki," Nobuyuki pleaded. "We know it has been a long while, but you can do this."

"I do not wish to. You may sing it, or have Ruka do so. She can sing almost as well as I once could."

"But that is not traditional, Yuzuki. Please. Do this for our father."

She briefly shook her head. "I will begin the composition in the hall of Instrumentation after the pyre is lit."

Aki, giving up on the argument, grunted and threw his hands up as he walked out of the study.

Nobuyuki's wise eyes rested on his younger sister. She had dark circles under her eyes, from not resting properly. Her hair fell down her back in waves. Her head was pounding and she almost felt ill.

"Why do you not wish to sing, dear sister?" he asked.

Yuzuki avoided eye contact, gaze to the various scrolls and books on her father's desk. "I have not sung since Asuma's death. I will not do so ever again."

"And why is that?"

Her gaze caught his then. Nobuyuki never thought he would see the day his sister's eyes would be so cold.

"Would you really like to know, dear brother?"

"I would." He tried to keep his laid-back posture, but it was difficult. "You know I can keep secrets."

Her hard stare made him feel uneasy.

"The last time I sang was the first time I broke the laws of Mari."

His eyes widened. "What?"

Something flashed in her eyes that he didn't recognize. "Out of sheer madness, Nobuyuki, I murdered many demons and humans alike."

"Madness?" he asked.

"Yes, brother. Insanity, madness. My mind had been broken from the events in that place. Upon seeing Asuma finally dead, I was not sure if I was overjoyed or… if I really felt anything at all. I just knew I had one thing to do. And it was sing it out."

He wasn't sure what to say at first. Nobuyuki and Yuzuki had once been close, a very long time ago. Now he didn't even know how to comfort her in her time of pain. Instead he came closer, placing a hand on her petite shoulder.

"Compose the song from your heart, Yuzuki, and see if you wish for someone else to sing it."

No yoko spoke. Kurama could only hear hushed breaths all around him. Not even the young children uttered a word. Other demons and even two or three humans were present, wearing all white or at least something white on them. Everyone's head was lowered. No music was playing. Kurama couldn't help but wonder if the demons were saying a prayer.

Where the large orchestra had been the night before, Yuzuki and her brothers now stood. Their eyes were fixed on the audience around them, and they stood in a circle. Behind them there was a large and tall funeral pyre made from a wood the fox wasn't familiar with. The only problem was that there was not a body at the top. If the emperor of the Mari was dead… where was his body?

Another man made his way through the crowd, a solemn look on his face. His hair was the same orange of Aki's, and he was slightly pale. His locks barely showed a few strands of regular silver, and his fox ears were larger than most of the yoko present. Instead of white, his robes (that reminded Kurama of a toga, as most of the men's did) were so grey that they were almost black. His eyes were dark gold, almost hazel. With him he had a lit torch.

When he made it to the circle, he spoke. His voice was deep and slightly raspy.

"Today, people of the Mari clan, is a sad day." Kurama saw Yuzuki close her eyes. "Today we mourn our late emperor of the last two thousand and ninety three years. This demon was not only my ruler, but he was my brother and my friend."

Brother? Yuzuki had an uncle? Or did he just mean in the Mari clan?

"My brother looked to me for advice," the yoko continued. "He looked to me for comfort when he became ill all those years ago, and before that when his lovely mate passed into the Final Gardens."

The apparition scanned the crowd. Everyone was still silent with their eyes closed. He spoke up once more: "Our ruler is now a part of the Final Gardens as well, alongside his beautiful mate we all remember so well. His personal belongings will join him today, and I hope that many blessings are given to his spirit. Tonight his descendants will perform the traditional rituals of song and dance as a final message to their father. Until that time, we shall let the pyre burn, and make our way to the Garden he sacrificed his body to create."

The male then simply tossed the torch to the pyre, which immediately began to smoke. The sun slowly peeked over the horizon beyond the woodline. Kurama thought the wood almost smelled perfumed. Slowly but surely, the other demons, adult and child alike, made their way around the three royal siblings to say a prayer and throw a bit of sage into the flames, before making their way to the large manor he'd stayed all night in. All were mumbling prayers and blessings.

A sage plant was slid into the redhead's hand. Ruka was looking at him seriously. "Come, Yoko Kurama," she said. "Eventually, it will be our turn to do what they are doing."

He suddenly understood why the Mari funeral processions took all day. There were at least thirteen thousand present and only one at a time went into the circle. Or maybe it was because they wanted to properly honor their dead. To Kurama, though, they seemed to be going a bit overboard.

He took a brief look among the solemn faces, and back to the circle. He closed his eyes, sighing.

Just like that, Yuzuki had disappeared.

She worked vigorously, writing notes and lyrics and playing various instruments. She hadn't written in her native hand for a very long time. Her usually neat and feminine handwriting was sloppy like Nobuyuki's. She almost laughed at the thought of her older brother's barely legible hand.

She was just frustrated that she had to do this. It wasn't her place anymore. To think that these people just welcomed her back with open arms, like she hadn't been banished to begin with. Sometimes the open-mindedness of the Mari made them look like fools.

The only reason Yuzuki knew that, though, is because she'd seen the outside world. No one could be trusted completely.

"What's up?" she heard a familiar voice ask. It made her ears perk and twitch. Yoko Kurama.

She turned towards the now open doorway of the room to find Kurama and Ruka standing there. He was wearing all white clothing. She thought it was nice of him to try and keep her traditions, even though he wasn't required to do so.

"Leave us, Ruka," she said, and then eyed the girl until she left the room. Kurama gave her a look of pity as they heard her walk down the hallway.

"She seems to be upset," the yoko commented, turning to Yuzuki.

"I care not," she answered. "It seems she lost her manners over the years."

"People change," he said.

"Yes, I know this well."

He watched her work in silence for a few moments. He was no musician, but Kurama was quite fascinated with this room. Some of these instruments were unlike anything he'd ever seen before. And she would play a few notes like they were nothing.

"Did you see my father's garden?" she asked after awhile. She began humming to herself, and it made Kurama's ears tingle.

"No, I came to find you," he replied. "It's my responsibility to keep you safe, you know."

He didn't see it, but Yuzuki smirked. "I am glad that you take your job seriously, Kurama, but there is nothing here for you to worry about."

"You never know, Yuzuki." He looked at the strange handwriting on the desk. Scrolls were spread out everywhere. "Shouldn't you be attending the funeral services?"

"I am not ready to go there," she said. "Besides, I must compose this for my brothers, so that they may perform tonight."

"Are you not performing?"

"I see no reason to."

"But you should."

"It does not matter, Kurama."

"Are you really not in mourning?"

"I am; I promised myself I would never sing again."

"But this is for your father." The redhead sighed. "A legendary artist does not stop painting because of a trauma."

When she looked back and met his gaze, her usually cold eyes looked soft and vulnerable, and glazed with tears. Her lips were only barely parted. Yuzuki was so beautiful.

You want her, said his other half. Take her.

I won't.

Face facts, you like ow she looks like a young child.

I wish you were dead sometimes.

But then you would also be dead.

"I never asked for my voice," she said, interrupting his thoughts. "I do not wish to sing."

"Life isn't about what you want, Yuzuki; it's about what you need to do." He moved closer and touched her silky hair. Her scent seemed stronger than usual. "I think you'd feel better if you sang."

"Why?" She looked back down to her notes.

"Do you forgive him?"

"Perhaps. I try not to think of that."

"At least do that. And tell him goodbye with your heart. Not with your thoughts of what he did to you."

Yuzuki stared at Kurama for a moment, mulling his words over. Her brother Nobuyuki had said the same thing. They were both right. She hated what her father had done to her, but he'd done it for a reason. Yuzuki didn't hate the man. She honestly wished she could have seen him once more before he passed. But her father had indeed been prideful. He wouldn't have admitted how wrong he was, anyway.

Sighing, she turned back to the desk. She picked up her notes and put them into the flames of the nearby candle.

"What are you doing?" Kurama sounded shocked.

She smiled sadly at him. "My brother told me something similar earlier. The both of you are right." Yuzuki began to move to the other side of the room, gathering more parchment. "Go explore the Hall of Instrumentation. There are many things here you may enjoy. I need to start over."

Kurama smirked back at her. It only took two people to convince her.

Good thing we are two people, ne?

Oh, please, stop.