A/N: Alright! Finally, back with the exciting chapter! As always, big thanks to everyone who has taken the time out of their days to glance at this fic, reviewers and silent readers alike! I'm thankful for each and every one of you.
Also, a note on time in ancient Japan: their hours were basically two-hour blocks that get somewhat shorter or longer depending on the season. Since it is the summer in this fic, the hour of the monkey would be 5-6:59pm; rooster is 7-8:59pm; and dog is roughly 9-10:30.
Hope you all enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Inuyasha franchise!
SONG OF THE WEST
an Inuyasha fanfic
xxi.
Sesshōmaru stared vacantly out the open doorway leading to the black and red wooden balcony connected to his room. The summer sky had gone from blue to pink in the humid atmosphere and was preparing to burning the vast expanse urban wooden buildings golden orange in its final stage. Away in that garish Shitennō castle on Mount Shigeyama, Lord Tokudaiji was perhaps preparing to eat supper with Imperial Lord Katsushika. Meanwhile, he was preparing to attend a festival largely frequented by commoners with a former girl of pleasure his father had plucked from the street a little over a month and a half ago. If someone had told him when he set out on this journey that he would go from managing the entirety of the West in his father's absence to whatever this was, he would've had them flogged and turned out the castle.
He and Rin had gone their separate ways upon securing their rooms. By the time Sesshōmaru finished his bath and had gotten dressed again, the city bells had rung six times to herald the hour of the rooster. It would be dark soon. Rin—who had unknowingly requested the more expensive option of visiting the onsen his father had recommended instead of having a bath drawn for her in her room—had been gone since the middle of the hour of the monkey.
He did not mind the delay. As far as he was concerned, the less time he had to spend amongst drunken commoners and other festival revelry, the better. Thus far, there had been no further signs of Ryūkotsusei's men. If Rin had been alone, if she had actually obeyed Lord Tokudaiji's words, she might have started returning to the hotel by now.
There was a soft rap against the plain shoji on the other side of the room that faced the building's interior, immediately followed by that all-too-familiar high-pitched voice:
"Lord Sesshōmaru! I'm ready now!"
With an incredibly unenthused look on his face, Sesshōmaru crossed the room and slid open the shoji. Standing before him was Rin, donning the golden kosode and kiribakama ensemble he'd given to her in the village, her newly round cheeks still slightly red from the heat of the onsen and an excited, puckish glint in her dark brown eyes. With her low geta, she came up just below his shoulders, forcing him to tilt his head down to look at her. Her long, neatly re-braided dark hair shone softly, not from any lingering dampness, but something thicker and more fragrant, with notes of sweetness and slight spice. Sesshōmaru sniffed the air curiously.
"Oh!" Rin said. "A bath attendant gave me some scented oil. I think she said it was—"
"Ginger lily," Sesshōmaru finished for her.
Rin blinked, surprised. "How did you guess?"
Sesshōmaru, in his mysterious way, did not reply. With one swift movement, he shut the door to his room and started walking ahead of Rin down the inn's long corridor, making sure to slow his strides slightly to accommodate her healing ankle. "Come. I don't wish to be out all night."
The quick pitter-patter of her wooden geta followed closely behind him.
The city streets were busier than they were earlier that day. Like rhythmic swarms of honeybees, crowds of people of all social castes move in groups down one street and up the other, only broken up occasionally by an obnoxious caravan of servants carrying a nobleman's norimono or a merchant's kago. A cacophony of noises—various regional accents and pitches, horse whinnies, strings and wind instruments—rose and fell steadily in the hot summer air.
To Sesshōmaru, the thick whirl of activity was vile, especially in a city as large as Hyōkusui. Even in Inugawa he had rarely stepped foot on the streets during summer festivals, just barely preferring to sit amongst the Western noblemen at the activities hosted in the castle by his parents. Rin, however, effortlessly absorbed the city's energy, her eyes searching frantically for the first street refreshment to taste or the first activity with which to entertain herself. It had been a lifetime since she'd been able to view a festival at such close proximity, and she had never before had the means to actually participate.
Sesshōmaru watched as Rin moved forward into the street without him, undaunted by the ebb and flow of the crowd. With a displeased grunt, he followed after her. He next saw her across the dirt road, standing before a merchant's stall covered in an array of sweet-smelling food. When she turned to him, she had a stick in each hand bearing a red apple coated with honey, and a big bright grin on her face.
"Don't run off like that," Sesshōmaru complained gently.
She took a bite out of the apple instead of responding to him. It crunched satisfyingly between her teeth and the honey left a sticky gloss on her lips.
"Here's one for you, too," Rin said pleasantly, holding out the treat in her other hand for him to take.
Sesshōmaru's golden eyes remained fixed on her mouth. The honey made her lips glisten in a manner he found slightly distracting.
"I don't eat overly sweet foods," he rebuffed. He reached into his billowing white sleeve to fetch his handkerchief. "You have food on your mouth."
With a sigh, Rin set the honeyed apple back on the display and accepted the white cloth square. Her eyes widened slightly.
"I didn't know you still had this," the young woman said, surprised. It was the same handkerchief he had given her for her hand so long ago at Asano castle.
Sesshōmaru's brow quirked. "It's mine. Why wouldn't I?"
"You didn't seem like you wanted it back after I cleaned it," Rin recounted quietly, "so I figured you had just thrown it away."
"…Hm." Sesshōmaru hadn't thought much of it after recovering it while she was sleeping in the village. But it was a perfectly good handkerchief; it would've been a waste to simply throw it away, especially since she had managed to remove the stain.
Rin took another bit of her apple. He was hard to read, as always. Despite what had happened in the woods that day, Sesshōmaru still seemed so…cold and distant in comparison to Lord Tōga and Master Seiten. The handkerchief, at least, seemed to point towards his growing tolerance of her. She knew he didn't want her dead as he initially did, but it still seemed a far cry away from true friendship. There had to be some way to get him to open up a little.
Sesshōmaru paid for Rin's snack and started walking again, with the young woman munching away close behind him.
"What foods do you like, Lord Sesshōmaru?" Rin asked.
"I'm not hungry."
"What do you like in general?"
"What is the purpose of you knowing this?"
"I'm just wondering," Rin said. "We're here together; let's speak more!"
Sesshōmaru rolled his eyes and maintained his stride.
Rin continued on, unperturbed. "I'm not sure what I like yet. I know I'm tired of kayu, though."
The young Lord didn't respond immediately, but the young woman did not mind. In fact, as soon as the words left her honeyed lips, Rin found herself mesmerized by another festival sight. Sesshōmaru heard her footsteps stops and glanced back at her. She stood awed by a merchant's stall, much fancier than the others with its elaborate ribbons and frill, displaying rows upon rows of small humanoid figures dressed in layers of fabric.
The merchant behind the counter was a short, thin man with a face flushed from slight intoxication. He perked up upon seeing Rin.
"Good evening, madam!" He spoke. "I see the dolls have gotten your attention. Is there one in particular you'd like me to fetch? The two on the top are the emperor and late empress, of course; then there's the Imperial Lords…"
Rin focused on the dolls as he pointed each of them out. Both dolls meant to represent the royal family were elaborately styled and engulfed in red and gold fabric. The next three figurines were also ornately decorated, but in courtiers' uniforms in lieu of the formal ceremonial gowns of the royal family. Northern Imperial Lord Katsushika's doll was plumper than the others, with sandy brown hair and earth-toned silks. In the middle was an unrecognizable figure, with purple and blue fabrics, and pallid, painted skin—an educated guess made her assume it was none other than Imperial Lord Ryūkotsusei. And, lastly, was a figure wrapped in whites and blues with long white hair…
Rin giggled and glanced at Sesshōmaru. "Look! It's Lord Tōga. "
The merchant blinked, confused. "That's the Western Imperial Lord Takeshige Tokudaiji, not some Tōga."
It was Rin's turn to be puzzled. "Takeshige?"
"There's are for children," Sesshōmaru said unimpressed.
"Many noblewomen collect them as well," the merchant assured the young woman. "After all, it's never too early to begin assembling a wedding trousseau for future daughters or granddaughters."
"Wedding trousseau?" Rin repeated, amused. Unbeknownst to the merchant, her sordid past rendered her unfit to marry—and she certainly wouldn't be planning anyone else's marriage any time soon.
"I doubt either of you are considering that now, as youthful as you still are," the slightly inebriated man raised his cup and, bowing to them both, began to toast. "Nevertheless, may your conjugal bond be fruitful, my Lord and Lady!"
Rin's eyes widened. "I—"
"Conjugal bond?" Sesshōmaru echoed testily beside her, bristling with each syllable.
It was then that the man realized he had said something wrong. "Perhaps I was too hasty?"
It was an honest mistake. After all, men and women often didn't attend festivals unaccompanied unless they were siblings or married. She and Sesshōmaru looked nothing alike, so…
A few beats of awkward silence went by before Rin tugged awkwardly on Sesshōmaru's sleeve. He glanced down at her, still slightly irate.
"Let's go look at more stuff," Rin suggested.
With another huff in the merchant's direction, Sesshōmaru turned on his heel, Rin in tow.
A question nagged at the back of Rin's mind and forced its way from her mouth. "Lord Sesshōmaru," she began, "why did that merchant called Lord Tōga 'Takeshige'?"
"That is his name," Sesshōmaru responded as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.
Rin stared at Sesshōmaru's powerful back as he walked in front of her. "His name isn't Tōga?"
"Tōga is his true name. Takeshige is the name he was given."
"…was he not given his true name?"
"That's his story to tell, not mine."
That cryptic answer still didn't help her understand much. Rin sighed. Once, a while ago, Lord Tōga had explained that he had been born on the mainland, in a city called Chengguan. One would think the heir of the West we be born in Inugawa, not a foreign land. Perhaps that had something to do with Lord Tōga's two names?
From the way she had fallen silent behind him, Sesshōmaru knew that Rin was mulling over the subject in her mind. He was surprised that his father hadn't revealed more about his past to her during one of their many road trip conversations—that he had been born to a bastard to a common woman on the mainland, who named him Tōga, only to later be formally adopted by his grandfather and the former Imperial Lord of the West and re-named Takeshige. It certainly wasn't Sesshōmaru's truth to tell, so until his father told Rin himself, the girl would simply have to be left in the dark.
Sesshōmaru scanned his surroundings. People continued to flow around them, tending to their own needs and wants. Still no signs of danger. He was beginning to suspect that the man they saw earlier was simply a stray.
Out of the corner of his vision, he could see a man selling uchikatsugi. Rin wasn't nearly high-born enough to wear one according to social standards, but if it could possibly prevent awkward situations such as the one with the doll merchant, then so be it.
It only took a few short seconds for Sesshōmaru to purchase one and return to where Rin had been enraptured by yet another nondescript festival stall. She could only stare at the cumbersome object when it was presented to her.
"I don't actually have to wear this, do I?"
"You do," Sesshōmaru said, plopping the straw hat on her head. The gossamer-like white veil effortlessly engulfed her form, making her resemble one of the elaborate dolls they had seen earlier. When she pushed the fabric aside to look up at him again, Sesshōmaru saw she was pouting.
"I can barely see anything," she said. "What if I run into people?"
Sesshōmaru scoffed. "As long as you can distinguish me, you'll be fine."
The young Lord started walking again. With an affected sigh, Rin took another bite out of her half-finished apple before latching on to Sesshōmaru's sleeve with her free hand.
The supper Katsushika had ordered prepared for his noble guests was delicious. That was something Lord Tōga could not deny. Everything that flew in the sky, trotted along the ground, or swam in the sea seemed to be sitting sliced up on the endless platters that servants brought out: sushi and sashimi—dead and alive—made with a variety of fish; crab's legs and shrimp and scallops; deer and horse and duck and beef; boiled pig's ears and trotters. Then, of course, there were the non-meat items, liked vegetables both pickled and steamed, fruits like lychee and loquat and newly ripe cherries, and rice and noodles. Tea, sake, and shōchū flowed readily. For all his faults, Katsushika did enjoy the pleasantries of life, something his hosting skills readily reflected.
The conversation was less enjoyable. As the highest-ranking guest, Tōga was afforded the so-called honor of sitting with Katsushika and his innermost circle during the meal. The men all sat agura before their own low but spacious wooden tables arranged according to rank. Despite his great care in selected the menu, in an unsurprisingly inhospitable manner Katsushika made sure his group was segregated from the less favored noblemen by way of the half-closed fusuma decorated with an elaborate mural of the four great mountains surrounding the city and the raised dais that showed the group's importance. A guard was placed right outside the fusuma to ensure that no lesser nobleman wandered into this private room without warning. Though only a handful of people had been allowed into the inner chamber, it still managed to be as spacious as the room that held the other nobleman. His audience hall was rather typical, with beige tatami flooring and an ornately patterned suspended ceiling. Art from around the country and the mainland—some more suitable than others—hung in tactically placed tokonoma around the room.
Thus Tōga, effectively separated from the less noble and thus, more sensible men of the Northern territories, had his ears clobbered by discussions of marriage rumors, prized horses, and the next time a polo match could be planned. Eventually someone brought up the polo skills of Shuran, who was notably absent from the meal, as well as the Crown Prince; and somehow, they ended up discussing Capitol politics again.
"I heard His Excellency's illness is not improving," a nondescript man by the clan name Kotake claimed. "Thankfully, it's not growing worse either. Fate only know what a sorry state we'll be in once Crown Prince takes the throne!"
Katsushika hummed, amused. "Woe to our generation. It seems as if there are suddenly not enough sons to go around."
Tōga took a sip of his tea and avoided correcting the old man by insisting that he, in fact, was not a member of his generation. It wasn't every day that he was able to hear the opinions of the upper Northern lords straight from their own mouths.
"What a shame," another slightly intoxicated man, Lord Sugimoto, stated. "Our Emperor is so sage, but his son! He spoke to the leaders of the Northern tribesmen a year ago, and they almost broke the treaty. What's more, he remains unmarried in search of the most beautiful bride instead of apt association. It's almost as if they aren't blood at all."
This was true. Crown Prince had already managed to annoy many courtiers and noblemen throughout the East, North, and West with his roguish behavior and unserious attitude. Even Katsushika himself had notably developed a disdain for the young man after both Tōran and Shunran were rejected as potential brides.
Another man spoke up. "The Emperor delayed his marriage until age 30. The Crown Prince is still young."
"With his reputation for visiting pleasure houses every other night, what family's daughter would want him? A scoundrel, through and through."
"As you said, the Emperor is sage,'" Katsushika said, mocking the man slightly. "He must see some potential in that son of his. After all, there are other men to whom he could have given the Crown Prince title, but he did not."
The other men fell silent, confused by Katsushika's words. Tōga bristled slightly.
"I fear this conversation is not apt," Tōga said deeply.
"Take your ease!" Katsushika exclaimed, taking a sip from one of the many cups of liquor on the low wooden table before him. "This is an informal festival dinner, not a court affair. Plus, people of far lower rank are discussing it in far less secure places. Why shouldn't we? I just hope you won't show bias for your own son."
Tōga scoffed. "I don't need to. I am fully aware of my son's aptitudes and deficiencies. It's only that words are often considered tantamount to actions of treason."
The other men stiffened at the word. There was certainly precedent: noblemen had been executed for mere words overheard by spies in the past under previous Emperors; some had even faced clan annihilation, depending on the severity. The Emperor was sage, yes. But he was also rather strict.
"Here you are, saying these grand words again." Katsushika, slightly drunk and undaunted, rolled his eyes. He turned back to his other noblemen. "Let us speak in conjecture, then. Who would you prefer on the Chrysanthemum throne—the Crown Prince, or Imperial Lord Ryūkotsusei?"
That answer was simple. Imperial Lord Ryūkotsusei was not necessarily a horrible leader—certainly not worse than Katsushika, in Tōga's opinion. But he was known for draconian measures, ruthlessness, and changeability. One day, a person was favored, and the very next, they could be executed based on the Eastern Lord's mood alone. It was those three facts that distinguished him from the Emperor, his older half-brother.
It was also these three things that made the Emperor mistrustful of him.
Across the room, another courtier spoke up. "Imperial Lord Ryūkotsusei has no children and is not married. In that aspect, he's similar to Crown Prince."
"Precisely. If Ryūkotsusei leaves the East, who will lead? Better to let the Crown Prince rule with the assistance of existing courtiers than go through such a drastic change," Katsushika said contentedly.
The noblemen sighed. Tōga allowed himself to snort. Katsushika had taken advantage of the current Emperor's illness to allow his territory to practically fall to shambles. It's no wonder that he preferred the Crown Prince's inefficiency to the sturdiness of a possible alternative.
"There's certainly more to the royal family then Ryūkotsusei," another nondescript courtier said.
Katsushika's lips pursed. "Well, let us review the male lines. There was Lord Hyōga, but he went rogue during the war and he and his son were exiled. There was the Setsuna clan, descendants of the former emperor's full-brother, but—"
The room grew tense. Tōga saw Katsushika's teeth grit and his hand tighten on his cup. Katsushika glanced at the Western Lord next. "Then there's Imperial Lord Tokudaiji, but he'd rather swallow his own sword than stay in one place for any extended period of time, and he's further removed in the line than, say, Ryūkotsusei or potential heirs in the female line, which makes it harder to justify."
Tōga responded to the slight with a sly joviality. "I have much to thank my ancestors for in that respect."
A titter rose around the room. Katsushika grunted to bring the space back to order and continued his pretentious exposition. "Among the princesses, most have daughters or are nuns, with the exception of Princess Saeko, who has Sesshōmaru. Let's consider again: Crown Prince, Imperial Lord Ryukotsusei, or young Lord Tokudaiji?"
Everyone pretty much agreed that Crown Prince was incompetent, so it was simple to pull him out of the running. When it came to Ryūkotsusei and Sesshōmaru, however, no one spoke a word, in part so that they might avoid offending Imperial Lord Tokudaiji and also because they were truly stumped. Naturally, Tōga would choose his own flesh and blood over Ryūkotsusei but it was simple to see why many would not. Sesshōmaru was not inconstant like Ryūkotsusei and did not play favorites—he was simply the type to dislike everyone equally and not extend much grace. He was known for this already in the West, and his manner of leadership had long since been more or less exacerbated by the Princess' influence and only countered in his father's absence by the efforts of Lord Myōga, Lord Saya, and Lord Totosai, though a letter from Lord Bokusenō was often most effective.
"Say what you want about Crown Prince, but he is movable," Katsushika finished. "Lord Ryūkotsusei and young Lord Tokudaiji are not. What's more, we'd have to concern ourselves with the quality of their potential Empresses and other consorts and their maiden families—it's simply too exhaustive."
A maid came around with a bottle to pour more sake for the noblemen. Tōga placed his hand over his cup to reject the offer.
"My son has much to learn about being an Imperial Lord," Tōga said, dropping the immature 'as does yours' phrase he wanted to add. "I assure you; he has no desire to be Emperor."
Katsushika huffed. "You wouldn't want to see your son as Emperor?"
"You said it yourself—there aren't enough sons to go around. Moreover, he's my only child. The West would be in a rather tough spot without him."
In truth, the whole topic bothered him, as did knowing it was being readily discussed at noble dinner tables, common restaurants, and pleasure houses alike. The most noisome problems often started off as mere words in small places. Fate only knew what was being discussed in the Capitol right outside the palace gates.
"Well, enough of this. We all know that I don't enjoy discussing politics too much," the older man said affectedly before clapping his hands together. At this prompting, servants began to spill into the rooms again, carrying with them dessert plates. "Eat, there's still much more left of the night!"
Tōga sighed and placed his hand under his chin.
The city bells rang five times. The hour of the dog had arrived.
The sky was darker now, its warm pinks and oranges deepening into black bespeckled with stars. One by one servants and workers in different buildings along the streets lit the diversely shaped festival lanterns, illuminating the roads in warm firelight.
Many of the young wealthy women in attendance had long since handed off their trinkets to servants or packed them away in ornate trousseaus to be packed away and delivered to their inn rooms or city manors in preparation for rest, as was considered proper. But Rin, ignorant and unafraid of social customs, was still flitting back and forth between merchant stalls with such fervor that she resembled to Sesshōmaru more of a little golden hummingbird rather than a human being.
Despite her boundless energy, she wasn't buying much. The honeyed apple had long since been eaten and the stick it was on properly disposed of. With one hand still gripping his sleeve, she would simply go from stall to stall to observe an object or an activity, remark on something that had captured her interest, and then dart away without a word to spare to the merchant who was counting on her to actually make a purchase. Sesshōmaru would not mutter a complaint about it—after all, he'd rather not spend too much on cheap trinkets and then have to carry them back to the inn—but it did make him wonder why he had been made to accompany her if she was simply going to amble about.
"What's wrong?" Sesshōmaru finally asked, stopping his long stride.
Rin blinked, surprised at the sudden question. She pushed the fabric of the uchikatsugi from her face and titled her head up to look him in the eye. "Nothing's wrong."
"You aren't purchasing anything."
"I haven't seen anything I want to buy."
With those words, Sesshōmaru turned in the direction of the inn. Rin rushed to latch onto his arm.
"Hey!" She exclaimed. "That doesn't mean I won't. Can't we stay out a bit longer?"
The festivalgoers around them stared curiously at what they mistook as a random public display of intimacy.
Sesshōmaru considered it. There was something slightly wistful in her deep brown eyes still, even with all the jovial festival activity that surrounded her. As much as he hated the ruckus, staying out a bit longer would certainly be better than Rin staring sadly at the wall for the rest of the night.
Rin gave him a toothy grin and scanned the area for more activities. Further down, a handful of people had formed a wide circle around a stall. Gently, she tugged on Sesshōmaru's arm; the young man reluctantly obeyed.
A small tōko game was occurring. Two young women, slightly older than Rin, had just finished playing. The winner of the game held a pretty pearl and gold hairpin triumphantly in her hands, while the loser was staring at her rather grumpily.
"Next challengers, come forward!" The game master called out. "Our next prize is a golden whistle, one of the finest and clearest in the land. It's only a 1 shu to play!"
A servant held up the whistle on a wooden platter for all to see. The bright gold of it glinted in the light, and Rin could see that etched into its interior were images of birds and flowers and tree branches.
A woman in an uchikatsugi and alavish pink kosode stepped forward. "I'll play!"
When Rin next glanced at Sesshōmaru, he was staring down at her with a raised brow. "You can play tōko?"
Rin shrugged. "No, but I guess I'll learn." Then, stepping forward, she called out to the game master: "Sir! I'll play, too!"
The game master clapped his hands together, thankful that his little tōko stall was attracting so many visitors. "Excellent!"
His male assistant rushed to hand the young woman their arrows. They were simple wood, lacking any sort of broadhead that might cause serious harm. The pot was a few meters away, made out of simple iron painted with gold trimmings. In addition to its main stem, it had two "ears" on either side of it with holes in the center.
"We'll play half a game—five rounds of four arrows each. The kettle is ten points, ears are four, and if you're brave another to throw two arrows and hit both ears, that's six. Only one player can throw at a time. If—"
"Alright, sir, we all know the rules," the pink girl said impatiently. "Let's play!"
Rin did not know how to play but did not bother voicing this. After all, the most she had to do was throw some arrows into a pot. How hard could that be?
The game master pursed his lips at the rude interruption. "So be it, then. I'll allow you to shoot first, since you took on the challenge first."
The girl smiled haughtily and threw her first arrow. It clanged roughly against the pot but did not make it through any of the holes. The young woman frowned.
The game master turned to Rin. "Throw whenever you're ready, Miss."
Rin did just that. It wasn't a bad throw per se—it simply didn't end up in the actual pot. The next few throws went like this for a while, until finally the two women were both on their fourth arrow of the third round with no points on the board.
From the sidelines, Sesshōmaru rolled his eyes. At the rate they were going, it seemed like neither of them would win the whistle without paying extra for a few more rounds.
The young woman in pink let out an exaggerated sigh. "Sir! There must be something wrong with these arrows. Back home, I'm considered an excellent tōko player, yet here I haven't gotten a single one in yet."
The game master scoffed at the accusations. "I assure you, Miss, there are nothing wrong with these arrows. Perhaps it's just that you aren't truly as good as you believe you are."
The pink woman cried out indignantly. "Why—"
"Don't let him anger you, Miss," one of her servants behind her stated. "You'll surely get it in this time."
The woman tried again. Another miss. She stamped her foot, visibly angry.
The game master turned to Rin once more, who truly did not care about the game that much to be so upset about it. She threw the arrow. To the surprise of everyone, including herself and Sesshōmaru, the arrow flew right into the right ear of the pot.
"Ear!" The male assistant called out. "Four points!"
With a proud beam, Rin turned to look at her companion. But Sesshōmaru, who was no longer looking in the direction of the game, had not noticed. Mere seconds before Rin threw the arrow that finally gave her some points, the young man had noticed out of the corner of his eye a strange man loitering in the steadily flowing crowd. Despite his plain, neutral-colored commoner clothing, Sesshōmaru felt as if he were out of place among the milieu. He had been staring a bit too steadily at the women's game of tōko to be a casual onlooker, and when Sesshōmaru had turned his gaze towards him, he quickly turned away, pretending to be interested in an alternate merchant's stall.
Sesshōmaru's eyes narrowed. It seemed as if they were being watched—quite closely, too.
"Fourth round!" The game master called out. His assistant retrieved the arrows from around the pot and handed them to the women once more.
The pink woman threw the arrow almost immediately, this time with more aggression. Again, it missed the pot, causing her to stomp her feet in anger.
As her rival threw a tantrum, Rin threw her next arrow. Fate seemed to be on her side now, for it flew towards the ear, this time the left one, a lodged itself there effortlessly.
"Ear! Four points!" The male servant said again.
"I'm tired," the woman said simply. "Can I ask someone else to finish the game for me?"
Rin turned to face her with furrowed brows. "What?"
The game master shook his head. "Not unless you concede first."
"My hand hurts," the girl whined affectedly. "I'll pay 5 more shu."
The game master went quiet for a few moments, considering the idea. Finally, he said. "Alright! Find your alternate player."
The girl's maid, who Rin hadn't seen disappear, suddenly arrived dragging a man behind her. He wore the fine clothes that indicated his high rank, perhaps among the merchant class. Under the lantern light his face was slightly red from drinking, but he seemed mostly coherent.
The man looked around confused before angrily snatching his arm away from the maid. "You dragged me here for a game of tōko? Are you all mad?"
"You just need to shoot seven more arrows," the girl complained. "The faster you do it, the faster you can get back to the pleasure houses!"
The man looked Rin up and down and laughed in a haughty manner that let her know that the two were siblings. Rin rolled her eyes at him. He seemed a bit tipsy, at least—perhaps that would hinder any skills he might have.
With grand, histrionic movements, the man took an arrow into each hand and threw them at the same time. They slid easily into the ears of the pitch pot. The girl smiled contentedly.
"Both ears!" The assistant cried. "Six points!"
"I want to bring in an alternative, too!" Rin exclaimed quickly.
The man began to boast. "I'm the best tōko player in my hometown. Who dares to come up against me?"
The girl had said something similar but was still losing to her earlier. Surely, he could be beaten.
The game master waved his hand in assent. Immediately, she hurried over to Sesshōmaru, who still wasn't paying much attention to the game.
"Lord Sesshōmaru," Rin sang gently. He still didn't turn to face her but made a small sound in response to let her know he was listening.
"Could you please shoot a few arrows for me?"
The presumed spy was still in sight, fiddling with a few objects at a merchant stall. "No," Sesshōmaru replied.
"But I really need an alternate," Rin prodded.
"If it's this much trouble, ask to buy the whistle outright."
"I'd like to win it fairly."
"Asking me to play is fair?"
Rin shrugged. "She requested an alternate first. So…. yes?"
Sesshōmaru turned his attention back to the game. The young man and women were speaking enthusiastically to each other now. Throwing arrows into both ears simultaneously into both ears was merely a parlor trick for prepubescent boys to demonstrate at gatherings. Strategically, it was simply a waste of an arrow, especially when once could get four points on an ear with a single arrow. Beating the man would be quick.
The young Lord glanced to where the spy had been standing. To his dismay, the stranger had vanished.
Rin smiled when he stepped forward. "Thank you, Lord Sesshōmaru!"
"Lord?" The man muttered.
With a bored look on his face, Sesshōmaru took an arrow into his hand. He flicked his wrist quickly and the arrow soared through the air and into the stem of the pot.
"Kettle! Ten points!"
Rin clapped eagerly. The girl stiffened.
"Don't be concerned, sister," the man said breezily, taking another arrow in his hand. He threw it, aiming for the stem, only to get it in the right arm instead.
"Arm! Four points!"
Effortlessly, Lord Sesshōmaru picked up another arrow and flicked it into the stem.
"Kettle! Ten points!"
"You already wasted two arrows on the arms!" The girl groaned.
The man pursed his lips. "Calm yourself. The game isn't over yet!"
But it practically was. He had already wasted an arrow, Sesshōmaru was incapable of missing a single shot, and Rin had already had eight more points than the girl by the time the alternates had come in. By the time Sesshōmaru threw the final arrow of the game, he and Rin had achieved seventy-eight points altogether, while the opposing duo had only gained twenty-eight, all on account of the man.
"Wait," the man called out. "I would like to call for a new game."
"No, you would not," Sesshōmaru said sharply, preferring not to waste any more time on a silly festival game.
The man turned to argue, but wisely decided not to upon being met with Sesshōmaru's stony expression.
"Fine! I concede."
"You didn't concede," Rin muttered. "You lost."
The man threw a dirty look at Rin and received Sesshōmaru's acerbic golden gaze in response. Stiffening, he turned away.
As the two siblings argued about the loss, the game master's assistant approached Sesshōmaru to present him with the prize. In turn, Sesshōmaru handed it to Rin, who handled it as if it were a prized, legendary object. When she blew it, the sound it made was high, clear, and loud. The young Lord suddenly felt like the thing would become annoying in the future; however, he held his tongue upon seeing how much happier Rin looked with the whistle in her grasp.
A small river ran through the city, its clear rivers dividing the wealthiest section of the urban sprawl from the other social classes. They were walking over the ornate red and black wooden bridge in relative silence with Rin's hand holding on to Sesshōmaru's sleeve when she finally revealed the truth to him.
"I guess I was a bit sad earlier," she explained gently. "I was thinking about my brother."
Through all the drama with the Northern tribesmen and their ongoing investigation into Ryūkotsusei's hidden agenda, Sesshōmaru had admittedly forgotten about Rin's absent sibling. Despite the most likely outcome—that was, her brother being abducted and thrust into perpetual bondage—his father had still sent Myōga out in an attempt to at least give Rin some closure.
"My brother and I would attend festivals occasionally, just to look around. It feels sort of odd being here without him," Rin said, her clear, bright voice slow and slightly sad.
Sesshōmaru kept silent, choosing to observe her instead. He couldn't see her face very well through the veil, but each time the wind picked up slightly a blew a bit of it to the side, he did not see her smiling. For once, he truly did not know what to say. He wouldn't lie and tell her that her brother was safe; after all, they still had not heard any news from Myōga. But he definitely could not tell her the alternative.
He was an expert in many things; emotions were not one of them. He simply was not built for comfort.
It seemed like she had not been expecting a verbal response anyway. Her attention was soon caught by a multitude of glowing objects of various shapes in sizes, many of them covered in writing, ascending into the night sky from the other side of the bridge. Rin's eyes twinkled when she saw them.
"What are these?" She asked suddenly.
"Lanterns," Sesshōmaru responded quickly, thankful for the change of topic. "People write their desires on them and send them into the air."
"Have you ever written one?" Rin asked. Sesshōmaru let out a light scoff, as if offended by the mere thought. There was nothing in the world he desired that he could not simply grasp and take.
Rin tried again. "What do they say?"
"You cannot read?" Sesshōmaru said, his voice reflecting a hint of surprise.
The young woman shook her head. He'd realized what a silly question it was as soon as it had left his lips. Of course, she was not literate—she had, after all, been born a commoner. But it would prove a problem when it came to convincing his mother to accept her into his service. Perhaps she could be stationed in Lord Tōga's apartments: since he was away much of the time, the most she would have to do was keep it free of dust and dirt. Or, if she could bear Chief Steward Jaken's nagging, she might be able to work in his—
The fact that the last thought had briefly passed through his mind was enough to make the young Lord frown. She would not, could not be employed at his apartments. When they returned, he would wipe his hands clean of her. She was his father's ward; she should be his father's responsibility.
Sesshōmaru turned his glance to the heavens. "Money," he said, glancing at the globe-shaped lantern nearest to them.
Rin looked around and spotted an oval lantern. "What about that one?"
"Good harvest."
"And that square one over there?"
"Sex."
Rin blinked. "…really?"
"Unfortunately."
"Ew," she said simply. "Would you write something for me?"
Sesshōmaru assented, and together they finished crossing the bridge to retrieve a floating lantern. According to the person manning the stall, the lantern was free of charge, courtesy of some nobleman residing in the city. Rin picked up a globe-shaped one and brought it to Sesshōmaru.
In the past, when she had still been in that little village exchanging obscene acts for survival, she had often found herself wishing for many things: for a shelter that did not leak with each passing rain; for enough food and money to last a few days; for the men not to be so rough with her body during sex, and for their wives not bludgeon her to death afterwards; and, of course, for Tarō's return. Though it had taken a while, all of them had manifested in the strangest way that past month, all because of the Inu no Taisho, who had given her freedom. All except for one…
"Family," Rin said simply.
Sesshōmaru started to write, his brush strokes quick but precise, until the crisp, black characters for 'family' had printed on the beige paper of the lantern.
Rin hesitated before sending it off. "This won't land in anyone's yard, right?" She asked cautiously.
"Not if you do it over the river."
So, the two young people doubled back towards the bridge, where she lit it and let it go. It soared quickly away from them to join the other lanterns in the night sky amongst the heavenly bodies.
Rin pushed the veil away from her face to get a better view of the lanterns, allowing Sesshōmaru to catch a clear view of her face again. She was smiling wide, the reflection of the many lantern lights twinkling in her eyes. It was there on that bridge that Sesshōmaru decided he preferred the sight of her smile over anything else.
A/N: Not gonna lie; I had LOTS of fun writing this chapter. This was all only ½ of what I originally outlined for chapter 21. The next part, of course, will become chapter 22.
Before I end, I'm going to try to clear up any confusion regarding the tangled family web touched on in the last chapter and mentioned a bit more above:
So, Sesshōmaru's mother (who I call Saeko) is sort of the anchoring point here. She's actually Katsushika's niece-in-law – her maternal aunt was Katsushika's first wife/Toran's mother. Tōran is the only one of Katsushika's children related to Sesshōmaru and his mother by blood. This last detail didn't matter much in this chapter, but there is a slight difference in how Sesshōmaru treats Tōran versus the rest of his "cousins" (as we'll see next time). And, again, Ryūkotsusei, Sessmom/Saeko, and the current emperor are all half-siblings.
Additional, slightly relevant fact: Since Tōga's grandfather (previous Western Imperial Lord) and Sessmom's grandfather (the previous emperor) were half-brothers, as mentioned in a previous chapter, Tōga and Sessmom are (half-)cousins once removed. The nobility is so fun, isn't it.
Oh! And I meant to mention this in the last chapter, but I've been quietly planning somewhat of a companion fic to this revolving around Kagome (with some appearances from a few other characters0. I was planning on calling it A Northern Tale, which is sort of lame, but hey. I'm outlining it very, very carefully since it might end up becoming slightly relevant to this fic in the future.
Feel free to drop a review if you enjoyed this chapter. See you next time!