a/n: Please forgive me for any typos.
DISCLAIMER: Still don't own this series!
SONG OF THE WEST
an Inuyasha fanfic
xxii.
Lord Ryūkotsusei arrived not too long after supper ended, when the leftover dishes had been whisked out of sight, the fusuma separating the most high-ranking men from the other lords had been opened, and the dancers Katsushika invited were swirling around in their fine, light-colored silks. A wave of silence fell over the room as men stood one-by-one to pay their deference to the Eastern Imperial Lord.
The first thing Tōga noticed about the man was how mature he looked. It had been two decades since they'd been in such close proximity, preferring instead to spar from a distance with words and etiquette during annual court sessions before the Emperor. Being the same age, the two of them had each naturally passed their physical prime; however, in Ryūkotsusei's case, the difference was severe. Years of sequestering himself in his castle had made him withered. In his adolescence he had been tall and slim yet athletic, much like Sesshōmaru was now, all of which had given way to slight gauntness. His once handsome face was now twisted into a cruel, supercilious expression, and his deep red eyes, which were warm and lively in Tōga's memory, swept over the minor noblemen with cold indifference as he crossed the room to join his peers. His long purple robes and grey hair flowed after him.
The long-haired youth accompanying him had such a disparate aura from his master that Tōga wondered how the boy had even been allowed in Ryūkotsusei's presence. His black hair was tied up and out of his face with a yellow ribbon, completely exposing his slightly feminine facial features, haughty red eyes, and amused smirk. He was dressed informally for the occasion in his light blue haori, yellow vest, and brown hakama.
Tōga stood to bow when Ryūkotsusei finally reached the end of the room as part of formality. If the Eastern Lord were surprised to see his old friend, he did not show it, simply opting to give an uncharacteristically respectful bow in return and moving to take his seat on the other side of Katsushika. A small spider was crawling across his low table; Ryūkotsusei simply crushed it with the bottom of his cup. The merriment and conversation resumed around them.
"You are late," Katsushika said, swirling his drink around in his cup. As was his wont, he remained seated.
"I was so busy enjoying the festival that I lost track of time," Ryūkotsusei deadpanned. Any sort of an apology was omitted.
Katsushika glanced at Ryūkotsusei's companion. "And which family's son is this?"
The stranger perked up and opened his mouth to speak but was halted by a curt glance from Ryūkotsusei.
"You wouldn't know them," the man explained. "But no need to be so curious. I assure you; his clan is too low in rank to be suitable for your brood of girls."
Katsushika bristled at the insult. It was no secret that the two men disliked each other—Ryūkotsusei thought Katsushika lurid and vexatious, while Ryūkotsusei had rejected each of Katsushika's daughters when they had come of age so rapidly that it had left a bad taste in the older man's mouth. Still, there must have been an actual point to Ryūkotsusei's presence. Surely he didn't come all this way to insult people and leave.
Perhaps, Tōga thought, he would be able to retire from the conversation altogether and let Ryūkotsusei and Katsushika argue. Alas, the oldest man turned to face him:
"You are awfully silent," Katsushika said, accusatorily.
Tōga raised his brow. "Do appease your anger, elder."
"Perhaps I should let you lead the conversation," Katsushika glared at the gaunt man, "since he's too self-righteous to speak to anyone else."
Ryūkotsusei rolled his eyes but looked towards Tōga. "Imperial Lord Tokudaiji. How is my dear sister?"
"Well and pampered, as usual."
"And the boy?"
Tōga rolled his eyes. "He'll be twenty-three soon enough. Certainly not a boy."
"Young Lord Tokudaiji is probably at the festival. He was traveling with his father, after all," Katsushika added coyly, much to Tōga's annoyance.
Ryūkotsusei huffed. "You're still gallivanting around the country after all these years?"
"Yes, I am—it keeps my health intact," Tōga said simply. "And I've found it best to handle issues directly rather than sending orders down a chain of courtiers. I recall His Late Majesty applauding my initiative in this regard; perhaps, you both should try it."
At the mention of his late father, Ryūkotsusei's teeth clenched. His companion seemed to notice nothing, preferring to entertain himself by folding a stray piece of origami paper into a crane as he sat.
"You two are distracting me from the dancers," Katsushika said, tense at having been subtly insulted a second time. When he clapped his hands, one of the dancers, a beautiful woman far younger than him, came to pour his drink. "Come now; do you two not like the women I have selected for tonight?"
The women—there was quite a few of them in the great hall serving food, playing music, dancing, chatting, and whatever else to entertain Katsushika's guests—were each rather beautiful with their expensive silks, intricate coiffures, and perfectly painted faces. It seemed that all Hyōkusui's restaurants, inns, okiya, and perhaps, more scandalously, its yukaku, had been emptied of their women for the night.
A pretty young woman in blue silk went to pour Ryūkotsusei some wine. He roughly clamped his hand over his conspicuously empty cup.
"Far too ornamented," Ryūkotsusei replied, throwing a sharp glance at her.
Katsushika's eyes narrowed. "I recall you quite enjoying ornamented women in your youth."
"Yes, youth. My tastes have long since changed."
"How so?"
When Ryūkotsusei gave brief pause, Tōga realized that the man, as always, was up to no good.
"Heavy makeup and ornate fashions may have flared my love for the exotic back then," he explained, "but now I see its all frivolous. Nothing but transient fantasy."
The Northern Lord laughed derisively. "What's wrong with a little bit of fantasy now and then? Reality bores me. Additionally, that is the style in my city for performers, courtesans, and noblewomen alike in present. You'd be hard pressed to find a woman who looks different."
Ryūkotsusei smirked as if accepted a challenge.
"Before I entered the gates of Shitennō," he stared, quite affectedly, "as I was riding through the city streets, I saw quite the eye-catching young woman taking part in the festival. She was petite of frame; far younger than us in this room, but the perfect age for a bride, if I were looking for one; had a face as round and bright as the sun—a healthy and warm glow, mind you, unlike the deathly painted pallor the entertainers and noblewomen choose to wear—and her golden silks only complemented this. Her hair was dark and long and braided, and the most delicate butterfly kanzashi was—"
"You are speaking as if you want someone to share your bedchamber tonight, not pour your drink," Tōga interrupted, already weary of the literary tangent the other man had dove into.
"What? Don't you?"
The question was pointed.
"You forget that you're speaking to the only Imperial Lord with a wife to return to."
"Surely my Princess sister understands how trying a long journey can be on a man."
"After two decades of travel you learn to abstain."
"Are you certain?" Ryūkotsusei said haughtily. Tōga rolled his eyes.
Still, the man's words were odd. Unless there were two girls in the city with gold silks and a butterfly kanzashi, the girl Ryūkotsusei had so romantically described sounded eerily like his own ward. Clearly, he had been right to make Sesshōmaru accompany her for the night—with the heir to the West by her side, the young woman was in safe hands. Tōga had known Ryūkotsusei had something up his sleeve but had not expected the man to reveal his hand so quickly.
Katsushika seemed mildly intrigued. "Butterfly kanzashi and gold silks?" He snapped his fingers to get the attention of two guards standing nearby. "I am sure I can find the woman who matches that description."
"How crass," Tōga scolded. "Do you often pull poor girls from the street in this manner?"
"Be at ease! Truthfully, I'm not sure this woman is more than a figment of Lord Ryūkotsusei's imagination, but I am willing to play his game. If she exists and happens to be the daughter of some noble family, I shall act as matchmaker and negotiate with her guardians in the morning. If she's from some low-tier merchant family or worse, she ought to be thankful to be favored by such a high-ranking Lord." Katsushika let out a laugh suddenly. "Perhaps the Emperor will reward me for finding someone to bear Eastern heirs!"
Ryūkotsusei waved his hand dismissively, content to have gotten the smallest reaction out of his Western rival. "Alas; that flower has already been plucked."
His sharp eyes flickered to Tōga, whose eyes narrowed.
Katsushika failed to notice the tense atmosphere. "The best often are. I suppose you will simply have to make do with the women here."
Beyond the castle walls, four drumbeats sounded.
Soon after the announcement of the hour of the boar, while gazing steadily at more trinkets and baubles displayed on different stall counters, Rin heard the low, demanding murmur of a stomach in need of food.
For once, it wasn't her own.
Surprised, Rin glanced at Sesshōmaru, who stood a comfortable distance behind her with his usual cool, nonchalant expression on his face.
"You're hungry!" Rin exclaimed.
Sesshōmaru opened his mouth, prepared to deny the sudden accusation, but was betrayed by his stomach again.
"See, you should've eaten that apple," Rin said smugly. "I'm kind of hungry too, so let's find something to eat."
The young Lord huffed. "I don't want anything here."
"It's a festival! There's plenty of delicious things around," she said. They had long since entered one of the wealthiest areas of the city, which was filled to the brim with Lords and Ladies from around the country. There had to be something to Lord Sesshōmaru's taste here.
Rin looked around at the grand wooden buildings and their unreadable signs before glancing back at the stall keeper.
"Which is the best restaurant?"
The stall keeper pointed down the road. Happily, Rin grasped Sesshōmaru's arm, and Sesshōmaru quietly allowed her to lead him through the crowd.
The wooden building was average from the outside, but the intramural was unexpectedly expansive, consisting of one round central room with a multitude of comfortably spaced tables. A mezzanine hung slightly overhead and around the inside edge, sectioned into rooms hidden behind fusumas garnished by paintings of winking flowers and bowing tree boughs.
It was only when the two young people reached the front podium in the vestibule that Rin realized she had no idea what to say to the restaurant worker behind it. She had never dined inside a restaurant before, much less one so fancy. A simple "We want food" would be more than uncouth here.
Sesshōmaru must have decided he truly was hungry because, much to Rin's relief, he took over. In one swift movement, he removed his mondokoro from the sleeve Rin was still latching onto and placed it on the counter. Before the worker had time to react to the sight of the Tokudaiji seal, Sesshōmaru's deep, authoritative voice rang through the air:
"We need a private room. There should be no one on either side of us."
The worker blinked, stole a momentary glance at the veiled young woman still holding on to Sesshōmaru's arm, and then back at Sesshōmaru. "Will it only be you two tonight, my Lord?"
"Is anyone else standing here?"
The worker stiffened, but led the pair along the perimeter, up the stairs to the mezzanine, and to their private room in silence. It, like everything else in the city, was grand, with decorated fusuma acting as walls on all four sides. The screen directly across from the entrance was open to reveal the balcony. As Sesshōmaru lowered himself to sit on the tatami-lined floor before the low, long wooden table in the center of the room, Rin flitted to the balcony to examine the view. Their room overlooked much of the festival; from there, she could spot the bridge where the lanterns were still being released, the tōko stall where Sesshōmaru had won her whistle, and more. There was also a large stage she hadn't noticed before. A woman was crooning a song about two lovers separated by war as people huddled around to hear her tale. With an ebullient sigh, Rin flipped the veil away from her face. When she glanced back at her companion, his eyes were fixed on her.
"It's just you and me," Rin said, still beaming. "What's the point in keeping my face covered?"
Sesshōmaru looked away.
The fusuma slid open to reveal a young girl, around eleven or twelve, with a bottle of wine, a tea kettle, and some cups. She placed all the items on the table and left with another bow. Rin was surprised to see someone so young working. At that age, she had still only been stealing.
"What do you want?" Sesshōmaru asked, glancing down at the piece of parchment on the table that Rin had not noticed previously.
"What is there?"
Sesshōmaru read the menu aloud.
"Hmm," Rin drawled, turning back to the city view. "I think I'll have some chukaman."
Far off on the stage, the woman's crooning ended. The festival workers were scrambling to set up props for the next performance.
Sesshōmaru, still seated, simply stared at her slightly shrouded silhouette in silence. She had been much more spirited since they had left the bridge: her voice was girlish and weightless again, her movements jaunty, and her smile somehow even more vibrant. With that gold kosode, she was full of light.
The fusuma slid open again. Instead of a servant coming to receive orders as he was expecting, a tall, slender young woman with long blue hair was standing on the threshold. Her skin was pale against the dark purple kosode, the fine quality of which suggesting nobility, and the veil of her uchikatsugi had been pulled back to reveal two haughty yet mirthful blue eyes.
Despite them being of similar rank, Sesshōmaru did not stand to bow. Instead, he merely scowled. "Why are you here?"
"Rude as ever, I see," the young woman said, her voice smooth. "I saw your stamp downstairs in the vestibule."
Her blue eyes darted about the room until they finally happened upon Rin, who was still taking in the sights and sounds from the balustrade.
"They said you had a guest. I never knew you preferred Northern courtesans."
"She is not a courtesan," Sesshōmaru huffed. "Though it's certainly none of your concern."
The tall woman scoffed as if she did not believe him.
Rin, meanwhile, was all but absorbed in the drama of the stage. The transition had since concluded, and a man and woman—or, rather, two male actors, one dressed as a woman—had taken to the stage to perform. Their faces were heavily painted and awash in color, as were their exaggerated, overabundant silks and hairpieces. Rin was amazed that they could stand to wear so many layers in the summer heat that persisted despite the absence of the sun. From what Rin could understand of their affected, operatic tones, the two actors were meant to represent a noble husband and wife, preparing to betroth their daughter to another noble clan. They kept on repeating something about the sixteenth night in their lyrics.
It was, apparently, a very popular story. The crowd watching the play on the ground had doubled, and even some noblemen had begun to peek their heads out from the balconies of surrounding buildings to analyze the ruckus.
Rin turned. "Lord Sesshōmaru—"
Her voice died in her throat upon seeing the strange woman in the doorway. Likewise, after noticing the lack of makeup that would easily mark a woman as a courtesan or entertainer, the tall woman's brow rose slightly.
"Oh," the tall woman said, surprised. "She isn't a courtesan."
Rin glanced apprehensively at Sesshōmaru. In spite of the young lord's perpetually unhappy appearance, his body language betrayed his relative ease with the tall woman's presence. He wasn't overjoyed to see her—Rin didn't think Sesshōmaru to be someone who could ever be overjoyed with anything—but he didn't want her driven away either. The stranger couldn't be too bad, then.
Sesshōmaru filled in the gaps. "This is Lady Tōran."
"Oh!" Rin did her best bow.
There were a few minutes of awkward silence before Tōran spoke again. "And she is?"
Rin started. "I'm—"
"Once again," Sesshōmaru interrupted coolly, "that is none of your concern."
Rin blinked but said nothing. Tōran clicked her tongue, took a seat across the table from Sesshōmaru, and helped herself to some tea.
Sesshōmaru's brow rose. "No wine?"
"That is none of your concern," Tōran mimicked. "Don't make me out to be some lush in front of your friend."
The fusuma slid open again. A servant, this time an adult, bowed and prepared to take orders.
"I want shūto. And bring some Chrysanthemum tea," Tōran said.
Sesshōmaru glared at her.
"What? I'll pay. It's not often I see you, anyway."
The play outside switched scenes again. The noble husband was speaking to another elaborately outfitted man, this time his daughter's betrothed, about politics. It was certainly a slow starter. With a sigh, Rin finally moved away from the window, crossed the room, and plopped down next to Sesshōmaru.
"Tonsuko and nikuman," Sesshōmaru told the servant, his gold eyes fixed on Rin again.
The servant bowed and left.
"Do you generally enjoy kabuki?" Tōran asked.
Rin hadn't seen a play in her life before that night. "Not really."
"My younger sisters adore it. I find it noisy and graceless—far too low class."
Low class wasn't a term Rin would use to describe the elaborate fabrics, makeup, and hairpieces she had seen on stage, but she kept her thoughts to herself. Naturally, a woman as wealthy as Tōran would feel that way.
The familiar sound of the fusuma sliding against the floor came, and into the room stepped two young women, only slightly older than Rin but younger than Tōran, both holding honeyed apples and various festival baubles. The first was beautiful, with delicate, high cheekbones and upturned green eyes. She bore two matching flower kanzashi in her long red hair, and her green kimono and pink obi glimmered in the candlelight. The second…
Rin stiffened and moved her veil in front of her face again. It was the roguish Lady Karan, with her gamine hairstyle. She was dressed much simpler than she had been in the trial, donning a simple pastel yellow kosode and red sash.
Younger sisters… So that's who Lady Tōran was—the eldest daughter of Imperial Lord Katsushika. Sesshōmaru's cousin. No wonder the two seemed so familiar with each other.
Karan's fiery eyes flew immediately to Sesshōmaru. "You!"
"I ordered a private room for a reason," Sesshōmaru said to Tōran.
Tōran shrugged. "Don't mind her; she is only slightly drunk."
"You were awfully rude to me in Yobetsu," Karan said. "I ought to not speak to you at all!"
"Then don't."
The yet-unnamed sister seemed more mellow overall but was quick to notice the extra pair of eyes and ears in the room. "What's this? A nighttime tryst?"
Sesshōmaru ignored her altogether. The young woman frowned prettily.
"Shūran, where did Shunran go?" Tōran asked.
"He's most likely at some brothel."
There was a loud roar of astonishment from the theatre audience outside. The play must have gotten interesting.
When Rin glanced away from the balcony again to find Karan squinting at her. She gripped Sesshōmaru's arm. Beneath the fabric, the muscle there tautened slightly under her touch.
"Who is this? I think I recognize her from somewhere."
"I'm certain you do not," Sesshōmaru said brusquely.
Karan grimaced and glanced at Tōran, who merely shrugged, before taking her seat at the table with a huff. Rin, thankful that Karan had failed to recognize the impoverished young woman she had once threatened to send to Hyōkusui's red-light district, released a silent breath of relief and let go of Sesshōmaru's arm.
Amid the revelry and drunkenness, when he had finally grown tired of the noblemen's palaver, Tōga quietly slipped out of the reception room and into the castle's lush courtyard for some much-needed silence. No new realizations had been made during the events of the night—if anything, it had only confirmed that Lord Katsushika was a giant, drunken fool, and that Lord Ryūkotsusei was a conniving jackass. He hadn't need to travel all this way to find that out.
Tōga inhaled deeply, taking in the warm summer air as he leaned against the wood guardrail. There was a steady ache winding through his muscles and deep into the bone. He wasn't used to doing nothing for so long, or being around people who made doing nothing a pastime.
Katsushika's courtyard, at least, was rather beautiful. There was a well-kept garden, most likely maintained by Tōran, filled with a variety of exotic trees and shrubs, a grand feat considering how bitterly cold it became during Hyōkusui's dry winters. But, most impressive of all, the courtyard was built so that it easily overlooked most of the city. In the night, Hyōkusui sparkled like gold. Various dots of firelight bespeckled the dimmed landscape like a cloud of lightning bugs. A hum of activity that could be heard even from the mountain filled the air. Tōga watched it curiously, wondering which street or building Sesshōmaru and Rin had ended up in by now. He would be surprised if they were still out, seeing as his son hated crowds—
Behind him, a person cleared their throat. Tōga did not need to turn to see who it was.
"Ryūkotsusei," he called out, his eyes still gazing towards the city. "What brings you here?"
Ryūkotsusei walked closer to the railing to stand next to Tōga. "I could ask the same of you."
"I was attempting to remove myself from you lot. Thanks for the interruption."
"Don't make me laugh."
"It wasn't a jest."
Ryūkotsusei turned to look Tōga in the face.
"Come now; let's try to put politics aside and speak as old friend. We're both more reasonable than Katsushika, surely."
Tōga rolled his eyes. He hadn't considered that snake of a man a friend in a very long time.
"We both know you aren't out here for small talk. What is it you wish to say?" Tōga asked.
"You're correct. I'm not here for idle chat," Ryūkotsusei said. "I heard about what happened in Yobetsu."
Tōga chuckled darkly. "Who hasn't?" Ryūkotsusei especially would've heard about it, since it was most likely him who had planned the whole affair. Now that Tōga thought about it, Ryūkotsusei's young companion seemed awfully like the Eastern stranger described during that maid's interrogation session.
"It isn't often something so dramatic happens, so naturally news spread quickly," Ryūkotsusei said. "But, then again, it seems as if the most shocking things frequently occur due to Northern ambitions. One would think Kusakabe would be more vigilant with his vassals after the Nabeshima incident."
Nabeshima. Tōga hadn't heard that family name in a long, long time.
"Thankfully, what happened in Yobetsu was nowhere near the magnitude of what the Nabeshima clan was preparing. And I'm perfectly intact, so there's no need to fret. Do excuse me—"
"There's also your son's matter," Ryūkotsusei interrupted.
Tōga's eyes narrowed. "What matter?"
The Eastern Lord's voice lowered to an almost mocking whisper:
"Your son has quite the upright reputation—never seen at any entertainment halls or brothels like Crown Prince or young Lord Katsushika. Who would've thought some plain Northern girl would catch his eye at this very festival? Though, I suppose she doesn't look so bad dressed in all the finery of a kept woman."
So the girl he described in the reception hall had been Rin, then. Tōga huffed. "You seem to watch my son closely."
"Your son, my nephew. It's only proper I show some avuncular concern for him."
"Don't bother. Sesshōmaru is doing nothing licentious, and the girl is none of your concern."
Ryūkotsusei hummed. "Perhaps you are correct, then. People don't just change overnight."
The conversation lulled for a moment, allowing the music and voices from the reception hall to infringe upon the tension of the courtyard, and then:
"I heard you pardoned some street whore in Yobetsu. Could it be that you've returned to your old ways, and that's your woman he's watching for the evening?'
Tōga cut his eyes at the conniving asshole beside him. The incline from the courtyard and down the mountainside was steep, and he felt the sudden desire to push the other man over the guardrail. "What a vivid imagination you have."
"I've heard of men preferring women of similar temperament to their mothers, but never to this degree."
"If you're trying to provoke me, it won't work. I am not the hot head I was two decades ago, nor am I ashamed of the sacrifices my mother made to survive."
"Appease your anger—it's not a provocation," Ryūkotsusei replied, affectedly oblivious. "Again, I'm only trying to check in on an old friend."
Tōga's shoulders slackened a bit. "Perhaps if you checked in more on your own affairs instead of that of others, your own mother's memorial tablet would be in the royal shrine in lieu of perpetual exile in Yumiori shrine. Though she was unfavored and unfaithful, you might be able to plead your case to the Emperor, since so many decades have passed."
It was a low blow, but an immensely satisfying one. Next to him, Ryūkotsusei snarled. "I—"
In the distance, something exploded. Tōga looked towards the horizon to see multicolored fireworks illuminating the night sky.
Surprisingly, Ryūkotsusei's anger had dissipated almost as quickly as it had manifested. Tōga was almost impressed.
"How garish," Ryūkotsusei clicked his tongue in displeasure; Tōga did not know if the comment was in reference to the slight about his mother or the fireworks. Perhaps it was both. "I'll take my leave first, since it will soon be crowded out here. Enjoy the fireworks."
Tōga grunted but said nothing more as the sound of Ryūkotsusei's footsteps receded towards the castle.
Rin blinked, feeling as if her eyes were deceiving her.
"What's that?"
Sesshōmaru blinked right back. The answer was obvious.
"Tonsoku."
Tonsoku! The young woman had to stifle a cry of surprise. She would've never imagined that someone as elegant as Sesshōmaru would enjoy something as simple as pig's trotters. Then again, they did look quite delicious burnished golden-brown from heat, spices, and the delicious looking broth in which they sat. Much better than her steamed dumplings, even…
Sesshōmaru must have read her mind, because before she could even open her mouth to ask, he said, "No."
It must've been a favorite dish, too!
"Please," Rin said. "I've never tried it before! And I'll trade you a dumpling for one."
Sesshōmaru eyed her warily, but eventually picked up a piece with his hashi* and plopped it onto her plate. Likewise, Rin happily moved one of her dumplings to replace the empty spot on his plate. The tonsoku was excessively chewy, but the flavoring was good.
The servants had brought out the food quite speedily, but Rin had suspected she'd only thought so because of how engrossed she had been in the kabuki play in the city square below. Though the performance had been quite slow to start, it had picked up the pace so much so that Rin was now struggling to keep up with the plot. Woefully empowered by their ambition, the noblemen and his future son-in-law had made a few bad moves, for by the end of the play, after some dramatic expressions, movements, and setting changes, both men and their entire families were dead.
Although she supposedly disliked plays of this sort, Tōran seemed impressed.
"So this was about the Nabeshima clan the whole time. How intriguing."
"The who?" Karan asked, vociferating Rin's similar sentiments.
Tōran rolled her eyes. "They supported the Setsuna clan's claim to the throne twenty years ago, when the former Emperor's health began to decline. The Setsunas failed of course, and their clan was annihilated, along with any families that supported them—including the Nabeshimas."
Clan annihilation. Rin shivered at the thought that a whole family could be killed due to one person's follies. She remembered the nobleman's daughter in the play and felt bad for her.
"If it was such a big deal, how come I've never heard of it?" Karan asked fatuously.
"Because you're a fool who never pays attention in lessons!" Shuran sang playfully.
Karan glared at her.
"That, and father prefers not to discuss it, since he was technically the matchmaker between the Setsuna son and the Nabeshima daughter," Toran said. "In fact, if he knew about this performance, he'd probably have a few heads cut off. It's why they omitted any Imperial Lords from the story. Every other detail could just be excused as mere coincidence."
The food had come out soon after, putting a swift end to that conversation. Tōran received her expensive-looking soup thing while Karan and Shuran dug into the many plates of sweets that they ordered, and the three carried on their own conversation so that Rin and Sesshōmaru were left functionally alone in each other's presences. Rin preferred it this way—she was infinitely more comfortable around Sesshōmaru than the three of them and had been prepared for their one-on-one time from the start.
There was a sudden chain of explosions, quick bursts of excitement that lit up the room and caught everyone's attention. Rin jolted slightly from the sudden burst of fireworks, the hotel explosion still fresh in her mind. Sesshōmaru stole another glance at her, and she gave a small smile in return. Thankfully, the other dinner guests were too enraptured in the lights display to notice.
Meanwhile, the next performer took to the raised stage. She, like the kabuki actors, was dressed in rich fabrics, the sleeve of her outer robe falling off her arm to reveal her elaborately decorated inner robe. She bore a fan in each of her pale hands, and whenever she twirled, her stylishly cropped short hair and green beaded earrings seemed buoyant. The crowd was rightfully enthralled by her delicate yet sharp movements, and the way that her striking blood-red eyes seemed to land upon every individual watching. Rin could've sworn she felt the dancer gazing into her very soul every now and then.
The fireworks soon passed, largely unappreciated by the busy audience. Karan took the time to express her disappointment.
"Those lasted no longer than last year's," she scoffed.
"Tōran, that creep that was following us earlier is back," Shuran said, annoyed.
"Where?"
Shuran pointed, and Sesshōmaru took the chance to glance over for himself. It was another man donning dark colors, this time dressed in the more unnoticeable of a commoner. Still, he managed to stand out from the rest of the crowd, especially with how often he would glance up to look at their balcony.
Sesshōmaru's eyes narrowed.
"It's most likely some common thief," Toran explained to him. "I'll have the city guards deal with him once we leave."
"How intriguing. A similar man has been following us around the entire night as well," Sesshōmaru said.
Tōran's brows raised. "You believe it to be some sort of organized operation?"
"Yes, but not for something as simple as robbery," Sesshōmaru responded cryptically. "Perhaps you should return to your castle."
Toran released a lighthearted scoff. "Seriously?"
Sesshōmaru looked as serious as always. Tōran sighed.
"Karan. Shuran. Send someone to fetch Shunran. We're going back to Shitennō."
Karan and Shuran made predictable exclamations of displeasure. Sesshōmaru looked towards Rin, whose big brown eyes were still fixed on the dancer below.
"Rin," he called gently. "Let's go."
Rin sighed and turned away from the balcony.
"Alright. Do you think we could—"
"We're returning to the inn."
"The inn? But it's only—"
"Third watch. Nearly midnight."
She didn't recall hearing the bells ring for the ninth hour. They had been out a long time. She sighed but stood from her seat.
The streets were crowded when they exited the front doors of the restaurant, though slightly less so than earlier. Around them, people leisurely continued to and fro down the street, only to be captivated by the beautiful dancer that Rin had been forced to miss. Here and there, the occasional drunken festival goer stumbled on by, assisted by servants or close friends. The city refused to sleep.
Rin felt something warm grasp at her fingers and glanced down to find Sesshōmaru's hand grasping her own.
"Stay close to me," he said deeply.
Taken aback by the sudden gesture, Rin could do no more than nod. Quietly, Sesshōmaru led Rin through the crowd and in the direction of the inn.
*: I don't usually like to use random Japanese terminology for things that aren't food, specific garments, or architectural elements, but it felt so anachronistic to just write "chopsticks" for some reason. So yeah, if you did not know, that's what hashi are.
a/n: Booooo four week gap instead of the two I typically aim for. The past month has been pretty hectic for me, aaaaaannddd then I got writer's block.
Just saw the preview for Yashahime season 2 and I am very ashamed to say I still haven't seen the first season in its entirety. I need to catch up quick!
As always, thanks for stick through this story through 22 long chapters and over 100,000 words! I don't know if I should be proud or horrified that this is novel length.
Until next time!