DISCLAIMER: I do not own this series!

SONG OF THE WEST

an Inuyasha fanfic

xxv.

There were one-hundred cherry blossom petals on the fusuma.

Each had been painted with soft brush strokes, surging forth from the flowing dark brown lines of the skillfully rendered tree trunk and branches in a burst of pink against golden-yellow paneling. Black and blue minivets dashed between the pink and the brown, suspended in perpetual play.

Rin knew there were precisely one-hundred cherry blossom petals in the picture because she had counted each of them, for want of anything better to do. Before that, she had counted the boards of wood in the ceiling, which totaled thirty. There was also a short shelf in the corner of her forced, temporary dwelling with about twenty books, none of which she could read, even if she wanted to.

It was the middle of the afternoon now, only a few hours since she had spoken to Lord Tōga about her new arrangements. He, along with Seiten and Sesshōmaru, had slept soundly since, leaving her by herself to just barely stave off boredom. She had gotten enough sleep earlier, but even if she had not, the panic rising in her chest would have kept her awake.

Rin sighed as she shifted from her side to lie on her back on the tatami mat. She wasn't unreasonable—she was aware Lord Tōga was simply looking out for her welfare by forbidding her to travel with them further. Still, everything felt so… sudden.

She hadn't even been able to tell Lord Tōga about the festival, and the figurine she had seen of him or the golden whistle Sesshōmaru had won for her.

Absentmindedly, Rin put the whistle in her mouth but stopped short of blowing it. She peeked at the fusuma again. Lord Sesshōmaru was on the other side of it, still sleeping. She did not want to wake him accidentally.

No more pink cherry blossoms would appear on the fusuma; the books would all remain in their proper place. It'd be best to take a stroll through the corridors to familiarize herself with her new surroundings, Rin thought.

The hallways were long and plain, and the floorboards seemed to chirp no matter how softly she attempted to tread. There was plenty of sunshine in the hallway on account of the shoji, at least, causing Rin to wonder how pretty it might be illuminated in the moonlight.

Around the corner, the floorboard chirped steadily. Someone was walking towards her.

"Hello?" Rin called out cautiously.

The chirping sound paused for a moment and then grew quicker. When the stranger finally revealed themselves, Rin blinked in surprise.

"Shizu?"

Shizu looked the same as when Rin last saw her a few weeks prior: long black hair, dark brown eyes, tan skin, and a serious expression on her face. She was wearing the plain black kosode and purple koshihimo of the other servants at Shiraoi and carrying a tea tray in her hands.

The older woman looked just as surprised to see Rin standing in front of her.

"I knew the Inu no Taisho was here, but I didn't realize you were still traveling with them after what happened," Shizu said, her dark eyes straying to the center of Rin's face. "Your nose is better!"

Rin beamed. "So is my ankle. But what are you doing here? What about the village?"

"Oh, the village is fine," Shizu said, leaning languidly against the wooden post next to her. "Ino and Chiyo are still lively. That boy Yosomi liked returned from his post thanks to the Inu no Taisho taking care of the nearby tribesmen, so he and Yosomi have married. Not that it matters now."

Rin frowned. She could recall how excited Yosomi had been for her love to return, and now he would have to leave once more for a reason beyond his control.

Shizu continued. "Anyway, after you all left the village, the Northern tribesmen basically disappeared overnight. Lord Tsukuyomaru gave out aid to the villagers for the next week, and when it was time for him to leave, he offered servant positions here to anyone willing to work them."

Rin smiled at this. With Shizu here, she wouldn't be alone like she thought.

"I thought you said you didn't trust lords very much?"

"I still don't," Shizu said, rolling her eyes. "But a job is a job. There's not much left for me in my old village, and I figured it might be nice to send back some money to Chiyo, with Cho growing how he is."

Shizu hesitated for a moment and glanced at her surroundings, ensuring no one else was nearby to hear their conversation.

"Not that I don't think about going back sometimes," the older woman added lowly. "Some people here give me the creeps."

Rin's brow rose. "What's wrong with them?"

Shizu sighed. "Where should I begin? First, that old man is weird. He's picky and cruel to almost every servant who is unlucky enough to deliver things to his rooms. All he does is lie in bed all day, using illness as an excuse. But whenever it comes time to undermine whatever Lord Tsukuyomaru is trying to implement in court, he's suddenly as healthy and readily available as a man half his age."

Rin tilted her head. "They don't get along? But they're father and son."

"Barely. It's amazing that Lord Tsukuyomaru is even related to that old man at all. The only reason he hasn't confronted his father yet is because he wants to filial piety—not that he should, since that old man doesn't do anything to deserve it."

Rin knew Lord Tōga and Sesshōmaru had their occasional disagreements, but they had always put an end to their squabbles—at least as far as she knew. She felt it tragic that Lord Tsukuyomaru and his father could not see eye to eye.

"But the worst part is how everyone here has pettily joined in on the drama. The court has taken their sides—which is to be expected, I guess." Shizu rolled her eyes as she uttered those last few words. "But even the servants are divided, as if we're valued for our opinions and not our work. Every day some chore is going wrong because the older servants feel as if they are too good to interact with the villagers Lord Tsukuyomaru brought back with him. If I hear one more person refer to us as a country-anything, I think I'll lose my job."

Rin's brows furrowed. "Do you think Lord Tsukuyomaru and his father will at least try to get along now that the war is here? Lord Tōga needs them."

"I thought they would, but who knows. The Inu no Taisho is here—the Inu no Taisho, of all people—and that old man is still in his bed. Sick or not, don't you think that's weird?"

Shizu was right; the Inu no Taisho wasn't some common city lord, and his presence wasn't something to take casually, especially during a war. When the Asano courtiers had heard the Western Lord was in their city, they had gathered and met him at the gate of their castle despite not being informed of his visit in advance.

"Anyway, Lord Tsukuyomaru sent me to deliver this tea, in case the Inu no Taisho and his son are awake," Shizu said, gesturing to the tray in her hand. "There's some loquat, too. Trade will be bad because of the war, so it might be the last for a while."

Rin pursed her lips at this news but accepted the fruit and tea tray. The loquats were another one of her recent war losses. "Thank you, Shizu."

"If you need me, just ask around, alright?" Shizu said. "This place is weird. I'll have to look after you while you're here."

Rin nodded, and Shizu went back from whence she came, the floor chirping after her.

When Rin entered her room again, the cherry blossom fusuma was open. Sesshōmaru was standing in the corner of her room, inspecting the twenty books on the shelf she had counted earlier.

Her heart skipped a beat. "You're awake!"

"You two speak loudly," Sesshōmaru said coolly, his attention still on the books before him.

He was always so cool—a quality that would serve him well on a battlefield. Rin's heart ached.

"Shizu brought some tea and fruit," Rin pointed out, distracting herself from her emotions.

Sesshōmaru said nothing and glided back through the open fusuma to sit on the low table in his room. Rin followed, tray still in hand, and sat across from him.

"Lord Sesshōmaru," Rin started, picking a plump loquat to eat. "How long do wars typically last?"

She took a bite. Sesshōmaru watched the loquat juice trickle from her lips.

"It depends on the circumstances," Sesshōmaru replied, still gazing at her mouth.

That was a vague answer.

"How long do you think this one will be?" Rin asked.

"Six months, at the minimum."

Rin almost dropped her loquat. "I'll have to stay here for half a year?"

"… Stay?" Sesshōmaru repeated, his brows furrowing.

"Lord Tōga said that when you two leave for the capital, I'm staying here," Rin said. "He didn't tell you?"

Lord Tōga had told his son no such thing—whether this omission was purposeful, Sesshōmaru did not know. Either way, it was irritating.

"You'd rather come along," Sesshōmaru correctly deduced from the hint of sadness in her voice. "Why?"

Rin didn't know why. She wasn't the type to rush headfirst into danger—not without good reason, at least.

Maybe she didn't want them to leave her behind. Maybe traveling with them was the only positive constancy she had had in her life in a very long time, despite the danger it had put her in.

She didn't want to lose that, or them, so soon.

Rin didn't know how to express this with words, so she went with a simpler answer.

"I enjoy traveling with you all," Rin murmured, rolling the loquat seed around with her fingers. "It feels like home to me."

Sesshōmaru frowned at the sorrow in Rin's body language.

It would be impossible for Rin to come to the war camp. With her petite stature and lack of formal weapons training, she would be more of a distraction than an asset during battle. Women did sometimes take part in defense of the home—his mother and Tōran were examples—but they were trained in strategy and naginatajutsu on account of them being the daughters and/or wives of powerful officials, and they rarely ever saw bloodshed. The women of Seiten's clan sometimes fought on battlefields and knew far more ways of war, but they were a rare case.

As for non-combat roles, there was the courier or the medic. But a courier's duties were as dangerous and important as the combat roles. And having a young woman around injured, demoralized men was a foolish idea altogether.

It was safer for her to remain at Shiraoi. However, if Lord Taigokumaru turned out to be a nuisance, as Rin's friend had stated…

Sesshōmaru reached across the low table for the wrist of the hand that wasn't holding the loquat. Surprised, Rin's gaze met his.

"Don't wander around the castle alone," Sesshōmaru said. His golden eyes were softer than usual.

It was an odd departure from the topic at hand. He seemed so serious that Rin nodded in agreement, despite how confused she was.

"I won't."

The fusuma on the other side of the room opened to reveal Seiten. He started to speak but stopped short once he saw the two young people sitting at the table.

His brow rose. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No." Sesshōmaru released Rin's wrist and stood.

"Imperial Lord Tokudaiji and the others have convened in the study to discuss operation and contingency plans," Seiten said. "He's waiting until you're in attendance to start."

Sesshōmaru swiftly exited the room; Seiten followed behind him. Rin was left there in his room, her wrist still warm from his touch.

The meeting lasted well into the night.

The noblemen—and Imperial Lady Katsushika—gathered again in the study they were in earlier that day, this time around a large tactical map instead of a slew of letters. Small figurines signifying soldiers or formations had been retrieved from the innermost reaches of Shiraoi's storage and placed to the side of the table, still coated in dust.

With them were a few of Tsukuyomaru's trusted courtiers, along with some of Lord Taigokumaru's, who were there to represent their "ill" Lord. There was no attempt to hide the division described by Shizu in the court: though Lord Tsukuyomaru maintained his poise, the courtiers seemed to tense at each other's presence.

This went unnoticed by his father and Seiten, who were too busy preparing for an impending war to worry about a squabble between a father and son. Sesshōmaru, however, was willing to sit in the shadows and see how these interactions.

The letters to varying Western and Northern vassals had only been sent out within the past day. With the West so distant and half of the Northern lords dead, missing, or aligned with the East owing to the late Lord Katsushika's negligence, there was no guaranteed timeframe for when they would receive a reply. According to the outriders, Imperial Lord Ryukotsusei was already moving most of his troops toward the capital, while the rest remained at Hyōkusui to hold the castle. As of now, Lord Tokudaiji's options were to wait for reinforcements from the North and West to arrive and possibly lose the capital or use the manpower readily available to him from Shiraoi and its surrounding villages.

Everyone present knew infantrymen would not be hard to find. There were always plenty of men between the ages of sixteen and thirty-five who could be conscripted and trained for war within a moment's notice. There were also enough courtiers' sons of similar ages to serve as calvary. What would be more difficult to find were boys between thirteen and fifteen who were skilled enough in navigating a horse over various terrains to serve as couriers, as well as qualified men to serve as medics.

In addition, they would have to feed all these men. Soldiers could rely on army provisions brought from their homes, but that would only last for the first few days. Shiraoi was the third-largest exporter of food within the North—the first was the lost Hyōkusui, while the second was Itō, the seat of the Higurashis, from whom they had to wait for a response. Then there was the matter of figuring out how to ration food in a way that would not cause a famine in Shiraoi and all nearby cities that depended on it for sustenance.

The above logistical problems were addressed with little fuss. Additional messengers would be sent out with two decrees from the Western Imperial Lord and the Northern Imperial Lady calling for immediate conscription; both noble and country doctors would have to be relied upon for medical services; they'd scour for as many potential couriers as possible; rations would be implemented; and the half the troops would head North with Imperial Lord Tokudaiji and Sesshōmaru while Lord Tsukuyomaru prevented an attack on the rear from Hyōkusui. All simple decisions to verbalize, but nerve-wracking to implement.

Taigokumaru's representative courtiers said little about these decisions, but did feign stupidity through their choice of questions: When would the troops be leaving? Which Northern lords received letters? Which route would they take to the capital?

These questions only grew more frequent and more insistent as the noblemen continued to brush them off. Then Sesshōmaru spoke up.

"With all of these questions, we'll never conclude the meeting," the young Lord said caustically.

It was rude, but not out of line with his pre-established political reputation; thus, no one noticed anything out of the ordinary.

Or, at least, he thought so. At night, when their meeting adjourned, and he had returned to his room, his father let himself in with a furrowed brow and a suspicious gaze.

"You spoke little at the meeting," Lord Tokudaiji said. "What is it you're planning now?"

"Taigokumaru still has not bothered to speak to us directly," Sesshōmaru replied cryptically.

"You are mad at an old, sick man for being old and sick?"

"Taigokumaru is ill—if that—not deceased," Sesshōmaru said. "He should have sent representatives to pay their obeisance to you earlier."

Tōga's brow rose, amused. "Was his son's presence not representative enough?"

"Taigokumaru and Tsukuyomaru do not have a functional relationship. Tsukuyomaru omitted this detail, but the courtiers and servants all know this. Tsukuyomaru is a representative of himself, not his father."

"Alright. If their relationship is fraught, how is that detail relevant?"

"Those two courtiers could not have come at Tsukuyomaru's behest, considering the tension between them and the men Tsukuyomaru brought along. Taigokumaru must've asked them to attend and glean as much information about the operational plans as possible."

Sesshōmaru continued. "Taigokumaru failed to send representatives to greet you or Tōran—an affront to any nobility who care for such formalities—yet he found the strength to send two courtiers to the meeting instead of relying on his son. He also has made no move to get on your good side, despite his apparent power struggle with Tsukuyomaru. Either he is an old fool or—"

"Or he has found a good reason not to speak with me. He's compromised." Tōga's eyes narrowed in understanding. "It seems we may have another Asano castle situation on our hands. Why didn't you say anything prior to the meeting?"

"I did not know the extent of Tsukuyomaru and Taigokumaru's relationship prior to the meeting," Sesshōmaru admitted.

While he had felt there was something off about Taigokumaru's lack of effort, he had suspected nothing amiss until he had overheard Rin and Shizu's conversation around midday.

Exhausted, Lord Toga ran his hand through his hair. It was one thing after another these days.

"There's not much time to deal with this, clearly," Tōga said. "I'll let you take care of this, then. Don't be too unrestrained in your approach—we still need the other courtiers to give us their men."

Sesshōmaru turned to face his father, who was looking back at him with very serious eyes.

This was a test; a preview of what strategies Lord Tokudaiji could expect from his son now that they were at war and not in a study discussing political and martial theory over books and board games. No one could afford for him to fail.

Not that he had ever failed before.

"Call for Seiten, Tōran, and Tsukuyomaru," Sesshōmaru said. "We need to have another meeting."

a/n: This chapter was pretty exposition heavy but I'm trying to get to the meat of things honestly! I'm estimating that we're 1/3 through the plot of this story so far, so bear with me a little.

Also happy to say that I didn't leave you all hanging to long (I think). Between now and the next chapter, expect sporadic updates on the progress of this story over on my Twitter ( orphelly).

Until next time!