a/n: TW for those of you with emetophobia.

SONG OF THE WEST

an Inuyasha fanfic

xxxi.

Inspector Jaken found the courier Rin quite strange.

First was the matter of Rin and the young Lord's apparent closeness. Despite his best efforts, Jaken could not comprehend it. He wasn't entirely sure Lord Sesshōmaru had warmed to him yet, and he had been around since the young Lord's adolescence. It would have taken a miracle for Sesshōmaru to tolerate some frail, vagabond boy like Rin, and it certainly would have taken longer than the few weeks the troops had been stationed there prior to Jaken's arrival. Yet, Lord Sesshōmaru was kind to the boy in a way Jaken had never seen him be kind to anyone else.

Also, the boy looked weird. Even with the extra padding and protection the standard courier uniform provided, he seemed much smaller than the other couriers, and overall much more delicate in build, as if he were a hollow-boned bird. Jaken might've dismissed this as a byproduct of Rin's young age—which Jaken never bothered to inquire about—if not for the boy's voice as well. Yes, boys often had high-pitched voices, which deepened only as they grew into pubescence. But Rin's voice was high-pitched in a different way. An almost finalized way, in fact.

So Jaken decided Rin was a kitsune. There was no other viable explanation.

And then there was.

Against his better judgment, Jaken had considered seriously the words of the camp follower he had driven away the day prior. The other courier had said it best: whores, especially low-class ones such as those, were only ever out for their own interests; however, the sudden conjecture had placed some things, like Rin's delicate appearance or soft voice, into a new context.

But why would a woman be in the camp? And, if Rin was indeed a woman, why would she dare stay right under the general's nose?

Jaken's eyes narrowed as he considered it. Perhaps it was some duplicitous stratagem. But that, too, felt wrong. Lord Sesshōmaru was far too intelligent to fall for some sly subterfuge such as that. Plus, if Rin was changing in the tent each day and going hunting with Lord Sesshōmaru each weekend, then the young Lord must have had some suspicions about Rin's identity—

Jaken bolted from the wooden stool he was sitting on in shock.

"Inspector?" someone exclaimed.

"Huh?" Jaken exclaimed nervously, as if caught.

It was only Nobuo, the camp medic. Jaken then recalled that he was supposed to be taking a daily inventory of the medical supplies instead of mulling over Rin's identity.

"Are you well?" Nobuo asked. "You appear as if you've seen a ghost."

Jaken sighed and sat again. "I'm fine."

Nobuo, one brow raised, retreated into the tent.

No, no, no! Jaken thought to himself. That would be unthinkable.

The thought of Lord Sesshōmaru knowing of Rin's womanhood raised more questions than it answered. If Rin was a woman, she was not trained in warfare as the ladies of the Yanagisawa clan were. As far as physical strength, she was the weakest in the camp. There was nothing special about her that made her stand out amongst the other soldiers in terms of strengths or talents that made her worthwhile to keep around.

Yet Lord Sesshōmaru allowed her to stay, despite her weaknesses. After seeing the way Sesshōmaru doted on Rin, it was no wonder he had not removed her from the camp yet. One could even mistake Sesshōmaru's attentions as something as detrimental as love.

Jaken huffed. No—young Lord Sesshōmaru would never debase himself and lie with some mysterious common girl, especially not during a war. It was utterly out of his titled and reputable character!

Even so, Jaken would have to do something about Rin. Whoever that courier was, they were bad luck. Jaken owed Sesshōmaru his life—the least he could do was not allow him to be led astray.

Jaken entered the medic's tent. Nobuo was digging through wooden chests with his back towards the entrance.

"Where's Rin?" Jaken squawked.

Nobuo spared him a sidelong glance. "He's running errands with Maki, I'm rather sure."

Jaken let out a pleased sound. He would have no obstacles, then.

The young Lord was in his tent, sitting at his writing desk. He didn't look up when Jaken entered.

"Young Lord Tokudaiji!" Jaken cried out, falling to the ground and bowing so that his forehead touched the hard earth.

"Jaken," Sesshōmaru replied, unaffected by Jaken's histrionics. "What is it?"

Jaken raised his face to look at his lord. Sesshōmaru was glancing through one of the many books Lord Bokusenō had delivered, his expression as empty as his tone of voice. His long, silvery hair was unbound, but Jaken was beginning to recall the neat braids Sesshōmaru had sported until the day prior.

The old man swallowed. It was difficult to guess just how Lord Sesshōmaru would react to his words. As an adolescent, Sesshōmaru was known for his deathly accurate throw. Young adulthood had brought him a slightly less bratty demeanor; and since the only thing near his hands were soft-covered books and loose parchment, Jaken thought he might stand a chance if anything went awry.

"It's about the courier Rin, Milord," Jaken said.

"Rin?" Sesshōmaru beckoned for Jaken to elaborate.

Jaken gulped. "I think it may be wise for Rin to submit to a physical assessment."

Sesshōmaru slammed his book shut and glanced at the inspector. His golden eyes seemed harder now.

Assessments were rare, but permissible when there were outbreaks like lice or plague or when someone was hiding an injury. But Rin was not hurt, nor had he heard of any lice or illnesses in the camp.

"Why is that?" Sesshōmaru asked calmly.

Too calm. Jaken paused.

"Jaken," Sesshōmaru repeated.

Placing his forehead against the earth once more, Jaken said: "I have reason to believe Rin is a young woman, milord!"

The tent fell silent. Jaken kept his eyes focused on the ground.

Sesshōmaru set down his book. It hit the wooden desk with a loud thud.

He weighed the favorable and unfavorable factors in his head. Even though Jaken had his (correct) suspicions, he would tell nobody—no, despite his dramatics, he was much too intelligent to do something as nonsensical as that.

But Jaken had also been harassing and haranguing Rin since his arrival. As much as Rin insisted she did not desire Sesshōmaru's help, the young Lord was tired of hearing about Jaken's antics.

"Rin is a woman," Sesshōmaru announced coolly.

Jaken looked up, his green eyes wide with shock. "Milord—"

"Tell no one of this," Sesshōmaru said, "and leave Rin be."

"But—"

"But what, Jaken?"

"What about the propriety of this, milord?" Jaken squawked.

Propriety. Sesshōmaru scowled. "She is a good courier. No need to talk of propriety."

Jaken hesitated. So the young Lord truly had known Rin was a woman the entire time! But why—?

"Is there anything else, Jaken?" Sesshōmaru asked, interrupting Jaken's thoughts. He was glancing at his book, which he had opened again.

Truth be told, this whole affair shocked Jaken, and he had plenty more questions to ask. But many of the things Sesshōmaru did were inexplicable; this was no different.

Jaken bowed again and stood. "Nothing more, milord."

Sesshōmaru's silence dismissed him. With a frown, Jaken left the general's tent with a much more muddled mind than when he had entered.

The woods were brilliant and beautiful as Rin and her fellow courier Maki rode through with messages from other camps in their possession. The verdancy of the tree line had transformed into golds and oranges. Fallen leaves coated the forest floor now, crunching beneath the heavy hooves of the horses.

Maki was a quiet sort. He said little whenever she was paired with him, only offering a few cordial hums or nods if she tried to make conversation. This was fine, Rin supposed. Not everyone was as talkative as she was.

She did not feel like talking much anyway. The silence gave her time to think over a few things that had been rattling about in her brain—namely that she had fallen asleep in Lord Sesshōmaru's arms the night before. No one had held her since—well, never. It felt nice, albeit strange, and a bit embarrassing.

I hope I didn't bother him too much, Rin thought. He had been in the middle of something when she entered the tent. If Sesshōmaru was annoyed, however, he did not show it.

Rin let out a small giggle. She and Sesshōmaru hadn't been so close the last time she'd seen Lord Tōga; she wondered how he would react to their newfound friendship. Of course, he would be outraged if he ever discovered her true whereabouts—hopefully, he never would. Apart from that, perhaps he would delight in their camaraderie since they had spent so long with such friction between them.

But that was for her to discover after the war. Though they would be stationed outside the capital for the foreseeable future, there would be an after to this war, she presumed, in the Western lands with Sesshōmaru and Tōga and her brother and whatever else that entailed. She wondered if things would be the same between them in the future and frowned. When that time came, she would perhaps never be able to interact with Lord Sesshōmaru in the same capacity as she did now.

I'll cherish the present, then.

This task would be simpler now that her chief adversary—Jaken, of course—had given up his campaign against her. The sly remarks and the annoyed looks stopped altogether when she returned to camp from another trip earlier that afternoon. The awkward silence remained, but it was replaced with a solemn non-combativeness rather than suspicion.

"Deliver this to the Takeda camp," Jaken had said, his voice for once an even cadence rather than an annoyed shriek. She had been surprised he was even speaking with her after the small skirmish they had the previous evening regarding the camp followers.

She couldn't guess what had made Jaken's heart change. Her first thought was Sesshōmaru, and she could only hope that he had said nothing to Jaken, as she had requested.

Upon arriving at the Takeda camp, the two couriers had been sent to Naozane camp, and then that of the Crown Prince. Though the Crown Prince's camp was nearest to Sesshōmaru's, Rin and the other couriers never delivered messages there often. Sesshōmaru did not message the Crown Prince. In fact, Sesshōmaru seemed to have a deep disdain for the Crown Prince. Rin would've found his dislike for his cousin strange if not for the fact that Sesshōmaru had a deep disdain for most people who were not her or his father.

The camp was of average size but had an element of grandeur that the other camps had gone without. Soldiers had already set up standing torches, casting the area with a red glow that matched the fallen leaves. The high tent of the Crown Prince's camp was in view now, emblazoned with the gold Chrysanthemum sigil of the royal family.

Maki, who was ahead of her, stopped his horse. Coming out of her own head, Rin glanced towards him.

"What is—?"

The sight that had emerged before her now was enough to answer the unfinished question. As they grew nearer to the Crown Prince's sonae, out of the copse of trees grew stranger flora, settled a few meters apart along the perimeter of jinmaku. Various heads topped the camp's wood palisades, their expressions dull and frozen. A stream of half-dry blood trickled from the necks to down the length of the posts.

Rin screamed and turned away. Maki had since dismounted and was heaving up his lunch in the grass.

"You two have a delivery, I suppose?" Rin heard someone say before her.

She did not look. "We do!" she strained to say, though she felt as if she'd been drowned out by the sound of Maki's retching nearby.

"Thank you," the man said, his tone flat. "I'll deliver it to the Crown Prince."

Maki, still retching, was of no help. With a flustered sigh, Rin reached into Maki's saddlebag to retrieve the parchment meant for the Crown Prince. She would just have to keep her eyes on the ground and follow the sound of the man's voice.

Against her better judgment, she glanced up. The heads were mostly male, all recognizable, but most likely that of soldiers.

A single head towards the middle stuck out the most. The brown hair had been lopsidedly shorn short from where the executor's blade had severed the neck, but the face was still familiar…

Rin knew that face. It was the face of the woman she had seen the evening prior, the camp follower who had guessed that Rin was a woman before Jaken chased her away.

Rin gagged but stomached her nausea. Jaken had been right—the woman had gone off to another camp to complete her task. But instead of finding money, she had been met with whatever cruel fate this was.

Rin's eyes moved back to the man. He was frowning, but from the perturbed hollowness in his eyes, Rin knew he was dissatisfied with the heads outside his camp rather than their reactions.

Eyes squeezed shut, Rin moved forward and placed the parchment into the man's open palm. She did not turn around and open her eyes until the sound of leaves crunching beneath the man's boots grew quieter and quieter.

Maki was sitting in the leaves now with his head between his knees. Despite her own rumbling stomach and aching heart, she walked over to him.

"Maki," she breathed. "Let's leave."

Another wave of sickness spilled from Maki when he opened his mouth to speak. Rin cringed. Between his smell and sickly sweetness of the decollated heads, she was beginning to falter.

"Let's go, Maki," Rin said, a bit more forceful.

Maki nodded and stood. She helped him onto his horse, and soon they were off through the forest again. Not that they enjoyed the scenery this time around. And the voyage took much longer—every few steps, Maki would vomit again, so that the trip took double the time.

Lord Sesshōmaru and Jaken were in the tent when she returned. For once, Jaken did not yell at her for entering announced—something she might have thought was odd if she were not still focused on the horror she had witnessed at the Crown Prince's camp.

She crossed the tent and plopped onto her futon without a single word for either of the men, hoping they would be too engrossed in their current task to notice.

This did not work. Sesshōmaru's sharp golden eyes fixed on her as soon as she entered.

"Rin?" he called out.

Rin gave him a small smile, ignoring the uncomfortable, tight feeling growing in her chest. "Yes, my Lord?"

Her smile did not reach her eyes. Sesshōmaru's brows furrowed. "What's wrong?"

Jaken was staring at her now, too, with that wary look he had since adopted whenever she was present.

"I'm fine, my Lord!" Rin insisted, lying back on her futon so that her gaze was focused on the tent's sloping ceiling. Her chest hurt. Her hands felt slick. "I'm just tired, that's all."

Sesshōmaru said nothing. Then, "You may leave, Jaken."

Jaken, for once, did not grumble.

Rin released a shuddering sigh of relief and closed her eyes. Out of the darkness emerged that woman's severed head, with dull eyes and fresh blood emerging from the neck…

Rin lurched into a seated position and choked. Jaken blinked at her. Sesshōmaru moved to stand.

Rin tried to speak, to yell out for help, but instead of words, the contents of her stomach spilled out of her mouth and onto her futon.

Sesshōmaru was in love with Rin. He could no longer deny this.

He had never thought much about love before. Most nobility married for convenience, and his parents had only become espoused because of an imperial order, though they got along well nowadays.

The idea of love—true, romantic love, or whatever that entailed—had not existed in his mind. At least, not until he had met Rin.

He could not pinpoint when his romantic interest in her began. It could've been in the woods that day, when she had called him her friend, or when she had told him she felt safe near him back at Shiraoi. But he had thought her beautiful before then. Perhaps this slow transition into love began at that doomed festival when he had stolen a glimpse of her smile beneath the opaque fabric of the uchikatsugi.

In any case, at some point, Sesshōmaru had decided her smile was something worth preserving, and that he was best suited to defend it.

It was an odd series of thoughts to have come to his mind immediately after his prospective lover vomited all over the place. But if he had not loved her, he would have been loath to deal with the mess.

Jaken let out a loud sound of disgust when it happened. The old man did not do so well with bodily fluids. The sound of his disgusted gags competed with Rin's more pressing dry heaves.

Sesshōmaru's arms encircled her midsection from behind and pulled her away from the mess that was now her futon.

Rin trembled in his arms. Her eyes were wide and wet with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, Lord Sesshōmaru!" she cried. "I—"

She belched, and her hand flew over her mouth again. Jaken screamed out in terror.

"Jaken," Sesshōmaru said roughly. "Get the medic."

That was of no issue. Disgusted by all he had witnessed, Jaken flew off without even a bow.

The detritus had spattered onto Rin's clothing. Sesshōmaru's hand moved to tug on the knot of her kobakama.

"L-lord Sesshōmaru!" Rin sputtered as she wriggled against him.

"Yes?"

"I can change myself!"

Sesshōmaru paused. "Can you stand?" he asked.

Rin nodded and scooted out of her arms to prove herself. His hand lingered on the small of her back as he stood, only moving when both her feet were firmly planted on the ground.

The faithful inspector returned soon enough with the medic in tow. The faithful inspector returned soon enough with the medic in tow. Nobuo did a few standard tests—Rin was slightly warm, and her pulse rather fast, but neither were severe enough to cause any real worry—and offered her some ginger tea he had prepared for another courier with a similar stomach problem before being dismissed.

Rin disappeared behind the kichō as soon as he left. He could hear the gentle splashing of water as she washed her face.

Jaken bore a grim look on his face. "Maki is ill, too. According to him, it seems as if the Crown Prince has taken a few heads as trophies, milord."

The Crown Prince had never been an intelligent person. In Sesshōmaru's eyes, his Imperial Highness was a complete failure at most things he put his mind to—swordsmanship, horseback riding, and any other skill necessary to be a decent leader. But to keep decapitated heads lying around his camp when Great Lord Tokudaiji had banned headhunting was a deranged decision.

And, to make matters worse, Rin had seen them. No wonder she had been so disgusted.

Sesshōmaru scowled and moved to his writing desk. The letter he wrote to his father was brief and simple.

"Fetch a courier to deliver this," Sesshōmaru instructed, holding out the letter for Jaken to take. Then, glancing at Rin's futon: "Take that with you."

With a slight frown, Jaken accepted the piece of parchment and grabbed a clean part of the futon.

Rin emerged from behind the kichō, donning her night garments. She glanced at the spot that once belonged to her futon.

"Sleep in my bed tonight," Sesshōmaru said.

Rin's eyes widened. "Where are you sleeping?"

Sesshōmaru blinked at her as if the answer were the most obvious thing on the ground.

Rin frowned. She felt miserable about getting sick, but knowing Sesshōmaru would have nowhere to sleep for the night made her feel even more wretched.

"You can't sleep on the ground," she said, pouting.

"We won't fit together," Sesshōmaru said.

He was right. Though it was larger than hers owing to Sesshōmaru's larger size, the futon wasn't enough for them both. Plus, Sesshōmaru was wiser than to tempt himself with such proximity.

To Rin, the idea of sleeping in the same bed as Sesshōmaru felt sort of odd. Like moving past a barrier that, once breached, could not be fixed again.

"I can put the blanket between us," Rin offered.

"I'm not tired," Sesshōmaru said simply.

Rin gave him a wry smile and tried not to think of the camp follower's detached head. "I'm not tired, either."

Sesshōmaru glanced at her. Her cheeks were still flushed, and he could make out the faint traces of tear lines, perhaps from when she was behind the folding screen. He frowned and closed the space between them.

They sank onto Sesshōmaru's futon in tandem. Rin swaddled herself in blankets and laid her head on Sesshōmaru's shoulder, and the two young people sat together much in the same manner they did the night prior.

"What's going to happen to the heads?" Rin asked after a long moment of silence.

"They'll be burned," Sesshōmaru replied candidly.

Rin quieted again. He couldn't see her face; he wondered if she was beginning to regret coming.

Sesshōmaru loved Rin. But he could not tell her this. At least not yet. It felt too early, and he did not want her to feel beholden to him.

Rin eventually fell asleep, her head on Sesshōmaru's shoulder. And, despite telling himself that he would not, Sesshōmaru fell asleep, too, and slept quite soundly, until he heard Jaken squawking outside of the tent and the annoyed whinny of a horse.

"Imperial Lord Tokudaiji!" Jaken exclaimed. "You're here early!"

Sesshōmaru's eyes opened, and then narrowed. His father would choose the most inconvenient time to visit.

Sesshōmaru moved to stand. Rin stirred and glanced at him with a drowsy expression. Her eyes widened when he scooped her, blanket and all, into his arms.

"Lord Sesshōmaru—?"

"No need for idle chat, Jaken," Tōga's voice drifted from outside. "Is Sesshōmaru awake?"

Rin froze. The look in her eyes changed from one of sleepy confusion to fear.

Outside, Jaken paused. "I'm not sure, your Grace."

Sesshōmaru gripped Rin tighter and in a few quick steps crossed from one side of the tent to the other. He set her down gently behind the kichō. Their eyes met again.

Tōga sighed. "Thank you, Jaken. No need to see me inside."

Sesshōmaru pulled himself away from Rin and adjusted the screen so that she would not be seen.

Tōga entered the tent mere seconds afterward. He was without his armor, wearing only a shitagi, hakama, his shin and arm guards, and a cloak to protect him from the chilly night gusts. He seemed surprised to see Sesshōmaru alert and standing.

"Good," Tōga said. "You're awake."

"You read my letter, then," Sesshōmaru said.

Tōga huffed and helped himself to a seat at Sesshōmaru's writing desk. "I went to the Crown Prince's sonae as soon as I received it. We had quite the row, too, since he insisted those people were spies. All his men were too swayed by his status to say anything, and the metsuke assigned to him was from the palace."

No noise came from behind the kichō. Sesshōmaru wondered what Rin was doing now.

"Were they spies?" Sesshōmaru asked.

"One or two of them, yes," Tōga sighed. "The others were most likely civilians or camp followers. Certainly not deserving of that."

A weighty silence filled the tent. The Western Lord glanced around.

"We haven't seen each other in weeks," Lord Tōga said. "How have you been?"

"Fine," Sesshōmaru responded.

Tōga could see this was the truth. Despite waking up before sunrise, his son was still as sharp as ever and seemed somehow more forbearing than when the war had begun. Because he was still ignorant of Sesshōmaru's delicate condition—that being that he was in love and had the secret pleasure of having the one he loved so close by—Tōga ascribed Sesshōmaru's liveliness to the vigor of young manhood. In himself, Tōga missed that vigor dearly.

Tōga let out a long sigh. "That's excellent. I, on the other hand, am rather tired. Let's go hunting tomorrow—or later today, I suppose."

Sesshōmaru's brows rose. "Perhaps you should rest."

"No, no," Tōga said, dismissing this notion. "We'll be deep in autumn soon, and all the animals will be gone. We should get one last hunt before winter."

Tōga took one more glance around the room and stood. Then, suddenly, "I hadn't realized Jaken was your metsuke."

"You did not oversee the assignments?"

"I let Seiten handle that," Tōga said. "Jaken is more loyal to you than he is to me. You two aren't hiding anything, are you?"

It was a jest. Sesshōmaru rolled his eyes. "There are no heads decorating my camp, as you can see."

Tōga chuckled. "Yes, I see that. Anyway, Jaken need not send a comprehensive final report since I came. Basic inventory will suffice."

The Imperial Lord of the West dismissed himself soon after, as the sun was peeking over the horizon and cast the sky blue and orange. It was only after Sesshōmaru had watched his father ride off into the distance that he turned towards the tent to retrieve Rin again. To his surprise, she was already peeking from the tent's entrance.

"You're going hunting?" Rin asked softly. There was a glimmer of sadness in her eyes again.

"It seems so," Sesshōmaru said.

Rin knew she couldn't go along with them this time. Those days had ended when the war began, which she felt sorry for, since she missed Lord Tōga so dearly.

"Could you bring back some duck, maybe?" Rin asked again.

Sesshōmaru nodded. Of course he could. He would do anything for her.

Rin woke up around noon, when Sesshōmaru had already left to hunt with Lord Tōga. She stood from Sesshōmaru's futon, stretched, and went to prepare for the day, only to remember that her courier uniform was still soiled from what had occurred the night before, and that her extra clothes needed a wash as well.

Rin groaned and sank back down onto the futon. Her moment of nausea had caused her a lot of trouble, it seemed. But she couldn't just stay in the general's tent all day. People would notice, especially Inspector Jaken.

"Rin!" Jaken called from outside the tent. "Are you awake?"

She said nothing, hoping that Jaken would take the hint and leave. However, nothing could be so simple, and Jaken invited himself into the tent. Rin wrapped the blanket around herself to hide her night clothes.

"Good morning, Inspector!" Rin said with affected liveliness.

Jaken threw her a strange glance. In his hands, he held a cup and a bowl with what smelled like kayu.

"The young Lord has given you leave from your duties today," Jaken said, offering her the food. "You are to do nothing but rest!"

Rin blinked. "But—"

"Maki is resting as well," Jaken added.

Rin relaxed at that. She eyed the cup and plate with suspicion.

Jaken scowled. "Quit acting as if I poisoned it!"

That did not reassure her; nonetheless, Rin accepted the cup and bowl. All that was in the cup was ginger tea; the kayu tasted good.

Jaken watched in silence as Rin ate. Then he blurted out,

"I know you're a woman, Rin!"

Rin almost choked on her porridge. "Inspector Jaken—"

"I have been in the young Lord's service for nigh on a decade," Jaken announced, interrupting her. "Before, I was a merchant. Quite an excellent one, too. My partners and I distributed salt all over the country and on the mainland and made quite the profit for many years."

"Master Jaken?" Rin questioned, confused on where this conversation was going.

Jaken ignored her. "Everything was fine, until my partners and I fell into some trouble regarding taxes, which is considered a crime against the emperor. My partners pinned the blame on me, though I did not handle those sorts of things. So I was dragged before the emperor to decide my fate.

"The young Lord was present in court around that time, in his Imperial father's stead. His Lordship was only thirteen or fourteen, I believe. Despite his age, he got to the bottom of the matter when no adult could and determined my partners were the true culprits the entire time. He saved my life. I was so grateful that from then on, I decided to serve him for the rest of my days."

It was no wonder Jaken was so faithful to Sesshōmaru, Rin thought.

"That's a lovely story," Rin said softly.

"I shared it to inform you of Sesshōmaru's characters—sagacious, and above all, dignified," Jaken said, staring at her. "I do not know exactly who you are, or how you came into the young Lord's service, or why his Lordship took a liking to you. I can only hope that whatever this situation is, you will avoid doing anything that may embarrass his Lordship, or otherwise harm his distinguished reputation."

Jaken's green eyes shone with such uncharacteristic ferocity that Rin was sure he would've clobbered her with his staff if he had known she was a former prostitute Lord Tōga had plucked from the streets.

She frowned and gripped her cup. She had thought everything was fine, that her ruse had worked, yet Jaken glimpsed through it. Perhaps she should've stayed at Shiraoi and been obedient.

No—there was no use in looking back now. She would simply have to keep her guard up and ensure that no one else found out about her identity.

Rin looked back at Jaken with a determined glint in her eye. "I will, Inspector!"

Jaken, who was still under the impression that his master and the young courier were intimate, seemed satisfied with that answer.

"The metsuke rotates this afternoon, as you may know," Jaken said. "Before I leave, I'd like to apologize for treating you like some scapegrace."

Rin did not know what 'scapegrace' meant, but nodded.

"I'm still sorry for almost trampling you," Rin replied.

The two spent the rest of the time in silence, their score somewhat settled. Still, Rin couldn't ignore the feeling of slight dread that was growing in her chest.