a/n: short and sweet and with some new faces! i hope you all enjoy!
SONG OF THE WEST
an Inuyasha fanfic
xxxii.
It was perhaps the last warm morning of the year. As such, the birds were still active, and with predator-sharp focus, Sesshōmaru was able to locate and capture a large, fresh duck for Rin with little fuss.
Lord Tōga laughed and praised him for his aptitude.
"Congrats," his father said. "You have caught the last duck of the year."
Sesshōmaru met with his father in the woods near the honjin. Lord Tōga brought with him a retinue of a few soldiers—something which Sesshōmaru was technically supposed to have as well, for "protection"—however, the two noblemen had long since strayed away from the convoy and into the solitude of the forest.
They spoke little to each other. Even in times of peace, the men rarely ever had casual conversations outside of politics and other pertinent current events. But they did not need to. Though they did not always see eye-to-eye or understand each other much, the silence was simple, easy. And Sesshōmaru was never one for talking.
As Lord Tōga secured his catches—two rather large rabbits—to his saddle, he said something that disturbed this serene silence and took Sesshōmaru by surprise.
"I find myself missing it sometimes," Tōga announced. "Her singing, that is. It's quiet without it."
Lord Tōga looked up at the tall trees. There was a songbird resting on the branch, chirping away as if it were spring.
"It's strange how one's heart can make room for another in such a short time," Tōga said fondly.
Sesshōmaru's brow rose. Tōga rolled his eyes.
"I know you most likely don't think of her much now that you are separated from one another. You'll understand one day. Hopefully."
Sesshōmaru scoffed at this. If only his father knew how painfully ironic his words were.
"Myōga has picked up a trail for her brother," Tōga said.
Sesshōmaru's eyes flickered to his father. The expression on the older man's face was serious.
"The poor boy accidentally signed his youth away in a slave contract, it seems," Tōga continued. "Myōga wrote that he was taken from Yobetsu to Itō."
"And after?" Sesshōmaru asked.
Tōga sighed. "That is our next hurdle. Myōga was still in Itō attempting to find more information when the city was overtaken. No one has heard from him since."
There was a note of worry in Tōga's voice. Myōga had been an advisor to the previous Imperial Lord Tokudaiji before joining Tōga's inner circle. Lord Tōga had practically grown up with the short old man present.
"That old Myōga knows how to get himself out of trouble; he is likely safe," Tōga said. "As for Rin's brother…."
Sesshōmaru frowned on Rin's behalf. She had already waited an eternity. If her brother was still living, he had likely been drafted into an army, like many other peasant men. And if the war did not end soon, there was a chance she would officially have no family left in this world.
He would have to accept her into his home formally, then. He was more than willing to. His apartments had many extra corridors and rooms, built long before his birth and dedicated to the wife and concubines and favored maids of the heir to the West. She could find respite from hardships and luxuriate in the extra space and fineries. The only challenge would be broaching this idea to her and getting her to agree to the arrangement.
Sesshōmaru was not a diffident man. When there was something he desired, he simply reached out and grasped it. He was rather well-accustomed to getting what he wanted, either because of his station or through his tenacity. But Rin was different. Sesshōmaru could not—and, quite frankly, refused to—use his station against her. That was reserved for tiresome inn owners and stubborn courtiers. It would not do for a matter as delicate as Rin's heart.
However, this would take some degree of calculation. If he were to do this incorrectly and lose her trust forever, it would be his greatest and only failure.
"I've ordered the inspectors to be more stringent, owing to the Crown Prince's debacle," Tōga said, drawing Sesshōmaru's attention back to the material world. "You've done well thus far, so I'm not too concerned about your sonae. Still, be on your guard. You have quite the inspector coming your way."
"He would be?" Sesshōmaru deadpanned.
"He's a warrior monk from the capital. Old-fashioned, but reliable, I suppose. If you can curb your hubris, you won't have much issue with him."
Sesshōmaru huffed. He doubted an old monk would be too much of an obstacle.
Jaken departed from the camp at noon, when the fall mist had dissipated and the dew was gone. Rin did not see him off owing to her lack of proper clothing, but she could hear him through the heavy canvas of the tent—the rattling of rickshaw wheels, the whinnying of horses, and his last parting yells and squawks as he informed the soldiers one last time of all their many faults. Then, he was gone.
No one was sad to see him go. The couriers and other men-at-arms had felt beleaguered by him since his arrival. Lord Sesshōmaru never felt sad about anything. As for Rin, she knew she would see him again in the future if she were to settle in Inujima. She wondered if his "kindness" would last until they next met.
Don't embarrass Lord Sesshōmaru. The imperative had resounded in Rin's mind over and over since Jaken left the tent. She could tell he still did not trust her, but she thought she might not trust herself either if she were in Jaken's position.
I won't dishonor Lord Sesshōmaru, Rin determined, gripping the blanket of his futon on which she still sat. It would be wrong to disgrace his kindness, and that of Lord Tōga's, for that matter, by making any silly mistakes.
The new inspector arrived an hour or so after Jaken's departure. Fatigued by the ennui of sitting in a tent all day with nothing to do, Rin had almost fallen asleep again when she heard the wheels stop near the tent.
Rin frowned. Lord Sesshōmaru was not back yet.
She moved closer to the edge of the tent and pressed her ear to the fabric.
"Take my trunk to the tent, and remove my horse's tack as soon as possible," the unfamiliar voice commanded. Rin could tell from the deep rasp of his voice that he was old.
"Is the young Lord in?" he asked.
Camp medic Nobuo must've been walking by when the new inspector arrived, for he responded:
"The general has gone hunting with the commander, Inspector. I'm certain his Lordship will return soon."
The man gave a displeased huff but dropped the matter.
"I am Ungai," he said, his tone solid and authoritative. "You are?"
Nobuo introduced himself. Ungai was not one for small talk apparently, for Rin heard the carts and horses, as well as the men's footsteps, grow distant soon after.
From then on, Rin heard only the typical sounds of the camp: the clash of metal from sparring swords, the curses of soldiers as they jested with one another.
Later, Ungai's voice returned, along with that of another unfamiliar soldier. They were closer to the tent this time, perhaps even right beside it.
"You've met all the couriers, save for Maki and Rin," the unfamiliar soldier said. "They're both still out of sorts."
"Rin is the only courier who lodges with the general?" Ungai asked.
Rin swallowed. Hopefully, Ungai wouldn't think this out of the ordinary, as Jaken did.
"All the others are afraid of the general," the soldier explained sheepishly.
Rin heard Ungai scoff at this. "It seems as if this Rin is the only one with sense, then. There's no need to be afraid of some young Lord."
She frowned. Some young Lord? That was a flippant way to refer to Lord Sesshōmaru!
"Tell me," Ungai said. "What type of general is young Lord Tokudaiji?"
The general fell silent for a moment before responding. "Strict, but intelligent and level-headed. I would not want to be in another sonae, save the commander's."
Rin beamed proudly upon hearing those words.
"But…" the soldier continued.
"But?!" Rin repeated, before clapping her hands over her mouth.
The men fell silent. Oh, great.
"The general is a bit detached," the soldier finished, perhaps dismissing Rin's disembodied outburst as a figment of his imagination.
"How so?"
"He only speaks with Rin—and Inspector Jaken, when he was still around."
Rin sighed. Yes, Lord Sesshōmaru was antisocial. But it was simple for him to be when everyone was afraid of him. She would have to correct this perception once she got her clothes back.
Ungai hummed. "That will be all, then. Thank you."
Their footsteps grew distant again. More time passed. There were more steps, this time familiar in weight and stride. In a flood of sudden sunlight, Lord Sesshōmaru entered the tent with a duck at his back and a cool expression on his face.
Rin smiled and leapt from the futon. "Lord Sesshōmaru!"
"Rin," Sesshōmaru responded, glancing at her.
He hadn't broken a sweat at all during his hunt. Still, Rin figured it would be best for him to rest a bit before eating.
She held out her hands. Sesshōmaru stared at her, brow raised.
"I can prepare the duck, my Lord," Rin said.
Sesshōmaru walked right past her and cleared his writing desk. "Keep resting."
"You already caught it," Rin pouted. "You can't prepare it and cook it, too. Let me help!"
Sesshōmaru glanced at her again. She was still pouting, with her hands still held out expectantly and an impishly furrowed brow on her face. She looked so sincere that, for once, the mighty Sesshōmaru yielded and gave her the duck.
Rin beamed victoriously and went to work on plucking the bird. Soon, it was thoroughly de-feathered, and all she had left was to remove the head—
Rin paused. The image of the woman's head on a spike in the Crown Prince's camp appeared before her again, like a taunting specter. She shivered.
Sesshōmaru came up from behind and grabbed her hand where it gripped the knife, as if sensing her hesitancy. Rin looked up and into his eyes. They were gold as always, warm and beautiful. With a deep breath, Rin pressed down with the knife, bringing Sesshōmaru's large hand with hers, and cut through the bird's neck.
She cringed. The sensation was as unpleasant as she thought it would be. What's worse, she knew Sesshōmaru could tell it bothered her.
"Rest," he said again.
This could not continue. She would have to steel herself more, she thought. Still, Rin nodded and turned to the futon.
Sesshōmaru rolled up his sleeves and used the red tasuki from the wooden chest to keep them out of his way. His strong, lean arms were now visible beneath the flickering candlelight. She was well acquainted with those arms: they had held and protected her many times before. Had they always looked like this?
Rin shook her head. She couldn't have such thoughts about Sesshōmaru. She wouldn't dare. He wasn't someone dirty like her, or the men of her village.
With Sesshōmaru in control, the bird was gutted and placed over the pit to roast in no time. Rin's mouth watered at the smell of it.
Sesshōmaru was across the room for her now, cleaning the entrails and feathers from the desk. The entrails would be preserved for broth, especially since the cold would set in over the coming weeks.
"Thank you for taking care of me again yesterday," Rin spoke under her breath. "And I'm sorry for throwing up everywhere."
He had done so before, too, back in that village. He did a lot for her. It was strange—men of his position were not beholden to anyone, yet…
Sesshōmaru did not respond. Rin knew he didn't want her to make much of a fuss about it, but it felt good for her to be able to say that to somebody after so long.
Her mind drifted to what Sesshōmaru said about her joining them in the West again. The idea of walking through Inujima's halls felt more palpable. She could help him in a similar capacity as she did now. Then, they could at least be near each other.
Don't embarrass Lord Sesshōmaru.
Rin sighed and shook her head. It wasn't realistic. Sesshōmaru would marry, inevitably. She doubted the bride would want another woman being so close by.
Lord Sesshōmaru would be a good husband, Rin thought. He treated her so well, and they were only friends. His wife would surely want for nothing.
Rin glanced up again. To her surprise, he was staring at her.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
She flushed. "Nothing, my Lord!"
"You're quiet."
"I guess I'm still a bit tired," Rin said, pretending as if she were not just ogling his arms and considering what sort of partner he would make.
Sesshōmaru's eyes still bore a glint of suspicion, but he did not press on. Rin was thankful for this.
The duck was cooked. Sesshōmaru broke it down into parts, after which he served Rin a leg in a bowl with rice.
She hadn't eaten duck since their days traveling through the forest. The meat was tender between her teeth; she let a brief, satisfied moan as the flavor hit her tongue.
Sesshōmaru, his own bowl in his hand, regarded her with a blank look on his face.
"You're a really good cook!" Rin exclaimed innocently.
"General!" a soldier outside called. "Inspector Ungai would like to speak with you."
Sesshōmaru scowled. Rin took another bite of duck and stood to move behind the folding screen.
"Sit," Sesshōmaru said.
Rin blinked. "But…"
Sesshōmaru looked towards the tent's entrance, where the soldier—and presumably Inspector Ungai—awaited an answer.
"Leave," Sesshōmaru ordered. "We will speak tomorrow."
Outside of the tent, there was some muttering.
Rin frowned. "I can hide behind the kichō again," she whispered.
Sesshōmaru stared at her. In his mind, that was not an option.
After a long bout of silence on the other side of the tent's entrance, Ungai's slightly raspy voice responded: "Tomorrow, then, my Lord." The two heard footsteps; the men were gone.
"Continue eating," Sesshōmaru said before taking a bite of his own food.
Don't embarrass Lord Sesshōmaru…
Rin sank back onto the futon. The new inspector had already been told Lord Sesshōmaru was detached; certainly, this would not help ease Ungai's perceptions. She would have to make things better tomorrow when she introduced herself to Ungai.
Speaking of which—
"Um, Lord Sesshōmaru?" Rin spoke up.
Sesshōmaru already had his eyes on her.
"When will I get my clothes back?"
"Tomorrow morning," Sesshōmaru answered.
And she did. When she woke up the next day, her courier uniform was folded tidily on top of a brand-new futon, right in the spot where she slept before. She gave Lord Sesshōmaru, who was sitting at his writing desk, a thankful beam as she went to change behind the kichō; and soon enough, she was strolling through the open air of the camp again, ready to busy herself with various errands.
A voice called out to her as she was making her way to the medical tent to ask Nobuo if he needed any assistance for the day.
"You are Rin, correct?"
Rin turned. Ungai was a tanned old man, with a face wrinkled from a perpetual disapproving frown and a smooth head devoid of any hair. His eyes were harsh, and as black as coal.
"Inspector Ungai!" Rin said with a bow. "I'm sorry I couldn't greet you yesterday."
Ungai hummed as if to dismiss her concern. "The others said you come from Inujima."
He's straight to the point, Rin thought to herself. "I am, Inspector."
"How long have you been serving the young Lord?" Ungai asked.
Rin thought about it. When she had prepared herself for a moment like this, she settled with five years as her untruthful answer. Yes—five would work just fine.
"Five years, Inspector," Rin replied.
"Has he always been so indifferent about things?"
Rin blinked. "What do you mean?"
"He refused to see me last night, as you may be aware, though there were some important things to cover."
Rin frowned. "The young Lord isn't indifferent—he's only a bit reserved, that's all. And he had just returned from hunting with the commander. He was tired and not in the best condition to greet you."
"Is he available now?" Ungai asked.
"I think so, Inspector."
Ungai huffed. Then he pulled a message from his sleeve. "Go send this to the Takeda camp. No need to wait for a response."
The Takeda camp. That wasn't too far. She could come and go without a partner.
Years later, in hindsight, Rin wished she had asked another courier to accompany her through the woods that day. Perhaps it would have spared her the hardship of the months afterward.
There was a woman in the woods. She was leaning lackadaisically against the tree, a long, thin pipe jutted from between her fore and middle fingers. It was fancy and decorated, a stark contrast to the plain brown kosode she wore. The wisps of smoke danced and curled with each bout of wind. Still, somehow, her short black hair, which had been secured into a ponytail, remained in place. Her blood red eyes gazed boredly into the distance, and her dark brows were furrowed with slight displeasure.
Rin stifled a gasp. It was the woman from the festival again, the one who had recognized her at the sonae with the other camp followers.
Rin's mouth moved before her mind could consider the ramifications of her actions.
"Hello!"
The woman turned to her with a startled expression on her face. Upon realizing it was only Rin, and not a genuine threat, her posture relaxed into one of languid annoyance.
"Look who it is," she said. Her tone was smokey and mature.
Rin blinked. She hadn't thought of what else she would say.
"What do you want?" the woman asked, her voice a bit rougher this time.
"Nothing," Rin said. "I'm just relieved you aren't dead, that's all."
The woman let out a surprised scoff and took another long drag of her pipe.
Rin looked towards her saddle. Her water pouch rested in the side pocket. She hadn't taken a drink from it yet.
"I have some water, if you like," Rin said, holding out the pouch.
The woman's slender, dark brow rose out of suspicion. When she realized Rin was being sincere—a rare trait, nowadays—she sauntered over and accepted the water pouch without so much as a word of gratitude.
Rin watched as the woman took a few rapid swigs of water. She must've been really thirsty. How long has she been out here?
"I'm sorry about your friend," Rin added gently.
To Rin's surprise, the woman shrugged. "Don't be."
Rin let out a deep breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. The minutes were going by, and she still had to deliver Ungai's letter to the Takeda camp before anyone wondered where she went.
"I have to leave now," Rin announced. Then, with a small smile. "Good luck!"
Rin spurred her horse to move again. The woman did not utter another word. Regardless, Rin continued with a lighter heart and conscience than she had before.
a/n: until next time teeheehee~