Author's Corner
Good news everyone! Yashahime ended up being a great stimulus to carry on writing this. Not because it's good (it isn't) but because it's surprisingly boring. I've only watched four out of the six episodes that are out and I have absolutely zero desire to catch up, which is a shame because I love this world and its characters, in case that wasn't obvious from me writing a 160k+ fic about them. There are a few aspects of the sequel that I like (those being the Dream Butterfly and Kirinmaru) so I might end up borrowing them in some capacity, but for the most part, the events of the sequel don't exist in my eyes. Especially if the rumours about Sesshoumaru marrying grown-up Rin and having kids with her turn out to be true because... yikes.
So with all that said, I hope you enjoy the new chapter! Thank you to everyone who read/commented on the last one!
EIGHTH BLOOD
Chapter 55: Pandora's box
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Octavia waited until nightfall to begin her search for the enigmatic box.
The castle halls were completely empty as she traversed them like a wraith. Even the guards that patrolled the stronghold after dark were mysteriously absent. They hadn't bothered her since the incident where she'd been dragged before the court in the dead of the night. She wondered if they'd received orders from the top to leave her the hell alone, or if they simply no longer cared about what she got up to after sunset. She suspected that it might be the latter.
She was still seething from her dispute with Sesshoumaru, but her frustration had taken on a new form now. His complete and utter disregard for the children's safety had upset her greatly, and her distress had only grown since her run-in with the unsettling individual that called herself the Dressmaker. How could he be so heartless? Would he actually forsake innocent lives just to avoid giving her up? Was power really all that mattered to him?
She was so preoccupied with her own private musings that she missed the sound of footsteps coming from around the corner, and almost collided with the very object of her thoughts.
Sesshoumaru's gold eyes were luminous in the low light of the corridor. Octavia froze like a deer in the headlights as he stared at her with a peculiar look on his face. Moonlight caught in his hair and made it dazzle, and his skin looked translucent and pearl-like, contrasting against his midnight blue robes, which were surprisingly simple compared to his day attire.
Remembering his threats from that morning, she was tempted to give him the silent treatment, but her resolve cracked the moment that he opened his mouth.
"What are you doing still awake?" he asked softly.
"I couldn't sleep," she murmured, trying – and failing – to maintain eye contact with him.
"And you thought a stroll around the premises would help?"
"Something like that." Her eyes strayed down to the front of his kimono – which had come loose, revealing an inappropriate amount of chest – before shooting back up to his face. For some reason, her throat felt remarkably dry all of a sudden. "What about you? Why are you still up?"
His eyes slid closed, and he sighed. "For the same reasons as you."
"Do you even need to sleep?"
"Of course. All creatures need rest. Some require more than others, but the rule still applies."
She nodded absently.
Sesshoumaru tilted his head to the side and stared at her more intently. "Something is troubling you," he said finally. "What is it?"
She forced herself to smile. "Nothing. I'm fine."
"Don't lie to me."
Her face fell. "I'm not lying."
"Yes, you are. Is it because of what I said earlier? If so, know that it wasn't my intention to belittle you."
"You don't have to apologise. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that in front of Rin and the others. If anyone should be sorry, it's me, not you."
"I still hate it when you apologise."
She averted her eyes.
He seemed puzzled as to why she hadn't responded with a witty comeback. "Jaken tells me that you haven't been yourself since the meeting," he said, frowning slightly. "He isn't usually the most observant of people, but it seems that he was right on this particular occasion."
"What do you mean?"
"Are you afraid?"
Her pulse quickened. "No."
"Then why are you finding it so hard to look at me?"
"I'm not," she argued, meeting his gaze to prove him wrong.
She regretted doing it instantly. His eyes were like dancing embers. Clenching her jaw, she held his stare for as long as she was able, before glancing away in shame. Her guilty conscience wouldn't allow her to maintain direct eye contact with him for longer than a few seconds.
He sighed again. "I can never tell what you're thinking. It's most burdensome."
"Ditto," she said, chuckling slightly.
A smirk pulled at his lips. "That's better. I believe that's the first time you've laughed all day."
She arched a brow. "How would you know? You've hardly seen me today."
"I always see you."
Her throat closed up.
"Don't," she hissed.
His brow crinkled. "Don't what?"
Her eyes burned with the threat of tears, but she still managed to smile at him. In response, the corners of his mouth inched vaguely upwards. It was so subtle that she almost missed it entirely. Sesshoumaru wasn't exactly full of sunshine and rainbows. He was more of a grey skies and thunderstorms sort of guy. But that didn't change the fact that he was looking at her like a bird seeing its home for the first time in months after journeying over a perilous sea.
"Walk with me," he said.
Her black heart hammered in her chest.
"What if someone sees us?"
"Is the idea of us being alone together so terrible?"
"Of course not. We've been alone before. It's just . . . Things are different now."
"Are they?"
She looked away, biting her lip anxiously. They hadn't talked about what had happened in his study yesterday. She wondered if he regretted it. Maybe she ought to pretend it had been a dream. That way, she might actually have a chance at salvaging their friendship.
Unless he wanted something more.
Had he been human, his intentions would have been obvious, but he wasn't, and she had no idea how Daiyoukai etiquette and body language even worked. To say that she was out of her depth would be a gross understatement. Why couldn't he just tell her what he was thinking?
"Walk with me," he repeated gently.
"Why?" she asked.
"Because I want you to."
Surprisingly, honesty was a thousand times worse than deception.
"Okay, fine," she sighed, defeated. "I'll walk with you."
She trailed behind him wordlessly. Frowning, he slowed his pace so that he was walking beside her. Neither of them said a word as they strolled through the castle in silence. This time, Octavia didn't mind the lack of conversation. She'd grown so weary of noise that the absence of it was somewhat cleansing. Restorative, even.
The feeling didn't last long.
She couldn't stop thinking about how she was going to have to betray him.
"You were right," he blurted out suddenly. "About why I loathe looking at Inuyasha directly. He does remind me of our father. He even sounds like him sometimes."
"You must miss him."
"Who, Inuyasha?"
"No, your father. I know you two didn't have the best relationship, but I can tell you really loved him."
For a moment, she was afraid that she'd overstepped, but Sesshoumaru's sardonic reply eased her worries. "Loved?" he echoed, then grimaced, as if the word itself offended him. "What good is love against death? Answer me that, O insightful one."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm no expert, but I don't think you're supposed to be able to fight death with it. If you were, there'd be a lot less funerals. Love isn't a counterspell. It's a promise."
His brow pinched. "Is that so? And who makes this promise?"
"You do, obviously."
His indifference proved that it wasn't obvious.
"But what do I know?" she backtracked. "I'm not a philosopher. I just work in a shop. Well, worked, as in past tense. I wonder if they replaced me. They must have by now."
"I imagine you would be a hard act to follow."
"I was pretty good," she said with a shrug.
He smirked and walked through an open shoji that led outside. Pausing on the edge of the engawa, he turned and glanced back at her, his eyes bright with an unspoken invitation. She joined him on the engawa and inclined her head to meet his intense stare. She wanted to tell him that she was sorry, but that would just lead to him asking questions she couldn't answer.
Without breaking eye contact, he meandered down the steps and paused at the bottom, waiting for her to follow.
She hesitated.
Sensing her uncertainty, he reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers. The effect was instantaneous. She leaned forwards instinctively, bending her spine so that their faces were almost touching, and let her eyelids droop. She felt so safe.
"Are you sure you're not tired?" he murmured, noting her closed eyes.
This was her chance to escape. All she had to do was fake a yawn and she'd be free to go. She only had until sunrise. She couldn't afford to waste time, but she didn't want to leave. She wanted to stay. She wanted to bury her fingers in his hair and lose herself in him. She wanted him to pick her up and fly her to some faraway place, where no one would ever find them.
It doesn't matter what you want, she scolded herself. This isn't about you.
Those kids needed her. She couldn't give up on them. Not when she knew first-hand how painful it was to be abandoned by those with the power to protect you.
Sesshoumaru lifted her hand to his cheek, but before it could make contact with his skin, she detangled her fingers from his and backed away cautiously. The rejected look on his face nearly broke her heart.
Blinking back tears, she inhaled sharply before saying, "It's late. People might get the wrong idea if they hear we've been, uh . . . I should be able to sleep now. So . . . Goodnight."
His mask slid back into place.
"Very well," he said. "Goodnight."
As he turned to enter the gardens, something in her rebelled. Her hand shot out and captured his sleeve. He stopped walking and stared at her curiously, awaiting an explanation.
"I never thanked you," she muttered awkwardly.
His brow furrowed. "For what?"
Still holding his sleeve captive, she joined him at the bottom of the steps and said, "For everything."
He frowned. She took a deep breath before planting both hands on his shoulders and standing on her tiptoes so that she could place a swift kiss on his cheek. However, she miscalculated the angle, and her lips landed clumsily on the corner of his mouth. Her pulse skyrocketed and she drew away before he could misinterpret her actions, but it was too late. He looked utterly aghast.
"Octavia—"
"It's fine," she insisted, removing her hands from his shoulders. "I didn't mean to . . . I guess I'll see you around."
It was hardly a goodbye, but it was all she could manage.
He opened his mouth to say more, but she was already heading back inside. She cast him a final fleeting look as she lingered on the threshold, before passing through the open shoji and disappearing around a corner.
As she headed towards Touga's old study, she fought the urge to touch her burning lips. What the fuck was that? she thought, mortified. Why couldn't I have just smacked him?
Hating him would have been so much easier than whatever the hell this was.
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Sesshoumaru watched her walk away without putting up a fight.
They all ended up leaving eventually. The others made sense, but he hadn't expected this from her. Not yet, anyway. She must have finally gotten tired of trying to make sense of his contradictory behaviour. It was her fault for being human. He felt like he'd been split in two. His very existence had been fractured. Half of him was repulsed by her, whereas the other half was anything but. His demon instincts were at war with his male desires. The former kept telling him to be rid of her, but the latter wanted her flushed and panting beneath him.
Immortality would be so easy if we only bothered with our own.
He didn't necessarily agree with everything Nagisa had said, but he couldn't deny that she had a point. As much as he loathed to admit it, the human race had a purpose to fulfil, like all living things. For instance, a puny little ant might seem insignificant to a huge and powerful bear, but that didn't make the ant's place in nature any less important. Everything existed for a reason. To declare oneself as superior to another being was the pinnacle of ignorance.
Octavia was proud to be human. She'd said as much herself. I'm not ashamed. He hadn't understood why at the time, but he did now.
He contemplated going after her.
Never make choices with your heart.
He wasn't sure how he felt about taking the advice of a man that had forsaken his only daughter. Arashi was a wise and competent ruler, but those traits didn't automatically make him a good father. He could have forgiven her. If he truly loved her, he would have, but he'd cared more about maintaining appearances than the happiness of his child.
It was hardly a surprise.
Sesshoumaru's father hadn't cared about his happiness, either.
His mother had once claimed that son and daughter could easily be synonyms for property. They weren't loved, they were owned.
Despite her many faults, Izayoi had never once looked at Inuyasha in that light. He'd been her greatest treasure, but not in the way that a possession was. She'd loved him more than anything – more than she'd loved Touga – and that love had stood the test of time.
Love isn't a counterspell. It's a promise.
Why couldn't it be both?
Love hadn't been enough to stop her from dying, but her death hadn't stopped Inuyasha from loving her. Because of that, a part of her was still alive, and it would remain alive as long as Inuyasha remembered her. Sesshoumaru had always wanted to be remembered long after he died, and until recently, he'd believed that power was the only way to make that happen.
But Izayoi had proved him wrong.
Standing alone in the dark, Sesshoumaru finally admitted to himself something that he would never admit aloud . . .
He wanted to be loved.
He didn't know if he was capable of the kind of love he was thinking of, but he was willing to try. He wanted to be remembered for more than just killing. He wanted his subjects to cheer when they saw him, as opposed to blenching in terror as he knew they did now. He wanted to be alone with Octavia and not have to worry about being judged by onlookers. He wanted to be able to touch her without having to check that it was safe to do so first. He no longer cared if it was simply a side effect of her magic. He wanted to kiss her, hold her, taste her. But most of all, he wanted her to want him back. He'd never experienced such a potent attraction before.
It was a shame that she didn't feel the same way about him.
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No one saw her breaking into Touga's old study.
She closed the door behind her and surveyed the vast sea of darkness that swallowed the room. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a small vial of Cyril's youki – which he'd given to her of his own volition – and removed the cork. As soon as the youki was free, she pulled it into her and amplified it. An orb of purple light manifested in the palm of her hand, illuminating the room. Once it was big enough, she tossed it upwards so that it floated in circles above her head.
The enormity of the task weighed hard on her shoulders. How was she going to find the mysterious box before sunrise? It could be anywhere. Why couldn't the Dressmaker have retrieved it herself? Besides, what was so special about a box? Or rather . . . What was inside?
She started with the desk. Keeping things tidy wasn't exactly on her list of priorities, so several unkempt piles quickly formed on the floor around the desk. She cleared the cluttered surface and emptied each individual drawer, which were all full to the brim with trinkets and other forms of junk, but none of them housed the box.
Heaving a sigh, she abandoned the now-empty desk and waded through the mess on the floor towards the bookcases. She couldn't recall finding anything that had even resembled a box when searching for the Book of Four Souls, but at the time, she hadn't been looking for one.
The sun would be up in a couple of hours.
She had to check.
The ladder was too heavy for her to lift by herself, so she used the shelves to scale the towering bookcase. The wood creaked and groaned as she climbed higher, threatening to give. She was about halfway to the top when her left foot fell through the shelf she was standing on, and she plummeted to the ground. She landed on her shoulder with a loud crash and slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her scream. Mercifully, the bookcase didn't topple over and crush her.
She hauled herself up into a sitting position and pulled a face. Clutching her shoulder, she determined that it wasn't broken, which was a huge relief. It still hurt like hell, though.
After beckoning the orb of light down to where she'd fallen, she noticed that the floorboards beneath her had ruptured slightly, suggesting that there was a hollow space under the floor.
She shuffled sideways and swung her foot down to finish the job. The floorboards snapped and dipped, revealing several inches of leeway. Not enough space for a person, but certainly enough for a small item, like a box.
Conscious of putting weight on her injured shoulder, Octavia laid on her stomach and lowered her head into the space. It was pitch black in there, so she sent the orb of light in to investigate. The light revealed a murky silhouette several metres to the right of the hole. She pulled herself up and crawled over to the stretch of floor above the strange object.
Freeing the Reikon Blade from its holster, she used it to prise up the floorboards. She felt bad using the dagger in such a crude way, but she didn't have time to go hunting for a crowbar.
Once the floorboards had been lifted, she gazed into the newly formed fissure and saw a beautiful wooden jewellery box with a metal clasp. She reached in and pulled it out of the hole, then set it down on the floor in front of her. It looked absolutely ancient.
Her heart stopped when she noticed a tiny black stain on the lid.
She tried to undo the clasp, but it refused to budge. Unlike the lock on the Book of Four Souls, spirit magic didn't seem to sway it. Perhaps it needed a key?
Peering into the space under the floor once more, Octavia spotted a small roll of parchment that was fastened shut with a pale pink ribbon. Despite its age, it still smelled of incense. Unable to suppress her curiosity, she blew away the dust and read what was written.
My dearest Touga,
I struggle to find the words to convey how lost I am without you.
Your child grows stronger every day, yet I have grown weary in your absence. I fear that if you continue down this road, you will die, and our unborn child will never get the chance to meet their father. However, I understand your reasons for staying away, and I support them wholeheartedly.
That said, how are you faring with your quest? Have you found a way to save your firstborn yet? If the answer is no, I pray that this will be of some use to you. This box contains an item that is supposedly able to alter one's destiny. It may very well be a worthless trinket, but it cost my father a large sum of gold, so I hope that is not the case.
Once you have discovered a way to thwart his fate, tell Sesshoumaru that I would very much like to meet him. He might not be my own flesh and blood, but he is still family.
May the gods watch over you, my love. I know they will return you to me.
Your Izayoi.
Octavia stared at the letter vacantly.
She found herself remembering Touga's conversation with Nidawi. Your child is in terrible danger. But from what? Sesshoumaru was one of the most lethal creatures in existence. Few could pose a legitimate threat to him. His father must have been mistaken. Unless . . .
Touga-sama knew you would come.
Maybe Bokuseno had been right to fear her. She would never willingly hurt Sesshoumaru, but even she had no idea what she was capable of.
Her hands trembled as tears rolled down her cheeks. Some of them landed on the parchment she was holding and created wet spots. She sniffed and rerolled the letter, before placing it back where she'd found it. The box, on the other hand, left the room in her pocket.
She made her way towards the eastern gate, which was manned by two large jackals with wings. Their ears perked as she approached, and they both eyed her suspiciously, before exchanging an uncertain glance. The gate remained closed. Allowing a human into the stronghold was definitely against the rules, but letting one out? She supposed that was somewhat of a grey area.
She decided to make it easier on them.
"I've been told to leave," she said.
"By whom?" one asked her.
"Who do you think?"
They shared another look. "We weren't informed of this."
Octavia scowled. "And?"
"It seems like something we should have known about beforehand."
"Well, feel free to check with the boss. But he was super pissed when I last saw him. If he finds out I'm still here, he'll probably kill all three of us."
They both fought back a flinch.
It wasn't at all surprising that they opened the gate and let her out. She jogged along the path towards the forest, battling the urge to cry. Despite her feelings, she refused to look back at the stronghold. The temptation was overwhelmingly strong, but she resisted, knowing that if she looked back, she'd never be able to walk away from the closest place she had to a home.
Meanwhile, in a secret glade not too far from where she was, a servant of Erem waited with a band of sleeping children.
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Author's Corner
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