FanFiction.Net - unleash your imagination
| FanFiction.Net - unleash your imagination |
|
| Home Just In Communities Forums Beta Readers Dictionary Search | Login Register Extras |
8 - The Waking Warrior
It had been chosen as fairly neutral territory, a meeting site that all parties actually agreed on, that would not inconvenience one side much more than another. That was how the lords always interacted with one another, a carefully orchestrated dance, a movement this way, a movement that way, fake smiles plastered on faces even as toes were trod upon, some with insincere apology, some with gleeful intention.
Unfortunately, the individual that owned the site was Lord Eido. That meant that the extravagance of the island fortress was being flaunted full bore; there were hangings and scrolls and delicate pieces of artwork on obvious display. The table was inlaid with jade and pearl; the cushions were a tasseled silk and looked as though they had been imported on camel-back straight from the distant deserts. There was the low murmuring of voices, of people who would all rather be elsewhere, of some who would rather stick a dagger in the back of another than sit beside them.
Inutaisho was seated near the end of the table, close to Eido, but he was not foolish enough to take that as some superficial sign of respect. It was because he was being watched, because they were listening to him, because their very servants had been trained to watch him and to listen to him. It was a scrutiny he was accustomed to, and he had become adept at forming an expression of distant politeness, feigning interest where there was none. He was good at choosing his words, words that sounded nice when they were put together but, when sliced apart, meant absolutely nothing. The tension between Eido and his father could have been sliced by a blade if they’d been allowed to wear them to the table, but Inutaisho had learned from the best, and his father, even seated beside his greatest enemy, was behaving as though he was eating alongside a long-trusted friend.
A serving girl bent next to him, long silky hair hanging loose, a pair of thin golden chains dangling from a delicate throat. His head automatically turned toward her, entranced by that exceedingly feminine smell he loved so much. Her skin blushed faintly at his study and he withheld the smile that wanted to form, looking on dispassionately as pale-sleeved hands left behind another small tray of food. She rose from her knees and moved away, leaving him to mourn the obvious lack of lovely young servants in his father’s home. He could safely guess the culprit behind that, however: his sister saw to the hiring of workers and she was painfully aware of Father’s wandering eye and Inutaisho’s rampant affection for women.
He felt a weighted stare hone in on him then, like a hawk on a field mouse, and turned to his left to find his younger brother smirking at him.
“The food is on the plate, Nii-sama.”
“Be silent.” Really, the brat was too smart for his own good. Kanaye was little more than a boy, stuck in that odd stage between child and adult. He looked older than he was because he was big for his age and he knew more than he should because he spent too much time in silent contemplation of his studies and of others.
“Besides, I’m not sure why you’re wasting your time looking at her … when you could be looking at her,” Kanaye murmured, golden eyes darting from his brother’s displeased expression to further down the table.
Inutaisho already knew who the boy was alluding to, but he had steadfastly taken to avoiding that end of the table. There was a young female there, posture as erect and imperious as though she were some queen holding court. She was pale as cream and had hair that was an odd mix of silver and light gold, like falling starlight. But what caught his attention most was that alluring mark on her forehead, a lavender crescent-shape that gave rise to all manner of moon goddess allusions in his mind. Indeed, he would have enjoyed nothing better than to sit and absorb her for the duration of the meal, but that would be dreadfully impolite … and there was also the fact that she simply would not allow it. Every time his eyes so much as grazed in her direction, she would turn on him and meet the stare full bore, face devoid of expression, neither welcoming nor forbidding.
She was sitting beside Eizan and that made Inutaisho rather annoyed. In fact, he had to judge that Eizan had the best seat in the house, since that enchanting girl was on his left and another young beauty was on his right. The other was pretty in a wholesome, sun-bronzed way and Inutaisho could not judge which one, if either, was of any interest to Eizan. He certainly hoped it was not the girl Kanaye had noted, because she would be severely wasted on someone like Eizan, who no doubt performed certain carnal behaviors with the skill of a beached whale thrashing around in utter confusion.
Wasted, indeed, he thought disconsolately.
He made the mistake of looking her way once more, and that pair of clover-colored eyes immediately met him in full appraisal. His father’s voice broke into distracted thoughts, and he turned, idly recalling the reason he was there at all. He watched them, the calm silver-haired western lord and the quick-tempered northern counterpart, gathering what he could from the remains of their conversation.
“ …we can argue this, but it is not suitable for a dinner shared between friends, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Ah, this is not an argument, Kazuya,” Eido countered with a broad smile and a dishonest lilt. “I was simply saying that my copies of the terrain maps clearly show that you have overstepped the lines at the border to the southwest. We have never acknowledged that our realm stopped short of the mountain pass. That is an awkward boundary line.”
“Awkward or not, it is fact,” Inutaisho joined in firmly, bringing his father’s eyes toward him. As usual, he was unsure of whether he was overstepping his own bounds, but his father’s nature was, at times, a bit too peaceful, too accommodating, which meant that dealing with a snake such as Eido was best left in the hands of Inutaisho.
Eido’s smile was decidedly unfriendly. “My maps are older than you are, boy.”
“Then clearly they are in need of updating,” Inutaisho replied amiably. “Your father was the one to offer that to us in exchange for the burial grounds to the east. Those are important to your family, are they not? That was why it was changed and our map bears your own father’s notation and seal.”
“You are certainly mistaken. At that time, we did not even speak the same language. We were rather slow to adjust to the customs of this land. Translators were needed for everything and those people are long dead. Who is there to translate for you?”
Inutaisho’s answering smile was lazy. “My brother is exceptionally talented with words.” He angled his head toward the boy beside him. “Kanaye? The map of the northwest border … you translated that recently, didn’t you?”
“Ages ago,” Kanaye mumbled the correction around a mouthful of rice.
“And what did it say? Original form, no translation needed.”
Kanaye looked up, coppery eyes aiming toward the wide-beamed ceiling in thought. He scoured his memory for a moment and then began to recite a stream of foreign words in a bored monotone. It was nothing more than gibberish to most of the guests at the table, but it had its desired effect. Eizan looked up quickly from where he had been admiring one of the women with lascivious glee, amethyst eyes fixating on the western dogs with a wary stare. Eido’s face darkened and he interrupted Kanaye with an impatient wave of a massive hand.
“Who taught him that?” Eido demanded.
“No one. He taught himself,” Inutaisho replied honestly.
“It’s an easy dialect to pick up,” Kanaye supplied, cutting a disinterested look at Eido. “Simplistic and repetitious. The same sounds with varying lengths. It suits the north, really.”
Inutaisho experienced a moment of frozen horror at the boy’s words, stated so matter-of-factly that they cut through the smarmy layer of politeness that had been coating the table. That feeling was quickly replaced by the nearly uncontrollable urge to laugh; it was so understatedly rude, he was not even certain who had understood what had been said. Other conversations at the table continued, oblivious, but it had not gotten past Eido or Eizan, who were clearly fuming with unvoiced temper. Nor, apparently, had it escaped their father.
“Kanaye!” Kazuya hissed the reprimand.
“Yes, Father?”
“You are finished. Leave the table. I don’t want to see you again until we leave.”
“Yes, Father.”
Schooling his face into a disapproving calm, Inutaisho listened with one ear as his father apologized to Eido for Kanaye’s poor manners. His eyes drifted after his brother, though, who paused long enough to throw him a wicked smirk before disappearing out the screen doors. He then turned his attention back to the others at the sprawling table, eyes passing once more over the goddess at Eizan’s left. She was watching him with an inscrutable expression, but his rapturous fixation on her was broken when Eizan quietly excused himself and exited behind Kanaye. Certain that this would lead to trouble, Inutaisho nearly got to his feet, but the girl halted him with a subtle shake of her head. She rose with the grace of a dancer, robes falling in silky folds as she moved to follow them.
It was an endless exercise in patience, sitting there long enough to appear polite and interested. He made a half-hearted attempt to eat the food and he conversed easily enough with the others. At some point, his father must have won Eido back into a generous mood because they settled on a subject matter that was less argumentative, something that led them to laugh uproariously at some shared joke. It was then that Inutaisho took his leave.
Eido’s island fortress was built more in the western style, a monolithic creation of stone and damp darkness and a torturously awkward layout. Inutaisho always found it a bother to navigate, but on this occasion it was made easier by the fact that he was certain he could track his brother’s scent absolutely anywhere. He ascended a long set of steps that spiraled in upon itself and passed through a cavernous room filled with all manner of silk hangings, noting the change in light and that he was drawing closer to an exit. And, indeed, Kanaye’s scent was intertwined with the clean snow-smell that emanated from the open balcony.
The harsh glare of winter daylight greeted him along with the unmistakable sounds of violence. There was the familiar snapping-crack of a bone stressed to fracture and a pained shout that quickened his steps. Inutaisho had yet to see Eizan in battle, but knew that day was sure to come in the near future and that the man had likely been carefully groomed by his brother. Without question, Eido was one talented bastard on a battlefield, murderous and unrelenting. Eizan was older and certainly more experienced than Kanaye, who spent more time with words than with weapons. For that reason, Inutaisho could admit that he expected to arrive upon a completely different scene than the strange one that greeted his entrance on the balcony.
It was that girl, the pale one with the star-colored hair and she was laughing, a young, girlish giggle that did not seem to fit the seriousness of her or the situation at hand. Eizan was bent and clutching his nose, blood dripping between clenched fingers, splattering fat droplets against snow-swept stone. Kanaye stood across from him, hands held loosely at his sides, and when Inutaisho arrived, the boy looked up and shrugged lazily as though to say, “He had it coming.”
“I’ve pulled my nose out of my studies enough to learn how to throw a decent punch,” Kanaye said calmly. “I’d suggest you do the same. But if you really want to take your life in your own hands, repeat what you said for my brother. He’s right behind you. You won’t see it coming, I can promise.”
The girl’s laughter faded some, and Eizan lifted his face from his hands, exposing a nose that had been all but smashed beyond recognition. Kanaye made the mistake of tossing an easy grin at the girl, an understandable error in Inutaisho’s judgment, and Eizan took that moment to strike out with one hand, a snake surging toward prey. Bloody fingers wrapped around the boy’s throat, but before Kanaye could even turn his head, Inutaisho had his own arm around Eizan, clawed fingers splayed against his back, prepared to shove through to something thoroughly vital.
“Let him go. I’m wearing my best robes today. I will resent having your blood on them.”
“He’s a disrespectful brat,” Eizan hissed.
“He has no mind for the dishonesty the rest of us indulge in. Adjust to that before I force you to expel your insides.”
The hand loosened and Eizan stepped away, clearly giving priority to moving out of claw range. He aimed a frigid, leering glare at Inutaisho, who judged that it was difficult for a man to look intimidating when his face has just been so thoroughly rearranged. “You call it dishonesty, and I would agree, so shall we have a moment of truth?” Eizan smiled through bloody lips. “I think you are blinded by your own arrogance and self-importance and questionable talent. They lavish you with wild acclaim as though you were some great, infallible god. I am utterly sick of you. Whatever my brother may have in mind for the west, my only goal is to one day force you to your knees.”
Highly aware of the girl’s presence, Inutaisho took a step forward and leaned in to reply in scant whisper. “Eizan, it grieves me to tell you that I only fall to my knees for one act and that is meant to fulfill the desire of someone a good deal more feminine than you.” He pulled back then and cocked his head in feigned sympathy. “You will have to pursue another goal, I am afraid.”
Eizan sneered at that, though it came off as more of a grimace than anything truly mocking. He passed cold inspection over Inutaisho and Kanaye before coming to rest on the girl. He offered her the hand that had managed to stay clean. “Come, let’s go.”
“I am not a pet to be summoned, Eizan, and I am fine where I am,” she replied coolly, showing, much to Inutaisho’s relief, no inclination to reach for that hand.
Once Eizan had crept from the room, Inutaisho turned on Kanaye questioningly. “What did he say to provoke you?”
He shrugged noncommittally.
“Eizan said that your sister was a better son to the west than either of you. Useless, he called you, I think,” the girl spoke up.
“He used an impolite term for Nee-sama,” Kanaye admitted. “I didn’t argue about the uselessness. We all know that’s fact.”
“Oh, certainly,” Inutaisho agreed, an easy grin crossing his face. “But you were wrong to defend her for that. She will be nothing short of pleased by Eizan’s words. Nee-sama’s always considered herself a better man than either of us. Make sure you tell her when we get back.”
“That’s fine, but I won’t hear him say it.” Kanaye cast a cursory look over their spectator. “Did you come to rescue me from him? You wasted your time. Eizan’s an easy mark. All you have to do is take a swing at his pretty face and he flinches away like a girl.”
“Like a girl, hmm?” she repeated smoothly.
Flawless lips curved into a thin smile and Inutaisho fixated on them, a pale, pearlescent pink. She smelled like … his mind fumbled for a word, but it only came out as ‘clean’. She smelled like clean. Thankfully, you did not say something so stupid aloud …
“Did he offend you?” Inutaisho asked curiously.
“I can promise you this boy does not have the ability to offend me. I only thought his choice of words was interesting,” she said in a measured tone and those green eyes locked in on Inutaisho with the same unapologetic stare she had wielded at the dinner table. “You are your family’s guardian, aren’t you? Their prized workhorse. I recognize you, because I am the same.”
“The same?”
“You were interesting to watch. Your hands were already moving before Eizan even touched your brother. That is a trained instinct to deflect harm from another. If you ever reached for my sister, you would see the same from me.”
If your sister looks anything like you, that would be difficult to avoid, his mind admitted. But something told him that this girl was not speaking idly. She was dressed like a princess, but she moved differently, like a woman entirely capable of traversing easily between filthy battle and prim formality, and she watched things with eyes that were keen and calculating.
Her gaze slid back to Kanaye then, and she prompted him with an impatient tone. “I encountered you first. It is very rude not to start the introduction.”
“Oh, he’ll take care of the introductions,” Kanaye sneered, but she turned a frosty, unhappy look on him and he exhaled a worn sigh. “Yeah, I’m Kanaye. This is my older brother, the great and mighty Inutaisho-sama. Fear his name and all of that nonsense, but don’t let his manners fool you. He just loves women. All women. Human, youkai; old, young, and younger still. It’s damned creepy.”
Those startling eyes reverted to Inutaisho. “Is that so?” she murmured thoughtfully.
Inutaisho’s fangs gritted together. “Thank you for that, Kanaye. I can always count on you to introduce me as some sort of uncontrollable pervert.”
“My pleasure.”
Inutaisho managed a pained smile for the girl. “And are we allowed an equally humiliating introduction from you?”
“Oh, so that was an accurate description?” she questioned curiously, eyebrows rising. She did not seem put off, only interested, as though she had just discovered something utterly foreign. “That was refreshingly honest. It’s rare to find an opponent that will display himself so openly.”
“Opponent?” Inutaisho repeated stupidly, certain that this had suddenly gone very, very wrong.
“Everyone is my opponent. It is only a matter of degrees,” she explained, blinking slowly, and he was awed to find that she even managed to blink seductively. “I will not give myself away so easily,” she added airily, as though reading his thoughts, turning neatly on her heels in preparation to leave them. “If your brother’s description of you is accurate, I am sure you will be sorry to hear that. I will tell you now that I have no tolerance for useless, overly-charming, womanizing princes. However, I will make a small allowance for you. You have a very pretty face and I am quite superficial in that regard.”
Inutaisho’s mouth opened in amazement and the walls suddenly echoed with Kanaye’s obnoxiously satisfied laughter. “Name?” he sighed, certain that his reputation for being charming was utterly and totally baseless.
“Do you need it? Will I see you again?” The tone was not hopeful, merely analytical, as though she really was deciding if it was necessary information to impart.
“I’d like it.”
“Seiya.”
“Seiya,” he repeated obediently, feeling like some stupid boy.
“And Kanaye …?” she called, angling her head toward him.
Kanaye stopped cackling long enough to choke out a reply. “Yeah?”
“Tuck the thumb next time. You will break it if you keep hitting people like that.”
“Heh. What do I care? It hurts worse the way I do it.”
She smiled honestly then, serene as an angel, and then she was gone. Inutaisho turned a suffering look on Kanaye, but it was ignored as the boy folded his arms and declared, “That is her. She’s perfect. If she doesn’t end up your mate, then I’ll make her mine some day. You can stop being the family guard dog then. You can join me in being utterly useless, because something tells me that woman is entirely capable of destroying you.”
Seiya. The daughter of a wealthy Chinese merchant and a Japanese princess. Full dog youkai. An impeccable lineage. And, apparently, rumored to be a source of ungodly fright in a battle. It nearly made him want to wage war on the mainland. Just the thought of her dispassionate stare resting on him from across a battlefield was enough to make him restless and agonizingly frustrated. Or, better, yet … to have her on the same side, to have the absolute pleasure of knowing she would go home with him at the end of it all. That would be entirely agreeable. Thoughts were full of white skin and a mocking disdain for him that did little to bruise his ego and more to make him want to prove her wrong, and he could think of several ways in which he was sure to impress her. He was a disgusting heathen, he knew it, but he was also aware that he did not have the sense to be shamed by it.
He was pulled from his thoughts when the door to his room slid open unannounced, and he knew the intruder from that alone. Nee-sama poked her silvery head in and then entered as though there had been some expressed invitation. She regarded the miniscule room with critical appraisal before turning back to him with a faint smirk.
“Not at all what you’re used to at home, is it, Your Highness?”
“Mostly because you laid claim to the largest room,” he idly reminded her. “And it doesn’t matter. Ayakami isn’t meant for comfort.”
“It certainly isn’t,” she agreed. “It’s unbearably cold here, but I think Father made the right decision. Or, rather, you made the right decision.”
He glanced carefully at her. “I only nudged Father in the right direction. He does not take Eido as seriously as he should.”
Unable to help herself, she moved to rearrange the bed coverings to her liking, folding and smoothing fabric that was already neat. It had been diligently attended by one of the servants, but this was a woman who demanded an obscene level of perfection, and anything less tended to throw her into a frightening fit of temper that could nearly make a man religious. “If you are so worried, then why not leave Mother’s escort to another? Or simply tell her ‘no’?”
He bent and adjusted one heavy boot, but lifted his eyes long enough to say, “It is because I am worried that I will not leave her to another, and I will not tell my mother ‘no’. She never asks me for anything, and she has asked to visit Asira-sama. There has been no sign of any movement across the border and I will be back by morning. If they move, Hokido will light their guard tower. There will be plenty of warning.”
“No need to convince me,” she smirked. “If he comes, it will end quickly. I will be here. You have raw talent, but I am smarter.”
“I am aware of that much, Nee-sama,” he smiled, rising to his feet. “And you have Kanaye here as well.”
“Oh, certainly. If I need a translator, he’ll be called right out to the front lines.”
He angled his neck so that he could snap the shoulder armor into place, but she moved to do it for him, seeing to the task with swift fingers. He took the free moment to admonish her lightly. “You underestimate him, just as Father does. He has the talent and the skill set, but he lacks the experience. When I return, I am going to change that. The days of security are coming to an end. Eido will move toward us one day. Kanaye is too old to be coddled any longer.”
“He’s just a boy.”
“In your mind, he will still be a boy even when he is my size.”
“That much is true,” she admitted. She then pulled back and regarded him sternly, like a commander preparing to give orders. “Then escort mother, but return here immediately. No dawdling around that human town and, for heaven’s sake, Nii-sama, keep your filthy hands off Asira-sama’s serving girls.”
He smiled but said nothing to that, unwilling to admit that there was no room for anyone’s lovely servants in his thoughts, because they were filled securely with images of a haughty Chinese princess.
“And take care,” she added more solemnly, auburn eyes suddenly uncertain. “I have a bad feeling about you going off alone with Mother. Eido knows what you are to us. He will surely want to remove you first.”
“Oh, I sincerely hope that he tries,” Inutaisho said grimly, the smile of a moment before fading into utmost seriousness. “It would be over quickly. He is very good, but not good enough, I can promise you that.”
“You can always survive off of that endless supply of arrogance,” she sighed, waving a dismissive hand at him as she returned to the door.
He called her back. “Shinya.”
She turned, questioning, hands moving to rest impatiently on hips.
“If anything happens, light the tower,” he said. “If I am in range at all, I will see it and I will be here.”
She sneered at that. “Who needs you, baka? Father has a contingent of oversized, katana-toting goons sprawled around the entire perimeter. And, more importantly, he has me. You are just the spare in my shadow.”
He lifted his eyes to his overly-cheerful student and found Kaia smiling at him in a way that was unsure. The table they were seated at was littered with paper and with writing implements. Snow capped the flat grounds outside, making Ayakami Plain look like an endless white sea. Daylight was casting blinding rays into the room, prompting him to miss the darkness and seclusion of screens. But screens weren’t exactly meant for a fortress. This place was a solid lump of rock with thick walls and tiny windows and small rooms. It was all meant to be easily defended, but Kanaye barely cared; that was his father’s place, his brother’s place, not his.
He gestured for her to say it again and he resisted the urge to grasp onto her face and make it form the right movements. She was certainly living up to her hanyou heritage by being such a thorn in his side. This particular hanyou had been found washed up on the beach like some unwanted piece of refuse. She had been unable to communicate effectively and it had taken only a few moments to realize the girl did not have ears … quite literally. Eventually, with gesturing and some other ridiculous attempts at communication, she had relayed that her better half was that of a bat demon. Kanaye had found that so ironic, a deaf bat hanyou, that he had immediately succumbed to a fit of cackling laughter. In hindsight, that had certainly appeared mean-spirited, but, really, it had all been so ridiculous he could hardly be blamed.
His father had insisted on allowing her to remain for a while. Typical. The girl was pretty in an obvious, overly-endowed sort of way, and so Kanaye was not surprised at the insistence that she stay on as part of the household help … and even less surprised by his older sister’s stern disapproval. His father’s wandering eye was what had caused the massive age gap between Iriko and Kanaye, nearly a century. Kanaye figured his mother was too forgiving, and that that forgiveness was the only reason he and Sesali existed at all.
But he had grown weary of watching Kaia fumble about in confused silence and had added her into his studies twice a week. She was grateful and attentive, a willing student, and he could admit to finding some satisfaction in transforming her into someone who could communicate on more than a rudimentary level. She had taken on the rather amusing habit of watching people’s lips as they spoke, and because she interacted with him the most, she was most comfortable with his words.
“Say it,” he enunciated carefully and Kaia gave him one of those vapid smiles again. Her arms were folded on the table and she was leaning intently forward, bronze hair spiraling loosely across her shoulders and giving her the air of a puppy eagerly awaiting a command from its master.
“Kayaye.”
“Kanaye!”
“Kanaye.”
He glanced up at that echo and found his brother eyeing him from the threshold of the room. Everyone always commented on how they favored each other, but Kanaye could barely see it. For one thing, his brother was fully grown, his true form was nearly the size of their father’s now and Kanaye, in comparison, often felt like some hairless whelp whenever he was called off to see to some mundane task with them. Inutaisho was tall and solidly built and an obnoxiously accurate representation of his own presumptuous name. Kanaye was struggling to catch up; he was tall for his age, but the two hundred year gap between him and his brother made him feel like some snot-nosed brat in comparison. Of course, if one took personality into account, there was no likeness at all. Inutaisho was the shining prince, the prime example of youkai perfection in every obnoxious word and deed. He was good at everything, and he’d had such a head start that Kanaye was barely inclined to follow in his footsteps, did not want to linger in that shadow. Kanaye’s realm was learning. He could recite whole texts, he could fluently speak and write seven separate languages and was currently working on two others. He had outgrown his own tutors years ago, and that was fine, because they had been useless anyway.
“What is it?” he asked as Inutaisho stepped into the room and nodded a silent greeting to Kaia.
“I’m leaving to escort Mother to the southern border. I should be back sometime in the early morning, but you’ll need to be more alert today.”
“Heh. Sure.”
Inutaisho looked to Kaia, smiling faintly as he said carefully, “Is he treating you well?”
“No, I’m not,” Kanaye admitted, speaking for her. “I’m about to strangle her. I’ve worked with her for months. She’s not stupid, Nii-sama, I’ve got her reading and writing Japanese and Chinese fluently. She just can’t say anything properly. She inverts the “n” sound and the “y” sound. It’s ridiculous.”
“Yaye-kun?” Inutaisho grinned.
“Iyutaisho-sama,” Kanaye grimly replied.
“Ah, that does change things, doesn’t it?”
“Nee-sama and the other girls think it’s hilarious. I can’t make them stop.”
“It wouldn’t be so funny if you were not always so serious. You’ve never allowed them to pet you and treat you like the baby brother and so now they’ve been gifted with an overly cute name for you.”
“And what should I do about it?”
“It’s Nee-sama. Endure it,” Inutaisho advised sincerely.
Kanaye’s eyes slitted in annoyance. That said it all right there. Inutaisho was the oldest by a good thirty years and even he called his younger sister ‘Nee-sama’. The woman was a force to be reckoned with. Where their mother was rather meek and gentle, Nee-sama was a source of fiery temper and inexhaustible lectures. The boys, most especially, spent an alarming amount of time at the other end of one of her dagger-tipped fingers, having earned some venomous reprimand.
“We are outnumbered,” Kanaye sighed his exhaustion. “Father always sides with them, anyway.”
Inutaisho nodded in shared defeat. “Father is rather smart in that way. ‘Your home is only as happy as your women’, right? Four daughters means we were defeated from the start. I cannot tell you how grateful I was when you were a boy.” He paused then and said, “Speaking of which, since Father has taken on the task of training the older girls, he has left you to me.”
“Training?” Kanaye repeated absently. “I’ve had all I need, thanks.”
“You have excellent skills, that I will admit, however,” and the kind face became suddenly stern, “you have a sad lack of experience. Father may not see it as much of a weakness, but I do. Pretty swordsmanship will not save your neck. Eido has become more restless, and I want to make certain you have some degree of battle experience in case anything should happen. We’ll start taking care of that when I return tomorrow.”
“Battle experience?” Kanaye questioned lazily. “So … then does that mean I’m supposed to go start a fight with someone?”
Inutaisho nodded, appearing humored. “Yes, please do, but choose carefully. You should be able to handle it. You have a talent for being quarrelsome, and so, just this once, I will allow you to indulge it.”
“Fine, but remember that you asked for it,” Kanaye said carelessly. Inutaisho moved to leave, and Kanaye looked after him, mind falling back to the earlier admonition. “Be careful.”
Without breaking stride, Inutaisho glanced over one shoulder, the easy grin falling back into place. “Who are you talking to?”
There was a snort of amusement. “Don’t make me answer that, Nii-sama.”
Mother has gone with Nii-sama. That thought occurred to him, and he waited a few more minutes. Nee-sama … she should be staying with Nee-sama tonight. Hisae. Iriko. Someone. Dammit.
Bare feet hit the floor and he pulled himself up from his own comfort. It was cold, but he was natured toward it and it did not bother him overly much, and so he ignored the robe that was folded neatly on the side table. Maybe she’s cold. Maybe that’s what she’s complaining about.
He found the hallway exceptionally absent of activity, especially given the fact that it was filled with shrieking. Bleary-eyed, he took his life in his own hands by shoving open Nee-sama’s door without so much as a knock. The room was icy, that much he could tell, and he blinked when he found Sesali kneeling on the sleeping mat, bawling into clenched fists, wails that were broken-hearted and so overly-dramatic, he nearly laughed at her. She was a spoiled, coddled child that screamed for whatever she wanted, and rarely screamed at all, because she was always given whatever she wanted.
“Baka, if you’re cold, then don’t crawl out from the coverings,” Kanaye sighed the reprimand. He moved and seated himself cross-legged and instantly the girl found comfort by clambering across his legs and clinging like a spooked kitten.
“Or if you’re crying for Mother, you’re out of luck. She’s gone south for a few days. Nee-sama’s taking care of you. She’ll make it fun. She always plans games for you, right?” And she’ll torture me, dammit. Mother, get back here quick ….
“Yaye …”
“You, too, huh?” he grumbled, scowling. He reached out and gently grasped chubby, wet cheeks, allowing himself to do what he had so desperately wanted to do to Kaia. “Kah – nah – yeh,” he sounded out the name, forcing her lips to form the syllables until she was giggling hysterically. “Say it right. You think everything is funny, don’t you?”
The door was thrown open then and he felt his heart nearly surge from his chest at the unexpected movement. He had not heard anyone coming at all, so intent had he been on Sesali, and when he looked up, he found a white-faced Nee-sama staring down at him with wide golden eyes. Her hands were clenched into fists, and he was certain his life was about to expire then and there, but instead of the verbal thrashing he expected, Nee-sama reached for him. She grasped onto one bare arm and pulled him to his feet, his other hand barely keeping a hold on Sesali. The dread quickly faded to confusion when, instead of the unholy rage he’d expected, he found her wearing an expression he had never seen on her before. Fearful. Afraid. She, of all people, was afraid …
“Nee-sama …” he began seriously, but she interrupted him.
“Kanaye, thank goodness, you will stay with her, won’t you?”
“Stay?” He shook his head, not understanding. “What’s wrong?”
She struck a light chord of fear in him then, because she graced him with a forced smile and placed an affectionate hand on his head. Not so easy a task anymore since he had sprung up that winter and passed her by. He looked down on her now, and just a year ago it had been the other way around ….
“Eido has passed Hokido,” she said quickly, but in a voice that was calm, clear as rain. “The beacons were not lit. We’re assembling what we can now, but with Nii-sama gone, I will have to take his place. Sesali is my responsibility while Mother is away, and so I will have to leave her to you now. Do you understand?”
It took a moment for his mind to adjust to what she was saying. He stared mutely, ignoring Sesali, whose fingers were beginning to twine painfully into his loose hair. “We’re being attacked?”
“Not yet, but soon. If we had any more time, I would have one of the other girls flee with her and put you to use at the front, but there is too much confusion, and they could be coming from behind us as well for all that I know.” She paused then, and her tone became suddenly bitter. “Father placed too much faith in the humans. It was a stupid thing to do, but none of us were fit to argue with him, were we?”
“I’ll take Nii-sama’s place,” Kanaye insisted because, despite Nee-sama’s inarguable abilities, the idea of her being the target of a northern blade made him feel decidedly ill.
She shook her head firmly. “You are my baby brother. I take care of you, remember? That is how it works. Just like you will take care of Sesali until Nii-sama returns. He should be back by morning. We will last until then, I promise. Until then, watch for her … and please go light the tower. If Nii-sama is headed back this way, he will see it.”
He felt some shame then, for all of the training sessions he had skipped or ignored, all of the refused invitations Inutaisho had extended to him. He had not wanted to live in that shadow, but now, quite suddenly, there was no shadow at all. The books and the scrolls and the writings would not deflect a blade. All of the knowledge, all of the learning suddenly seemed meaningless as he stood there.
“I am not so weak that you have to hide me with the baby, Nee-sama,” he reminded her truthfully.
She smiled sympathetically, another rarity from her, and he felt an instant sense of foreboding. “If you were weak, Yaye, I would not be entrusting my job to you. I want to know that she is in good hands.”
“Nothing will happen to her,” he swore.
Nee-sama leaned in to kiss the top of Sesali’s bare head, and the child opened her arms as though preferring to switch, but that was not possible. Kanaye readjusted his grip on the squirming girl and watched his sister leave, but something in his heart twisted, turned, and he felt absolutely certain that something in this was going to go terribly awry.
It was unbearable. He felt a nearly uncontrollable need to find someone, anyone, and push Sesali into their hands so that he could be of more use than as guardian to a squalling brat. He cursed his mother for not taking Sesali with her. He cursed his brother for leaving when he should have been there, in the middle of this, with all of them. He cursed himself most of all for not relentlessly pursuing Inutaisho’s skills like a devil out of hell. A searing blast of energy was expelled from the horrific weapon Eido was wielding, neatly cleaving through one of the ornamental dragons on the side of the tower. At that, Kanaye wisely chose to return Sesali to the safety of the fortress’s impenetrable walls.
He waited and he waited some more. He waited until his body, tightened painfully with unspent tension, could no longer allow for it. He had sworn to Nee-sama, but this was beyond his abilities. He could not stay quietly tucked into a fortress when the world was being rent around him. They were outnumbered, vastly outnumbered, he had seen that much from his vantage point on the tower, and that was what formed his decision. He knew he would pay for it later. Nee-sama would destroy him for the broken promise, but that was fine. He only wanted to make sure that she would still be able to punish him for his misbehavior in the morning.
He all but invaded the downstairs armory, placing Sesali on her unsteady feet as he quickly shed his outer robe. He stripped down to the simple haori and hakama, something that would allow him to move more freely, and then he bent over the little girl. She was crying once more, wailing from the stress of the night, and he quickly covered her mouth with his hand so that she would listen. Bright eyes widened and honed in on his face as he said quietly, “I am going to leave you in here. I am going to shut the door, and you are not to come out. Do you understand me? Do not come out under any circumstance. I have to go help the others. There’s no one else, all right? Nii-sama will be back soon, but until then, I have to help the others. I will return for you.”
He quickly folded the robe on the floor for her in the hopes she would take the invitation and sleep her way through the rest of the battle. Stiff, nervous fingers moved rapidly then, shrugging on chest armor, knotting the straps of the shoulder guards, and tying long hair away from his face, out of his way. He did not waste time on much, just enough. He loathed armor; it was bulky, it did not move freely, it hindered his movements, which was a danger in itself, but he knew it was better to have something to guard for his lack of experience. It was his own fault for not being used to it. One hand grabbed for the sword he used most frequently in practice … when he deigned to show up, of course, and then he was flinging himself back up the steps, ears closed to Sesali’s wails.
He was near the top when he collided with a warm body. He reached out a steadying hand to keep it from pitching backward, feeling an immense sense of relief when Kaia’s over-large eyes found him in the dim light.
“Kaia,” he began, but she looked away from him, back toward the top of the stairs, and he impatiently grasped her chin, forcing her sight back on him. She looked confused, out-of-sorts, and he felt suddenly sorry for her, as well as oddly jealous of her inability to hear the horrific cacophony that was pounding down around them. He spoke quickly, enunciating carefully.
“Stay with Sesali. Do not go outside. I will come for you later. There is a battle. Understand?”
She grasped his face in return, and he wondered for a moment if she had not understood, if he needed to repeat himself, but she finally nodded, appearing stricken by sudden fear.
“Stay,” he reiterated. “Bar the door behind me.”
He did not wait for her agreement. He stormed up the stairs, shutting each successive door and latching them behind him … for all the good it would do. His hand fell to the hilt of the sword, fingers wrapped around the heavy coldness of it as he pulled it free from the sheath. His grip felt awkward no matter how he arranged his fingers and that, again, was his own fault. He had not lifted a blade since the fall, and he was about to pay for it, he was certain.
Searing cold slapped against his skin as he sprinted outside, feet kicking up a spray of white powder. He was grateful to see that the gates were still closed, though they looked terribly abused. There was a ghastly reek of blood and smoke, and the noise was far worse. It sounded like hell was loosing some unearthly war cry, rumbling upward from beneath the earth in a rage. It chilled his blood and he felt the first, faint stirrings of real fear. Nii-sama … you don’t even know what that is, do you? To run into something like this and to be afraid of it. That thought circled his mind as he launched himself up and over the gate, dropping into a cat-like crouch on the other side.
He felt his heart halt in midbeat. Everything seized and stopped. The outer guard buildings had been set aflame, certainly by his own people, as it forced the fight downwind and away from the fortress. Temporarily, at least. The plain was no longer covered in that peaceful, solitary blanket of white … it was gutted, wrecked, gouged. There was no longer even soil, just rock that was smeared slick with the blood and insides of the people that lay sprawled like some fleshy carpet. He recognized them, too many of them, but some were no longer recognizable at all. His heart lurched back into unwilling motion.
Nii-sama …
He ran then, pulled forward, away from that eye-scarring sight and toward the battle itself. He saw a few of his father’s people still scattered and fighting, easily recognizable by the characteristic silvery hair, but most of them were being overpowered, overwhelmed. Three against one. Four against one. And the end to those skirmishes was almost inevitable. He joined where he could, and his earliest training was dishearteningly slow to return, but it did and he felt his body gradually fall into the movements, like muscles stretched after a long night’s sleep. But there was still a glaring difference, and he recalled his brother’s earlier warning about the lack of experience. It was true, so true, and he was certain he was displaying himself as some incompetent half-wit, an easy mark for a northern blade. He fell for the feint that would have removed his head if it had not been for Hisae’s watchful eye. He was slower, prone more to thinking than reacting, and that was so fatal in a situation such as this. He moved from invader to invader, slicing, gutting, trying to recall all of those sessions when he had so lazily watched his brother, not terribly motivated to participate because he had known it would only end with unintended humiliation at the hands of Inutaisho.
The smell was gut-wrenching. Death, death, death. And there was something in the air, a heavy current that felt positively poisonous. He looked toward the main part of the fray and found Eido’s unmistakable location due to the blinding explosions that were being expelled from that sword. He must have been giving them plenty of trouble, because so many were wearing their true forms, dozens of massive, white canines that were biting and snapping and still being brought down in alarming numbers. He was surprised, because one thing he did remember was the admonition by his brother to never take care of something in true form that could be handled in the more easily-managed bipedal body. Fighting on two feet allowed for easier maneuvering and it consumed much smaller quantities of energy, and so he was unhappy to find so many already giving in to their transformations. That form allowed one to absorb a much harsher blow and to retaliate with increased strength, but to Kanaye, it signaled an army in trouble.
He barely got past another, his heavy swing just managing to connect before that of his opponent. He felt himself flinch as the blade cut a hot streak across one cheek, only just missing the eye. Face burning with humiliation, he relied on his anger to cut down two more before a third came up behind him, surprising him, and this time Hisae was not at his back. His eyes widened at the foreign feel of something cold thrusting raggedly through skin, from back to belly. A primitive, agonizing burn erupted and he instinctually lurched forward, pulling himself free from the blade before its wielder could slice across and separate him into equal halves. He stumbled and turned, slashing an upward arc that caught enough of the northerner’s throat to bring him down, choking him on his own fluids.
Kanaye’s head began to pound and the omnipresent reek of death was replaced with the more immediate smell of his own heated blood, like iron smelting in a forge. He reoriented himself, the frost-ridden wind smacking him in the face, and that annoying tingling feeling of blood oozing over skin began to fade as the elements worked to freeze it in mid-stream. He continued on, still aiming for that sword that fairly glowed with evil intent, and he was dismayed to see that only two western dogs remained in their canine forms, and both were his own sisters. Hisae. Nee-sama. There was no sign of Father at all, and that filled him with a sense of foreboding that urged his legs into a sprint, heedless of what came at him from the sides or from behind.
Another of those cursed currents of energy fanned outward for a moment in a breath-taking splash that idly reminded him of spring sakura. It was not nearly so delicate as those blossoms, however; it connected with the already ruined ground and blasted another crater, forcing the two dogs into separate directions.
That sword … someone has to get that sword away from him. No sooner had the thought left his mind when it struck once more, and this time Hisae was gone, cleaved neatly through the middle by a careless swing. A chilled sweat beaded itself across his skin as he tore toward that one remaining canine, hands white-knuckled as he clutched at his dripping sword. He felt it so strongly, that aura … dangerous, threatening, a black, evil jyaki. Nee-sama came out of her form quite suddenly and because he attributed that to her exhaustion, he quickly sheathed his blade and threw himself into his own transformation.
Limbs lengthened, trunk-sized claws extended, and suddenly the cold was a non-factor as he grew to a height that allowed him to see a wider expanse of the ruined battlefield and the death that clung to it like some ugly moss. Nee-sama turned at the sudden surge of youki and he heard her call something, a voice that was ragged and desperate, but he could not differentiate the words. His mind was too full of darkness, it felt like a toxin, as though he was wading through a breath-choking miasma. Keen sight honed in on Eido and he hurtled toward the man, who was commanding the field like some dark, self-proclaimed god, but he was met by Eizan, also in canine form, and a pair of snapping jaws suddenly sliced through fur and flesh.
Kanaye allowed the assault, the bones in his neck protesting under the stress; his peripheral sight was locked on Nee-sama, who was bent, spent muscles shaking, and when she lifted her head to watch him, he saw the mournful defeat. To her, it was already over, and he wanted more than anything to change her mind. He angled his massive body, planting pawed feet, stubbornly blocking Eido’s line of sight in an effort to buy her a few moments of rest. And then, beyond her, he saw the reason for her hopelessness and cruel reality latched onto him just as Eizan’s jaws gave way.
His father was one of those littering the field like refuse, spent and finished, unmoving, and it was such an incongruous sight, so impossible, that Kanaye’s mind left the battle entirely for a moment. Never. Never in his life had he seen his father on his back.
Nii-sama … please ….
He was out of his element. Any thought of saving these people was ridiculous, a pathetic daydream from the mind of a useless, over-indulged boy. He had never seen anything like this in his life. He had only read it … he only read about bloody, realm-conquering battles where unflinching warriors stepped out to greet their opponent with confidence that came from the easy stroke of characters down a page. Words created their fate, not reality, and words would not help him forge the resolution he wanted.
He felt clunky and useless. He never, ever fought in dog form. It was too energy-consuming. And why would he ever have bothered training such a skill? After all, there would always be Father and if not Father there would always be Nii-sama. Nii-sama would have a fight finished before Kanaye could even complete such a transformation, so why bother? But, oh, now how he wished he had bothered. He wished so much that he had listened more and absorbed it all, he wished he had participated and spent those long morning hours alongside Nii-sama in his careful, methodical training instead of sleeping late and rolling out of bed to work on translating some bit of pointless, foreign writing. He felt like he owed an apology … to someone, anyone … his insides were bursting with it, but he was unsure exactly to whom it belonged. Some of them were gone. Hisae. Father. Iriko, where are you? And he was entirely certain he was not going to see the others again, one way or another.
He would not draw back. Nee-sama was behind him and she would see nothing but his back until this was over. He promised himself that he could do at least that much.
It ended quickly. Eizan pulled back so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that Kanaye hesitated for a moment in his confusion and that inattention allowed Eido a clear shot. A blistering-hot streak shot outward from that horrific weapon, spearing him through the chest with excruciating precision. Everything seemed to burn away, what was inside and what was outside, and he felt himself shrinking, wrenched out of his dog form. His back struck the unforgiving earth and he knew for a certainty that he had just died, because nothing worked except his eyes. He waited for vision to fade, for everything to fade. And everything did fade, but mostly because the battle was over. The corners of his eyes were filled with the roaring orange glow of consuming flame and he was drowning in the sickening smell of blood, his own and that of countless others. The silence was coming, complete and terrible, not from victory but from defeat, and that was because the northerners had run out of people to fight.
His body decided that it was not finished after all, that it was still among the living, because it began forcing itself to see to its own work once more. Lungs suddenly inhaled a startling, agonizing breath and he swallowed a mouthful of his own blood, ears ringing to the point of deafness. His head was slowly filling with a dull roar, a white noise that was forging a rapid crescendo, pounding inside his brain like some rabid beast trying to claw its way out of a trap.
Nii-sama …
His limbs acquired the ability to move once more and he rolled onto his belly, preparing to push himself back up. Everything burned so badly, it was difficult to force his muscles to heed his commands. The clanging clash of two swords echoed from behind him, right behind him, nearly on top of him, and he knew it was Nee-sama and that she was overmatched. They all were. They had all been overmatched. Hokido, damn you … I’ll kill you all, I swear … I swear …
His hands were wrist-deep in a sticky muck of mud and melted snow and blood. He shoved himself back to his knees, and then to his feet, idly surprised that his body did not simply snap in half from the effort. He did not dare look at the wound; he was certain it would be very discouraging, and that was most certainly the last thing he needed. Instead, he turned in time to watch as Eido disarmed Nee-sama and grabbed a hold of her long, loose hair. He forced her to her knees, and Kanaye’s mind was suddenly full of Eizan’s threatening words to Inutaisho just days earlier. He could not stand the sight.
Weary legs summoned energy from somewhere and he was only absently aware of the fact that he had lost track of his sword. You son of a bitch, she’ll kill you for that … I’ll kill you …
Bur she did not. She was shaking with exhaustion, and Eido finished her off like any other, slicing easily through the slender neck. Feet slowed, stumbled, and Kanaye stared mutely as the man released Nee-sama’s body and dismissed her immediately, redirecting his attention to Kanaye.
Kanaye’s brain was muddled, confused, there was a thick layer of fog coating each and every thought. He was somehow surrounded by his family, but only pieces and parts of them. Scattered, shattered, unmoving. The sound of competing blades was gone, there was nothing at all save for a soft flurry of flakes from a black, wintry sky. It was all so unreal. He had spent the morning worried over a mocking mispronunciation of his name, and now, in the darkest hours of the night, he was standing in the middle of an ended battle, a field utterly ravaged by the fierceness of youkai pride and temper. He was wallowing in sodden, blood-soaked clothing and armor that was heavy, weighing him down, and he was hurting like he never had in his life. Illness made his stomach clench and his ears were bursting with that all-consuming roar. He would not survive this, he was not made to survive something like this, but, really, that hardly mattered at all.
He was utterly alone. He came to realize this slowly when he turned and looked about him, searching for some sign of life that was not dark-haired and violet-eyed and gloating with victory. It was only a sea of bodies. The few that remained upright were wearing a uniform that did not belong to the west and they were making their way back to their leader’s side with slow, satisfied steps, eyeing him like a meal that has just been delivered to a den of ravenous hyenas. Eido called something in a voice that was slick with mockery, but he did not understand the words. The avalanche inside his own head was far too loud to understand the words of another. He mutely eyed the northern lord, then looked past him to the sprawling wave of whole, healthy, katana-wielding bodies behind him.
Nii-sama, you said I need experience. This surely must count for something.
And it was laughable, it was so utterly ridiculous that he, of all of them, was the one that remained. The one that never bothered. The one that put out the least amount of effort. The one who never offered anything more than silence or a smart-ass comment. He gave in to the moment and laughed, a choking, tortured sound that hurt so badly his eyes watered. Once the moment of insane humor passed, his mind flickered back to the two girls that remained in that husk of a fortress, waiting on him, waiting for him to return. He most certainly would not, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try.
He inhaled a deep breath. He straightened. Then, swaying oddly … because, really, there was something very wrong with him; his body simply would not obey properly … he located his sword, and bent to retrieve it. When he lifted his eyes, he saw that Eido was lurking nearby, mouth turned upward into a satisfied smirk. Kanaye remained still, watching, trying to regain some energy, but then Eizan began striding confidently toward Father, as though he had some right to be anywhere near the man.
Something emerged then, something white-hot and adamant, and he was suddenly hauling across the field, eyes trained on Eizan, who did not expect it and so glanced up with obvious surprise as a hurtling body met his with bone-crunching force. The death Kanaye had intended to deliver was never allowed, however. His senses ordered him to move and he heeded them, leaping out of the way of another fiery attack that sliced a burning crease across one arm. Even that glancing blow carried enough force to knock him flat on his back yet again. Without thought or feeling, for he felt he was well beyond much of either, Kanaye shoved himself to his knees, and then back to his feet once more.
His eyes burned, not with grief but with fury. Something had broken open, something was escaping, and his ears were full of little else other than Eido’s mocking voice and that great, white roar. Everything else disappeared; he felt a complete absence of life, as though every speck of feeling had been sucked away. There was no failure and there was no anguish. There was nothing save for the growing surge of blood thrusting itself through veins, throughout a body that was more inclined to shut down than to keep fighting. He felt split, separated. It was as though the exhausted, hurting, useless scholar was giving in, waving another part of him to the forefront; he was retiring and giving way to something more capable of survival.
He suddenly felt oddly at peace; the absence of everything was comforting and a humorless, vacant smile crossed his lips as he lifted his eyes, watching his opponents through vision that was crimson-tinged, through blood or that motivating fury he did not know and he did not care. He lifted his sword in a hand that no longer shook with exhaustion.
Eido stood like a great, invading emperor, surrounded by a whipping frenzy of black, silky hair, and, apparently, the blessing of Fate herself. He brought that wicked sword back up, and Kanaye watched as it continued to spew that poisonous aura. Even now, especially now, it made him crave the transformation into his more primitive form.
“I want your brother,” Eido demanded.
“Heh. So do I. We’ll both have to make do, won’t we?” The voice was different. Empty. Unwavering. The well had run dry, save for the supply of sarcasm … and loathing for these people and for himself and for his father’s utter stupidity. He felt sick with it, weighted with it. It was working so hard to crush him, but he steadfastly ignored it.
“Where is he?”
“You should be worried about me right now.”
“Why?” Eido questioned contemptuously, lips turning upward as though with the intent to laugh. “You’re nearly done. The only use I have for you is the location of your brother and of the other missing girl. Kazuya had four daughters. I’ve killed three, and I don’t like to leave anything incomplete.”
Kanaye heard himself laugh again; it was unintentional, it escaped his throat, raw and barely sane to his own ears. “The fourth will stay beyond your reach, I can promise you that much. And I will also tell you that my goal in this is not to survive.”
“Ohhh? Then what is it?” Eido asked with an indulgent smile.
“When my brother returns, and believe me he will, I will still be standing,” Kanaye replied, unblinking. “That is my only goal. Anything beyond that is meaningless. I am useless for anything else.”
“I see. It’s a rivalry, is it?” Eido questioned, casting a knowing glance at Eizan, who appeared nearly bored with the exchange. “Eizan … I will allow you to make yourself useful.”
Eizan glanced quickly at his brother and then passed an unimpressed inspection over Kanaye, looking as miffed as though he had just been offered the servants’ leftovers. “He’s half dead. It’s hardly a challenge.”
“No challenge at all,” Kanaye confirmed in a breathy whisper, adjusting his hold on the sword. Bruised fingers folded in a death grip around the hilt and he fixed humorless eyes on his opponent.
Supremely put upon, Eizan drew his own weapon once more, a spoiled prince being forced to see to a mere formality … and so Kanaye allowed himself a moment of hot satisfaction at the expression on Eizan’s face when the man realized he had been set upon by nothing less than a rabid animal.
Kanaye did not bother with defending overly much; there was no intent to survive past the moment his brother stepped foot on that battlefield and every intent on obliterating his opponent. He could tell that Eizan was unaccustomed to fighting someone who made no effort whatsoever to shield himself, and the man was consistently put off-balance, driven backward even as his own blows connected with a body that stubbornly refused to go down. Kanaye felt none of it, his wild swings connected against armor, slit skin, hacked off a sizable hunk of dark hair, and then, finally, he succeeded in getting close enough to trip Eizan’s feet out from under him. In an instant, Kanaye was on top of him, tearing for the throat, wanting nothing more than to watch the man’s life bleed out in front of his eyes. It was a black, consuming fury … he could see nothing else but that thumping pulse of blood against skin, mocking him in a field that was nothing more than a grave for the west.
Appearing desperate as he worked to keep razor-sharp claws away from his throat, Eizan unsheathed a dagger from somewhere and drove it through Kanaye’s thigh in an attempt to get some of the weight off of him. It worked, because the leg suddenly failed and Eizan shoved Kanaye away, scrambling backward as though certain the beast would lunge for him again.
Eido intervened, and before Kanaye could right himself, a heavy boot settled over one knee and stomped. There was a sickening crack that sent agonized light shooting to the backs of his eyes, and then to his fingers, and to his toes. Kanaye dropped his sword and pulled the dagger from his thigh, retaliating by shoving it through Eido’s calf. The lord cursed and drew back, giving Kanaye enough room to stumble gracelessly to his feet. The leg would no longer bear weight properly; it was some useless hunk of flesh that hung off of him, slowing him, hindering him. Eizan prowled closer to resume the fight, and Kanaye did not wait for the attack, instead choosing to lunge for a second attempt at a kill.
And it was then that he smelled it, that unmistakable scent that superceded the choking layer of smoke and death. It was drawing closer at an unimaginable speed, a speed that had always surpassed his own. He could not get a strong enough grip on Eizan’s neck, not enough to break it solidly, and so he settled instead for punching two fingers through the back, inciting an agonized howl. He shoved the body away from him, listened as his name was called by a voice that was so gratifyingly familiar. That distant part of him, the one that was drifting backward and out of reach, succumbed to an indescribable relief.
He was consumed by the intense satisfaction that came with having lasted. His brother was here, and he was still standing. The vengeful, hungry din in his head overwhelmed him once more and his vision filled with a startling, blinding white. He was exhausted; that absence of feeling became a numbing weariness and the effort to cling to his body was drawing energy from someplace beyond him. They are finished, and I am done as well. Spare. Useless. But something in him refused to shut down, something he did not recognize. It would not let him rest. It was that source of blankness; it promised to keep going, whatever he decided, and so Kanaye gave in to that white void, willing it to fight for him, to have its own way.
The first thing he noticed was the land. Ayakami unfolded before him in a wave of annihilation. It was as though a giant, clawed hand had dropped from the heavens and scooped up a jagged handful of earth. Everything was blackened and ravaged and broken. The fortress’s defensive outer walls no longer stood; they were only crumbled remnants of something that had once been a source of intimidation. The landscape was littered with bodies and western blood soaked through the scant, ruined soil, making footing uneasy. He could hear it, though, the distant collision of sword against sword. It was as familiar to him as his own heartbeat and he shot toward it.
The first one he found was Iriko. She was prone on the ground, neck bent unnaturally, face shielded by a curtain of silvery hair. That tight feeling in his gut worsened, pained him, most especially because he could not allow himself to stop. He blocked the image of her from his mind and skirted around the eastern face of the fortress, bent on joining in, to do what he could, but, really, it was already over.
When he reached the west field, the source of that desperate clanging, he was met by a sight that stopped his heart. It was only Kanaye. Of everyone, only that ill-prepared boy still remained, and the northern army spilled outward, an endless sea of scavengers, vultures bent to pick the flesh from the dead. He headed toward Kanaye, who was moving oddly, in a way that Inutaisho had never seen, like a stranger in the body of his brother. Heads were being snapped from necks, torsos slit to spill insides, and he was absorbing everything they threw at him, like some impenetrable wall. It was unnatural, it was unbelievable.
As he approached, Inutaisho became less certain that it was Kanaye. It smelled like him, it smelled like his brother, but this was not the grudgingly good-hearted little brat, it was something else … a creature let loose, some beast that was set on taking an entire army down with him. One knee was bent awkwardly, snapped cleanly, and he remained on it anyway, moving a body that was all but destroyed. The eyes were tinged a bloody red and the face was feral, caught in a rage. To Inutaisho, he looked more like a corpse summoned back to life than a boy bent on survival.
A mix of training and instinct took over, and Inutaisho descended upon the front line of soldiers, scattering them into varying states of dismemberment with very little effort. His sudden arrival halted the next line, allowing him to briefly take the measure of the field. He found Eido and Eizan lurking to one side as their army did the work, both eyeing him with identical expressions of lazy amusement. He carefully studied the army’s arrangement, identified the separate contingents in an attempt to discern where the next assault was likely to come from.
Unfortunately, it came from the last place he expected. A bloody hand wrapped around his throat from behind, murderous in its intent, and he grasped onto it before it could crush the bones. Eyes widening in surprise, Inutaisho rounded on Kanaye, who was heaving like a half-drowned beast.
“Kanaye …”
The fingers tightened and Inutaisho murmured a quiet apology as he snapped the bones and pulled himself free, keeping a firm hold on the arm. Something faded from those wild eyes and his brother swayed on unsteady feet. Inutaisho looked past the boy, to the fallen form behind him. Their father was still and silent, a dull thump emanating from a wrecked body, and he could see now why Kanaye had had to make a stand in such an open place.
He grasped Kanaye’s face and looked him squarely in the eye, a dull pang reminding him of how often he’d seen the boy do the same for Kaia whenever he tried to make her understand something.
“Hey, you’re done. Leave it to me now.”
There was no more resistance in Kanaye, truly, there was nothing at all, and then the legs melted out from under him and the body became dead weight. Inutaisho settled the boy just behind him and then straightened once more, angling his head toward Eido and the wide-bladed halberd that rested on one shoulder. “You have a new toy. This should be interesting.”
Eido smiled humorlessly. “It was made specifically for the purpose of exterminating youkai. You should feel honored. I had it made entirely with you and your father in mind. Everyone else was just a test subject. I call it Ryuujin. Rather pretty, isn’t it?” A broad hand stroked down the length of the weapon, like a caress from a lover. “It destroys so effectively and with so little effort. Your family fell rather easily to it. Stand still for me, will you? You really do move around a lot in situations like these and it’s rather troublesome.”
Inutaisho ignored that. “I will not leave this place until I have extracted two lives for every life you have taken here.”
“You’ve already lost,” Eido reminded him.
“Yes, we have,” Inutaisho agreed, and he was certain those were the hardest words he’d ever had to say. “But I will not put in less effort than the boy behind me. I will leave with him and I will leave with my father, but I will not leave your army intact.”
Eido laughed loudly at that. “Army? Hardly. That is what is on its way. This is merely the force that served its intended purpose … to clear this land of the western mutts and make room for their betters.”
“A monkey can perch on a nest, but that doesn’t make it a bird, Eido. Stand there until you rot, but you will never do much more than scratch for fleas.” Inutaisho loosed a hand from around the hilt of his weapon, gesturing impatiently. “Now come and let me show you how to properly wield your new sword.”
And to help any confusion about the characters in this chapter, I mentioned at the end of WS that Kanaye was the second youngest of six, so we have in birth order:
Inutaisho
Nee-sama (Shinya)
Hisae
Iriko
Kanaye
Sesali
As for ages, I’d say Inutaisho is probably about the age Sesshoumaru is in the anime and Kanaye would be about 14 or 15 in terms of human-aging in this chapter.
And if you read the other stories, you’ll recognize Eido and Eizan, most likely, as well as Ryuujin. Ryuujin was the weapon Kawahira used in WS. Eido is Eizan’s older brother … and unlike Eizan, he’s actually mostly competent.
Asira-sama is Furu’s mother. She’ll play a small part in the next chapter as well.
Some vocabulary notes: Nii-sama is a respectful form of ‘older brother’ and Nee-sama is a respectful form of ‘older sister’. It’s not exactly proper for Inutaisho to be calling Nee-sama by that title, but it’s more out of jest, really, since she so completely bosses everyone around.
To the Reviewers:
New Fan: Oh, I don’t think Kanaye’s prepared to just up and kill Inuyasha for the heck of it. He’d need some sort of reason, even under normal circumstances, but he’s a bit out of it right now. As for whether he can return to being the man he was … I don’t know. I wrote young Kanaye as not being completely different from adult Kanaye. There’s still bits of his younger self in him, so I guess we’ll see what happens with that. I also don’t know if Shinya will return. The end of this has several possibilities. It’s all staying pretty flexible, so that I can go with what feels right. Nope, no wedding … that’s far from everyone’s minds now. Lol … not really. Lien isn’t really Inuyasha’s “oba-san” … she was just sort of laying down the law for him … lol. And I definitely can’t answer about how Sesshoumaru will fix his problems, because then there’d be no point in writing the rest. xD
Teela: Sorry, sorry! xD Here’s the rest. I wanted to break it up because it just seemed more natural to do it that way. I like to keep my chapters fairly even as far as size. Yeah, Rin is really having a tough time with her conscience right now. Poor thing. Ohhh! How very neat. I can’t wait to see it. Like I said, it’s so going on my desktop as wallpaper … lol. If that’s okay, of course. And I’m sure it’s gorgeous. You really do have a talent for art. I wish I could say the same. I am the world’s worst at drawing and things like that. And don’t worry … I see him in my own head, but it’ll be fun to see how someone else sees him.
Ghost140: lol … thanks, even though, like I said, I felt that chapter was very boring, but sometimes you have to do a little exposition. Okay … let’s see … the inspiration for Sesshoumaru’s mother definitely comes out of my own head. I’ve dropped little things about her personality throughout my other stories and so I can’t really change her now to fit the manga. She appeared in the manga so recently, that I’d only have been able to change her for this story. But to answer your question, no, my version of her is not much at all like the manga version. In fact, I can’t even really describe the manga version of her accurately … lol. And Inu-papa hasn’t been in the manga at all, unfortunately. All they’ve ever hinted about his personality was that he was a good youkai. That’s all I have to go on. Well, that and the third movie, but that wasn’t exactly canon, since it wasn’t from the manga, so … yeah, the Inutaisho in these stories comes directly from my own mind as well.