Author's Note:Well, that was a rather fast update! Seems like I've found my muse again. And now, I have some bad news for everyone....I really do hate asking for this, because I think it's pitiable to beg for reviews, but I feel that I need to impose this new policty. No reviews means no updates. Five or more reviews and I will update. I know, I'm being a total asshat, but I just feel that all my hardwork is for nothing. I'd really, really appreciate some feedback from the readers.

Chapter 5
Russian Ballet: Tchaikovsky’s 2nd Mov.

For our anniversary, he took us to a ballet performance. In Moscow (first class). A balcony was cleared, just for us. I was so happy, so grateful. And then I remembered my old ballet shoes and how they would be too worn to use by the end of the month. That’s when I realized: this was a sad farewell, as if to say…our time is up. Song ends, the swans die. Repetition becomes an invaluable, inherent segment of life.

Tokyo, Japan: Past

“You did what!” Sango shrieked the moment she waltzed inside, all fury and wrath.

I cringed at her accusation, though it was more than a fair judgment. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. It just sort of happened.”

“Oh god, Rin. No, shit like that does not just ‘sort of happen’! What you did was despicable, was disgusting. What is wrong with you? I thought you hated the guy, not secretly wanted to fuck him.”

“I don’t want to…fuck him. It was a kiss, that’s it. And it wasn’t the first ti—” The words died mid-sentence. I had basically condemned myself.

“Oh! So there were previous trysts too, eh? And while the two of you were making out and doing who knows what, did you ever think about your sister? Or Inuyasha for that matter?”

“Of course I did! I would never do anything to hurt them. I’m…I’m so stupid, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you are. But at least you’re admitting it. That’s the first step. So what did Inuyasha say?”

“What could he have said? He caught his girlfriend and his brother getting hot and heavy in the pool.”

“Not to mention the age difference.”

I winced again. That was not something I had thought about; regardless, I was never going to talk or see Sesshoumaru again so predicament resolved. However, Sango wasn’t going to let me off the hook so easily.

“But he’s a youkai…so they don’t see ‘age’ as we do.”

Sango nodded fiercely. Her cunning eyes searching and lips dripping with sarcasm. “You’re right, absolutely. Since he’s a youkai, then it’d be like a one-hundred-year-old man sleazy pervert groping an infant. That makes it so much better. I swear, how come you always get yourselves into these situations?”

“Me? And what about you? What were you and Miroku doing last night when I called? I heard some very interesting sounds in the background.”

Sango blushed. “Never mind that. The point is, Rin, what are you going to tell Kagome and Inuyasha? And don’t give me shit like ‘I’m handling the situation’ because you sure as hell aren’t!”

“I’m not going to call. I’m simply going to pretend nothing ever happened and move on with life!”

“Uh huh,” she said, unconvinced, “So when you have to see Kagome, Sesshoumaru, and Inuyasha—oh, and both sets of parents—again, you’re just gonna play it cool? Real tactful, Rin. Tell me how that turns out.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Please, help me figure out what to do.”

Sango sighed dramatically, letting me broil in my stupidity. I couldn’t blame her. No matter how much I thought about it, I still couldn’t deduce why I did what I did. It just felt like we’d known each other long before I had any recollections of…anything. As if we were meant to encounter each other in this lifetime. He was an enigma sent my way. And we were both two unfortunate parts slung into the crossfire.

“I still think you should talk to Inuyasha about this. Kagome, well…hey, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt, right? I’ll accede to your lunacy this time. But, I mean, Inuyasha saw everything. That’ll be pretty difficult to ignore, assuming that you guys are still going out. Has he called you?” Sango continued, not batting an eye, and finally giving in to my pathetic pleas.

“No, he hasn’t. I know I should call him, but I can’t muster up the courage to do so,” I replied lamely.

“Well, you better do it soon.”

“Maybe….I’ll just talk to him the morning before the tea ceremony. And…there is the ballet to see later that night. Oh god, I really do love Swan Lake, and the bloody Russian ballet company is touring Tokyo this week only! This is just great. I might as well give up on life right now since all future endeavors at artistic expression have been shot—”

“Rin, shut up and breathe. You’re taking this way out of proportion, and I can’t believe I just said that. Yes, what you did was bad, and I am still going to bitch at you about it. But for now, let’s just figure out a course of action. When is the tea ceremony?”

“Tomorrow,” I muttered, about to die and bury my shame forever.

As expected, Sango flipped. Her eyes bugged out, mouth agape, and went berserk like a Scandinavian Viking bent on pillage and plunder. I slumped further into my seat, willing myself to fuse with the chair.

“Tomorrow!” she yelled, “Are you crazy…it’s been a week and you two haven’t said anything. What have you been saying to each other at school?”

“Nothing! I don’t see him usually. And at lunch, I just stay holed up in a classroom, asking for extra help on assignments. Besides, where have you been? I haven’t seen you all week either.”

Her ears tipped with red. “Never mind me. I was with Miroku…doing homework.”

“Oh, so since when have you two been so chummy? I so fucking knew it. Finally caved and took him up on that date offer?”

“Rin, stop avoiding the subject at hand. We are here to talk about you and your whorish ways. We can talk about me after this issue concludes.”

“How eloquently put. It’s not like I technically cheated.”

“Ha, not cheating? That’s cheating, hon’. You’re two-timing Inuyasha with his brother, who also happens to be your sister’s fiancé.”

“Stop it, Sango. I’m dying of humiliation as it is without you rubbing it in.”

We sat in a rough silence while Sango thought of new ways to evince her vexation, and I simply withered under her penetrating glare. Eventually, she broke down and condescended to speak to me again. I admit: my overly self-righteous defense tactics were not improving the grave situation. And Sango was not one to put up with my sophistic, roundabout arguments for long.

“I guess there’s not much to do now but wait and see what happens tomorrow. Maybe pray that you don’t screw up again. Only joking, Rin. I doubt you and Sesshoumaru can have sex in that environment. I mean, those ceremonial rooms are tiny.”

“Sango! Please, the last thing on my mind will be having sex with him. I just want to survive tomorrow without permanent traumatic stress.”

Sango bit down her lip, deep in contemplation. “Maybe we’re looking at this the wrong way. Maybe nothing is actually wrong. Maybe they both forgot about it by now…”

“Yeah, that’s real likely.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to help. I’m trying to see all possibilities. Well, okay, how about you pretend to have forgotten about it, just act like nothing happened—after first apologizing to Inuyasha, of course. This way, you’re taking the initiative on saying: we’re all adults here. An incident occurred but that doesn’t mean the world’s come to an end. So let’s all just move on.”

I nodded slowly, taking in her words devoutly. “Perhaps. I thought about that, but what if Inuyasha throws a fit?”

“So what? Then that shows he’s a jealous guy, most of them are. But you’ve done what you can, and he can’t exactly expect more from you can he? Sure you’re a dirtbag but you’re not a malicious dirtbag.”

“Wow, Sango, thank you. I feel enormously better already,” I snapped sarcastically and then immediately regretted it. She was only trying to help. I had no right to be so snappy at her. I had incurred this upon myself.

She shrugged, not bothered at all. “Whatever. I’m just saying the truth. Do what you want, Rin. But you better figure it out soon. You only have,” she glanced at her watch, “thirteen hours and twenty-nine minutes.”

…

“Inuyasha! Inuyasha, wait, please, just hear me out for a second,” I called out vociferously—though half-whispering and muffled by the stuff air.

He scoffed and quickened his pace. I fought back angry tears and embarrassed indignation. My mother and his parents were far ahead of us, chatting away as they headed towards the room where the tea ceremony will take place. Sesshoumaru and Kagome have not yet arrived. Souta and Grandpa, forced to come along this time (they were both running out of excuses), were shuffling along not too far behind us. No one was exactly rejoicing at the ungodly hour we had to wake up and the monumental task it took for everyone to get ready.

Kagome and I were up since six, arrived at the hotel promptly at seven had suffered through nearly two and a half hours of preparation. Kagome was still in a suite upstairs, having the “finishing touches” painted on her face. Sesshoumaru, the eternally obedient and restive guard dog, waited outside her door to escort her downstairs. I refused any cosmetics and grooming aside from the bare minimum, donned the kimono as quick and lackadaisically as I could before rushing to find Inuyasha. I knew that I was far from elegant and would get an earful about it later. However, if I didn’t apologize to Inuyasha now, I would never find the bravery to do it again.

“Please! I’m sorry, Inuyasha, I really am. I fucked up, I know. I just want to talk to you.” I had finally caught up with him, years of running marathons paid off.

He glared at me, eyes black and lethal. “What.”

It was the first time I’d sensed any youkai in him and was terrified. “What you saw last Saturday—what happened between me and your brother—it was an accident. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. What I did was a mistake, and I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t deserve it. But I just wanted to tell you that—”

“Rin, you’re full of crap so just cut it out.”

“What? No, I’m serious. I’m genuinely sorry, Inuyasha.”

“I don’t know why I’m bothering listening to this. Everyone told me not to go out with you, said it was a bad mistake. I knew it wasn’t gonna turn out good, but I did anyway. I didn’t care, Rin. What my family thought.”

“Wait. Your family? They….they didn’t want you to go out with me?” My words faltered. Never had I anticipated this sort of response. I was hurt.

“Yeah. My dad and Sesshoumaru—”

“Sesshoumaru? What the hell? Why was he so against it? Why does your family hate me?”

He shook his head, exasperated. “They don’t hate you, Rin. They really like you. My dad thinks you’re hilarious. But they just didn’t want me dating you.”

“But…why? My sister’s going to marry your brother, so why can’t I just go out with you?”

“Well…it’s complicated. There are reasons I can’t talk about. And…okay, just keep this between you and me…but my dad isn’t so hot on Sesshoumaru and Kagome marrying either.”

“What! But the wedding’s in—what the hell. Why didn’t he say anything earlier?”

“Calm down, damn it. He’s not trying to separate them or anything. Look, it’s more complicated than what I can tell you. So don’t butt into it, okay?”

Now I was offended. “This concerns my family too. Don’t you think I have a right to know?”

“There’s a difference between having the right and actually knowing. Just let it go, Rin. And as for what happened last weekend….I…I forgive you. I don’t know what happened and I don’t want to know what happened. So stop apologizing so much.”

“Really? I…I still want to go out with you, Inuyasha. I still like you a lot. And seriously, what happened with Sesshoumaru, that was nothing. I think I must’ve been drunk that night. But if you want to avoid me, hate me, I understand. I’ll know I got what I deserve.”

He laughed. “You had water at dinner.”

“Okay, then I went temporarily crazy. I can’t stand Sesshoumaru there’s no way in my sane mind I’d ever kiss him.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Say what?”

“Say stuff like ‘I can’t stand him’.”

“But it’s true. And you openly express your hatred for him, daily.”

“I know. But it’s different for me. Don’t hate the guy. He’s…he’s had to make a lot of difficult choices in his life.”

“Yeah, and it must’ve been one hell of a lifetime.”

“More years than you can count. So cut him some slack.”

“Why are you suddenly defending him, Inuyasha?”

“I’m not. I’m saying…forget it. We have to go.”

Our conversation ceased as we approached the sliding rice doors. A smiling woman opened them, hearing our bickering no doubt, and bowed us in. She was old and wrinkled but had a kind of mature beauty about her, glowing from the inside, like a saint. I realized suddenly that she was a priestess, wearing the traditional garments of a shrine maiden. She took us to our respective seats (mine next to Inuyasha’s, across from our parents, with two empty seats next to us).

“Welcome,” she began in a soft voice, “Today is an auspicious day. Behold, before us, two individuals, different in nature, in nurture. Yet, despite these obstacles, they have dutifully dedicated themselves to each other. Matrimony is more than a union of two people. It is…”

Her voice droned on and on, and I struggled to understand her. She had an obscure accent, which I couldn’t decipher properly. The intonations and nuances had an ancient flair to them, and I could barely comprehend the surface-level meaning, least of all the underlying allusions and metaphors.

Next to me, Inuyasha’s head kept bobbing up and down, a sure sign he was fighting a losing battle against sleep. I nudged him, my hand concealed inside the long sleeves of my kimono. He retaliated with a shove. I smiled, knowing that things were progressing back to normal between us. I noticed Sesshoumaru frowning deeply at our antic, childish displays, never failing to stay in character, the cold prick. Kagome kept her head straight, drilling into the old woman’s monotonous monologue piously. I suppressed a yawn and straightened my back, forcing myself to appear alert and attentive.

“Kaede-san, thank you so much for coming today,” Izayoi spoke.

My leg prickled as spasms shot through muscle, my neck twitched, and eyelids fluttered. It was finally over. I had never heard anyone speak for so long and in the same quality continuously. Her tone never wavered. It was miraculous that she hadn’t lost her voice halfway through. Although I had missed most of the speech, it must have been pretty impressive because Mama, Izayoi, and Kagome set with an odd, deferential look in their eyes. They practically gazed at Kaede-san with holy reverence, bowing before a motionless Buddha or a bloody Crucifix.

“It was my pleasure, Izayoi. And now, I suppose we can cast aside all this formality. These two,” Kaede nodded right at Inuyasha and me, “looked like they’re about to fall asleep.”

“Please forgive, Rin, she’s not very accustomed to these things,” Mama said.

“And the same with Inuyasha. I apologize for my son,” Izayoi bowed.

Kaede laughed merrily. “Not at all. We were all teenagers once. Of course, that was a long time ago for me personally. Now, what say we bring out some of these delicious sweets I’ve been hearing so much about.”

Izayoi perked up. Sweets were her forte in cooking. “Right away.”

She brought out wooden boxes, carved and decorated with gold and red and black paint, filled with pastries. Kurimanju, mushimanju, and namagashi just to name a few. I was delighted at the beautiful, tiny buns stuffed with red and green bean and tea pastes. They looked so adorable sitting perfectly even and moist on their wooden pedestals. Izayoi poured tea for everyone, and soon the room was permeated with the rich aromatic fragrances of strong green tea. My head became lighter and lighter as the tea scent danced into my nostrils. I inhaled and sighed happily, taking in deep their intoxicating flavors.

Soon, more natural, casual conversation commenced. Mama and Izayoi dove right into a new round of gossip and tidbits. Touga nodded patiently as Grandpa complained about his endless aches from rheumatism. A stilted conversation was volleyed back and forth between the older and younger generations of us “children”. No one willed to comment much. I managed to say as little as possible, persistently sipped my tea and picked at the cakes. Souta and Inuyasha provided unwholesome entertainment for each other, but there was an awkward stiffness between Sesshoumaru and Kagome. Although I have never seen them being anything more than decorous and proper to each other, they were particularly frigid this morning. Kagome, especially. She merely looked at him with the slightest glances and answered as perfunctorily as possible. He inquired on all the usual, hollow drivel: health, weather, etc. She responded quietly and in monosyllables. A few times, I saw her trying to catch my eye before tersely replying.

Eventually, Sesshoumaru tired of her laconic behavior and turned his sadistic eyes towards me. I blanched as he smiled a bit and drank some tea, lips pursued into a thin sneer. It became suddenly, agonizingly hot in the room despite cool air being filtered in at full capacity. My kimono’s collar started choking me. I twisted at the edges of my sleeves, hands demurely in my lap, eyes cast down. However, he wasn’t deterred or fooled one bit.

“You look well, Rin.”

“As do you, Sesshoumaru.”

“I see you and my little brother are still cozy.”

“So?”

“A perfect match.”

“Unlike you and Kagome,” I grumbled.

“You’re mistaken.”

I forgot. Supernatural ears. Damn youkai. “How am I mistaken?”

“We are more suitable for each other than you and Inuyasha.”

“Really? At least we seem to still have fun with each other.”

He smiled cruelly. My blood cooled. “Confident on matters you have no idea.”

“What are you talking about. We’re just going out, what’s so bad about that?”

“A great deal.”

“Oh, that’s right, I forgot. You’re really opposed to us dating. Why is that, Sesshoumaru-sama?”

“You were not meant to be.”

I rolled my eyes. “A lot of bull, too much for a youkai of your eminent standing. I didn’t think people still believed in the red strings of fate anymore.”

“I don’t.”

“Then what’s up with all this destiny talk?”

“I simply said you two are wrong for each other. Nothing about destiny or fate. You assume too much, human.”

“I know what you’re implying!” I was growing tense and irritated. He was the most unbelievably infuriating man, and a smart one at that. Arguing with him was more exhausting than it’s worth. Any faint glimmer of triumph I earned would just be snatched back with the next sentence.

“Whatever. Why don’t you go bother my sister now? She actually seems to like you, god knows why.”

He gave a low chuckle. “You’re more fond of me than you care to show.”

“Lies. I’m not listening to this.”

“I seem to recall what transpired last Saturday.”

“What about last Saturday?” Kagome interjected. She had been completely ignoring her fiancé until that moment, absorbed in banter with Mama about some wedding detail.

“Nothing,” I answered hastily.

She narrowed her eyes sharply at me then him, rightfully suspecting something but didn’t bother pursuing the matter.

“Please don’t say anything to Kagome,” I whispered to Sesshoumaru as soon as she returned to her previous discussion.

“That will be up to my discretion, human.”

Shit. I was done for this time. “Up to my discretion” that meant anything from “okay, Rin, I’m sorry. I won’t mention it again” to “do what I say or suffer”. Indubitably, he would put everything in much more sententious sentiments. Nonetheless, I refused to be coerced to do his bidding. It took a masochist to foresee what a sadist plans, and it took a master masochist to plan a counterattack.

“I am sorry, my lord. Rin was insolent to request that.”

I hung my head in mock-dishonor. His eyes widened the slightest centimeter. I didn’t know what I had done precisely, but it created the desired effect: he was caught off guard at last.

Tokyo, Japan: Present

October 14 was a fantastic day in my biased opinion: the heat spell finally abated, giving the poor, agonizing denizens of Tokyo some relief. It was the day I met my adoptive nephew, Shippou, who was the cutest, sweetest (he was slightly grouchy from haven been woken from his nap) kitsune in the world. His chubby cheeks dimpled with charm and honey; the little darling’s missing tooth further added to his appeal. Kagome and I chatted for a long time while Shippou amused himself with the TV (thanks to satellite, there were over five hundred channels for him to skim over) and a large slice of chocolate cake, smearing fudge and frosting all over his face.

Kagome and I each had a tippling of clear apricot liquor, cooled from the fridge, with wet beads still falling down the glass side. Hers squeezed with lemon and orange peels, mine with a stuffed olive. It was our habitual drink when we visited each other. We joked that we drank it more for the memories than the taste, which was rather bland compared to most fruity alcohols.

“So, Kagome,” I swirled around my drink lazily, “guess who came to see me last night.”

“Who?”

“A certain Mr. Wolf.”

“Kouga? Nakamura Kouga?”

“Who else?”

“In the dead of night, I’m guessing. Someone has a crush on you. You’re so scandalous, little sister.”

I scoffed, “Hardly. You were the one he was bursting with passionate love for.”

“Then there came Ayame, the golden iris. But what does he want with you…now?”

“My dear husband sent him to spy on me. Only Kouga was kind enough to inform me of that.”

“So he’s loyalty lies with you,” Kagome remarked skeptically.

I stretched and yawned loudly. It had been a long day. “Nope. He serves only money. Therefore, whoever can pay more will gain our Mr. Wolf’s abilities.”

“Sesshoumaru will win. He’s got billions to blow off.”

“I suppose except…I’ve got another trick up my sleeve.”

“You’re wearing a tank-top,” Kagome gestured.

I frowned at her accurate retort to my metaphor. She was right, to an extent. Sesshoumaru knew most of my tricks and was cunning enough to presage any future ones. However, I was as obdurate as him if needed. And I was not going to sit back and watch myself get trampled. (My curiosity and restlessness itched to uncover the truth behind these illusions.)

“Maybe. But I’ve got something on Kouga that’ll bend him to his knees,” I couldn’t help add smugly.

“Oh really? Do tell of this ingenious idea, Rin.”

“Simple. Blackmail. I’ve kept quiet on Kouga’s part in the last ‘incidence’ but my mouth is loosening up, and I’m going senile. I just might ‘slip’ something out.”

Kagome laughed. “You’re not going senile. That’s really devious. Tell me what else are you planning? Like how are you going to implement your flawless scheme?”

“I’m just so sick of Sesshoumaru having the upper hand in this. I just want him to leave me alone. Plus, get the best of him for once. Sadly, I’m still in the planning stages.”

“You shouldn’t mess with him too much. You know that’s impossible with the—”

“I know, Kagome. Just wait. But that doesn’t mean I can’t try.”

Her brows knotted together, puzzled. “Are you sure you want to do this? Isn’t that just being stupid? What’s the point of fighting him after everything that happened? You should just live your life and enjoy it out of spite. I’m sure that’ll wound him more than anything.”

“But that’s just what he wants!”

“I don’t see how…”

“He wants me to bear the burden of his past actions. But why should I? I’m not that little kid anymore, ready to do everything he says. I’m a different person.”

“But he doesn’t know that.”

“No, he knows it. He just doesn’t want to believe it. He wants to defy the laws of gods and nature, but even youkai don’t have that much power. I’m starting to think this whole disastrous ‘connection’ between us was made up to prove his own ego.”

Kagome doubled over with laughter, spilling some of her drink. “Yeah right! That sounds more like Inuyasha than Sesshoumaru. He’s too sure of himself to prove anything to anyone, least of all some nameless gods that might not even exist. I think he’s sincerely sorry and ashamed of what he did, and he’s trying to make it up to you.”

“He doesn’t have a heart,” I shook my head vigorously.

“Maybe he does. He’s youkai. They’re different. He’s a product of different times than us. Maybe this is the only way for him to show his apologies. Also, he’s a guy. Their feelings don’t exactly encompass a lot of area.”

“Okay, then how come you know so much about everything?”

“I just do.” Kagome shrugged.

I lit a cigarette, desperate to sneak in a smoke before Sango arrived later with her pregnant stomach. “If you say so. I don’t care. I’m going on a date with Kouga tonight.”

Kagome sputtered, shocked speechless, choking on her drink. I grinned like a child drugged on morphine.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, he’s taking me out to eat and then a play or ballet performance.”

“But…but Ayame!”

“Oh, Kagome, no. I didn’t mean that kind of date. It’s purely professional. Ayame knows of course. Kouga and I have no interest in each other.”

She hit my arm hard, still recuperating from the alarm I gave her. “Stop scaring me like that! What’s all this about, Rin? It still sounds…fishy. I don’t know how Ayame is agreeing to this.”

“I invited Ayame too, but she declined, something about the kids? Did you know they have two already? Anyway, tonight is just so we can talk without unwanted observation.”

“Uh huh,” she drawled out, full of disbelief, “And what matters would this ‘date’ cover?”

“Sorry, but I can’t tell you that.”

“Rin!”

“Sorry! I’m kidding, you know I am. I have to figure it out first myself. But I’m expecting some damn good answers or it’s off to jail he goes.”

“Don’t be vicious. It’s ugly as sin.”

“Not so. And that’s the bell, it’s Sango. Time to get ready.”

“Then you better hide that cigarette dangling from your charming lips.”

Kagome sighed heavily while I ran out to open the door. My stomach was twittering with butterflies. Despite what I said about him at times, I really did appreciate Kouga. He was a good friend and an even more competent informant. Plus, his lack of moral inhibitions was going to work to my advantage this time. I smiled brightly as I greeted a frazzled Sango. My thoughts were already scheming the night’s events. Like well-oiled gadgets and gears, they rushed into motion, working out every possible kink to my plan. (Kagome’s words lingered with me, keeping tag like mystifying malaise, but I didn’t dare ruminate over them. Because if she was right then that meant my reasoning would lead to irrevocable catastrophe.)

…

“Mr. Wolf, you look dashing tonight,” I smiled as I allowed Kouga to kiss my hand gallantly.

“Please, it’s Kouga. The whole ‘Mr. Wolf’ really is an obnoxious nickname. I thought we agreed you’d stop addressing me as that last time.”

“But it’s so appropriate, fits you like a glove. Anyway, Mr. Wolf, where to tonight?”

“Your favorite restaurant,” he said, howling with sarcasm.

I made a face, which only seemed to amuse him more. Somehow, the idea of a tranquil atmosphere and exorbitantly priced seafood did not entice my palate. Having a friendly, catching-up-among-old-friends dinner was the farthest thing I wanted. But for facades, I smiled and agreed readily.

“That sounds great. I’ll order something so expensive your wallet will cry.”

“Not with what your husband’s paying me.”

“Oh, that’s right. How’s my double-agent doing?”

“He doesn’t suspect anything…yet.”

“You make it sound like he’ll find out.”

“It’s just a matter of time. I wouldn’t be surprised if he hired someone else to tail me.”

“No, that wouldn’t be surprising. Careful now or you’ll go paranoid like me.”

“Maybe I already am.”

“Then you wouldn’t have agreed to this.”

Kouga gripped onto the steering wheel tighter. “Rin, I like you and all. You’re a great friend…one hell of a friend…but I’m not gonna go as far as to messing with Sesshoumaru for you. If you know what I mean.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic. I’d never hire you as an assassin. You’re not exactly a dead-mark.”

“In that case—and you know how I hate to disappoint—let’s hear what you have in mind.”

“Oh, you’ll see. I’m still thinking what will be an apropos punishment for you,” I teased.

“Ah, I can’t wait. You’re such a bitch.”

“Exactly.”

A moment’s pause. Kouga veered around the driver in front of us. I pushed against the seat, hanging on for life.

“Listen Rin,” he began, “I really am sorry…about last time.”

“It’s okay. I forgive you. And you’re paying for it now.”

He smirked devilishly. “Don’t I know it.”

Dinner consisted mostly of some extremely uninspired conversation (Kouga and I were both not in the mood for extensive philosophical discourses) and him ravenously devouring his steak. I grimaced at the demonic—pardon the pun—ferocity he exhibited and berated Kouga about his deplorable table manners. Food wasn’t of paramount concern for me. However, my wine glass received an intense workout as our waiter incessantly filled it as the night crept along. Throughout the years, I had developed an extensive tolerance of most alcohol and liquors with the only entity that I cannot stand being beer. The taste never appealed to my tongue.

I kept staring at Kouga’s steady, uninterrupted eating and almost asked him why he was able to stomach human food when most youkai loathed the taste. Seriously. His fork never strayed far from plate or mouth. To prevent any nasty occurrences, we kept up a tedious dialogue about our equally tedious lives. It wasn’t difficult to fill in some of the vaguer details. I had to restrain from looking over my shoulder every other minute, checking for some elusive stranger stalking us.

After dinner, we attended the opening performance of Swan Lake by the Russian Ballet troupe, honoring Tokyo for some ambiguous festival or another. It had been quite some years since they last performed in Japan. There had been a controversial “incident”. My feet were cut into thin red lines by my stilettos’ vile straps. Forever, women’s shoe fashion will carry the ugly stigma of feet deformity, and I was no exception from this punishment. Kouga, ever the cordial gentleman, delivered the keys to his new car to a valet, and accompanied me inside. As to how he had acquired these tickets, I wasn’t sure, and I was too happy to ask. Our seats—front row of a left-side viewing balcony (enclosed off just for us)—had spectacular views. Settled into plump velvet seats, dress tucked, and content, I slyly glimpsed over at Kouga and smiled, ready to interrogate. Evidently, he shared the same notions.

“How many times have you seen this ballet, Rin?”

“I don’t know. Maybe thirty? Forty? It’s my favorite.”

“I heard Sesshoumaru took you to Moscow one year, anniversary?”

“Yeah, but I’d rather not talk about that. It was, however, probably the nicest gesture he showed me.”

“And how many times have you sat in this box in particular?”

I quickly reconnoitered the area, mentally scribbling down the oak columns, burgundy curtains, and gold-themed décor. Kouga was a wily one; he was insinuating something.

“Oh, I don’t know? Why don’t you tell me?”

“Twice.”

“Really? Is that so. And please tell about the first time,” I kept up with his charade.

“First time we met, remember?”

“Kouga, if you’re trying to be romantic, why don’t you save it for your wife? It might actually work on her.”

“You think I’m hitting on you?”

“No,” I smiled pleasantly, “You’re more like the pesky brother I can never exterminate.”

“Thinking of what happened the last time?”

“Not at all. I’m trying to watch, so shut up.”

I had rapturous silence for another act or so. Kouga, though, was feeling uncharacteristically chatty that night.

“Ayame told me something you said last New Year’s, about how you always wished to be Odette but knew you were more like Odile.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“I think you do. And I think you know you’re Odile, pure and simple.”

“And what would you know about that?”

“Easy. Look at how it plays out for them: Odile almost marries the prince but doesn’t. Odette does ‘cause she and Siegfried are supposed to end up together, some shit like that. Now, in the conventional version, Odile either dies or you don’t hear anything about her. But the real life Odile ends up marrying the king.”

I snorted at the ridiculous analogy, lunacy. “Right. So you’re going to replace Tchaikovsky and Drigo as the most famous and talented ballet writer in history. Good luck with that.”

“A ballet is fantasy, I’m talking about reality.”

“Okay, I’ll humor you for a second then. Just how the bloody am I Odile according to your definition? Just for clarification, I remarked that with the intention of being ironic. I’m just tired of stupid conformists bashing her.”

“See, you never hear anything more about her. But she’s probably the most mesmerizing character in the play. An enchantress. Sure, she’s not as sexy as Odette, but she has more character, more dimension. And that makes you want her more. Say that in real life, Odette and Odile are sisters. And Odile falls in love with the prince, but he and Odette are fated to be together. So where does that leave Odile?”

“I don’t know. Nowhere.”

“Wrong. Think beyond the shallow plotline, Rin. If Siegfried’s the prince then who’s the king?”

“Wait. There are so many things wrong with your logic I don’t even know where to start. So what if Siegfried’s the prince? His father is the king.”

“Maybe but what if it’s his brother?”

“Kouga, if you’re trying to contort Swan Lake to fit my life, it’s not going to work. I think you’re going demented.”

“Just think about it. I’m only elaborating on the plot. Isn’t that what all great artists do? Shape something old into something new?”

“But what you’re saying still makes no sense. What exactly are you getting at with this?”

“I think you know more than you think you do. I’m just giving you the basics: imagine you as Odile, Kagome as Odette. You should know who Siegfried and the king are. Then, who is von Rothbart?”

“Odile’s father? Are you feeling all right, Kouga?”

“Von Rothbart who gave Odile life and made it miserable for her. Controlled her, though some argue she did things of her own volition, but I doubt that. Von Rothbart who, essentially, started the war. So who is von Rothbart, Rin?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“Come on, you do know. Who is he, Rin?”

“I—it…can’t be. But that’s…preposterous. Kouga, you’re crazy. Or drunk.”

Kouga flashed at me the first genuine smile he presented this night. “Exactly right. You know who it is.”

Who is von Rothbart?

—von Rothbart is…

Tokyo, Japan: Past

Unfortunately, Mama and the rest of the “parental authorities” were unable to attend the ballet with us later that night. We had all sat down through a boring, droning dinner, sipped at fancy cocktails and sucked through lobster-tails. By the time dessert rolled by, I was craving for the simple comforts of my bedroom and a nice warm cup of milk—the perfect cure for any raving insomniac’s worst of episodes. However, there was no assuaging, inviting cup of milk in sight, only the futile promises of more swanky dinners and classy attire; they could all just bore me to death. At age sixteen (I had celebrated my birthday quietly at home a month ago), I was having a midlife crisis, which my mother easily dismissed as a teenage tantrum. My sister’s opinion of my mood swings were of no higher regard. As long as I “stayed out of her business”—we retrogressed to our usual, brusque mannerisms towards each other—she wouldn’t have a problem with me. Otherwise, she thinks tossing me to the ravenous youkai (I assumed she’s excluding her fiancé from this threat).

Therefore, after much mundane talks and grooming, all essential parts of high society living, we (that being Sesshoumaru, Kagome, Inuyasha, Souta, and the humble I) stuffed out bloated selves into a limousine that conveniently pulled up just as we stepped outside. I took one last longing look at the hotel and attempted to perk myself up for the evening’s events. No such luck. I was a sullen, ungrateful child when I settled down between Inuyasha and Kagome. The former was still in an animated conversation with Souta, and the latter sighed and cooed and did all sorts of obnoxiously promiscuous revelations. I noticed that Sesshoumaru was not impressed and began to wonder as to his reasoning behind this act.

A ballet performance, or any kind of artistic viewing, meant the finest of formal wear, which, in my case, demanded a cascading evening gown and perilous heels. I could suffer through the first (provided that it was backless, scandalous, and gave Mama nearly a coronary thrombosis), but the heels were a tad too much. And even I wasn’t brazen enough to scuttle across the high waxed marble floors of the theater entrance like a crab being chased by evil, fishing scavengers. Inuyasha proved to be an excellent escort, even held me awkwardly between my wrist and elbow, leading me to our seats. Sesshoumaru, for all his annoyances, had one irrefutably charming trait: he could obtain tickets to any show, gala, affair, etc. with the blink of an eye. To this day, I have yet to discover the tricks behind this mystery, though I do appreciate his uncanny ability to overpower the unsuspecting coordinator’s mind.

Enclosed in a private balcony (Sesshoumaru and his blushing bride-to-be valiantly volunteered to govern the back row, where she could continue admiring her shining prince), we had the best view in the house. Tickets like these must have cost a fortune, probably equivalent to half of the annual grosses of a small, third-world nation. Nonetheless, Sesshoumaru kindly dictated for us—the peons, Souta, Inuyasha, and the ever glum Rin—to enjoy the show, silently warning us not to bother him. This was an order that need not be said twice. I happily followed it and laid back to watch. However, my well-deserved bliss was interrupted, right when the first dancers pirouetted onto stage too. A tall, strange youkai had slipped into our balcony and was whispering urgently to Sesshoumaru. Kagome looked rather put-out but sufficed with pouting and sighing. She rose, at Sesshoumaru’s request, and sulked over to the vacant chair by Souta.

Eavesdropping is normally highly frowned upon by me, but in this circumstance, I was willing to make an exception. Sesshoumaru was right behind me, and the casual stranger thought it would be perfectly safe and confidential for him to talk hoarsely, loudly, in back of an insignificant human girl. Probably assured that humans have no interest in the great dealings of mighty daiyoukai such as themselves.

“Kouga. This is not a good time,” Sesshoumaru growled.

“I know. I wouldn’t have come if it weren’t urgent,” the youkai named Kouga replied, equally grouchy, “Your mother…”

(I didn’t have supernatural ears. Some were lost to me.)

“…the cow…had it coming to her…”

“How long…three centuries, I heard but…what about…?”

“Dead.”

“Sesshoumaru, are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Then what about…are they…too?”

“Most likely.”

“What do you plan on…”

“Easy.”

The rest of their conversation died out into a dull roar as the auditorium erupted in applause. We entered intermission. The ballerinas and the rare few danseurs faded, voices dying then unfolding, compliments to the prima then the sujets and coryphées. I yawned and stretched, the theatrical dimness left me groggy and purblind, lifted my legs onto Inuyasha’s lap and received a strong shove. Souta had sauntered off somewhere before the third act was over, muttering about how he loathes Swan Lake, how he couldn’t believe he was being forced to watch something so ridiculous and frilly, and had not returned. Kagome, too, had disappeared. Sneaking in a final cigarette of the night, I assumed (she was the first and only of the Higurashi sisters to quit the dreadful habit years later). Sesshoumaru had left, and in his place was the mystery youkai.

He grinned when I turned back to inspect him and extended a calloused hand. “Nakamura Kouga. You must be Higurashi Rin. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Immediately, my eyes narrowed suspiciously. Any acquaintance (or underling) of Sesshoumaru’s was a natural enemy of mine. “Hi. Why are you here?”

“Sesshoumaru had to leave on pressing business matters. I’m here to fill his spot. It’d be a shame to let a ticket like this go to waste.”

“Do you even like ballet?” I asked, accusatory and not at all mollified or repentant. My family would be horrified at my harsh tone.

“No. But I’m not here to watch, girlie, if you know what I mean.”

“Girlie? I am not—”

“Of course you are. Enjoy the show, Rin. Sesshoumaru told me how much you love ballet. This performance is for you.”

I snorted. “Hardly. More like having an expedient, private time to smooch with my sister.”

Kouga laughed. “I don’t think that’s his objective. Turn around and watch, Rin.”

“It’s intermission.”

“Then why don’t you—”

I cut him off, annoyed already. Ballet was one of my passions. I danced for a bit when I was younger, but I had weak ankles and never debuted professionally. Of course, Mama would have skinned me alive before allowing me to become a “trashy showgirl”.

“They sometimes have a short routine at intermission so the audience doesn’t get bored and leave.”

“I see.”

“I’m not really interested in that anyway. What were you and Sesshoumaru talking so cozily about?”

Kouga scowled, his handsome face becoming an ugly rictus. “That’s not for you to know.”

“But I want to.”

“Why the fuck are you so nosy?”

“It’s one of my charms.”

“Does Sesshoumaru know how incredibly annoying you are?”

“Of course. And he hates it.”

“Yet you’re still alive.”

“It’s a miracle, I know. But why are you here, Mr. Wolf? And what was all that about?”

“What did you call me?”

“Mr. Wolf. It suits you. A wolf youkai and all.”

“Yeah, I know what I am. Who the hell do you think you are giving random people stupid nicknames? Aren’t you at all afraid?”

“Not really. I don’t think you’ll hurt me.”

“Why is that?”

“I think you were sent here to protect me, and my family. Am I right?”

He didn’t respond, a tell-tale sign that I was accurate. I know I was being terribly mean, bossy, and insufferable, but I didn’t care. I was curious (Mama always said it will be the death of me).

“Rin, I’m telling you right now,” Mr. Wolf cordially continued but didn’t finish when we heard a crash. My surmised prophecy came true.

The ballet troupe froze, in mid motion, and screams began. Gunshots were heard, the curtains coming undone, people scrambled for the door. The ballerinas flung themselves off the stage or dived deeper, behind the towering, stiff curtains. Chaos was everywhere. The stench, burning, acrid and guilty, tang of blood overwhelmed me. Ow. Something stung me, right above the heart. What was that on my hand? My chest felt like it had been splintered raw, jagged pieces cruising freely in my bloodstream (they probably were). The pain was intense, and I was going into shock: omigod, I’ve been shot....But I didn’t have time to register what was happening when Kouga knocked me to the floor, grabbing Inuyasha along the way. Inuyasha, who had been snoring quietly away (he wasn’t one for the arts either) jolted awake. Eyeing him, Kouga barked out an order, get Rin out of here and find the others, before taking out his own gun.

Knees covered in dust and throbbing from when Kouga forced me into a kneeling position and chest burning, I dared to raise my head slightly—another shot. I ducked before another round commenced. It seemed like they—whoever or whatever they were—were shooting directly at us. I covered my head, crumpled into a tight ball on the floor, and searched frantically for the door. By now, the lights were blown out, and the screams became more vociferous. There was crying, yelling, cursing, so many words and emotions flying out from everywhere. But the gunshots continued. And there was no way to tell where they were coming from. I crawled into a corner, partially concealed and protected by musty curtains, and peeked out to see the commotion. Most of the audience had fled through the large doors, and the other balcony patrons were tearing out of their seats and down hidden stairs. I tried to move, but Kouga or Inuyasha pushed my head down.

“Inuyasha! Keep Rin safe, I’ll cover us. We have to get out of here,” Kouga commanded.

“Move it, Rin, come on.”

Large hands lifted me from the ground. I complied, damning the stupid dress. Inuyasha guided me out of the balcony box, and we blindly ran down the stairs as rapidly as we dared. Kouga was ahead of us, barely, gun out and ready. I clung fiercely to Inuyasha, wrecked with terror and confusion. Three-fourths of the way down, I tripped on the slippery fabric and sank gracelessly, foot twisted under.

“You okay, Rin?” Inuyasha asked, cringing at the smell of blood. My wound was pouring like the Kegon Falls in spring deluges. Light headed, thinking this must be a nightmare.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s just get out of here.”

I stood up, nauseated from fear and the pain. A moment later, we were by the front entrance, the last of the screaming bunch.

“Wait! Where’s Kagome and Souta?” I shrieked, realizing they weren’t anywhere in sight.

“Don’t worry,” Kouga said calmly, “They’ll have already gone out. We need to get you somewhere safe. Inuyasha, is the car here yet?”

“Fuck. No, sorry. I’ll keep calling.”

“Forget it. Get her into a cab now. I’ll stay here and…clean things up.”

“Mr. Wolf,” I began, “thank you.”

Mr. Wolf produced a leery, weary wolfish grin. “No problem, kid. Take care. Inuyasha, go.”

And for cone, Inuyasha deigned to follow someone else’s orders. We stepped outside. A slight drizzle had started by now, dampening our clothes as soon as we escaped beyond the awning’s meager protection. Step, step, we walked together, Inuyasha holding me up barely as I was on the verge of fainting. The blood kept gushing from my chest; I tried not looking at it. It glared at me, red and mean, pooling around my pressed hand, this is what you do to stop the bleeding in an emergency. Cars zipped by us like busy, fat yellow bees. Their numbers, painted in glaring black letters, blurred like the fuzzy inky lines of swollen bees, gorged on pollen.

“Inuyasha…I’m really sorry. I’m pretty much fucking up your suit aren’t I?” I grinned stupidly, always making a joke out of dire situations.

“Don’t worry about it. Your dress ain’t looking so hot anymore either.”

“I know. I never liked this dress. But it does make my boobs pop. See?” I puff out my chest like a bird attracting a mate. The crimson splotch spreads, rivulets trickling down my ribs.

“Yeah, sure. Don’t do that anymore, you’ll just bleed more. Can you walk Rin?”

“Umm…I think so.”

I take a step and fall. He catches me at the last second and guides me carefully to an awaiting cab. The man inside honks, yells something profane, and Inuyasha retorts back expertly with another set of expletives.

“Okay, Rin, get in now. Careful, watch your head.”

I groan softly and ease my way inside, ducking, and sink into the vomit-smelling, beer-stained leather upholstery. Inuyasha slides in next to me and barks for the driver to move. Traffic had become so congested, patrol cars everywhere, people still running, desperate to see if a loved one has emerged unharmed. Somehow, our little cab squeezed past the million others, still moving at a snail’s pace but steadily charging towards the hospital. My dress was so soaked in blood now that the black silk has become a russet, burnished brown mess, sticky and reeking of coppery gunk. My hand was trembling so terribly that Inuyasha had to keep applying the pressure. Neck tense, vein throbbing, breathing becoming shallower, everything starting to gray out.

“Inuyasha. If I die, make sure there are no roses at my funeral.”

“You’re not going to die, Rin.”

“I know. I’m just saying,” I murmur, exhausted, before drifting into unconscious sleep.

…

“Shhh! You’ll wake her up, Souta!”

“Ouch Kagome! Quit hitting me, okay?”

“Then stop screaming and keep still!”

“Both of you, out.”

“Mama!”

“I’m not kidding, Souta, Kagome. Be quiet or get out.”

I tossed and turned, grabbing at the empty air. My head was about to explode, pumping blood out of every orifice. I sucked in breath, immediately regretting it. The white bandages on my chest began to bloom as fresh blood stained them.

“Ow. Kagome, Souta. Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine,” Kagome said, “Oh god, Rin. We thought you were going to die. You were in surgery for six hours. You took a shot right at the heart, nearly. Missed it by like an inch.”

“I’m okay. I think. Just hurts a lot. What happened?”

Souta sighed and brought me the cup of water lying by the bed. “Drink. I don’t know. I left, couldn’t stand that dumb stuff a second longer, Rin. Sorry. And Kagome followed me not much later. We were already outside when the panic began. We heard shouts from inside and then a bunch of people were running outside, screaming like crazy. We thought someone died.”

“Someone did die,” Kagome added grimly.

I shakily grabbed for her hand. She squeezed back firmly, holding it. “Who was it?” I whispered hoarsely.

“We’re not sure,” Kagome admitted, “Rin, I am so glad you’re okay. I—I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I—”

“It’s okay. Not your fault. So did they find out who did it? Like what the hell happened and why?”

Kagome shook her head adamantly, seething. “Not a clue. But err…they did think it was aimed at someone in our balcony.” Her stance shifted slightly.

“What” Mama shrieked, hands flying. I sensed a volcano of tears coming.

“Souta…take Mama outside, please. I need to tell Rin something in private.”

Souta grumbled about always having to find things out last but led our mother into the hallway. He knew better than to keep her there, which inevitably would lead to hysterics and much consolations on our part.

“Rin, listen to me carefully. Sesshoumaru thinks…he thinks that the killer was aiming at Inuyasha. And you got caught in the middle.”

“Inuyasha? But why?”

“We don’t know. But he was the one sitting next to you. And when the assailant noticed he shot you instead, he ceased direct fire. The rest of the rounds were merely used as scare tactics. He’s already killed someone else, and he wasn’t going to risk exposure. Also, your wound isn’t fatal for a reason. Something to this degree was done by a professional, someone who wouldn’t have missed usually. The police and theater security still don’t have any idea who was behind it. But when you shifted, Inuyasha tells me, he must have lost his mark.”

“So you’re telling me that someone just tried to assassinate Inuyasha? But why the hell would anyone wanna kill him? He’s just some high school kid. He’s not a multi-zillionaire, whatever. He’s not…oh god, Kagome. Do you think the target was actually Sesshoumaru? I mean, they look awfully alike and everything and…and.”

“No. We’ve ruled that out. If they were aiming at him, they would have fired a long time ago. But they purposely waited until most of us left. Meaning, they don’t want unnecessary casualties. Just Inuyasha.”

“That’s…that’s crazy. I think I need to lie down.”

“Okay. Try to sleep, Rin. I’ll be back. Oh, and Sesshoumaru will be coming here later too. He has….some questions he wants to ask.”

I groaned. This was going to be one hellish night.

I did manage to sleep some, rather deeply too. Around four fifty a.m., I woke up to a thumping outside my door. I tried to lift my body, to see what it was, but sharp ebbs of pain spread all across my chest extending to my shoulders and ribs. I grasped onto the hospital bed’s railing for support and raised myself into a slouched-sitting position. My neck hurt too much for agile movement, but if slowly turned, I could see the room clearly. It was a standard hospital room; I was thankful it was a private one. Two bouquets of lush flowers graced the spindly table across from the bed. A vile, bloody stench alerted me that my dress was stashed in a plastic bag on the floor, under the chair. Few sounds reverberated from the hallway except for the occasional teetering of a night nurse or the shuffling of an old man journeying to some recondite destination.

Abruptly, the light directly outside my door flickered on. I pushed back into the fluffed pillows, suppressing the desperate urge to retch. Muffled voices emerged. A hesitant female one, trying to assert her authority, but was intercepted by a lower, colder one. He silenced her immediately and entered quietly, letting a stream of soft light infiltrate the room. I shielded my eyes from the brightness, vacillating between feigning sleep or demanding who the hell this guy thought he was.

“I’m sorry, but…” I coughed out.

He walked right up to me, not speaking, stealthily, and hugged me. Close, tight. Like I was going to disappear any second now. My hands went limp, unable to reciprocate the gesture—as for me, I was completely lost for words.

“Umm…who…?”

Silver hair falls all over me like a sleek blanket of fine silken threads. Oh you. I instinctively reach up for the puppy-ears, only to find nothing.

“Sesshoumaru.”

He remained silent. I relaxed in his arms, both perplexed and feeling completely secure. He held me for another minute then released. I lean back against the pillows and watched his retreating back combine with the unsettling darkness. Too tired to ponder what just happened, I fell into sleep easily, not caring for once.

Tokyo, Japan: Present

Not entirely satisfied with our date, I insisted that Kouga let me take him to a bar, get him happy and drunk, so I can grill some answers out of him. He complies, only because he is cocky enough to think he has a stomach of steel and incapable of becoming inebriated. After a couple of Molotov coupled with good, old-fashioned sake, he was turning ruddier and slurring his words more (not that Kouga was ever the naturally florid type). And so, in a muted, dusty bar, I played innocent and sweet, beguiling him with my supposed charms. He was not fooled for a second.

“You know, I’ve only ever been shot two times in my life. I think that’s pretty phenomenal, don’t you think?” I said, sucking on a brackish, wrinkled olive.

“If you say so. Although, I think most people don’t get shot even once.”

“Well, that’s because they don’t know such charismatic, cavalier bad-boys like you around. Oh and my inscrutably sexy and intrepid husband.”

“Aren’t you at all afraid of me?”

“Kouga, we’ve been over this before. Why would I be afraid of you? Sure, you were the second person to shoot me, but that’s ancient history. And, as I recall, you said the last time: it was out of your hands. Not your decision at all.”

“Or maybe I’m just a damned good liar.”

“Nope. Otherwise, you would have persuaded Kagome to sleep with you by now. Don’t worry, I’ll never tell Ayame.”

“Stop bitching at me, Rin, what do you want anyway?”

“I’m a very straightforward and forthright girl.”’

He snorted in contempt.

I continued, letting the insult slide, “I want to know about the woman called Midoriko.”

Kouga stiffened considerably. He fumbled for a cigarette, which I happily supplied (I was getting close; I’ve never seen him so fidgety and uncomfortable).

“Rin, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb. I’m clueless but not that stupid. I heard Sesshoumaru mention her couple of times on the phone. Something about a jewel? Care to share, Mr. Wolf?”

“No.”

“Don’t be a spoilsport. I just want to know her relevance to me…to everything that has happened. I really wouldn’t mind if it turned out she and Sesshoumaru are having some sordid, steamy affair,”

He cringed. “It’s not….like that. Stop being so dirty, Rin.”

“Then what?”

“She’s…I can’t say.”

“Why not? Look, I won’t tell anyone about this conversation, if that’s what you’re worried about. I just want to know who she is.”

“She’s—was—a miko.”

“You mean like a shrine priestess? Like Kagome? Grandpa tried to get us to enroll into some program like that a couple years back.”

“No. I mean. She’s…I don’t know how to describe it. It was before my time.”

“Whoa. You mean she’s dead?”

“No. Wait, ah, forget it. Just forget what I said.”

“Come on, Mr. Wolf, spill the beans. Is she dead or is she alive? She can’t be, what, some kind of zombie.”

He looked at me darkly. “Maybe that’s what she is.”

“Ha-ha. Okay, stop it. So, let’s say that she’s dead, she was ‘before your time’. So what? Is that all? ‘Cause I highly doubt that.”

“Fuck, can’t you ever let things go, Rin?”

“Nope. It’s that stubborn streak of mine. Anyway, why is Sesshoumaru so hot for her?”

“She kind of…took something from him.”

“But she’s dead.”

“Yeah, and never returned it.”

“Okay. So he wants it back now? That’s understandable. But what does that have to do with me?”

“You’ll have to find that out for yourself.”

“That’s a trite line, Kouga. Then can you tell me what exactly this ‘thing’ is?”

“Nope.”

“I’m lamenting ever having hired you.”

“Sweetheart, that was up to your judgment. I said I’d talk, but I didn’t elaborate on what I can and cannot say. I’m trying to help you, Rin, I really am. But you have to understand, I can’t talk about certain things.”

“Fine, forget about the Mighty Midoriko. Why does Sesshoumaru keep refusing to give me a divorce?”

“Ask him yourself.”

“Damn it, Kouga, quit doing that. You think I haven’t asked him already? I’ve asked him like a million times, and never do I get a straight-up answer. That’s why you’re here, in case you forgot.”

“Well, then I can’t say. But, listen, Rin, I’m telling you this as a friend: you need to loosen up and let things go. All this hate, this bitterness, it’s not doing you any good. If you keep harboring it inside, it’ll just eat you up. And that ain’t gonna be pretty.”

“I’m bitter for a reason. A good reason.”

“I know, I know. Don’t snap my head off, god.”

“Sorry. So what can you tell me?”

“Not much. Except…do you remember an old man named Toutousai?”

“Yeah, the youkai.”

“Old as fuck and knows everything that’s happened since the dawn of time. If you’ve got questions, he’s your best bet. And he’s not so tied up in other matters as to keep quiet. If you can pay, he’ll speak.”

“Money, I’ve got.”

“I’m not talking about money. He’s old and talented, the last of his kind. And he’ll be needing some raw materials, his eyes aren’t what they used to be—so he says.”

“What kind of materials?”

“Raw bones peeled from youkai flesh.”

I winced. Shit. There was no way I could ever pull off a stunt like that.

“Come on, Rin, I’ll drive you home, and you can think all about how to accomplish your goal.”

Kouga’s sneering laugh resounded against the night sky as we gathered ourselves and left the bar. I pushed past old whores, drunk and drugged, and debauched patrons. My heels clicked along the pavement in a rapid, erratic staccato. Kouga called behind me, telling me to wait up. (I had tipped double and walked a steady half block ahead of him—damn, flashy car was parked three streets away—not in the mood for any inane comments or jokes.) He had given me a lot to think about.

Bones were a tricky subject and youkai bones even worse. Luckily, I knew just the person to pilfer them from.