The guards on the ramparts eyed Sesshoumaru warily as the young daiyoukai's dark, oppressive aura fell over them. The gatekeepers knew better than to attempt to deny him entry even after three years, and the main gates cranked open to permit him. Whispers echoed between the guards, and one scurried off to alert the General. Hands in his sleeves and head held high with noble entitlement, Sesshoumaru swept into the immaculately kept courtyard to await his receiving party. One of the General's attendants in their floral marigold garb soon appeared and bowed low to welcome him. She did not, however, prostrate herself in a full and formal bow, as Sesshoumaru was used to seeing, and he quirked a delicate brow just so at the female.

 ‘Father’, he thought, ‘are you still so displeased that I am to be treated with such a lack of respect?’

“Esteemed Lord Sesshoumaru, your presence honors this place.” The female began, and Sesshoumaru could find no hint of insincerity in her tone. “To what grace do we owe this visit?”

The young prince tilted his chin up to emphasize his higher standing. “You will arrange an audience with my father, female. I shall await him on the third-floor terrace.”

He was about to step away when she replied.

“I will pass the message along to him. However, that honorable one has been quite busy as of late. There may be a delay in his meeting with you.” Again, her tone was perfectly polite.

Sesshoumaru’s jyaki flared with momentary rage at the implication that his father would delay in seeing his own son. “I will await him on the terrace,” he reiterated through gritted teeth, and he stepped away before the female could say anything more.

The young daiyoukai recalled his last conversation with his father clearly, and smirked to himself as he settled in to wait. Surely, he thought, the General would appear quickly to deal with this Sesshoumaru; but the prince found himself disappointed as morning brightened into afternoon, and then faded into evening. Finally, as the first stars began peeking through the ultramarine sky, the General arrived in a leisurely state donning his evening kimono.

“Sesshoumaru.” Touga greeted his decadent pup with an impatient tone, tucking his arms into his sleeves.

Sesshoumaru closed his eyes for a moment to force his irritation at being made to wait for hours on end to pass before responding. “Good evening, chichi-ue.” He nodded his head respectfully. “It has been some time.”

“Why is it that you have returned to this place in such an assuming manner? Did I not make myself clear when last we spoke?” Touga demanded.

“Father did make his stance very clear,” Sesshoumaru said bitterly, “which is why this Sesshoumaru presents himself as a ‘guest’.” He could hardly speak the word, as insincere as it was.

“’Guest’.” The General repeated, disbelieving. “Guests do not demand an audience of their host and then trespass further into their very home. You still have learned nothing of decorum.” Touga growled. “Why have you returned?”

Sesshoumaru ran the caustic words over his tongue once or twice before speaking. “I humbly seek father’s expertise in combat. Being the son of a great general places many expectations upon my person, and I seek to exceed them.”

Touga stared at his pup for a long moment, fangs grinding together as the two males stared each other down. “…I will train you, Sesshoumaru,” the General finally answered, “in the art of combat; but also in the arts of conversation, consideration, propriety, and politics. One does not come without the rest. You must agree to this, or else return swiftly to the forest you have claimed as your own.”

Sesshoumaru’s eyes narrowed as he continued to stare his father down, but the older demon gave not an inch. He was adamant, and Sesshoumaru knew nothing could make him budge. Finally, the young prince answered.

“As you wish, chichi-ue.” His tone was biting even as he bowed his head appropriately.

Touga pursed his lips. “…I will allow you to stay in what used to be your quarters here for the time being-as a guest-, but know this: I cannot promise that any of my vassals will choose to tend to you, and I will assign you none. You may well be left to your own devices. Either way, you will make no trouble while you are here. For anyone. Good evening.” The Inu no Taishou spoke with a lethal finality before ducking his way back inside his castle and disappearing.

No servants? Not one? Left to himself in this place like a lowly commoner? And to be so flippantly dismissed and disrespected! Sesshoumaru stared at the doorway his father had passed through for several long minutes, choking down his bubbling rage and disbelief. He forced himself to calm, smoothing a stray lock of hair back into place with a soft ‘hmph’, and made his way down through the stories of the castle toward his former quarters.

Despite his father’s decree, Sesshoumaru expected to see Aoki or Kazawa around the next corner, waiting to fall into line behind him. At each turn, however, he found himself disappointed. Standing before the elegantly painted shouji doors, he was alone. None had come to tend to him, only started and quickly deferred to his passing. Sliding open the doors to his quarters for himself was like grinding salt into the wound his father had left, as was what he found within.

The rooms were dark and seemingly abandoned. The cushions, tables, and other everyday items he recalled having been here were missing. At first, he assumed they were simply tucked away to await use, however as he ventured deeper he found the personal items he had left behind were also missing. Had they been moved elsewhere? Or perhaps…discarded? Sesshoumaru felt another wave of anger begin to rise, coupled by a rush of fantastically vindictive suppositions, but he entertained them with only a soft chuckle. If this was the game his father wished to play, then Sesshoumaru would acquiesce.

He made his way to the wooden door which led to the veranda outside and slid it smoothly open. The evening breeze filled his room, clearing away the stagnant scents. Out of habit, he analyzed each one as they passed. Bamboo, cotton, lacquer, iron, and…something else. He drew a slow, deep breath, focusing on the odd smell. While he recognized it, he could not place from where, and his attempts to pinpoint its source turned up nothing. Something about it repulsed him, but before he could discern why, the ‘tink’ing of stoneware distracted him.

Someone was at the entrance to his wing.

            The soft tapping of claws on wood came from just outside the tatami room, and haughty satisfaction swelled in his chest. ‘It must be Aoki. Hmph. And father said none would tend to me.’  Confidant in his supposition, he strode into the tatami room and settled himself regally in the spot he had once favored.

            “Enter,” he said smoothly. But the satisfaction he felt ran cold in his veins as the door slid open to reveal not the blue-eyed veteran, but the tufted ears of the hanyou creature. He now knew why that odd metallic scent had repulsed him so; it belonged to this disgraceful being. His lips curled into a scowl as he realized what it meant. That…thing…frequented his rooms in his absence. Indignation coiled tightly in his chest as he watched the creature bow and pour him a cup of tea.

             “You…” Sesshoumaru growled, and it flinched, “Why are you here?”

It kept its eyes fixed on the tray it brought in. “This one brings refreshments for the honored guest of the General, and hopes the young prince finds the accommodations to his liking. Should he require anything, he has but to ask.” It bowed once more as though to demonstrate its sincerity.

Sesshoumaru could not even begin to process the scene in which he found himself, and he spoke with a furious calm. “Get. Out.”

It did not scurry away from him, despite its blatant fear, but instead excused itself calmly and departed.

Sesshoumaru found no satisfaction in his solitude, and stared blankly at the steaming tea before him. This was not at all how he had expected to be received or treated. It was only after he laid himself down for the night that he realized the hanyou had not been wearing his slate grey uniform, but rather something akin to what he remembered seeing Rekkonji’s trainees wear. His mind scrambled to make sense of the day’s events-from his arrival until now-, but the only thing he found he could conclude with confidence was that his father was already up to something.

Back in her chosen closet for the week, Kuroihi shuddered. While the tempering she’d gone through during these last three years of training with Rekkonji’s recruits kept her from trembling to the core, she could not completely resist Sesshoumaru’s overwhelming influence. Still, as strange as it felt, she was proud of herself. She hadn’t faltered during the encounter even once!

As she laid herself down for sleep, the wheels in her head began to turn. She had over-heard the General’s earlier discussion with Fuyutoka to extend Sesshoumaru only the most basic of hospitalities, meaning the prince would have to fend for himself. There was an opportunity there for her, if she chose to seize it; but was she so daring as that? Foolish enough?

Nearly the entire castle-base held its breath as the next few days passed slowly. Touga had commanded his son to cause no trouble, but hadn’t passed that word on to the other denizens. For all they knew, the prince’s former reign of terror would begin anew, and none desired to be anywhere near him. Aoki and Kazawa especially breathed sighs of relief when they realized they would not be repurposed, and both chuckled between themselves knowing that asshole would finally get what was coming to him.

As the days melted into weeks and months, Kuroihi continued to consider and to plot. She watched as Sesshoumaru’s displeasure grew into a mockery of his forced independence, then edged toward acceptance. If she still understood her former master as well as she thought she did, it would be quite some time before he sank into full resignation of his circumstances. It would be during that transitional period that she would have to act, and carefully. If Sesshoumaru even suspected what she was going to do, her entire plan would fail. There would be no damage to her reputation if it did, but that would make things more difficult for her in the long run; and her life was still hard enough as was.