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Once Kuroihi finally returned to the castle-base, she found Sesshoumaru wandering the finely tended grove beyond the walls. At first, he paid her no mind as she bowed and stood demurely behind him, keeping a wary distance between them. Sleep pulled heavily on her eyelids, and she swayed slightly. Sesshoumaru either did not notice or did not care, plucking a broad green leaf from a choice branch and twirling it between his fingers. His claws glowed bright venomous green, slowly dissolving the leaf in their noxious fumes as a slight smile pulled at his lips.

 

Was he trying to make a point? The calculating look he gave her convinced her that he was. The glint in his honey gold eyes set her on edge, chilling her to the bone and slicing through her fog of fatigue. Their interactions in the forest flashed through her mind, and she resisted the urge to retreat from him as her inner demon recoiled with fear.

 

“The events of this evening are not to be spoken of,” he said. His voice was barely a whisper, and she had to strain her ears to hear him. “And you are forbidden from employing any of your meager demonic talents without my express command. Am I in anyway misunderstood?”

 

“Your servant understands completely, my lord,” she replied, voice just as soft as his.

 

He hummed to himself for a moment-perhaps questioning her comprehension-before waving a hand to dismiss her. Kuroihi bowed once more and took her leave of him.

 

She slipped and ducked her way back inside the walls, through the halls, and into her tiny closet unseen. The look on Sesshoumaru’s face was still etched in her mind. She stared at the shadows inside the storage room beyond the closet’s paper door, flinching at every imagined shift. Eventually, weariness overcame paranoia and she slipped into a fitful sleep. She found no respite in that darkness, however; even her dreams were bedeviled by those wicked golden eyes.

 

Kuroihi woke feeling drained, barely managing to drag herself up and out to meet Kazawa and Aoki as was her habit now. She was hesitant to leave the safety of her closet and attend the prince, but knew it was a greater danger to incite his displeasure by being absent. Thankfully, Sesshoumaru did not single her out again that night, or for the next several nights.

 

When he finally did, she found her youki had recovered completely.

 

Could he sense it, she wondered? Had he purposefully waited? As she had grown to expect, she could glean no insight from his stoic mask as he led the way once again to the depths of the pine forest.

 

 

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Sesshoumaru’s eyes were dark in the humid gloom of the moonless summer night. Despite the lack of illumination, he was easily able to navigate his way to the same small clearing in the forest where he had examined the hanyou’s power several nights earlier. The thing followed awkwardly along behind him, and he lounged comfortably on the same flat rock as before by the time it caught up.

 

Unlike Sesshoumaru, Kuroihi’s half-demon sight was impeded by the thick dark of the forest, and she had to depend on her other senses to find her way. His breathing and heart beat were imperceptible to her, but tangy trail of his scent was impossible to miss. The air pressed in around her as she made her way through the trees, lifting to signal she had entered the clearing. She would have walked right into him if not for the sudden flash of his eyes.

 

Red bled into the white, shining angry sanguine and honey gold in the darkness. Kuroihi recognized the reaction; it was what demons did when their feral natures began boiling to the surface.  She quickly put several steps between them, bowing her head demurely.

 

The young daiyoukai contemplated the regrettable creature before him. It cannot perceive me, he thought. Perhaps it is more dependent on its sight than I had originally considered. How disgustingly human-like... No matter.

 

“Make your fire,” he commanded.

 

Kuroihi tensed. She should have anticipated this. Those red eyes narrowed at her as she hesitated, and she was suddenly hyper-aware of her every minor fidget. He was scrutinizing her, she could feel it. She had to ignore it, to ignore him. Cupping her hands at her navel, she tried to focus.

 

Heat rose in her veins and she urged her youki to pool in her palms. It seeped through her skin, coiling around her fingers and itching to ignite. Sweat beaded along her forehead as she struggled. Finally, a spark, and the dark flames engulfed her hands. Their sable light cast tenebrous shadows across her face and through the trees, making her yellow eyes sheen. They lasted only a moment or two before sputtering out.

 

Hands on her knees, Kuroihi panted softly from the strain. Through her bangs, she saw Sesshoumaru’s red eyes glower at her, unimpressed.

 

“Again,” he growled.

 

Kuroihi groaned internally. It had been difficult enough to conjure them the first time, and she’d never tried doing it twice in quick succession before. She had no idea if she would be able to, or how long they would last. Sesshoumaru tilted his head impatiently, a gesture she knew was dangerous for her, and it was clear that she had no choice but to try.

 

Unsurprisingly, the attempt failed. Sesshoumaru blinked at her slowly, seeming bored.

 

“My lord, please, if I may only rest for a moment,” she ventured cautiously.

 

He sneered at her. “This lacking constitution of yours is annoying. Though, what more can be expected from a mere half-breed?”

 

Something in the tone of his voice needled at her. Fuyutoka, the few other servants that saw her, even Aoki and Kazawa: their heckling she had grown to ignore. But Sesshoumaru’s words cut through her. She quickly squashed the rising irritation. It would do her no good here.

 

Kuroihi cupped her hands again and focused, scrounging up as much energy as she could. The sweat on her brow sizzled away in a rising heat she hardly felt. With great effort, the flames sparked to life. They danced for a few moments, flared, and then died again. She barely managed to keep her knees from buckling as she slowly caught her breath.

 

 

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“Again,” Sesshoumaru ordered.

 

He watched the hanyou square its shoulders, bracing against the strain as it attempted to obey. His heightened senses watched its youki thrash and fizzle, so quickly and ineffectually spent.

 

“Are you completely incapable of mitigating your energy? Even a feeble creature such as yourself should be able to manage such an elementary skill.”

 

The sable flames sparked once more, engulfing the hanyou’s hands for a single angry moment before burning out. Completely drained, it fell to its knees, trembling hands in its lap. Sesshoumaru was still not satisfied, but it was clear he would get little if anything out of his servant this evening. Scoffing, he rose smoothly and meandered his way out of the forest.

 

As he made the trek back to the base, he began to wonder if the creature stumbling along behind him would ever prove itself worth the effort he had put into acquiring it.

 

 

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Many miles south of the castle-base ran a long mountain range covered in thick forests. It served well to define the southern edge of the enormous Shinano Province-what the demons considered the Western Territory where the Inu no Taishou reigned- and the Suruga and Toutomi Provinces, which were part of the Southern Territory. The edge of the forests stopped abruptly at the foot of the mountains, opening into vast fields and plains of thick grasses, shrubs, and wildflowers.

 

All was muted in the dark of the night, barely illuminated by the pale light of a waning crescent moon. Hidden just inside the forest line and untouched by the pearly hues, the Warmaster Rekkonji waited for his scouts to meet him. They’d had well over a month to complete the task he’d assigned them, and the general was growing anxious for an answer. As the moon began to sink toward the horizon, they arrived.

 

The small group of demons clad in various basic armors and camouflaging colors came to kneel before the Warmaster, their leader the only one to raise his head to address the elder demon.

 

“Report,” Rekkonji commanded, arms crossed impatiently.

 

“Honored one, we traveled south into the territory you indicated, combing through it and the areas surrounding it. While we were able to locate the underground fortress you described, we found no trace of the creature you asked us to find.”

 

“I see. What was the state of the fortress?”

 

“Cold and dead,” the scout replied. “We found only thick cobwebs and the small temporary nests of lesser demons and spirits in and around the place.”

 

“And in the depths of the fortress?” Rekkonji pressed.

 

“Also empty, sir, with no traces of the strange fire you mentioned.”

 

Rekkonji stroked thoughtfully at his goatee for a moment, ruby eyes fixed on some distant point in the sloping forest. Dead, cold, and empty… Had that one been there recently enough for Sesshoumaru to encounter, the fortress would not have been found in such a state. This is good news.

 

The scouts remained knelt, motionless, awaiting his word.

 

“This mission is nonexistent,” Rekkonji said. “Am I understood?”

 

“Yes, sir,” the demons replied in unison.

 

Rekkonji grunted. “You’re dismissed for a three-day respite. Report to the base afterward for further assignment.”

 

Again, a chorus of affirmation, but none dared to move until Rekkonji departed.

 

With a mighty leap, he took to the sky, slipping into the clouds to release the human-like guise all greater demons capable of shape-shifting maintained. His limbs lengthened and shifted, ears crawling up to perk atop his head, ruby eyes blazing red with demonic might as he shook off the last tingles of the transformation. Rekkonji’s natural jackal form was about half the size of the castle-base and little more than a tawny phantom as he sprinted across the sky to return to the general.

 

Back at the castle-base, Rekkonji resumed his human-like form, joining the Inu no Taishou on the uppermost patio of the castle. The elder dog scrutinized his jackal companion silently, his marigold eyes sharp. Rekkonji simply shook his head, answering the unspoken question as he closed to a whispering distance.

 

“There is nothing, then,” the general said under his breath.

 

“I feel confident we can attribute the young prince’s musings to an over-active imagination, my lord,” Rekkonji replied in a similar manner.

 

“Nn. I trust your judgment and the dependability of your scouts, so that is what we will do. Let us instead turn our attention toward the eastern border near Kai Province.” The general spoke at a normal volume now. “I’ve received word that some of the greater spirits there are being needlessly harassed by the local wolf tribe.”

 

“Tch. Brigands. Have they nothing better to do with their time?”

 

“It appears they do not. I will be leaving soon to investigate. Such behavior will not be tolerated in my territory.”

 

“Perhaps there is a new alpha and they have conveniently forgotten to whom the tribe owes fealty.”

 

“If that is the case, they will be made to remember,” the general growled.

 

Rekkonji smirked as he glanced over to his jackal friend. “I trust you and Fuyutoka will be able to handle things here while I am away.”

 

“As always; though you’ll forgive me, of course, if I find need to teach that pup of yours a lesson.”

 

The general chuckled heartily. “Please, do. I fear he has grown some-what debased; I am often too lenient with him.”

 

“The fault is not entirely yours. He has as much of his fickle and head-strong mother in him as he does your honorable self.”

 

“True. However, his upbringing is my responsibility. He is a reflection of me.”

 

Rekkonji patted the general’s shoulder, careful of his spiked shoulder guards. “He is still young. Every warrior endures a phase of pride and, unlike most, Sesshoumaru walks in the heavy shadow of his mighty sire. He will rise to meet the challenge of that with grace and grow into wisdom, as you desire.”

 

The general nodded. “Perhaps...he only requires a good opportunity in which to grow.”

 

Rekkonji gave him an encouraging expression.

 

The daiyoukai considered for a moment more and nodded again. “I will go to see for myself the situation near the eastern border; however I will send Sesshoumaru to handle it. Let us how he approaches a challenge not physical, but social.”

 

The jackal suppressed a chuckle. “That will be interesting.”

 

 

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The final days of summer were upon them, and none-too-soon for Kuroihi’s liking. The heat of the day clung like a bubble around the castle-base with the wind offering no relief. The sun was sinking into the west as she made her way to the higher level of the castle where a series of drying lines were fastened. The opposite ends stretched to the top of one of the corner yagura towers, a simple pulley system allowing the lines to be rotated and the dried clothes brought within reach.

 

From one of these, Kuroihi carefully removed a series of yukata and kimono belonging to Sesshoumaru. The young daiyoukai was adamant about allowing only his personal attendants to handle his clothing, convinced of the inferiority of the other servants. Having worked around them for nearly all her life, Kuroihi couldn’t say she blamed him.

 

She folded each piece meticulously, set it neatly aside, and pulled down the next until she had a tall stack. Arms laden with clean garments, the half-demon made her way down to the lower level of his wing. She was tucking the sun-scented clothes into their closet when she heard it: footsteps and the clinking of armor coming down the hallway that led to the main castle.

 

Strange, I thought Lord Sesshoumaru was in his quarters. No one else wears their armor inside except-

 

A chill ran down her spine and she quickly padded to the entrance of the hall, ears perked to have a better listen. At the other end of the hall, a servant donned in floral and marigold came around the corner, striding toward her. Behind them, a long, bold shadow crawled its way along the polished floor as the being in armor approached.

 

Kuroihi straightened to greet the general’s servant, offering them an appropriate bow in greeting. The servant gave her a quick, questioning examination before returning her gesture, though their bow was shallower than Kuroihi’s. It was only fitting; she was of a lower rank.

 

“Please inform the Lord Sesshoumaru that his honorable father, the lord general, seeks an audience with him.”

 

“Immediately,” Kuroihi responded, and she pulled away to slip quietly inside Sesshoumaru’s quarters.

 

He was indeed where she thought he would be: lounging in the tatami room with a scroll spread across the low table. He paid her no mind as she entered. Knelt closer to the door, Aoki shot her an irritated glance. It gave Kuroihi pause, but she could hear the general’s continued approach. She had no time for Aoki’s games. She knelt next to the older female, head ducked submissively as she spoke.

 

“Please forgive my interruption, my lord. Your honorable father is presently seeking an audience with you.”

 

Sesshoumaru’s pointed ears twitched visibly, and he shot an icy glare at the door to his quarters. “Is that so…”

 

Aoki shifted quickly, fetching a spare zabuton cushion and setting it across from Sesshoumaru, who began rolling the scroll up to set aside.  There was a soft rapping at the door frame moments later, and Kuroihi gave the room a quick glance. Finding it ready, she knelt by the door, sliding it open to welcome the general and his single attendant.

 

 

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Sesshoumaru continued to glower until a moment before his father’s entry. The male was encroaching on Sesshoumaru’s privacy once again, something the young daiyoukai absolutely loathed.It was considered proper, and Sesshoumaru’s preference, for the general to summon Sesshoumaru to meet him in a neutral location; yet here he was in Sesshoumaru’s private quarters. Again.

 

The general’s long mokomoko cloak flicked out from under him on its own as he settled himself comfortably on the cushion across from his son, plated armor clinking. The young daiyoukai offered his father an appropriate bow, which the general answered with a nod. The attendant in marigold joined Aoki and Kuroihi to kneel to the side of the two greater demons.

 

“Good afternoon, chichi-ue. To what do I owe the honor of your presence?” Sesshoumaru’s voice was airy, lips drawn into a tight line.

 

The general frowned. “Always so brusque; can you not spare even a moment of conversation for your father? As I recall, your mother taught you that art.”

 

Sesshoumaru tilted his head, considering. “Forgive me, Father. I presumed you came here on a matter of some significance. I wished only to tend to that matter as soon as possible. I intended no disrespect.”

 

“Hn.”

 

Kuroihi dared to peek through her bangs at the pair as they fell silent. At first glance, the two were near-mirror images of each other; ivory hair, golden eyes, bold markings across alabaster skin and strong jaw lines. Even their postures were similar: straight backs and squared shoulders giving each an air of regality and grace. Once the initial impression wore off however, the differences were painfully clear to see.

 

Sesshoumaru’s presence filled the room with a stifling weight that made the air around him prickle. He was frigid and tense, like a bow string overdrawn to the point of snapping. The general, on the other hand, was tranquil and warm, carrying with him the wisdom of his many centuries. His presence was enormous, dwarfing Sesshoumaru’s, and negating his son’s suffocating tension.

 

With him nearby, both Aoki and Kuroihi found it much easier to breathe, and they were remiss to see him depart when his conversation with Sesshoumaru concluded.

 

The younger daiyouki’s face twisted again into a venomous glower, fixed on the cushion his father had occupied moments before. Neither servant dared to move lest they draw his ire.

Are you testing me, father, by assigning me this task? Will you now rush to the aide of every insignificant sprite? Sesshoumaru thought.

 

He sneered for a moment, disgusted by his father’s bleeding heart. As far as he was concerned, the wolves in the east the general had tasked him with investigating and reprimanding were only behaving in a natural manner. He did however understand the need for his father’s will to be enforced, even if he did not agree with it.

 

“Aoki,” he said softly, and the female flinched.

 

“My lord?”

 

“Have my armor and weapons readied. I am leaving.”

 

She bowed and slipped away to comply.

 

Sesshoumaru’s gaze fell on the lingering half-demon. With both Kazawa and Aoki gone, only it remained to tend to his needs. He required his hair to be braided, but the thought of the creature touching him made his skin crawl.

 

“You.” Its tufted ears perked attentively. “Prepare my traveling boots.” With a quick bow, it also slipped off to obey.

 

He would manage his hair himself this time.

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