InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ In a Different Light ❯ The Heart of a Woman ( Chapter 2 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Author's Note: This chapter takes place at the same time as chapter 1.


In a Different Light

Chapter 2: The Heart of a Woman

Rin was tired.

And as she made her way through the forest down the moonlit path to the campsite of her three traveling companions, one thought weighed more heavily on her mind than her pack did on her shoulders. Would he be able to smell him on her? He being her Lord Sesshomaru and him being Taro, the young man she'd met in the village.

She hadn't meant for anything to happen, and it had all started off so innocently. She'd been singing to some of the village children in the field, and after their parents had called them in to go home, and she was about to go home, herself, he approached her. He'd introduced himself as Taro, and she'd been polite and told him her name was Rin. He then talked about the weather and the harvest and how important it was to glean the fields before the cold season set in, and several other things she had very little interest in.

He'd then asked if she was new in the village, and where she was from and where she was staying. She didn't exactly feel comfortable telling him she was traveling with the demon Lord of the Western Lands and his retainer and pet dragon. And it wasn't that she was ashamed of them; it was simply that most humans had a great fear of, and very little tolerance for demons of any kind. And if they knew one was staying in their midst, they might do something foolish like trying to kill it or run it off . . . Of course, if they went after her lord, they would be the ones to run off . . . if he let them.

A sly smile crossed her lips. Yes, her lord was quite fearsome and terrible. But she could remember a time when he'd sat still for nearly an hour while she'd practiced braiding his hair. She hadn't been very good at the time, so she'd left plenty of knots and tangles in his hair, and when he'd seen the final result . . .

She covered her mouth and stifled a laugh.

Her lord had been quite angry at the final result. He didn't yell at her, or scream at her and call her bad names, as Jakken was apt to do. He'd simply glared at her, then stormed out of the room to undo the mess she'd made. He looked so silly with such a stricken expression on his face. For a man as old as he to get so upset because his hair wasn't just-so.

She laughed again. Perhaps she'd inherited her temper from him . . . Not that she saw him as a father figure, or a blood relation of any type. He was like . . . the cute friend of your older brother, who'd never give you the time of day. That silky silver hair and those glistening amber eyes . . . Just thinking about him made her . . .

Stop it, Rin. She halted in her tracks and scolded herself. If you get yourself all worked up, he'll smell it. And his nose could get you in enough trouble as is . . . That boy. Taro.

She began walking again, shifting the weight of her pack on her shoulders. Yes, humans were none too fond of demons, so she'd glossed over the truth. She'd said she was traveling with a group of friends, and they'd become separated. But in case of said separation, they were to meet at the outskirts of town at sundown, and then they could continue on their way.

Taro seemed saddened by this news and told her it was a shame she couldn't stick around longer because of the fall harvest festival they were having next week. There would be feasting and dancing and music, and he swore to her she'd have a fabulous time. But, as much fun as she probably would've had, her lord was waiting for her, and she couldn't imagine that he'd want to hang around for an extra week just so she could go to some silly festival. "I can't stay," she'd said.

"Well, that's really too bad," he'd replied. "Especially with you being such an excellent singer. I'm sure everyone would've liked to hear you sing."

She'd smiled politely, acknowledging his compliment, but again declined.

He'd then edged a little closer, spoke a little lower, keeping his gaze even with hers. "Would it help if I extended you a personal invitation?"

She was caught so off guard that she nearly tipped over, and she blushed a brilliant shade of scarlet as she struggled to stay upright . . . She was certainly used to the appraising glances of the men in the villages she'd passed through, mainly due to the finery her lord dressed her in, as opposed to her natural, physical beauty. And, she'd even had a few of them approach her and make small talk, or give her flowers or free food of some type. But none of them had ever propositioned her.

"Is that a 'yes?'" he'd asked hopefully.

"No," she shook her head. "I'm really sorry, but I really have to leave tonight."

"Oh," he said, "well if you're not leaving till tonight, I insist that you have dinner with me."

"Dinner?" she said meekly.

"Well, I don't know where you've been staying while you've been here, but I can guarantee their cooking is nowhere near as good as mine."

"Dinner?" she repeated again. The food at the inn was horrible, and she was hungry. And she wasn't at all in the mood to hunt something down once she'd returned to camp.

"Yes, dinner. Fish, vegetables, rice . . . Nothing fancy, but it's sure to fill you up."

Her lord had warned her about the wiles of men and the dangers of walking alone in the woods at night and talking to strangers . . . But, she was armed, and she was hungry. And if Taro tried to rape her, she'd simply slit his throat.

But he hadn't tried to rape her. He was very amicable and gentlemanly the entire time she was in his hut. He'd washed up, then he'd prepared their meal, and then they had sat and talked.

She'd never spoken with her lord as she'd spoken with Taro. In fact, she and her lord seemed to be growing more distant as the years passed. As she developed her own interests, she had less and less interest in following him around the castle, shadowing his every move. She could only imagine how annoying that must have been for him. To have her toddling after his every step. To sit when he sat. To sleep when he slept. To drink her tea when he drank his tea.

She sighed inwardly. She knew how annoying Jakken had been when he followed her around, picking up after her as he went. Sticking his nose where it didn't belong. Making loud noises and inappropriate comments when silence was preferable . . . You felt as if you never had any privacy, any time to yourself, not a moment of peace . . .

She felt the sting of tears in her eyes. She must have crowded her lord terribly. And, now, they had less and less to say to each other unless it was about her safety, or a trip he had to take, or her menstrual cycle . . . She hated those talks. It was such a personal thing to talk about with such an impersonal man. It was as if he knew her every secret, and she knew next to nothing about him.

"I am certain neither of us wants any . . . accidents to occur during that 'time of the month,' as you call it," her lord had said.

She scoffed. As if the only way he'd sleep with her was on accident . . . But, he'd made it quite clear that if he ever exhibited any seeming attraction to her, it was solely because of her cycle. And for that reason, during her time of the month, she was to stay in her room behind closed doors, so as not to arouse any of the male servants. Her lord had even gone through the trouble of obtaining sacred sutras, so she could seal herself in her chambers, warding off any potential demon suitors thus preventing any accidents from occurring.

She sighed again. If her cycle caused so many problems, why hadn't he simply sent her off when she'd come of age? . . . Not that she would've wanted to go, but it just gave rise to false hopes.

Being so close to him and not being able to have him . . . Loving him, knowing that he could never, would never, love her back . . . And knowing that he could sense her arousal, that he could smell her excitement, that he knew what effect he had on her, and still he did nothing... It was almost unbearable.

It was humiliating and shameful.

Yes, she had become accustomed to her new body-the breasts, the blood, the broad hips. But she still had very little control of her feelings. Whenever she saw him . . . whenever he came close to her . . . whenever he looked at her . . . there was only one thing she could think of... And it had very little to do with drinking tea or braiding hair. Though . . .

She drew in a deep breath and pushed it out, a wry smile crossing her lips.

Though, the thought of touching him again was quite appealing. It had literally been years since she'd allowed herself that particular pleasure. It used to be that she was constantly showering him with hugs and kisses and flowers and praise . . . But, such things weren't appropriate behavior for a young lady, and as Sesshomaru had such a keen nose, if she gave him even the briefest of hugs or the most chaste of kisses, he'd know what she was up to almost immediately . . . She had very little control of herself when it came to him. And, as his nose knew every nuance of her scent, it was better to avoid him entirely than endure his raised eyebrow and his lopsided grin.

He knew he could have her any moment he wanted to, and he seemed so amused by the thought that . . .

She again stopped on the trail; this time taking a moment to hug herself, fighting off the bitter chill in the night air, and the growing ache in her chest. She just didn't understand.

Why was she going back to him? And what was she going back to?

More awkwardness and silence and stares? More warnings and wardings and wistful sighs? More shame and humiliation and unfulfilled desires? More of the same that she'd been going through for the past few years?

Why? Why should she do that to herself? She was tired of being toyed with.

She should just turn around and go back to the village, go back to Taro. At least he needed her. He'd said as much. He'd been orphaned at a relatively early age, and he'd been living on his own since he was 11. He was 19, now, two years older than she was. He had his own hut, and he could cook and hunt and tend the fields. He was open and honest and friendly. He laughed when she laughed; smiled when she smiled. And he looked at her with genuine affection, even though they'd only known each other the one day . . . or, rather, a few hours of that day.

Somehow, during their conversation, they'd stumbled across the topic of relationships. She'd said she had no experience with men and wasn't sure if she ever would. She'd said they were too confusing and obtuse. You never knew what they were thinking. And even when you thought you did, you often found out that you were wrong and ended up feeling like a fool.

He'd said that he'd had limited experiences with women, but he'd been looking for a wife for awhile. Unfortunately, few of the village girls' families would give him a chance because he was so young and had no family to speak of. "What would happen if you couldn't support her?" they'd asked him. He'd explained that he was a good hunter and fisher, and though he didn't have much in the way of possessions, he'd treat their daughter like a queen. He'd never let anyone harm her, and he'd never leave her lonely.

And at that point, to her own dismay, she'd burst into tears. She'd wept like a newborn babe and COULDN'T stop until Taro had put a comforting arm around her and pulled her to him, letting her cry quite freely in the coarse cotton that covered his chest.

"What's wrong, Rin?"

"I don't know," she'd said.

"Well, it has to be something. People don't cry for no reason."

She knew. She knew what was wrong. But it didn't make any sense. And the more she thought about, the more she cried.

"Are you hurt?" he'd asked her. "Are you in pain?"

"No, I'm just . . . It's just . . ."

"Rin?"

"Can you . . . can you just-hold me a little while longer?"

He nodded. "Of course, but--"

She squeezed him so tightly it felt as if his ribs would break.

"That's quite a grip you've got."

"I'm sorry." It had been so long since she'd touched someone, since someone had touched her . . .

"No, no," he'd said. "It's all right. You haven't done anything wrong."

She continued to cry, and he continued to comfort her.

"Do you wanna tell me what's really wrong?" he'd asked.

"I'm lonely," she'd whispered.

"Lonely?" he'd laughed. "What about your friends? Your traveling companions?"

"It's . . . complicated," she'd finally said.

"How complicated can it be? You're unhappy because you miss them," he'd said.

"I'm unhappy when they're not around. And I'm even more unhappy when they are around."

He chuckled uneasily. "That doesn't make much sense. How can you be unhappy when your friends are there? "

"I don't know," she'd said. "I just am."

"Maybe they're not very good friends, then."

Rin shrugged. "I don't think they know very much about friendship. I think I'm the only friend they have."

"That's very sad, then."

She nodded. "It is."

He cleared his throat. "Do they treat you well? These friends of yours?"

"Most of the time."

He seemed to stiffen somewhat. "Whatta you mean 'most of the time?'"

"Well . . . sometimes they hurt my feelings without really meaning to."

"Oh?"

"I mean, I realize they're being logical. And they have good reasons for doing things the way they do, but . . ."

"But what?"

"I just wish things could be different. I wish I didn't have to feel so . . . isolated."

"Isolated?"

She nodded again. "It wouldn't make any sense to you if I explained it, so . . ." She sighed and pulled away from him, scrubbing her face with her fists.

"All better, now?"

She nodded weakly and yawned. "I'm just tired, now."

"Well, you could stay here tonight if you wanted . . . I mean, not here, not with me. Just in the village. Get some rest and leave to find your friends in the morning. I'm sure they'll wait for you, and it's hard to make a long journey when you're so obviously tired."

She stood and shook her head. "It's not that long. And I'm not so sure they'd wait." She dusted off the bottom of her kimono. "I'm just gonna go to the inn, get my bag and be on my way."

He stood and walked her to the door. "I really wish you'd stay," he said. "Especially since you don't look too happy to be going."

She shook her head and stepped out into the night. "Some people are just destined to be unhappy, I guess."

"I could make you happy," he stood on the stoop of his hut. "Stay here," he said. "We wouldn't have to get married right away, or at all if you didn't like. We could take our time, get to know each other . . . I could make you happy. We could make each other happy."

"You're proposing," she laughed.

He nodded solemnly.

"You just met me. You barely know me."

"A man knows from the moment he lays eyes on a woman what his intentions are towards her. You would make an excellent wife, Rin, and an even better mother. I saw you with the children. They really took to you."

She smiled to herself. She did like kids. She did want kids. But . . .

"I could make you happy, Rin. Just give me a chance and let me try."

"I . . ."

He sighed heavily. "You think I'm being too forward."

"No, well . . . yes, but . . ."

"You're tired of being lonely, aren't you?"

She looked away from him, off towards the forest, deep into the distance. "I'm sorry I made such a nuisance of myself, Taro. Dinner was lovely, and you're a very nice man, but . . ."

"You miss your friends," he concluded.

She nodded. Truth be known, if she'd never met her lord, if she'd never ran into the wolves, if she were able to grow and mature within the confines of her own village, she probably would've married someone very much like Taro . . . But that was neither here nor there. Things were what they were, and you couldn't change that.

He smiled sadly to himself. "I knew you were too good for me," he'd said. "But you can't blame a man for trying."

"No," she'd said. "I can't blame a man for trying . . . but I'm beginning to hate a certain man for not trying." Then she'd left him and made her way to camp.

And now she was here. Alone in the woods, wandering blindly down a moonlight path to . . . She didn't even know any more.

She drew in a deep breath and pushed it out. He can smell tears, too, she reminded herself. The last thing you want when you see him is the third degree. You'll have enough problems trying to explain away Taro's scent . . . Though why he cared was beyond her.

It wasn't as if they were mates, as if they'd ever be mates. He'd made it abundantly clear on more than one occasion that he didn't want any accidents happening . . . So he really didn't have any claims on her. He didn't own her. They weren't married. So, if she wanted to cry on some strange man's shoulder, that was completely within her rights. And if he gave her a hard time about it, well, she'd just tell him to go fuck himself.

She laughed to herself. What would he say if she said just that?

It certainly wasn't very lady-like or respectful, but . . . dammit! He was driving her crazy! It just wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that he had such a keen nose and such sharp eyes that he noticed every little change in her. It wasn't fair that she couldn't even fantasize about him . . . If she did, he'd know, and then he'd give her one of those looks-that "I know what you're thinking, and it's not going to happen" look . . . Of course, he hadn't given her one of those looks in awhile, a year or two, but that was mainly because she spent so much time avoiding him. And though it had been awhile, she still she remembered what it looked like, and she remembered how it had made her feel.

Dirty.

She swore and kicked out the ground beneath her. Why couldn't he just mate her! It didn't have to be anything permanent, anything lasting. At this point, she just wanted to get it out of her system, so she could think of something else. If he'd just take her then . . . Then she'd probably want him to take her again. And again. And again and again and again.

She could feel her face flush. This was bad. Very, very bad.

Behave yourself, Rin. You are not an animal, so stop thinking like one. You don't want to give him an excuse to get rid of you, do you?

Of course not . . . Sure, things are a little uncomfortable now, but that doesn't mean they won't get better. Eventually, your hormones will settle down, and you won't be so excitable and . . . She sighed again. But it wasn't just hormones. It wasn't just her body . . . It was her heart, her soul, every thought she had, every breath she took, every fabric of her being . . . She loved him with everything she was, and everything she ever would be. She . . . was hopeless.

But . . . if it was just hormones, then things would eventually settle down between them. And then she and her lord could sit down and have nice little talks like she did with Taro. Maybe he'd even change his mind about her . . . Maybe he would want her. Maybe he would love her. Maybe he'd realize that humans weren't so bad, and half-demons were perfectly acceptable. Maybe . . .

She laughed to herself. Yeah, and maybe Jakken will skewer himself on the Staff of Heads.

She smiled and continued on her way. She was hopeless, and it was hopeless. As she had told Taro, she was just destined to be unhappy . . . But if she had to choose between being unhappy with him or being unhappy without him, the choice was simple.

Her smile grew. It was as Taro had said, "A man knows from the moment he lays eyes on a woman what his intentions are towards her." And it was much the same way for her. As small as she was back then, she knew the moment she saw Sesshomaru spread out beneath that sakura tree that she wanted to be his . . . in whatever capacity.

If he needed a follower, she would follow him. If he needed a servant, she would serve him. If he needed a friend, she would be friendly with him. And if, when she grew older, he had other needs of her . . . she would gladly see that those needs were met as well.

She blushed scarlet and chuckled lightly to herself. By the gods, she was hopeless.

She needed to focus. She needed to keep her eyes on the path, her pack on her back and her mind on returning to the campsite. Once she returned, she could get some sleep and then in the morning, they'd head out again. Two more weeks and they'd be back at the castle and . . . "Dammit!" She tripped over an exposed root and spilled onto the ground, her pack hitting her in the back of the head. "Could I be any more clumsy? I thought that phase was over."

She drew her knees up and tried to push herself to a standing position. "Ow!" She sat back down and rubbed her right ankle. It didn't feel broken, but it really hurt. She removed one of the obis from her pack and wrapped it around her foot. Well, she thought, that should keep it from swelling. The easiest thing to do would be to call for her lord, but . . . that would mean he'd have to touch her, carry her in all likelihood. And as pleasant a thought as that was ...

She sighed deeply. No. Touching him was a bad idea. The whole "dirty" scenario replayed itself in her mind.

She'd make it back to the campsite on her own two legs under her own power . . . No matter how long it was going to take. She hoisted herself to her feet, brushed the dried leaves off her kimono, and hobbled towards the campsite. By the gods, she was a glutton for punishment.

* * *

By the time their campsite finally came into view, the full moon hung low to the horizon, and she knew she was much later than she should've been. But at least she had a good excuse now. She limped the remaining few feet to the dying campfire, over the Staff of Heads, past the snoring Ah-Un and slid to a seated position at the base of a magnolia tree. She pulled off her pack and sighed. What she really wanted was a nice cup of hot tea, something to warm up her insides and fight off the growing chill situating itself in her bones.

She poked at the fire and tried to get it going again. Her Lord Sesshomaru was nowhere in sight. For a brief moment, she considered calling out for him, but as Jakken and Ah-Un seemed to be sleeping so soundly, she didn't want to wake them. So if she really wanted to find him, she'd have to get up and search.

She shifted her weight to her left foot and forced herself to stand. Why was she even doing this? She should just stay here and wait till he came back.

She sighed and followed a seeming path through the forest underbrush. It seemed that someone had been through there recently, and her lord did like his solitude . . . As to why she was doing this, why she was seeking him out when it would've been so much simpler to stay put . . . She didn't want him to worry. She'd always told him when she was coming and going, not that he restricted her movements; he just simply liked to know. And if she tried to duck out without a word, he always found her within a matter of minutes.

In fact, she could hear him now. "Do not run off, Rin," he'd said. "You never know what could happen to you."

And she'd nodded and bowed without a question.

Yes, that's why she'd refused Taro. She'd promised her lord she'd never run off. And she never would.

She found Sesshomaru sitting on a fallen tree trunk, a few feet from the original site, his face shrouded in shadow from the overhead branches. He seemed quite serious, his amber eyes focused on some point in front of him, his mouth drawn into a thin line, his right hand clasped about his left shoulder. For a fleeting moment, she thought she shouldn't disturb him, especially since he didn't seem to notice her approach. But she did come all this way, on a sprained ankle, no less . . .

She took a deep breath and stepped into the clearing. "My lord?"

He glanced over at her. "Rin . . ."