The Path of Pins | By : girltype Category: InuYasha > General Views: 7418 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story. |
I feel I must in some way make a mark up here for my
Internet soul mate… MoonliteCrescndo.
You’re so very nifty…if we could only be on at the same time.
Bri: I hope you hear more from this too.
Youkai Tsuki: See I’m not good with that whole fun
summary thing, so I was proud of that feeble sad thing.
As you can see reviews are worshipped and adored…and quite
literally fawned over.
~
Some power there is that draws men's eyes up and outward,
beyond the heavy clay that fastens them to earth. Music can take them, and the
moon's light, and, I suppose, love.
-Mary
Stewart, “The Last Enchantment”
~
Despite what many have said behind
their hands, I did not train to become a courtesan immediately.
Life in my new home settled quickly
into its own rhythm. There were several
of us children, two others then myself.
A boy and a girl. Kohaku was
slight and dark, with a quick smile and a flair for mischief. Taken from a
village of demon slayers not long before I was bought, he got along with few
save myself. Kanna was fragile and
soft spoken, with manners like exquisite china. Her hair was the palest purple and she was a demon with a
fondness for mirrors that I didn’t understand until much later in our
lives.
She did not grow as Kohaku and
myself; years after I had grown into womanhood she was still small and
young.
But she was not the only demon that
shared my life. Kagura, the woman who
had been so kind to me my first moments in my new home, was our teacher and a
demon. We learned, at her instruction,
the rudiments of knowledge; poetry, song and playing, how to pour wine and
serve at a table as pretty adornments.
We learned obedience and how to be invisible.
“What do you do?” I asked one day,
after an hour of kneeling in one place on stone floors.
“What?” She asked with the air of
long suffering.
Kohaku spoke up next to me, “demons
all do something. We wanted to know
what you do.” Kanna said nothing but
watched out teacher raptly.
Kagura sighed pursing bright red
lips, “I control the winds.”
“Winds?” I asked softly, watching
her even as I kept my head bowed.
With a quick nod and a smile she
brought out a fan, elaborate designs of flowers and birds gracing the thin
paper. “Like so.” She turned and with a
flick of her wrist raised a gust of wind that came together into shinning
blades that flew through the air and shattered a vase of flowers.
We watched with open mouths as she folded
the fan that looked so delicate and placed back into her obi. She looked slowly from face to face before
smiling. “May we get back to our
lesson?” When none of us spoke she went
on. “Kagome, demonstrate for us the
proper way to approach a table to serve drink.”
Used to kneeling for hours I rose
with fluid grace and lifted a pitcher from the floor and did as I was
told.
In a time when reading was
uncommon, and for a woman unheard of, I had knowledge poured on me.
The library, I was told, was rivaled
only by Lord Inutaisho’s library, the
Great Lord of the Western Lands. Much
of my time free time was spent making my way through legends and
histories. I sighed with pleasure as
himes fell in love and were rescued from the evil clutches of so and so, and
read with puzzled delight as I figured out the how’s and why’s brilliant
military tacticians conquered other peoples.
To this day the smell of ink and old parchment means home.
As I made my way through the scrolls Naraku watched me with an indulgent
eye; helping me when a passage was too much for the understanding of a nine
year old, directing me to scrolls that might interest me, and buying me
presents of newer tales with pictures lovingly drawn and colored.
The free time not spent in the library was spent with Kohaku and Kanna
stealing pastries from the kitchens, making grand palaces in the forest and
ruling over frogs and daisies, and crowning dogs with wreaths of flowers. I was always passing fond of dogs. All this done with the abandonment of youth
not caring what would come next in our lives.
Trusting that nothing bad could ever happen to us.
All told Naraku was like our father
and Kagura, despite an obvious distaste for him, was our mother.
I grew quickly as is the wont of
children shooting up and slowly, so slowly, filling out. As Naraku had each of us learn tumbling and
dancing I lost baby fat for the soft tone of muscle.
On my fifteenth birthday Naraku
decided that the next stage of my training should commence. Kagura would teach me the theories behind my
profession, all taking place in the classroom and not the bedchamber. My virgin price would be too high to waste
on such things.
My first lesson began thus, “You
will hear many people say hurtful things.”
Kagura began without preamble.
“You will be called names, it is not pleasant but it is true.” She knelt
before me, sitting gracefully on her heels.
“Humans and some youkai are stupid in that way. Never believe them. Whore you might be
called but you are a courtesan and there is honor in the trade.” I watched with wide eyes as she brushed a
strand of ebony hair behind my ear, “I
will not force you to this, you will never be any good if you find the work
distasteful. Will you learn what I have
to teach you?”
I knew what she spoke of, I was
fifteen and I was taught to watch the world around me, though I did not
understand the mechanics or much else I knew what it was she wanted me to
learn.
More importantly I knew what it was
to desire, I was half in love with Kohaku anyway. So swallowing I nodded and cleared my throat. “Yes, I will learn.”
She was careful, so very careful
that I would never feel shame for what I was to become. I was Kami’s creature and beautiful and he
loved me no matter what I was. A lesson
that always stood me in good stead.
It was a kindness I have ever been
grateful for.
With my answer the true lessons
began and I was introduced to a part of the library I’d never been allowed in
before, my main text was erotic poetry and literature. You might laugh but people write that which
they enjoy.
So I learned the body, the points
of pleasure and points of pain, sometimes the two coincided. And by the time I was fifteen I was
knowledgeable in the arts of passion and itching to paint my masterpieces on
flesh with hands and lips and tongue.
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