Adult-FanFiction.org : Inuyasha / Yashahime

In a Different Light	By : theMaven Category: InuYasha > General Views: 12680 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 29
- 30
- 31
Author’s Note: Let me apologize ahead of time for the ridiculously long chapter. How long is
it? Fifty-five pages in MS Word. I could’ve split it into two chapters, but I really think it’s
more effective as one. And don’t fret. This ISN’T the last chapter, and the next one won’t be
nearly this long. This chapter’s called “Grief,” and the next one is called “Comfort.” And, if
you have to ask, their relationship will be consummated next chapter ^ ^
Thanks in advance for reading and reviewing, and I hope I don’t disappoint,
theMaven :)
                                                        In a Different Light
                                                         Chapter 28: Grief
            Rin reluctantly watched from the second story balcony as her lord left to patrol the
borders once again. She solemnly stood wrapped in her red robes, overlooking the garden and
stables at the rear of the estate as Ah-Un took to the murky, bluish-gray skies, Sesshomaru and
Jakken saddled upon him. Rin sighed and pushed her windswept hair back from her face,
Bokuseno’s magnolia bloom still tucked within her tresses. Surprisingly enough, it hadn’t wilted
at all in the two days she’d had it. It was still just as white, just as bright, just as vibrant as ever,
but even it failed to lift her heavy spirits. It was silly really. She knew they wouldn’t be gone
long–four days at the most–but considering all the time they’d spent together over the past three
months, in general, and the past two weeks, in specific, she couldn’t help feel a little lonely.
            Yes, there were the servants in the castle, who were friendly enough and duly respectful
towards her. And, of course, there was Master Li and Master Sumida, but . . . It just wasn’t the
same.
            She slumped forward against the railing, crossing her arms over the balustrade. Just
three short months ago, they’d all set out from the castle together, laden down with supplies,
their itinerary settled, their paths sure, securing the borders of the Western Lands their primary
goal. And so, they’d set off again much the same way, leaving one of their party behind. She
knew it was for the best in terms of time and her own safety, but . . . She’d been so happy when
Sesshomaru asked her along this time. It had been years since she’d traveled with them, and
though she enjoyed the break and she enjoyed the time to see to her own pursuits . . . There was
just something about being with those three that couldn’t compare to anything else.
            Ah-Un was docile and friendly, an excellent mount and protector. Jakken was crotchety
and cranky, self-important and self-involved . . . But who would she have talked to in those early
years if not for him? And he was good for a laugh every now and then–tripping and falling,
bumping into things, and she never tired of watching him grovel at Sesshomaru’s feet. The little
toad was often funniest when he was at his most serious. And then there was her lord . . .
            She sighed again, keeping her eyes on the skies, watching as the two-headed dragon and
its two passengers grew smaller and smaller and at last disappeared into a gray embankment of
clouds.
            Snow, Rin thought as an early winter wind whipped through her hair. The air was crisp
and cold, the sun hazy and dull as it peaked over the horizon, its brilliance obscured by thick,
gray clouds as the bitter wind blew dried leaves across the landscape . . . Could there be more
perfect weather for sitting in front of the fire, wrapped in the arm of the one you love, sipping a
cup of tea, sharing a moment of silence as a winter storm rages away outside?
            She sighed yet again. Gods, she was getting pathetic. He’d barely been gone 10 minutes,
and she was already mooning over him. But how could she help it? After their reunion from
their forced separation, she spent the next two days practically glued to his side. They traveled
even at night, and she only slept about four hours a day. The first day, they’d stopped after
traveling three hours from Bokuseno’s grove. She wouldn’t let Sesshomaru move around much,
so she sent Jakken out to hunt for them while she tended to his wound and groomed his hair.
Conversation was limited, but the company was good. She was with her mate, after all, so how
could anything be wrong?
            Sesshomaru and she alone in a clearing amidst a secluded grove–dawn about to break, a
roaring fire to keep them warm, Jakken and Ah-Un stationed close enough to protect them, but
far enough away so as not to disturb them . . . Her lord was, of course, too injured to attempt
anything too strenuous at that time, but it was nice just to be able to sleep beside him again.
            On the second day, Sesshomaru was decidedly more active. They slept together, woke
up together, sat together, ate together . . . bathed together. And when they began traveling again,
he let her sit in front of him on Ah-Un.
            She laughed softly to herself, her cheeks going slightly red. As his body completely
blocked her from Jakken’s view, he took ample advantage of the opportunity to reacquaint
himself with her clothed form.
            Her smile grew. His touches were so distracting at some points that if he hadn’t been
holding on to her, she would’ve fallen out of the saddle . . . and that wouldn’t have been good.
            Who would’ve thought her lord would be so . . . frisky?
            Not that she complained.
            “Hold on to the reins tightly and keep your eyes focused straight ahead.”
            She drew in a deep breath and pushed it out, the cold mid-morning air burning her lungs
and adding additional color to her cheeks. She could still feel the heat of his breath as it blew
across her outer ear and along the left side of her face.
            “And why should I do that?” she asked.
            He slid the reins into her hand and gripped her around the waist, pulling her backside
against his pelvis. “Because it is what I desire.”
            When she’d felt that familiar hardness brushing against her backside, she knew she was
going to be in for quite a ride.
            “Four days,” he whispered. “Once we return you to the castle, it will be four days
before we see each other again.” He ran his hand along her outer thigh. “I merely wish to have
something to remember you by.”
            After she got over the initial shock and embarrassment of his proposal, she settled back
against him and gave herself over to him completely. Keeping her eyes straight ahead helped
her keep her balance, and gripping the reins occupied her hands. With the rushing wind to
drown out her stifled moans and Sesshomaru’s whispered words of passion and devotion, Jakken
was completely clueless as to what was going on, literally, in front of his face.
            It was actually quite thrilling, she smiled to herself. But . . . as soon as it began, it
seemed that it was over. They soon broke through the castle’s protective barrier, Ah-Un set
them down in the rear of the estate, and then her lord commanded her inside the castle . . . which
brought her to where she was now–cold, alone and unfulfilled.
            “Little sister.”
            Rin turned to see Master Sumida standing in the doorway leading back onto the second
story landing. Instead of her normal black training uniform, she was dressed from head-to-toe in
white in an unadorned kimono and obi. Her straight black hair was pulled back into a high
ponytail with a simple, white ribbon. Her normally bronze complexion seemed somewhat pale
and her black eyes seemed vacant and . . . tired.
            “Master Sumida,” she brought her hands into prayer position and bowed. “Is . . .
everything all right?”
            She inclined her head slightly forward and gave a slight smile. “All is as it should be. I
didn’t wish to intrude, but Rei said you had returned, and Master Li has been asking for you.”
            “Master Li?”
            The older female nodded, her features solemn, her eyes betraying nothing.
            “Okay,” Rin nodded. “Let’s go see him then.” She cast one departing look to the skies,
then stepped back inside with Master Sumida onto the second story landing.
            There were three levels to the castle. The main entrance was on the first level. The large
hardwood doors swung open into a spacious vestibule, complete with cushioned benches.
Straight through the vestibule was the Great Hall and access to everything else on the first level;
on either side of the vestibule was a staircase. The staircase on the right led to the second
landing; the one on the left led to the third floor. The first level consisted of the Great Hall, the
Dining Hall, the kitchen, den, armory, bathhouse and servants’ quarters. The second level was
divided into four wings–North, South, East and West. Rin and Sesshomaru shared the North
Wing, as it housed their individual bedrooms, Sesshomaru’s study and Rin’s sitting room. The
South Wing was reserved for visiting nobles and their families. The East Wing contained
Master Sumida’s quarters, the dojo and Sesshomaru’s private armory. The West Wing held the
second-level balcony. If you looked straight down from the landing, you could see the Great
Hall with its high-backed throne, handwoven tapestries, grand fireplace, velvet-lined settees, and
various pedestals and tables that held fine porcelain vases and some of the planters Master
Sumida and she had made.
            The entire third level of the castle was dedicated as library space. It housed shelves upon
shelves of books and scrolls from centuries ago, containing knowledge on math, history (both
human and demon), literature, astrology, philosophy and medicine; odes, haiku and epic poetry,
adventures and romances; assorted spells, curses and enchantments; diaries, journals and letters
from Sesshomaru’s ancestors; land maps, battle plans, deeds and military appointments. Rin had
most of her lessons in the library, and Sesshomaru claimed to have read every, single article
shelved on the third level.
            Rin and Master Sumida were currently on their way past the South Wing, paintings of
past lords and ladies of the West adorning the walls, as they headed towards the staircase leading
down to the first level. “So,” Rin began, “Rei told you I was here.”
            Master Sumida nodded. “She said you were in a bit of a hurry.”
            Rin nodded sheepishly. “I’m afraid I was a little rude to her. I was in such a hurry to get
up to the balcony and watch him leave, my greeting was a little abrupt. I kind of . . . threw my
dirty clothes at her and ran up to the West Wing.”
            “I see. Then your travels went well?”
            Rin smiled. “Very well. We . . . I mean, my lord and I came to an understanding.”
            The older woman quirked a knowing eyebrow at her student. “An understanding? What
type of understanding can two such as you come to?”
            “A very amicable one,” Rin grinned. “He’s decided to take me as his mate, and I’ve
decided to accept.”
            Master Sumida gave her a gentle smile. “That is . . . wonderful news, little sister. I am
sure the two of you will be very . . . happy together and you’ll be blessed with many, strong sons
and beautiful, eloquent daughters.”
            Rin detected a slight . . . quaver in her master’s normally smooth voice. “Something is
wrong. What is it?”
            The master nodded. “There is something you need to know, though I think Master Li
would prefer to inform you himself.”
            Rin frowned. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
            They headed down the artfully-carved wooden staircase.
            “Nothing is ‘wrong,’ little sister. It’s simply time that Master Li moves on.”
            “Moves on?” she repeated. “He’s leaving? Where’s he going? Doesn’t he want to teach
me anymore?”
            The master cracked a slight smile. “I am sure that if Master Li had his way, he would
never leave your side, and he would gladly spend the rest of eternity instructing you in his
ways.”
            “Then why is he leaving?” she asked, impossibly puzzled.
            Her smile faded, her dark eyes clouding over. “Humans do not have eternity, little sister.
Master Li is dying.”
            “D-dying?” she sputtered out. “But he’s so . . . full of life. He’s always moving around,
working in his garden, walking in the forest, teaching me new techniques. He’s . . .”
            “He’s 83 years old, Rin.”
            Her heart stopped. “That old?” Rin asked. “I thought he was only 60.”
            The master nodded. “He is in excellent shape for a man his age. But, despite his
spiritual strength, his body is old and tired, and it’s finally beginning to give out on him. He’s
been steadily weakening over the past few months.”
            “Just since we left?” she asked.
            “No,” the master replied. “Even longer than that.”
            “Is he sick?” she asked. “Is he dying from some sort of illness?”
            “No,” Master Sumida said softly. “His body is . . . simply incapable of supporting him
for much longer. As of yesterday, he was still capable of moving around with some assistance.
This morning he . . . I had to help him sit up in bed this morning. He told me he was too weak to
stand at all, and he . . . apologized for not being able to accompany me on our usual morning
walk through the woods.”
            Rin nodded, her heart growing heavy with understanding. She then raised an eyebrow at
her yogi master as she pulled open the front door. “‘Usual’ morning walk through the woods?”
she questioned. “You two usually spend your mornings training me.”
            “True,” she agreed. “But when you left to travel with Lord Sesshomaru that left our
mornings free. The two of us being the only foreigners in the castle, we thought we should stick
together in our lord’s absence.”
            “The two of you have been here for years,” Rin reminded her. “There’s no reason you
shouldn’t feel safe in the castle even when our lord is away.”
            “It’s not a matter of safety; it’s a matter of comfort, little sister. I know I’m quite
welcome within these walls, having been a close friend with Lady Sora, but I will never feel as
comfortable here as I do in my homeland or even when I go walking in the forest. And Master
Li feels the same way . . . There’s simply something about being with your own kind.”
            “And what is your kind?” Rin asked.
            “I mean no offense, little sister.”
            “Well, I should hope not. Master Li is just as human as I am.”
            “I am aware of that, little sister. He is human, and you are human. But while he refuses
to step foot in the castle and barricades himself in his dojo surrounded by sutras, you are quite
comfortable walking around the complex just as you are.”
            “Why shouldn’t I be?” Rin asked. “I’ve spent most of my life here. I know all the
servants by name. I like and respect them, and they treat me the same way.”
            “Because they are your kind,” the master concluded. “Even though you are human and
they are youkai, you feel at ease with them, at peace.”
            “This is my home.”
            “But this is not my true home, nor is it Master Li’s. It doesn’t matter if I‘m in a palace
full of demons or a village full of humans. As long as I’m in Japan, I will feel out of place. My
soul knows this isn’t where I belong . . . But, having another here who shares my feelings is a
comfort.”
            Rin frowned. “You’re going to leave, too, aren’t you? After Master Li passes, you’re
going to ask my lord if you can go home. Back to the mountains in Tibet.”
            “I have thought about it,” the demon nodded. “But it seems unfair to abandon you when
we both seem to have become so fond of each other.”
            “Fond?” Rin repeated. “You said ‘fond’ and not ‘attached.’”
            “Is there something wrong with that?”
            “No,” Rin shook her head. “Not at all. It’s just not something I’m used to hearing.”
            They made their way down the stone pathway on the front lawn; it was flanked by tall
hedges on either side that led to the front gate.
            The master nodded. “It can be like that living in a castle full of demons. We’re not
exactly the most forthcoming creatures when it comes to our feelings.” She turned her head and
caught her young student’s gaze. “We do get better with age, though.”
            Rin laughed to herself, again turning her eyes skyward. “It looks as if it’s going to
snow.”
            “It is going to snow.”
            Rin sighed. “The first snow of the season and he’s off patrolling the borders.”
            Master Sumida gave her a seemingly sad smile. “At least you know he’ll be back.”
            What’s this? Rin wondered. Could it be that Master Sumida is missing somebody, too?
            She shook the thought from her head. No. She told me two years ago when we were
talking about males and boys and the like that there was only one male she’d felt anything other
than lust for . . . and she was forever denied his company. Which meant that he had died, right?
            They passed through the main gate and headed for Master Li’s dojo, 100 yards to the
right. It was a single story building with a pitched roof, built especially for Master Li in order to
train Rin. There was an herb and vegetable garden along the side of the building and a
meditation garden in the rear. He absolutely refused to step foot on the castle grounds and
protected his personal space with a holy barrier. Master Sumida had mentioned on more than
one occasion that Master Li abhorred all demons equally, regardless of sex, status or general
disposition. He had only agreed to come here and instruct the young girl in order to repay a life
debt to Master Sumida. Rin never asked the specifics of how Master Sumida saved Master Li’s
life, and Master Sumida never volunteered the information.
            Rin could only assume it made for a tense situation, considering their statuses, powers
and their divergent philosophies on human/demon relationships. Master Li had always assumed
Rin was just a favored human servant in the castle, and as that was close enough to what she
perceived her relationship with Sesshomaru as being, she’d never bothered to add or detract from
his assumption. He taught her unarmed self defense because that’s what he was hired to do, but
he began training her with the sword in hopes of aiding her eventual escape. He was always
concerned about her safety and had tried to slip her a sacred sutra every now then.
            “You never know what those males are thinking,” he’d told her, pressing one into the
palm of her hand. “You’re still innocent, now, but once one of those fiends sets his sights on
you, you’re doomed. Post one of these on your doorframe, and at least you’ll be protected while
you sleep.”
            She’d laughed at the Master’s warnings, not out of disrespect, but because they were so
similar to what Sesshomaru had told her. Especially the sutras . . . And they both thought
humans and demons were so different.
            She was so engrossed in her own thoughts that she nearly failed to notice that Master
Sumida passed through Master Li’s barrier unaffected. “Master?” she raised a questioning
eyebrow at her youkai companion.
            “Master Li’s body no longer has the ability to support the mystic barrier. I think it’s
quite miraculous he’s managed to survive this long in his current shape.” She slid the door open
and stepped inside the small vestibule. Directly ahead was the workout room separated from the
main entrance by a torchlit hallway. Down the hallway to the left were Master Li’s quarters.
            Due to the heavy cloud cover outside, the dojo’s interior was somewhat dim, the
torchlight reflected against the rice paper walls, giving the dwelling an eerie yellow-orangish
glow. They journeyed down the corridor to the open doorway at the end of the hall.
            Master Sumida placed a hand on her shoulder. “Wait here, little sister.”
            Rin nodded as the older woman disappeared into Master Li’s chamber. From her vantage
point, she couldn’t see Master Li or the overhead lantern that was obviously shedding a halo of
white light on the oak floorboards, keeping the orangish tinge that had infected the rest of the
dojo to the outskirts of the room.
            “Ah, Sumida, you’ve returned.”
            Rin smiled to herself. It sounded like her Master Li–just as calm, just as practiced, just
as sage, whimsical and light . . . It was odd to hear someone call Master Sumida just by her
name. Even Sesshomaru called her “Master.”
            “Where else would you expect me to be?” she asked, an obvious smile in her voice. “I
promised I would always be here for you, and here I am.”
            She couldn’t see their faces, but Rin knew how she would feel if someone expressed such
a sentiment to her. And her instincts seemed to be correct when nothing but silence came from
the room in front of her . . . Which begged the question: what kind of relationship did Master
Sumida have with Master Li?
            Yes, they were both masters of their respective disciplines, and Master Li somehow
incurred a life debt to Master Sumida some time in the past . . . But what did that all mean?
Especially with Master Sumida’s declaration and Master Li’s seeming acceptance of what Rin
would call “heartfelt” words.
            “Our prize pupil has finally returned, Shen.”
            Shen? Rin wondered. Was that Master Li’s first name?
            “My Jade Cricket?” Master Li beamed. “Where is she?”
            “Little sister,” Master Sumida called, “come in.”
            Rin took a deep breath and swallowed, unsure of exactly what she’d be seeing when she
walked into the room.
            “Ah, come in,” she heard Master Li call out.
            She stepped into the medium-sized, rectangular room and turned towards the direction of
the voice. As she suspected there was a large lantern hanging from the ceiling, creating a circle
of candlelight on the floor. The room was twice as long as it was wide and had no furnishings
save for a futon and a stack of seat cushions. There, in the back corner of the room, Master Li
sat up in the white bed dressings of his futon, his back propped up against the left wall of the
room; Master Sumida sat by his side, her legs folded beneath her.
            Master Li looked the same, just the way she’d left him three months ago. He had the
same dark eyes; the same bald spot at the top of his head, and the same long, gray braid trailing
down his back. His skin wasn’t what she’d call wrinkled; it just sagged along his cheeks and
beneath his chin. There were a few lines around his eyes, but she’d always attributed them to his
excessive laughter and infectious good humor . . . No doubt when she was older, she’d have very
similar lines about her eyes. Seeing him sitting there and knowing what type of man he was, she
didn’t see the fine lines so much as a product of aging, as proof of a life well lived and much
enjoyed. And with Sesshomaru by her side, how could her life be anything but?
            Master Li simply didn’t look 83.
            “Come sit by me,” Master Li urged.
            She pulled a white cushion from the stack along the wall, tucked her legs beneath her and
sat down as she pulled her two swords from her sash and set them by her side.
            “A new sword?” Master Li asked.
            Rin nodded. “My lord gave it to me.”
            “Gave?” the master repeated. “As in a gift?”
            Rin nodded again. “Yes. He likes to give me things.”
            “Child, there is only one reason a male youkai would give a human female anything.
He’s trying to buy you–either your cooperation or your silence. Either he wants to bed you, and
he’s hoping the gifts will sway you to his favor, or he has bedded you, and he hopes the gifts
will help you keep silent about the matter.”
            Rin frowned, both indignation and embarrassment coloring her cheeks.
            “This is the lord of the castle we’re talking about, isn’t it? It simply wouldn’t do if it was
known he’d taken a liking to one of his human servants . . . Is he trying to turn you into a harlot,
girl? To excuse his own base behavior? Come now, you can tell me. I know you’re a good girl,
and you’ll always do the right thing.”
            “Master Li,” Rin began with forced politeness.
            “Shen,” Master Sumida said gently, “Lord Sesshomaru wants to take Rin as his mate, and
she has accepted.”
            “Preposterous,” he half-laughed, half-coughed. “Such relationships are abominable . . .
regardless of the individuals involved. Humans and demons are not meant to be together in that
capacity. It goes against everything on heaven and earth. You’re a human. Have you forgotten
that?”
            “No,” Rin replied. “I haven’t.”
            “Then if you haven’t forgotten, you know what it means to be human–what a burden,
what a blessing, what a responsibility. And you can’t simply . . . shirk that responsibility
because you wish things were otherwise. Demons were only sent to torment us and distract us
and keep us from the true way of the Tao.”
            Master Sumida scoffed. “Don’t you listen to him, little sister. He’s just an old man
who’s too engrossed in his old ways to realize that his way of looking at things isn’t necessarily
the right one.”
            “This way of thinking has served me well my entire life, and I will not turn my back on it
in my last days. My little Cricket, you would do well to remember this master’s words: the only
thing gained from that type of relationship with a demon is loss.”
            “Loss?” Rin repeated.
            “Loss of conscience, loss of decency, loss of balance. It is so easy to lose yourself, to
forget yourself when in their presence . . . They lead you on a path different from your own, and
you can’t help but follow.”
            “Nonsense,” Master Sumida said. “Only the weak would truly renounce their will to
follow another whose beliefs are in strict opposition to theirs. And, Shen, I sense not a weak
soul in this room.”
            “The child is young, easily led astray.”
            “Rin is quite clever and knows her own heart very well. She’s not ashamed of her
feelings and doesn’t seek to hide them behind her humanity.”
            “She is free to do so. She is but the human servant of a demon lord, and though I shudder
to think of it, she probably lost her way long ago.”
            Master Sumida scoffed.
            “But despite that, she’s still a good girl and has quite a bit of natural talent. I, on the
other hand, am a Taoist monk. I do not live for myself; it is my job, my purpose to serve
humanity and help steer them towards the proper path.” His dark eyes to seemed to focus on
Master Sumida. “I cannot guide others if I allow myself to become lost.”
            “Who?” the demon demanded. “Who is there for you to guide here? Rin is your only
student, and you’ve just determined she’s already ‘lost’ and seemingly set on staying that way.”
            Just what was going on here? Rin wondered.
            “I haven’t lost her yet,” the old master insisted. “He hasn’t marked you yet, has he?”
            “No,” Rin replied. “Not yet.”
            “But you want him to, don’t you? You want the world to know there’s no one else you
want to spend the rest of your life with, correct?”
            She simply nodded.
            “You put words in her mouth,” Master Li laughed lightly.
            “If they weren’t true, she could refute them.”
            But what did that all mean? Especially with Master Sumida’s declaration and Master
Li’s seeming acceptance of what Rin would call “heartfelt” words.
            If there was one thing Rin learned in terms of communicating with Sesshomaru, it was
silence equals acquiescence. If you didn’t speak up and say something was wrong, then
everything must be all right.
            “I have never known the child to disagree with a word anyone has said. How do we
know she truly desires this demon ‘lord?’ Perhaps he’s forcing himself upon her and she simply
doesn’t have the heart to tell him ‘no.’ She is quite kindhearted, you know, and demons are
nothing more than physical embodiments of loss, pain, and despair . . . She pities the poor
creature, and so she lets him do what he will. Even though she knows how wrong it truly is.”
            Master Sumida stood. “Excuse me.” She turned on her heels and left the room.
            “That’s not true,” Rin said. “What you said–it’s not true. My lord would never force
himself on anyone, least of all me. If he ‘took’ anything it’s because it was freely offered. And
why’re you saying such mean things to Master Sumida? I’ve never heard you be so deliberately
. . . rude to anyone in the two years I’ve known you.
            “Master Sumida is my friend and teacher. My lord is . . . more to me than I can name.
And every demon in that castle has done everything within his or her abilities to make me feel at
home.”
            “Mean?” the master repeated. “You think I’m being ‘mean’ to Sumida?”
            Rin nodded, her hands still in her lap, but a frown etched on her face.
            “‘Nature is not kind,’ my little Cricket. ‘It treats all things impartially. The Sage is not
kind, and treats all people impartially.’”
            “What?”
            “I cannot favor one person over another. I can only comment on things as I see them.
And as for your demon companions, my Jade Cricket, I fear they are deceiving you,” Master Li
concluded. “They care nothing for you; they simply obey their lord and master.”
            “Then I should be thankful he cares so much for my comfort and well-being . . . Not all
demons are bad, you know.”
            “Do you know what a demon is, my Jade Cricket.?”
            “Mystical creatures with great power who can affect the world for evil or good.”
            The master chuckled. “And who taught you that definition?”
            “Nobody taught it to me,” she said. “It’s something I learned on my own.” Rin sighed.
“You know, Master Li, I’m not a human servant in the castle. There are no human servants in
the castle or humans period.”
            “Oh?” he asked.
            “My lord saved me from a vicious wolf attack when I was six years old. He also saved
me from a lifetime of loneliness and cruelty at the hands of the people in my village–human
village, I might add.”
            “Yes, there can be great wickedness in the hearts of man.”
            “And demons, too,” she added. “I don’t deny that. There are good and bad demons just
as there are good and bad humans.”
            “Demons are bad by definition,” the master pointed out, the white light of the lantern
reflecting off the bald spot at the front of his head. “Demons are defined as ‘evil spirits.’”
            “Demon can also be used to refer to a cruel, wicked and inhuman person.”
            “I can see how that’s true. To be human by definition is to be compassionate, kind and
merciful–things all demons lack.”
            “Didn’t Master Sumida show mercy when she saved your life?” she asked. “I mean, I’m
not clear on the specifics of the event . . .”
            The master was slow to answer. “She saved me from an avalanche,” he finally said. “I
was a young man of 25 traveling with my temple brothers on a pilgrimage to the mountains of
Tibet. A sudden snowstorm came up, there was an avalanche and . . . I survived, while they did
not.” He gave a soft, sad chuckle. “I was weak, then–unskilled and unprepared. Lying beneath
a heap of snow and rock, I felt death coming for me, and I wept. I wailed like a newborn babe
and prayed that I might have another chance at this life.
            “I knew I hadn’t been very devout in my studies, meditations and practices, but . . . I
promised I would get better if given another chance.”
            “And you did,” Rin said. “You did get another chance.”
            “The avalanche brought us very near Sumida’s village. Apparently she was leading some
of her students on a nature walk.”
            “During a snowstorm?” she asked, half-amused.
            “They were her advanced students. She was teaching them to focus their minds so that
their bodies would function in any environment.”
            “Focusing on the self as opposed to the environment.”
            “Or embracing your environment as part of the self. As it is said, ‘who distinguishes
himself from the world may be given the world, but who regards himself as the world may
accept the world.’ I was young then and hadn’t learned to do such things. The cold and the pain
seeped into my bones, and there was no existence for me save for that one.”
            “You must have been grateful to be rescued then.”
            “I was not aware of my rescuers. I was unconscious at the time, and I stayed that way for
several days afterwards. When I awoke, I was alone and bandaged practically from head to foot.
I could tell I was indoors and it was warm and bright and seemingly safe. But even at my young
age, untrained as I was, I could still detect the vast amount of youki in the area. It gave me this
odd . . . twinge up and down my spine, and I knew something wasn’t quite right.”
            “I have that!” Rin said overly excited. “I have that twinge. Anytime there’s a large
source of mystic energy, be it youki or otherwise, I feel it. But it has to be a fairly large source,
or I completely overlook it.”
            “You have a natural talent then, for I haven’t begun to train you in such mystical
practices. Perhaps you are the best choice for this, after all.”
            “Best choice for what?” Rin asked.
            The old master smiled at her, causing creases on his normally smooth forehead. “‘Who
accepts nature's flow becomes all-cherishing. Being all-cherishing he becomes impartial. Being
impartial he becomes magnanimous. Being magnanimous he becomes natural. Being natural he
becomes one with the Way. Being one with the Way he becomes immortal. Though his body
will decay, the Way will not.’”
            Rin nodded. “Master Sumida told me you were dying.”
            “It is but a rest. After so long a stay, it is only natural to wish to retire. But I digress. I
cannot rest in peace without knowing that my teachings are being put to good use. To my
knowledge, no one in my time has ascended to this level of balance, harmony and peace, this
state of oneness with the world around them.”
            “Is that why you can move mountains?” Rin asked.
            “I am the mountain,” he said simply. “If I desire to move, I simply do it.”
            “So you are the mountain, and the mountain is you.”
            The master nodded. “I wish you to stay by me till the end, my Jade Cricket. It would not
do for my teachings to be forever lost from the world after my passing. I wish you to continue
on in my stead.”
            “What? I . . . I can’t do that. I’m not a monk . . . or a nun. I don’t want to . . .”
            “Be like me,” the master concluded. “Old and alone with no family to claim as his own.”
            Rin bowed her head. “I meant no offense, Master, but . . . I love my lord. There is
nothing I want more than to be by his side. And you keep talking about being impartial and
serving man and . . .” she shook her head, biting her lower lip. “That’s not who I am.”
            “Who truly knows their own potential?” Master Li asked.
            “I . . . I can’t pretend to know the future,” she said somewhat uncertainly. “But I know
what I want, and I know what I don’t want. I don’t want to disappoint you, Master. I know
you’ve journeyed your entire life to come to this point, and you’d like nothing more than to
bring many others to the same point. With your . . . rest so near, you need me to help you do
that. But . . . I can’t forsake my lord for anything. I can’t deny your power would be of great
use to me, especially considering the path I’ve chosen to walk . . . But I know you would
consider it a perversion of your teachings to use my skills in such a way. And since I know that
would be the way I’d use them, I think it’s best that your abilities die with you.”
            “No,” the master said. “I cannot force my teachings upon you, and I cannot control how
you use them in your everyday life but . . .” He reached over and placed his hand over Rin’s
which were folded neatly in her lap. “What is right for me may not be right for you. Though we
walk, have walked similar paths, our journeys are decidedly differently. Mine is nearing its end,
and you are still in the midst of yours. I have come too far to turn back; you still have several
options before you.
            “I am not asking you to ‘forsake’ your lord. I am not saying that you cannot be with him;
that is ultimately your choice. But, as my student, I ask that you let me continue your training up
to the moment of my death.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, causing her to look up into his
tranquil visage, his dark eyes beaming brightly at her, brimming over with hope and confidence.
            “Rin?”
            She swallowed hard. “You won’t try to further influence my decision one way or the
other? You just want me to stay here and continue to train with you?”
            “It was my understanding that you’ve already made your decision concerning the demon
lord.”
            “I have,” she nodded.
            “Then what affect can I have on you?” he asked.
            “A negative one,” she replied honestly. “Though I can’t deny there are certain
similarities between Master Sumida and yourself, and my lord and me, I refuse to end up dying
old and alone while he waits patiently by my side in hopes I’ll throw him a kind word.”
            “You think it is that simple,” he said. “You think you already have the situation
completely figured out.”
            “I wouldn’t dare make that assumption, Master, but as you said ‘I can only comment on
things as I see them.’”
            He pulled his hand back onto his futon and nodded.
            “I’ll stay,” Rin said. “It would be wrong to deny a dying man his last wish. And if the
love I hold for my lord isn’t strong enough to endure a few choice words from a man who knows
nothing about him, then I never really deserved him in the first place.”
            “Then it is agreed,” the master said. “You will stay here with me in the dojo until my
passing. At that time you may do as you please.”
            Rin placed her hands in prayer position and bowed her head.
            888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

            Three days had never seemed so long and so short at the same time. It did snow that day,
and it covered the castle grounds and rooftops in a fine, white powder. Master Sumida rolled out
a futon for Rin to sleep in the training room and brought down linens and blankets from the
castle to keep her warm. In addition, they kept a constant fire lit in the training room fireplace to
stave off the growing cold. Master Sumida stayed by Master Li’s side at all times, and Rin
watched their interaction with growing fascination.
            If she were to make an adequate comparison between Sesshomaru and she, and Master Li
and Master Sumida, despite their difference in ages and species, she would say Master Li more
closely resembled Sesshomaru in attitude and bearing, and she was more in tune with Master
Sumida’s way of thinking. What difference did it make who they were and what they were as
long as they were sharing something genuine and true? Did it really matter so much that Master
Li was human and she was not? Was it really such a . . . sin?
            On the first day, Rin thought perhaps it had to do more with Master Li’s priestly duties
and less with Master Sumida’s demonic nature. Monks weren’t allowed to marry and procreate,
after all. But Master Sumida informed her otherwise as they made their way through their yoga
postures. “The Tao is the infinite force of nature, little sister, the path of the heart or put simply
‘the Way.’ The Way is balance, harmony and perfect peace. Sex is part of nature. To deny that
is to deny the Way.”
            “Oh?” Rin asked. “So . . . even monks do that?”
            The Master nodded in her Tree Pose. “Taoists see sexuality as the primary source of
power behind love. But, of course, there can be too much of a good thing. Indulgence is
discouraged on all levels. The purpose of sex isn’t to fulfil the ego with its insatiable desires, but
to quiet the ego and calm the mind so as to first observe, and then cultivate the body’s energies.”
            Rin giggled. “In other words if you don’t engage in that type of behavior, your energies
will get all backed up, and you’ll become unbalanced.”
            “Sexual frustration is a bad thing on many levels, little sister.”
            Her laughter grew, a bright blush forming across her cheeks.
            “You think I’m joking.”
            “Not at all,” Rin said.
            “Sexual attraction builds up quite an amount of life energy, little sister. If kept in, stifled
and bottled up, it sickens you, depresses you, puts you at odds with the rest of the world. But
when you release it . . . in its proper way, I might add, you achieve peace, balance and
harmony–a living, breathing embodiment of the Tao.”
            Rin giggled again.
            The Master gave her a knowing smile. “Just look how much happier you are now.”
            Her blush deepened.
            “And such contentment comes at no cost.”

            The second day was decidedly more tiresome. Knowing Master Li’s rejection of Master
Sumida was based solely on her demon heritage, lowered Rin’s opinion of him in some ways.
She’d always respected his views and his patience and abilities. But he was so wrong about this;
why couldn’t he see that? How could one so wise be so blind?
            The day began with yoga with Master Sumida and then moved on to her Tai Chi practice.
Master Sumida moved him into the training room, and as he couldn’t move, Master Li simply
nodded as she worked her way through the various exercises. Had he been well, she would’ve
asked him if he could train her to use two swords instead of just the one. But as it was . . .
            “‘Weapons are tools of violence, not of the sage. He uses them only when there is no
choice, and then calmly, and with tact, for he finds no beauty in them. Whoever finds beauty in
weapons delights in the slaughter of men; and who delights in slaughter cannot content himself
with peace.’”
            It seemed her master had a quote for everything, and he was now determined to teach
them all to her. In the beginning, he was content to teach her simple prayers of thanksgiving or
prayers for the newly dead, but now he wished her to memorize the teachings of Lao Tse. The
one about weapons being “tools of violence” was part of Chapter 31 of his teachings. Lao Tse
was the founder of Taoism.
            Some of his words were quite poetic and struck a chord of truth within her. Like Chapter
68: Compassion. “Compassion is the finest weapon and best defense. If you would establish
harmony, compassion must surround you like a fortress. Therefore, a good soldier does not
inspire fear; a good fighter does not display aggression; a good conqueror does not engage in
battle; a good leader does not exercise authority. This is the value of unimportance; this is how
to win the cooperation of others; this to how to build the same harmony that is in nature.”
            And another one she found intriguing was Chapter 71: Limitation. “Who recognizes his
limitations is healthy; who ignores his limitations is sick. The sage recognizes this sickness as a
limitation. And so becomes immune.” Chapter 74 on Fate made some good points, and Chapter
78 on Yielding tied in perfectly with her lessons in Tai Chi–“Nothing in the world is as soft and
yielding as water, yet nothing can better overcome the hard and strong, for they can neither
control nor do away with it.”
            In truth, all of the chapters had their merits and some good points but her favorite by far
was Chapter 41 on Following.
            When the great man learns the Way, he follows it with diligence;
            When the common man learns the Way, he follows it on occasion;
            When the mean man learns the Way, he laughs out loud;
            Those who do not laugh, do not learn at all.
            Therefore it is said:
            Who understands the Way seems foolish;
            Who progresses on the Way seems to fail;
            Who follows the Way seems to wander.
            For the finest harmony appears plain;
            The brightest truth appears coloured;
            The richest character appears incomplete;
            The bravest heart appears meek;
            The simplest nature appears inconstant.
            The square, perfected, has no corner;
            Music, perfected, has no melody;
            Love, perfected, has no climax;
            Art, perfected, has no meaning.
            The Way can be neither sensed nor known:
            It transmits sensation and transcends knowledge.

            “Perhaps . . .”
            “Perhaps what?” Master Sumida asked. They had trekked through the snow from the
dojo to the castle in order to cleanse themselves in the bathhouse on the first level. They had
already soaped and rinsed themselves in the adjacent room and were currently neck deep in
warm water, immersed in the marble basin which was large enough for InuYasha’s entire village
to bathe in.
            Rin shook her head. “I don’t know if I should say anything. Perhaps it’s not my place.”
            The Master sighed. “Just say it. I’m getting increasingly tired of people holding out on
me. It’s just not healthy.”
            Rin nodded, pushing her damp hair back from her face. “‘Love, perfected, has no
climax.’”
            The Master turned to face her, her black eyes dull and listless.
            “I . . . I know it’s not the same thing you were talking about--sexuality as the primary
source of power behind love and . . . releasing it in its proper way to achieve peace, balance and
harmony. But . . . everybody doesn’t love in the same way.”
            Master Sumida ducked her head beneath the water and resurfaced, water streaming down
her face and dripping down the ends of her hair. “It took him three months to be civil to me,”
she said with the barest of smiles. “He was injured from head-to-toe, couldn’t move to feed
himself or change his bandages or even scratch an itch at the tip of his nose, and yet when he
regained consciousness, he refused to let any of us near him without trying to purify us first.”
            Rin cracked a smile.
            “Of course, he was so untrained and injured, all he could do was give us a little shock.
But still, it was enough to piss my students off, and they said he could starve to death or die of an
infection for all they cared. They weren’t going to let him shock them one more time when all
they were trying to do was help . . . So I was left to look after him. He was my responsibility,
after all. I’d saved him, so his life was in my hands. It’s . . . an odd bond you form with
somebody when you go through something like that. Not everyone would go out of their way to
help somebody else, you know.”
            “Why did you, then?”
            “‘Bearing and nurturing, creating but not owning, giving without demanding, this is
harmony.’”
            “That’s from Lao Tse’s teachings, isn’t it?”
            Master Sumida nodded. “I first heard those sentiments expressed when Shen recited
them to me, though my people have always lived in such a manner. We share everything as one
in my village. Everything is done for the benefit of us all, and not just to the advantage of a
few.” The Master smiled. “I never thought a human would embrace such a way of life.
They’ve always struck me as being rather greedy and self-serving.”
            Rin nodded. “I know.”
            “But to hear him speak, to know these words were thought up by yet another man . . .”
            “Didn’t make us seem so bad.”
            “Well, I never thought humanity as a whole was a bad thing. We lived quite near a few
human villages, and they never gave us any problems. In fact, when we saved him, I thought he
was one of the local villagers. I was quite surprised to find he was from Qingdan on the Yellow
Sea and a Taoist monk at that. Do you know how far away Qingdan is from where I live?”
            “No,” Rin shook her head.
            “One thousand, seven hundred fifty miles. He and his monks traveled 20 miles a day for
nearly 88 days straight to seek the enlightenment of Gedun Truppa, the Holy One.”
            “The Holy One?”
            “The Dalai Lama.”
            Rin’s expression remained blank.
            The Master smiled. “I forget you are not Buddhist. The Dalai Lama is the spiritual
leader of Tibet, the second incarnation of the Buddha of compassion, Chenrezig.”
            “Chenrezig?”
            “‘The Seeing-Eye’ Lord. He is the patron deity of Tibet.”
            “So this . . . Dalai Lama is a descendant of the gods, like the Emperor.”
            “Something like that, though the Emperor is a political leader, one who wishes to save
your nation. The Dalai Lama is a spiritual leader. He wants to save your soul.”
            “Have you met him?”
            The Master laughed. “One with his abilities? Are you kidding? I’m a demon; I couldn’t
get anywhere near the place. They would assume I came to do him harm and not . . .” Her
laughter died down and her face suddenly fell sullen after a couple of half-hearted chuckles.
“Such things are simply not possible, little sister. As I said, they would assume I came to do him
harm and . . . not to attain the enlightenment all of his followers desire.”
            “You’re a Buddhist, Master Sumida?”
            “Don’t be absurd, little sister. It would be foolish for a demon to follow any religious
practice. As Shen, your Master Li, has said, the only purpose a demon serves in religion is to
torment the righteous and terrify them into behaving appropriately.”
            “But you know about the . . . Dalai Lama. You know who he is; you know what his
purpose is.”
            “That’s only because I am a lover of knowledge, and he has some very interesting
philosophies. Truth be known, I would enjoy meeting such a man. Shen and I enjoy quite stout
philosophical debates, and I think the Lama could present me with a challenge.”
            “So, Master Li came to meet the Dalai Lama, and he ended up meeting you instead.”
            The Master nodded. “That was 58 years ago when the Lama first founded the
Zhaxilhunbo Monastery. Of course, he wasn’t the Lama at the time, he was just one of the three
great disciples of Tsongkhapa. He received the title of Dalai Lama some time after his death.”
            “See,” Rin said, “you know all this stuff about people I’ve never even heard of. You are
a Buddhist.”
            “I’m not a Buddhist; I’m simply ‘old’ and have a penchant for philosophy.”
            “Exactly how old are you, Master Sumida? If you don’t mind me asking.”
            She gave a slight laugh then smiled at her young student. “Guess.”
            “Guess?” she laughed.
            The Master nodded. “I could use a bit of fun right now, so have a go at it. How old do
you think I am?”
            “I don’t even know how old my lord is, except that he’s over 60.”
            “I’m older than he is.”
            “You’re older than my lord?”
            “By 253 years.”
            Rin gasped. “Two hundred fifty-three years . . .”
            Master Sumida nodded. “That’s not how old I am, of course. That’s just how much
older I am than your lord. I came to visit Lady Sora when he was born.”
            “Lady Sora was his mother?”
            She gave another nod. “An unhappy woman if I ever knew one.”
            “Would she . . . would she have liked me, do you think?”
            “No,” she shook her head. “She would’ve chosen someone for her son just as her parents
chose someone for her–someone of his status and breeding. He would’ve mated for politics not
for love.”
            Rin sighed inwardly. Yet another vote against her.
            “His father would have liked you, though. He was a very good judge of character. But
such things always come with age. You see things more clearly with an older set of eyes.”
            “So . . . after Master Li stopped trying to purify you, what happened?”
            So Master Sumida told Rin her side of things. She helped nurse Master Li back to health,
then she led him to the temple in the Xiagze area. It took him six months to completely recover
from the injuries received from the avalanche and a few days to travel to the temple. During that
time they got to know one another. Master Li was the youngest of a family of nine, and his
father had pushed him into the monastic life when he was only 12. But even then, he had an
aptitude for spiritual studies, and the other monks declared he was a natural. But, despite his
natural ability, Master Sumida claimed Master Li struggled every step of the way with his
studies. He didn’t want to be a monk; he wanted to be a poet and a scholar. But such things
were for the wealthy and not for the youngest son of an illiterate farmer.
            And so he became a monk, and they taught him to read and write, and he got the chance
to become the scholar he always wanted to be. He did his best to follow the precepts of the
monastery, and he did quite well in his martial arts studies . . . But he didn’t want to be a monk.
Truthfully, following the Way, there was nothing denied to him, with the exception of worldly
possessions, which he had no interest in, and a life outside the monastery, which he did have an
interest in. So, when the opportunity to go on a pilgrimage to Tibet and study at this new temple
presented itself, he went.
            Master Sumida, at the time, had been a yogi master for several centuries. She had no
complaints about her life. Everything was as it always had been. As Master Li had said, she was
out training some of her more advanced students when they came across an avalanche during a
snowstorm. Visibility was poor, but they managed to discover five bodies. Two were dead
when they’d found them, their bodies crushed beneath the rock and snow.
            They took the three survivors to their village. Much like Sesshomaru’s castle, Master
Sumida’s settlement was protected by a barrier to shield them from prying eyes and potential
attackers. The barrier also kept out inclement weather and sealed in heat. They put the three
monks together in a hut and watched them. One died within two days, and the other died within
a week. Master Li was the only one that survived.
            Master Sumida claimed Master Li said there were 15 monks traveling all together,
mostly his age and younger. Master Li had been 25 at the time. The youngest one traveling with
him had been 16; the oldest was 36. They were all making the trip to seek enlightenment.
            When Master Li, or as Master Sumida came to know him, Shen regained consciousness,
he had several questions, all of which Master Sumida answered. Where was he? Where were
his brothers? Why couldn’t he move? Was she a demon? Was he in Hell? Had she come to
torment him for his shortcomings in the spiritual realm?
            The Master answered, “You are safe. They are dead. You are injured. Yes, no, and that
remains to be seen.”
            Master Sumida supposed her last response was what caused him to repeatedly try and
purify her and her followers.
            Among Master Sumida’s people, there was a shortage of males–a severe shortage of
males. There were 20 females to every 1 male, so even though he was human, the younger
females in the settlement were quite anxious to sneak a peak at him, so they volunteered to help
treat him. And they got a purification shock for their efforts. At first, they thought it was fun,
and they were amused by the human’s antics, but soon their fascination with him faded and their
irritation with him grew. They wanted him gone–out of their settlement. He was beginning to
“stink up the place,” as they said.
            Now, Master Sumida wasn’t exactly the village elder, but she was very good friends with
her. The elder said Shen could stay, just not in the communal hut . . . So the Master moved him
to her own hut, and he gave her quite a shock when she did so. He was recovering strength, but,
due to his lack of training, he was still unable to focus the majority of his power. If he could
have, he would’ve killed her. But because he couldn’t, he merely singed her a little, which
healed an hour or so later.
            After he stopped shocking her and grew used to her method of care, Shen began talking
to her. And she . . . talked back. “It was genuinely odd keeping such close company with a
male,” the Master surrendered. “There are so few males among my kind, they don’t have time to
just visit and talk. If there’s a male in your company, he’s there for one reason and one reason
only . . . procreation. If you aren’t in heat and there’s no chance of producing a child, a male
won’t even look at you. And that’s perfectly okay. Females do quite well entertaining
themselves in that capacity.”
            Rin raised an eyebrow at her.
            “I’ve had several lovers in my time, little sister, and only two of them have been males.
And I have exactly two children to show for it–both female and both completely grown.”
            “What is ‘completely grown’ for a demon?”
            “Physically, we reach adulthood around 25. Intellectually, we continue to grow as we
read and study more about the world around us. Emotionally,” she gave a slight laugh, “we’re
not fully mature until around 625.”
            “S–six hundred twenty five?”
            The Master nodded. “Give or take a decade or two.”
            “So, you’re old enough to have children that are 625 years old!”
            “No,” she shook her head. “I mean, yes, I’m old enough to have children that are that
old, but they’re not.”
            “How old are they?”
            “Five hundred twenty-nine and 516.”
            Rin gasped. “By the gods, how old are you?”
            “I already told you to guess.”
            Rin stared at her indescribably youthful master and squinted. “Well, if you’re 253 years
older than my lord, and your oldest child is 516 . . .”
            “That’s my child and not your lord, remember. You can’t get my age simply by adding
the two numbers together.”
            “But still . . .”
            “Yes, I’m very old by your standards, but I’m still a young adult by demon standards.”
            Rin stared down at her hands and noticed how puckered and wrinkly they were getting
from the long stay in the water. “I think it’s time I got out,” she said. “Just look at my hands.”
            The Master nodded with a sad smile. “You humans change so quickly, little sister.” She
too pulled herself out of the water, wrapping a drying cloth around her. “He was so young and
so alive back then. Such a brilliant mind open to endless possibilities . . . And he was so
attractive . . . Black hair, smooth skin, that lovely tenor voice . . . And now, he’s going to leave
me.”
            As they dressed, the Master continued with her tale, telling how they grew accustomed to
each other’s company and they found surprising similarities in their individual philosophies.
When his injuries had healed enough, she began teaching him yoga and he taught her some basic
moves in Tai Chi . . . And then came the time for him to leave, to journey to the temple. Not
trusting him to find his way on his own, Master Sumida accompanied him.
            On the way, they talked more. They talked of traveling, scholarship, family. Why they
embraced a certain way of thinking as opposed to another. What inspired them to become lovers
of knowledge. Why he was going back to the temple when he could very easily pretend to have
died with his brothers in that avalanche. Why she was following him when he was completely
capable of looking after himself.
            When they neared the barrier of the mountain-perched temple, Master Sumida stopped.
            Shen turned to stare at her.
            “I can’t go any further with you. The barriers won’t let me pass.”
            The young man stared up at the posts, wards and sutras.
            “The enlightenment you seek is in there. Go,” she urged him. “Become a great scholar.
Immerse yourself in the Way.”
            He took a step forward and then stopped, turning back around to face her. “I am not a
Buddhist. I didn’t want to be a monk.”
            And so they left and returned to Master Sumida’s village.
            “I would’ve felt like a fool approaching such a great man without my brethren. I’m sure
he would’ve looked at me and seen my iniquity in just one glance.”
            “Iniquity?” Sumida repeated.
            “On that mountain, instead of praying for a peaceful passage from this life into the next, I
begged for a second chance. I . . . cling too much to the ways of this world, Sumida. I can’t see
anything beyond it. I profess to follow the Way, but I am completely lost. I do not wish to fall
into Hell, but I fear that’s where I’ll end up.”
            “I can’t profess to understand this . . . human fear of dying, this . . . fear of being judged
and being found unworthy for one afterlife or the next. But, I have studied upon your beliefs.
And Chapter 16 on Decay and Renewal says to ‘Empty the self completely; embrace perfect
peace. The world will rise and move; watch it return to rest. All the flourishing things will
return to their source.
            “‘This return is peaceful; it is the flow of nature, an eternal decay and renewal.
Accepting this brings enlightenment, ignoring this brings misery.’”
            “But what caused him to change?” Rin asked. “It sounds as if he mistrusted you in the
beginning, and then came to depend on you as a friend.”
            The two women had finished drying their hair and were now donning fresh robes. The
servants had come in and laid out their clothes. Both were dressed in white this time.
            “He thought he was damned,” Master Sumida replied. “He’d done too many wrongs to
be forgiven. He clung too much to the physical world. He’d deceived an entire monastery of
monks. He had no desire to serve mankind in a spiritual capacity; he just wanted a free
education. They thought he was a devout brother, one of their kind, when in fact, he was just
faking his way through it. And . . . he liked me, considered me a . . . friend, felt comfortable
with me.
            “His only explanation for feeling so non-threatened by my presence, was that he was just
as . . . foul and corrupt as I was.” The Master forced a tight grin as she took a seat on the stone
bench. “It couldn’t have possibly been that he was mistaken about me and my kind all along. It
couldn’t have possibly been that a demon’s sole purpose of existence isn’t to torment humans. It
couldn’t possibly be that I’m my own person with my own life and my own feelings.
            “He never saw me as a person, I realized. I was just a thing . . . ‘a foul, corrupt’ thing to
pass the time with. And it couldn’t have possibly been that he . . . was in love with me, and
therefore everything else was irrelevant. It was . . . It was his way or no way at all. And his way
determined that he was damned, and therefore just as ‘foul and corrupt’ as I was.” She drew in a
deep breath and pushed it out, rubbing her temple with the tips of her fingers.
            “That’s not a very nice thing to say to someone, is it?”
            “Shen has never been noted for his kindness towards others. Even after he’d ‘redeemed’
himself and truly began following the Way.”
            Rin took a seat beside her. “So he was with you, and then he turned from you.”
            The Master nodded. “I felt sorry for him. Of course, there were other things I felt for
him as well . . . But at that time, he was just utterly pitiful. He was completely convinced that he
was damned for all eternity, and therefore cut off from everything and everyone he knew and
loved–his home, his family, his fellow monks, even nature itself. ‘What a failure I’ve become,’
he muttered to me.
            “And so, because I’d saved his life, I was responsible. I was responsible for his misery,
his doubt and confusion. I was the reason he felt so lost and alone. If he’d simply died–if I’d
simply let him die, he wouldn’t have suffered. So . . . I took it upon myself to relieve his
suffering. He needed somewhere to belong, so I made it so he belonged to me.”
            Rin’s eyes widened. “You’re mated!”
            “Were,” the Master replied. “He had my mark . . . purified. It’s like a divorce.”
            “Why?” Rin asked.
            “When the first pilgrimage failed, they sent another one a few years later. We just
happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, and he was spotted. They thought I had
abducted him and was . . . using him against his will, and so they attacked me and took him
away.” The Master made no move to hide her tears. “I was very injured, and honestly, quite
near death. On top of my own pain, because of the mark and our bond, I could feel his pain. He
was scared and worried and angry and confused and . . . ashamed. He was ashamed that they
had seen him like this, seen him with me, seen my mark on him.
            “When you are bonded, little sister, there is no pain worse than that of separation . . . I
thought I would die from their wards and their sutras and their holy staffs. But I didn’t. They
took Shen to the temple in Xiagze, and I knew he was there. I could feel his pain, sense his
struggle, but I couldn’t do anything for him. All I could do was stand outside the barrier and
hope to catch a glimpse of him.”
            The Master sniffed. “You would think after so long, you’d simply get tired of waiting.
You’d get hungry or thirsty or cold or wet or angry and frustrated and . . . You just can’t leave.
It’s that strong. I was fixed to that spot until I saw him again.”
            “And did you?”
            “Not for many years–six, I think it was. He had studied at that temple for six years, and
when I saw him, he had aged. He was 28 when they took him; he was 34 when he . . . returned, I
guess.
            “I noticed a year or so after he was taken, I stopped receiving things from his end of the
connection. For a moment I thought . . .” She lost her voice for a moment and simply sat and
wept. “For a moment,” she continued, “I thought he was dead. I’d felt this really sharp, severe
pain coming from his end and then . . . nothing. But . . . I didn’t feel him leave. I didn’t feel that
he’d gone away from me. True, I couldn’t sense anything from his end anymore, but I knew he
was still there.
            “So, I waited.”
            “For six years,” Rin said, somewhat astounded. “No food, no water, no shelter, no
sleep.”
            “Youkai are resilient creatures, little sister. We need very little in terms of survival. And
when you are mated, your top priority is always your mate. All else is . . . meaningless.”
            “So you saw him and he’d aged.”
            The Master nodded. “I hurried to him to see that he was all right, and . . . he had
changed. They had changed him. He’d had my mark purified, and he claimed,” the tears began
again, “he claimed he’d been absolved for living such a sinful existence! He claimed he’d been
forgiven and was now on the correct path, the straight path, the narrow path! He was now one
with the ‘Way,’ and he DIDN’T need me any more.”
            The tears were gone now, her formerly bleak, black eyes burning red with anger. “If you
thought what he said was rude to me today . . .” Master Sumida scoffed, a deep scowl marring
her normally placid features. “You should’ve heard the things he said to me that day. I wanted
to kill those monks, then kill him . . . and then die, myself.” She took a deep, cleansing breath
and pushed it out, her face again beginning to resemble her own. “So, I let him go. By rights, I
could’ve simply marked him again. Truthfully, there is no ‘divorce’ in youkai mating. Once a
male is yours or a female is yours, they’re yours forever. The mark is a symbol and a mystical
bond, but . . . You don’t need the mark to know your mate. You don’t need the bond to really
know how they’re feeling.”
            Rin was quiet for awhile, absorbing this new information. “My lord . . . said something
similar to that. I know him pretty well just the way things are now.”
            The Master nodded. “A youkai knows its mate by scent. Now, this doesn’t include
arranged matings and the like, but when a demon meets the one they’re meant to spend the rest
of their life with, they know.”
            “The nose knows,” Rin laughed.
            “Yes,” the older woman smiled, “something like that. So, there was a part of me on that
mountain that knew I had to save him because, instinctively, I knew he was the one.”
            “But it ended badly,” Rin said.
            “It hasn’t ended yet. I couldn’t really let it end then, and I won’t let it end, now. When I
released Shen from our mating bond, I bound him to me with another oath. I told him that he
owed me a life debt, and it couldn’t be excused or expunged for any reason. When I called he
must come–anytime, anywhere, any reason. If he failed to fulfill the obligation before his death,
he would be reborn into my service.”
            “So, that’s how you got him here.”
            The Master nodded.
            “Did you just want to see him again or . . .”
            “Even now I still want him. Walking through the woods with him, felt just like old
times. I want all the old times back; I want him back. I want him to stop being such a damned
coward and be what he is supposed to be, what he was always meant to be.” The seiyuuki
youkai stood and headed for the bathhouse exit.
            “Master?” Rin stood and followed her. “What is it he was meant to be?”
            The Master turned, blinked a few times, then smiled at her. “Mine, of course.” She
turned back towards the exit and continued on her way.

            The third day, Master Li worsened and wasn’t able to sit up, even with assistance.
Master Sumida moved him into the training room, so he could keep warm by the fire in his
immobile state.
            “Study Lao Tse’s teachings,” the old master urged her, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Follow in my path. Do not forget who you are.”
            On the fourth day, as promised, Sesshomaru returned. She’d been in the middle of her
meditations–seated, legs crossed, eyes closed, lips slightly parted, thumb and forefinger touching
while her middle, ring and pinky fingers remained extended. And she felt him. Warm, solid
and... somewhat imposing.
            She opened her eyes and turned to Master Sumida.
            “Go, little sister. I will watch over Shen while you are away.”
            Rin smiled and sprang to her feet, dusting off her white exercise uniform, sprinting
towards the exit.
            “But hurry back,” the Master instructed. “I know you and your lord have . . . matters to
attend to, little sister. But now is not the time, and I humbly ask you to remember your promise
to your Master Li.”
            Rin placed her hands in prayer position and bowed.
                                                                8 8 8
            It had been three hours since her lord’s return, and, as he had asked, Rin waited patiently
for him in her own chambers. After he’d made his request, she’d returned to Master Li’s dojo
and made her intentions known to Master Sumida.
            “Just hurry back,” she’d said, crouching by Master Li’s side. “I don’t know how long
he’ll last. And he needs you to be here for that last moment.”
            Rin had nodded and bowed, and now she was waiting, somewhat nervously for her lord
to make his appearance.
            It was odd being back in her room after having been gone for so long. It seemed peculiar
to want to sleep in a four-poster bed with pastel-colored silk sheets and a down comforter
swathed in satin after she’d spent several nights just sleeping under the stars. She felt slightly
uncomfortable packing her things away in an oak closet or a set of drawers when she was so
used to carrying everything she needed in a satchel on her back. And she was certainly having a
time getting accustomed to feeling hard wood beneath her feet instead of soft earth. But... This
was her home, her room, after all. She’d just have to get used to it again. She’d left it three
months ago and hadn’t stepped foot in it since then. Even after her return, she had no time to see
her old sleeping space. Just as Sesshomaru left, Master Sumida arrived and led her straight to
Master Li, and she’d been staying there ever since.
            But here was where she got her start in Sesshomaru’s castle. She’d felt so lost in the
queen-sized bed the first night she’d settled down to sleep. It was simply too big for one as
small as she was . . . and so she found Sesshomaru’s room across the hall and crept into bed with
him. His bed was larger, of course, but with two people, it seemed a bit more cozy than hers.
Seeing that she didn’t like to sleep alone, Sesshomaru bought her quite a collection of dolls to
share her space. They were porcelain and imported and expensive and . . . highly breakable.
            Rin stifled a laugh, remembering waking up several mornings with a few less “friends”
than she’d went to bed with. And by the gods it hurt when she accidentally stepped on their
remnants. But eventually she mastered the art of sleeping with such fragile things. Currently,
she had 22 dolls crammed into her bed. It seemed silly one so “old” as her still playing with
dolls, but . . . they weren’t “dolls;” they were children, her children. And she took excellent care
of every one of them.
            There was Rei, Kaiya, Michiko, Sora, Kameko, Kumiko, Maeko, Mina, Sumiko, Yumi,
Yuka, Mitsuko, Sachiko, Imari, Fujiko, Yuki, Aneko, Kimiko, Ai, Ayumi, Sakura and Hana.
She’d named them all except Sora and Mitsuko; Sesshomaru named those two. She’d received
Sora on her first birthday with him.
            She honestly didn’t know when her birthday was, so they celebrated it on the day he
revived her. She received Mitsuko a few months ago for her 17^th birthday. She was glad, and
honestly surprised, he hadn’t told her she was too old to play with such things, now.
            But, in addition to her dolls, she had a few combs for her hair that she kept on her
dresser, two planters of flowers she kept by her bay window, and a few watercolors she’d
painted hanging on her walls. Now that she thought of it, she really liked her room. It suited
her.
            There was a light rapping on her chamber door.
            She’d been so distracted with her own thoughts she hadn’t noticed his approach. It was
there just as before. Master Li was correct, with practice and studying Lao Tse’s teachings, her
senses were becoming sharper, more refined. She could feel him standing on the other side of
the double doors just as if he were standing right before her now–warm, solid, commanding . . .
But, there was something different about him, now. Different from when she’d detected his
return to the castle. There was an urgency in his aura that hadn’t been there before, as if he
couldn’t wait to get to the other side of her door.
            Certainly, she sensed a rise in his spirits when Ah-Un again touched down on the castle
grounds, and that feeling increased when he had greeted her in the Great Hall and he had asked
her to wait for him here. But now . . . the rise she detected was not in his spirits.
            A knot lodged itself in her throat, but she forced it down. “Come in.” She stood up from
the side of her bed and walked over to her window. It was still snowing outside, and she had a
terrific view of the snow-covered treetops of the surrounding forest against the dark background
of the evening sky.
            The right door swung open and her lord entered, the light of her chandelier reflecting off
the silver of his hair. He was clearly dressed for bed, wearing only a red, silk robe that came
down just to his mid-thigh and a pair of black house slippers.
            She threw a casual glance at him over her shoulder, mentally swearing she’d be forever
enraptured with his demon markings. She could see the ones on his cheeks, she knew about the
ones on his wrist, and she could see the ones on his ankles. The ones she couldn’t see, but knew
for a fact they were there, were the ones on his smooth, sleek and slender hips.
            All she had to do was flip up the hem of his robe and . . .
            No, she scolded herself. Remember what you promised Master Li. Remember what you
promised Master Li. Remember what you promised Master Li.
            “Not tonight,” she blurted out, her back towards him, his reflection partially visible in the
darkened glass.
            Even in the glass, she could see that he’d raised an eyebrow at her. “Not tonight,” he
repeated.
            Rin nodded her head. “Not tonight.”
            “Can you not look at me when you speak to me?” He was standing at the foot of her bed,
less than ten feet from where she stood.
            She bit her lower lip and turned to face him, her eyes lowered. “I promised Master Li I
wouldn’t be gone very long.”
            “You train with him in the mornings, not in the evenings. Why are you not looking me in
the eye?”
            “Because I’ll want to stay then, and I can’t.”
            “Can’t?” He took a step towards her. “Or won’t?”
            “Can’t,” she insisted. “Master Li is dying, and I promised I wouldn’t leave his side until
he passed on.”
            “You have already left his side. You are here.”
            “But he knows I’m here. And he knows I’m coming back.”
            He took another step towards her. “Whether you return to him now or in the morning...”
            “No!” she cut him off. “I promised.”
            He growled low in his throat.
            “I know you don’t like to be cut off, and I apologize, but I won’t give in on this. Not
tonight.”
            “Then when?”
            Three feet. He was three feet away from her.
            “I–I don’t know.”
            “You do not know?”
            “No,” she shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know when he’ll die. I don’t know
when we can . . .” She felt a blush rise to her cheeks, a low chuckle rising from the back of her
throat, a moist heat settling between her thighs.
            “Why do you refuse me when that’s not what you desire?” Another step closer.
            “Because I promised Master Li that I would do this for him.”
            He reached out and ran the side of his forefinger down her right cheek. “You were
promised to me before you promised him . . . Or have you forgotten?”
            Rin swallowed hard, the heat between her thighs increasing, a slight . . . tickle forming at
the at the sensitive tip just above her woman’s entrance.
            “We are at the castle now, my Rin, and I have every to desire to completely claim what is
already mine.”
            A pleasant shudder ran down the length of her spine as his finger trailed down her neck
and dipped beneath the collar of her training uniform, caressing the juncture between her neck
and shoulder. “I want to . . .”
            He left no room for her “but” as he removed his hand from her collar and slipped it
around her waist, pulling her lithe form flush against his. “You will accompany me to my
chambers, and we will enjoy ourselves.”
            The last two words he spoke were delivered as a verbal caress to her outer ear, “My
mate.”
            Rin groaned softly feeling that familiar hardness press against her lower abs, his hand
rubbing slow circles into her lower back.
            “Can you refuse me now, my Rin? Will you send me back to my chambers alone and
unsated?” He brought his lips threateningly close to hers, his warm breath blowing sweetly
across her dry mouth.
            “I . . .”
            “Yes?”
            She braced the palms of her hands against his chest and pushed against him. “I can’t.”
            Of course, her puny push did nothing to move the demon lord, but he did loosen his grip
on her waist. “Rin.”
            “I can’t!” She pushed against him again, and this time he released her. “Master Li is
dying and I promised–I promised, Sesshomaru, I promised that I would continue to train with
him up to the moment of his death. When. He. Is. Dead. I may do as I please. Until then, my
time is not my own, and I cannot stay with you tonight.”
            Her lord took a few steps back and regarded her. “You reject me,” he said simply.
            “I . . .” She wasn’t rejecting him, just staying with him tonight.
            “You reject me in favor of a failing, human monk.”
            “I don’t favor anyone. ‘Nature is not kind. It treats all things impartially. The Sage is
not kind, and treats all people impartially.’”
            Sesshomaru frowned.
            Dammit, she cursed inwardly. She had no idea where that came from. Spouting Taoist
philosophy certainly wasn’t the way to earn her lord’s respect.
            “Taoism?” he questioned. “You seek ‘enlightenment,’ my Rin? You wish to become
one with ‘the Way?’”
            “No,” she shook her head. “I mean, I’m just doing what Master Li says right now. He
says to study Lao Tse, and so I do.”
            “And if he told you to kill me while I slept, would you do that as well?”
            “No!”
            Sesshomaru turned to leave, not bothering to throw her a backwards glance. “I shall
leave you to your master, Rin. This Sesshomaru will not beg for the favors of any female, and
he does not repeat himself.”
            “What does that mean?” she asked.
            He didn’t answer. He stepped out into the hallway and pulled the door closed behind
him.
            Rin frowned, her eyes slightly misting over. Does that mean . . . he won’t invite me to
his chambers again? He won’t pursue me anymore? He . . . doesn’t want me anymore?
                                                                8 8 8
            The fifth day, after much talk and philosophical debate Master Sumida and Master Li
reconciled. They came to compromise. Master Sumida agreed to compromise with the
combination of Chapter 3, Chapter 7, and the very snippet Rin quoted from Chapter 41.
            Chapter 3: Without Action reads:
            Without Action
            Not praising the worthy prevents contention,
            Not esteeming the valuable prevents theft,
            Not displaying the beautiful prevents desire.
            In this manner the sage governs people:
            Emptying their minds,
            Filling their bellies,
            Weakening their ambitions,
            And strengthening their bones.
            If people lack knowledge and desire
            Then they can not act;
            If no action is taken
            Harmony remains.
Chapter 7: Complete reads:
            Nature is complete because it does not serve itself.
            The sage places himself after and finds himself before,
            Ignores his desire and finds himself content.
            He is complete because he does not serve himself.

And, of course, the snippet from Chapter 41: Following was “Love, perfected, has no climax.”
            So, Master Li’s argument was that he was paying her the highest compliment by not
complimenting her at all. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her; he simply wasn’t in a position where
he could want her. He disgraced himself, his monastery, his family, and her by becoming too
indulgent in his own whims, too focused on his own needs, his own desires. And in the process
he lost sight of people, places and things right in front of his face.
            Though his separation from Sumida was painful, it was necessary. It was also necessary
that he free her as he had been freed himself. They simply weren’t meant to walk the same path
together in this life.
            Master Sumida made only one argument over and over again from Chapter 73: Fate.
            Fate does not attack, yet all things are conquered by it;
            It does not ask, yet all things answer to it;
            It does not call, yet all things meet it;
            It does not plan, yet all things are determined by it.
            Fate's net is vast and its mesh is coarse,
            Yet none escape it.
            “We are fated to be together, Shen. Our meeting was no mere coincidence. A youkai
knows its mate by scent. I knew the moment I found you lying in that heap of snow that I had to
save you. You are him. My instincts do not lie. You left Qingdan seeking enlightenment, and I
found you. Would it hurt so much to look at the world with such a different set of eyes? ‘Fate’s
net is vast and its mesh is coarse, yet none escape it.’
            “You cannot escape your fate. You cannot escape me. You cannot leave me. You are
mine.”
                                                                8 8 8
            Early in the morning on the sixth day, Master Li died. His final words were from
Chapter 70 of Lao Tse’s teachings. The title of the chapter was “Individuality.”
            My words are easy to understand
            And my actions are easy to perform
            Yet no other can understand or perform them.
            My words have meaning; my actions have reason;
            Yet these cannot be known and I cannot be known.
            We are each unique, and therefore valuable;
            Though the sage wears coarse clothes, his heart is jade.
            Upon his passing, Master Sumida placed her hands in prayer position and bowed her
head, pressing her forehead to his chest. “I will see you soon, Shen. The Fates tell me so. You
will return to me.”
            Rin shed a few tears–some of them happy, some of them sad, and some of them simply
because she didn’t know what else to do.
            “It’s time, little sister.” Master Sumida grabbed her hand and placed it on Master Li’s
chest. She placed the palm of Rin’s other hand on his forehead. “You must do it while the body
is still warm. He meant for you to have his abilities. He meant for you to inherit them and use
them well.”
            Rin nodded, closed her eyes and focused.
            “Yes, little sister, let his powers awaken your own.”
            But . . . to fully awaken your powers you must become one with the Way.
            “You’re doing it, little sister. Keep it up. You’re doing just fine.”
During the transfer, Rin recalled Chapter 28–Becoming:
            Using the male, being female,
            Being the entrance of the world,
            You embrace harmony
            And become as a newborn.
            Using strength, being weak,
            Being the root of the world,
            You complete harmony
            And become as unshaped wood.
            Using the light, being dark,
            Being the world,
            You perfect harmony
            And return to the Way.
            “I see,” Rin said quietly. “I understand.”
            “Little sister?”
            She drew in a short, sharp breath as her heart stopped and a bright, white light flashed
before her eyes.
            “Sister?”
            Her body was pushed back from Master Li’s, slamming her through the rice paper walls.
            “Rin!”
            She opened her eyes and closed them. Everything seemed so clear now. And her lord,
he was coming for her. He was . . . worried. No . . . scared. Scared that she was leaving him.
Scared that she was going somewhere he couldn’t reach. Scared that he would never see her
again. Scared that she was . . . dying.
            But death had never felt this . . . good. She couldn’t be dying. She remembered dying.
Death was pain and suffering and dark and bloody. This was . . . pleasant. It was warm and
bright and she could just feel how much everyone LOVED her.
            Was this how Master Li felt all the time? Was this “the Way?”
            Or was it like Master Sumida seemed to think? Was she dying?
            But so what if she was? This was . . . heavenly. Nothing could possibly be better than
this.
            Rin drew in a deep breath and let it ease out in one, long contented sigh.
            She opened her eyes again, and never drew another breath.
            Somewhere, she heard Master Sumida scream. “Rin! Don’t go! You’re not supposed to
go with him!”
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In a Different Light