The Trap of Innocence
Part IX
Her eyes were heavy.
Her body felt kind of heavy too.
Flickering open the lazy lids of her eyes, she focused her eyes ahead. Straight up. She blinked lazily. It was a bedroom, wasn't it? Where was she again? She'd been with Kamatari and the seals were breaking. Without really acknowledging it, she must've sensed it, she thought.
Then Aoshi-sama had shown up. The crest was taken away; it burned. She could still smell the smoke. All the seals were broken too and then… Had Aoshi-sama thrown his blade at Kamatari? She didn't remember seeing him move, but she knew the smell of Kamatari's blood. Moreover, she knew the taste of it. She'd have licked him dry if Aoshi-sama hadn't stopped her.
She remembered the after part. Her entire body had been energized. It was like someone had stuffed overcharged batteries into her belly. She'd wanted to fight, to run… to… to… It was a restless, manic kind of energy.
He'd dragged her back to the mansion.
Here.
And…
Inside that room.
No, this room.
My… she breathed softly. He'd given her something to do with all that pent up energy. She turned her head languidly to the side where he was laying beside her. His back was to her.
She stared at the scratch marks in his flesh. Had she really been that wild with him? She could see teeth marks in the crown of his shoulder. Slowly, she pulled herself up and inched toward him. The sheets rustled as she moved. Irritated, she shoved them down toward her hips. Her skin felt overly warm and the sheet annoyed her.
Raising one hand to reach out and touch him, she was caught by the sight of her nails. They were brownish around the edges where the nail met flesh, the delicate arches.
Blood.
She really had gotten that wild with him, hadn't she? Would he be angry? The bedding too was stained, she noticed, glancing at the brown markings. Blood was ugly when it dried.
"Aoshi-sama?" she whispered softly.
Part of her hoped he was asleep.
With a leisurely kind of sigh, he turned; rolled toward her onto his back and she met his bright, crisp colored eyes.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
There was something reassuring about his monotone question.
"Sorry. I… I mean… it looks like I … I mean, did I scratch you like that? That part is kind of hazy…"
For a long moment he just stared at her, naked from the neck down, but his eyes never left her face.
"Yes."
"Yes" she'd scratched him or "yes" to something else? She settled for just nodding absently.
"You bit me." He waited until she raised her eyes again to his face before speaking again. Then he raised his hand toward his shoulder. "Here."
He traced that same hand down to his chest, his long fingers sliding over his scarred, muscular pectorals. "Here." There were a set of teeth marks near his nipple.
His hand traveled lower across his abs, toward his side by his hip bone. "Here."
Further still, beneath the limp white sheet. He spread his legs wider, his hand falling between them beneath the blanket. "Here." Was his hand on the inside of his thigh or… she flushed and looked away.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Her face felt like an ember. Her whole body felt hot. How could she have embarrassed herself like that?
He sat up. She watched him for signs of pain but he gave her none. Pushing her fallen hair over one shoulder, he gently tilted her head to the side and leaned over her. With a soft flick of his tongue against her, he marked the place he wanted her. As her breath hitched in her throat, he sank his teeth into her.
Misao squirmed. The kimono she was being dressed in was heavy. How many layers did she have to wear? The obi, too, felt thick around her. She was unfamiliar with the stiff formal kimono. Why was she wearing this thing at all?
The knock on the door caused her head to snap up, startled, slamming her head into her assistant's chin. Misao frowned and the woman helping her went to answer the door, rubbing her chin. Misao couldn't remember her name. Did it start with an "O"?
Misao peered in the mirror. She was surprised… she looked so elegant. The dainty hair combs, the delicate touches of make-up… Why was he dressing her up like this? She was… did this have something to do with her being the heir of the dead Ashataru house?
"Are you ready?"
She glanced back to see her new lover behind her. He was wearing the same formal wear in black. It was odd to think of him as a "lover" considering in her somewhat short seventy-five years of life she hadn't had one before.
"Why am I all dressed up?"
"I'm inducting you to the Shinomori House."
Inducting?
"I thought I was already part of this house?"
He motioned her forward, ushering her out the door. If he noticed the tiny, tiny steps she was required to make in the formal kimono that slowed her normal pace, he said nothing.
There were more people out there by the stairs and she could see more at the base of the stairs. He led her down them noticing how as they passed the people standing about bowed. Was this how people were supposed to treat their head of house?
At the back door, an old man was waiting, a red bow tied about his little beard. He smiled as he saw them approaching.
"Good morning, Aoshi-sama, Ashataru-sama. Welcome. Are you all ready?"
"Yes," Aoshi answered.
Ashataru-sama? Were people going to call her that? Did she really need a "-sama" on her name? Was that proper? The man who had not introduced himself pulled open the door and Misao's breath escaped her at the sight beyond.
The backyard was full of people. Two huge groups with an aisle down the center. She froze, but Aoshi pulled her forward, closer and closer. The guests rose to stand, bowing as they walked by. Misao stared as she was pulled by them. She recognized Hannya near the front and beside him Shikijou, the huge towering man she worked as a guardian for… What kind of event was this? Why wouldn't he tell her? It kind of looked like a wedding ceremony.
On the other side was that other guy… from before… Saitou, she thought. The head of the House of Saitou. There were two women with him, neither Misao had ever seen. Everyone was dressed up. Why didn't she know what kind of event this was? Why wouldn't he tell her and…?
At the front of the room a man in black robes stood. "Gentlemen, Ladies… Heads of Houses, Saitou-sama, Shinomori-sama. You've all been gathered here this morning to recognize the survivors of the Ashataru House and to witness the joining of the Ashataru and Shinomori Houses."
Murmurings rose up around them, bits of conversation and speculation.
"The House of Ashataru, thought to be eliminated by the forces of Shishio Makoto, was survived by the daughter Ashataru Chiraki. Ashtaru Chiraki bore a child, another daughter, Makimachi Misao, who today will be formally joined with the House of Shinomori."
Formally joined?
Inducted?
As in…?
"Today, we will welcome the last Ashataru heir, Makimachi Misao, into the Shinomori house, as the Lady Head, mate to Shinomori Aoshi."
There was another round of murmurs and a few gasps of surprise. Misao herself was surprised.
Lady…
She opened her mouth to protest what she viewed as a twisted, unfair turn of events but a sharp glare from her "lover" stopped her. He… did she want to… do this? Become the leading female of the Shinomori house? Did, really, she have any choice? If she was the last heir of the House of Ashataru… was she obligated to formally join the Shinomori house this way? To give closure and an honorable instead of tragic end to her would-be family house? It seemed sensible. It all clicked into place inside her head, so she remained silent.
"Esteemed guests, you are invited to present any evidence to suggest this woman not be accepted by our Head of House. Stand now."
The room was silent, no one scarcely moved. Misao dry swallowed.
"The Shinomori clan gives our acceptance with our silence," the man in black continued, bowing briefly to Aoshi and then to Misao. "Makimachi," he paused and then swung an arm dramatically toward Hannya. "Hannya. Do you give your consent, for this biological child of yours, to be given to our Head of House as mate?"
The room collectively turned toward Hannya, but the masked man stayed very still. The silence was bordering on rude and negative when he finally spoke up, a tiny glint of light flashing from the forehead of his mask. "I do not disapprove."
"This is deemed as acceptance," the man in black continued, turning then to the other side. "Ashataru Chiraki. Do you give permission for this biological child of yours to be wed to the House of Shinomori?"
A woman, with hair as long as her frame stood on delicately formed feet. With a tiny, curved smile she spoke, barely audible. "I am very pleased to do so."
Misao stared at the woman in wonder. Was that tiny, submissive creature truly the one who'd given birth to her? She tilted her head in contemplation. Ashataru Chiraki looked like the women Misao had seen in old wood-block prints with the long hair and the flowing kimono's… It was surreal.
"It is deemed as acceptance. Clan elder, Okina, do you accept this woman to be our new Lady Head?"
The man with the little bow, standing almost directly behind her and Aoshi bowed deeply. She and Aoshi ended up leaning back so that he could be visualized. Without glancing at either her or Aoshi, the man answered.
"I follow Aoshi-sama in all things. I accept this woman wholly." The words were soft spoken, almost reverently and the entire half of the room belonging to the Shinomori Clan was affected. They bowed in unison.
It was startling.
Misao was starting to feel panicky.
"Shinomori-sama, do you accept this woman, whole as presented to us, as your Mate, to lead the House of Shinomori by your side, the discharge her duties to produce an heir and uphold the traditions and rules of the House of Shinomori?"
"Aa."
Misao's breath was caught somewhere in her chest. She took a moment to ponder the possibility of having swallowed it while she tried to block out the proceedings. It was too much.
"Makimachi Misao, Heir of Ashataru… You have been given acceptance by your house and heard the acceptance of our house… Do you consent to the terms presented to you? Being Mate to our Head of House, to producing an heir, to upholding our laws and traditions?"
The room waited in bated silence for her answer. Did anyone suspect she would say no? No one had disapproved and yet… was this an odd ending to a weird adventure…
To think it had all started with a peeping-tom incident. Her dry mouth opened. "Yes."
If she said anything, anymore than one word, she was certain she'd burst and she wasn't sure what would come out. Only that if she did, something bad would probably happen. Formal events had never been a strong point for her.
The man in black raised his arms. "Gentlemen! Bring the sake!"
It was a wedding party. Misao had reconciled herself to that. After being forced to ingest sake with Aoshi-sama to "seal her marriage" she was feeling a bit tipsy. Maybe she was just a bit moody.
Standing by the window peering outside in the relative peace of the hall, she was surprised when one of her wrists was grasped from behind by a large, meaty hand. She recognized Aoshi-sama's touch and turned.
"Come."
A man of few words, she thought. Too few sometimes. He led her to a room at the end of the hall. She wasn't surprised to see it held a group of select visitors. Aoshi-sama wasn't much of a partier, was he?
He led her into the room and she ended up seated next to him. The significance of her placement wasn't lost on her, as an ordinary wife of a Head of House it would've been appropriate for her to sit back, further behind him. Omasu had been chatting in her ear for almost an hour previous about what she was expected to do and act and Misao had sought some peace in the silence of the hall.
At the table with them was the other Head, the weird man Saitou, and two women. Ashtaru Chiraki Misao recognized immediately. There was no way, it would be singularly impossible forget a face like porcelain.
Saitou sported a cigarette between his thin lips and puffed on it contentedly while the two women sat in silence.
"So, congratulations," the man offered.
Aoshi nodded his head briefly.
"We're here to turn her over to you." Saitou cast a glance toward Chiraki whose head was bowed toward the floor hiding her eyes.
"Aa," Aoshi agreed. He inclined his head slightly toward Misao. "Ashataru-san has been in the custody of the Saitou House. As of today, she is being remanded to us."
Misao's lips pursed as she thought. "I don't get it," she stated plainly. "Why was she with them?"
"Distant relation," Saitou answered.
"Oh," Misao replied, her expression shifting to one of concentration. "So she's coming back here…"
"Weasel," Saitou breathed, a puff of smoke escaping his lips. "Let me make this real easy for you. Chiraki was adopted into my family years ago, but now that you've shown up, her daughter, it's your responsibility to care for her."
Misao blinked and Chiraki's head popped up, her eyes wide and child-like. "I… You're leaving me? I… have I been a terrible burden, Saitou-sama? I apologize deeply." The woman bowed so low her forehead touched the floor. Her hair spilled over the tatami like a black pool. It was picturesque in its simple beauty.
"You and the weasel belong with each other," Saitou answered shortly.
"Misao…" the woman whispered. "My baby… I was making her a doll, it's almost done."
The small milky hands slipped into the folds of her obi producing a small, almost complete doll. Misao was astonished at the fine workmanship. It was dressed in layer after layer of kimono. How many kimono had the woman made? Was she… disturbed?
"Yeah," Saitou answered. "You ought to give her that."
"Oh no," Chiraki murmured. "It isn't done yet; it has to be perfect for my baby."
"If this is too great an imposition upon you, Shinomori-san-" the other woman started to speak, but Saitou silenced her with a wave of his hand.
"It's his responsibility flatly."
"We have no problem accepting Ashtaru Chiraki into this house," Aoshi replied blankly.
The woman, Misao guessed she might be Saitou's wife, looked a bit disconcerted. Had this woman taken care of her mother for a long time?
"We will leave you then." Saitou stood and the woman next to him seemed reluctant to do so. Chiraki also stood, but the woman turned to her and took her hands.
"You're staying here, Chiraki."
"Here? With strangers?" she whispered.
"Your daughter is here to take care of you; you want to see her don't you? She's your family."
Chiraki's eyes shimmered. "My baby…"
"So you need to stay here with her."
"But… I…"
"Everything will be all right. We will see you again."
With that, the woman's clasped hands fell apart and Saitou's wife stepped back, following her husband out the door. Aoshi made no attempt to stop them, no invitations to tea or dinner; he let them go and the ensuing silence left Misao feeling squirmy.
"What just happened?" she asked blankly, staring at the woman, her mother, who had gone totally still. "This day is funky."
Aoshi slanted a glance toward her. "Let's show Ashtaru-san her room."
"She needs an attendant," Misao murmured as they quietly left the room Aoshi had had prepared for Chiraki. "She can't be alone, just look at her. What happened to her anyway? Is her head messed up?" Misao whispered anxiously in the hall.
Taking her wrist, Aoshi led her away. Their room was far, far down the hall.
"Ashtaru-san was traumatized by the slaughter of her family. It is assumed she will never lead a normal life."
Misao bit her lip, the tips of her fangs pressing gently against her flesh. The sight of the tooth drew Aoshi's attention. "So… If she's like this, how did she and Hannya have a baby? Did he take advantage of her?"
Abruptly, Misao was pulled into a side room. "Hannya's relationship with her is not of immediate importance," he murmured lowering his head, his mouth, to hers. He sucked the breath from her chest and trailed kisses down her jaw, licking then up her neck. Kneeling, he pulled his collar away, allowing it to slide off one shoulder exposing a great span of his chest. Automatically, her hands rose to press her palms against his hot, smooth skin, her fingertips finding his flat nipple, her mouth finding his shoulder.
There was a faint shudder as her tongue flicked along his clavicle and a more pronounced one as she closed her mouth over the hard box at the center of his throat and sucked. Slinking his hands away from her clothes, he dove them into her hair, angling her head, her mouth against his neck.
"Misao," he murmured.
Her teeth found him; the pleasure was exquisite.
"How could you do such a thing?" Misao growled across the table at her masked "father". Father had always seemed such a foreign term for the masked demon "man" that was Hannya. "How could you take advantage of a woman that way?"
"You do not understand," Hannya answered stonily. "She isn't always this way."
Misao, indignant, refused to be placated and slammed her fist against the table. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that Chiraki has periods of great lucidity. There are times when she isn't a wide-eyed innocent, despite how she may appear to you; she is a grown-adult woman, Misao. Somewhere in her head, that part of her personality exists."
"You said you didn't remember! That you didn't know anything!" she accused.
He shrugged absently, taking a brief glance at Aoshi-sama sitting behind her at a desk near the wall. Their Head of House was listening but showed no interest or intent of getting involved directly.
"At first I knew nothing but her name, over time I learned a few things. When I discovered that she was not… complete, what could I have said? What difference would it have made?"
Misao frowned and then flopped herself down onto the floor irritably. "Well this whole situation just sucks. You get a disturbed woman pregnant, she goes nuts and abandons me at a Temple, you and they lie to me about being a half-breed vampire, I wander around doing Guardian duty for Shikijou and meet him," she cocked a finger back at Aoshi. "And then I end up, what, married to him and with my long lost not so human mother in the place I told myself I hated for the last 75 years. This is incredibly weird."
Hannya shrugged at her again. "In actuality, things have worked out well."
"Really," she answered. "Are you going to participate in Chiraki's care, she remembers you, you know. I spent the whole morning with her yesterday, she talked about me half the morning and you the other half. You are her 'precious love Hannya'."
"Do not mock me, Misao. Do you think a woman is unable to love me because of this face?"
She was clearly taken aback by the sharp tone. "Of course I don't think that," she replied. "I love you no matter what your face looks like."
A long moment of silence followed. Misao laid her head down on the table and her eyes fluttered closed.
"Are you unhappy with the way things have worked out?" Hannya whispered.
"No. I like Aoshi-sama, despite the fact some of the people in his house are a bit weird, I even like living here. I'm not alone anymore. I don't understand about the miko's though, why did the seals work if I wasn't only half-vampire? Shouldn't they have killed me or something?"
"You grew from a very young age under the influence of holy powers. It doesn't seem unlikely that you simply became accustomed to the flow of its power although it substantially weakened you."
"When you fully regain your strength you will be a fine huntress." The voice, from far over Misao's shoulder drew her to lift her head to look back at her "mate."
"That's gross," she answered.
"We will go together," Aoshi replied flicking his eyes up at her. "I will show you how to make it something beautiful."
"Yeah, that's gross," she answered again. She laid her head back down on the table, but Hannya saw the curve of her lips.
It had been an odd journey.
AN: That's it, final chapter. And as with most things I write the beginning and end feel disconnected, or at least without the same tone.