Because I really do hate to leave things unfinished, and am sorry it has taken so long . , here is the ever-so-long-awaited…

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Chapter Twelve

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"I'm surprised he let you go this far," said Aya, manicured hand shading her eyes from the sun.

She was speaking about Sesshoumaru, of course. Rin thought she could hear a trace of worry in Aya's voice, but surely it wasn't necessary. After all, when she'd told Jaken that she wanted to go out to see the blossoms at Aya's university, it had been so easy. Jaken, for once, hadn't bat an eye; hadn't complained all the way through the trip out West. He'd been quiet; only humming to himself as he drove, sometimes tapping the leather wheel with his grainy yellow fingernail as he kept rhythm, lingering on half-beats. It was a little odd, but when was he not? And maybe he was just tired. Last she'd seen, Janken was slumped over, fast asleep in the driver's seat. Whatever had made him so tractable, she wasn't going to ask. He'd been the one who taught her not to look the gift horse in the mouth, after all. So, she'd stepped out of the car with Aya and not looked back. There was no need to worry about anything, and the day was flush and warm with beauty.

The pink photos on Aya's phone were poor shadows of the sakura, in person. The stately line of trees at the entrance to the campus looked like they bowed down before them for miles. They were like low clouds stricken by the light of a mild sunset, embraced by light above and exuding effervescent gifts of light in tiny petal-portions from its branches. It was hard to find anything like that in Tokyo that looked natural, and yet so beautiful. Definitely not in Roppongi or Azabu. As nice as the park was at the Hill, it was small; and the river in Meguro ward didn't really flow, it was mostly gray beneath the black-bark-crusted limbs of the cherry trees.

Here, you could sit; could become as soft as the grass. Just outside the car park Rin had found these funny, grassy mounds of earth, and bird song that kept to a low background buzz, drowning out every other noise, enhacning the scent of wild weeds and wet earth. It was almost surreal, knowing there were buildings for miles around, just out of sight. But for acres and acres, if they traveled deeper in, to the campus and its wood, they could be lost in an encirclement of foliage and other life.

Being a teacher, of course, Aya insisted that Rin finish her math problems before taking their walk. Rin had done it in the sunlight, the sun warming the crown of her head. Now, strolling around the campus, she couldn't shake off a strange feeling of having left more than her schoolwork behind. It felt like she was in another world. She couldn't hear cars anymore. Couldn't even see the city. Just the few bunker-shaped concrete buildings that housed students. And they were all so far apart, so shrouded by the blues of the grass; of the sky, and cherry blossoms of so many different varieties. It almost seemed they were not there at all. The air was so rich in her lungs, Rin could practically taste the world when she breathed in: like cotton candy spun up inside her, weightless and sweet. She hoped it would stick to her, that she could take it back with her to the Hills and fill up the apartment with it, in a great exhalation. "If I were you," she told Aya, as they sat before the main building with its lush leaf-tressed plum blossom trees, "I'd stay here all the time."

"Some people do," Aya laughed. "Idiots. There's no shopping anywhere; no concerts, no art."

Rin didn't voice her dissent, but it was difficult to say quiet. It didn't seem like the right occasion to argue, not when they were both so happy.

"Anyway, what would you like to do next? Do you want to walk through the forest? It's worth your time."

"How so?"

"It's the last copse of woods in all of Musashino. There were poems about these deciduous forests were in the past - prior to the advancement of Edo - how flat, easily traversed the leaves-quilted ground was; how it grew so quiet in the snow, how its shrubs were no taller than mid-thigh. Now that it's all but vanished, with the post-war expansion, this spot is protected. It has a roost for some endangered eagle; I forgot the species.… There's a vegetable garden with white radishes in the back, too. And a bamboo forest that's grown up around the oaks. And —oh. Would you like to see a dig site?"

Rin had never learned much poetry, or heard about the lands of Musashino. She might have read something, though, when she flipped through Sota's book. Hadn't it said something about the lands being controlled by a youkai lord? But the last bit of Aya's speech was particularly obscure. "A dig site?"

"You know, a place where they've done archaeological stuff. One of my friends was doing it for coursework, a few years back. This is the only university in the world with an active dig site on campus, you know. Tell you what, let's swing by. It's just this way, across from the tennis courts."

Rin assented. The trees seems to be growing bigger around her, and not just because Rin was looking directly up as she walked, staring at the vaulted branches. How old could they possibly be?

Very quickly, her eyes caught onto other eyes: beady ones, black as night. Ravens' eyes. The bird's stare seemed to pass right through her, into her past, into the place where she had hidden Rika. Deeper, even.

"You could come to a place like this, you know. Have you ever thought of it?"

Rin was somewhat taken aback. "Attending university? Me? I guess, but…"

"If you tested in, I bet you'd get a place here."

Rin didn't know what to say. She had no desire to go to university, though she had to admit a place like this would be lovely to remain in. She had never meant to go to high school, not really, until she sort of fell into advanced classes under Aya's tutelage, by accident. And now, here she was: technically a first year high school student. Fifteen in a couple of weeks.

It struck her for the first time that, at some point, Sesshoumaru would stop taking care of her. Once she got old enough, he'd expect her to live on her own. Or if he didn't, others would. Humans would. She had no idea what youkai thought about parenting. That's what Sesshoumaru was, after all, wasn't it? And what he was trying to do - trying to be her parent. Wasn't he?

Jaken was always on her back, complaining, that was for sure; but Sesshoumaru? Usually he just had an implicit appearance of believing her doings to be independent of his, even beneath the same roof. Usually he just let her do whatever she wanted. Play whatever game, sing whatever song—

A loud croak; a shriek from above caused Rin to stumble mid-step. It had come from a high brand of the tree ahead — that same beady eyed bird.

"It must think we have bread with us," Aya said, frowning. "Come on, walk quickly. Ravens are smart; they'll figure out that we don't have anything for them, soon."

"Sorry," she apologized quickly. "I was day-dreaming."

These birds, Rin realized quickly, were bigger in this forest than they were in the rest of the city. Either that or there were more of them; she couldn't determine which. She didn't remember disliking them so much until this moment, and couldn't explain why. At least, not fully. She knew it would come to her, if she gave it more thought, but Aya was pushing her ahead.

She increased her pace to catch up.

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"What do you mean, Jaken?"

Sesshoumaru couldn't keep the something from his voice. That coiled rage which he had learnt to control, his unflappable visage that he had so awesomely perfected, even in the face of defilement, horror, destiny.

"This Jaken is so sorry my lord. So sorry. The demon was too much for this humble Jaken but it was no matter. She was already — We, we we — were too late—" The kappa's voice crackled through the receiver, distorted. Wet, sloppy. He spoke too close to the base: his mouth too full of saliva.

Wet.

All at once Sesshoumaru understood. The memory resurrected itself from the burial grounds of centuries past: this voice of Jaken's sounded the same as it had at that time, long ago. When Rin was truly gone. But that was not now, so why did Sesshoumaru feels so young, so angry? Like he could burst from his suit and break apart the building with his body and never care, not even for a moment?

"Jaken," he spoke firmly. To hold them both down. "I speak of the present: Where is Rin? Is she not with you?"

"Where? Where?" Jaken moaned as if in agony. "But Jaken is alone, Jaken alone follows you, follows the banks of your glory—"

"You will speak to me without riddles. Rin—"

"Oh! RIN! It was — hic— Oh Sesshoumaru-sama, Sesshoumaru-sama. Sesshoumaru-sama, Sess—"

The connection went dead, and Sesshoumaru only belatedly realized it was because he had crushed the phone in his hand. His thoughts racing, he set down his heel and spun, facing the way he had been coming. Speculative eyes of secretaries and passing accountants in the hallways averted their eyes to the walls. Stepping quickly, he returned to the office, the taste of poison filling his mouth. He gulped it down.

There were other drivers, of course. He had the option to employ them, of course. But that would take time. No: he would take the spare keys himself. Rin needed him. As did Jaken, wherever he was.

"Sesshoumaru-san! Wait!"

Hara.

She waved after Sesshoumaru as she stomped toward him, cell phone beneath her ear, writing furiously into her black leather schedule planner even as she came. The sweat was collecting at her temples, threatening to break through the line of makeup that ended at her hairline. Create new lines, new smudges, to match the minor mayhem running beneath the skin. He could smell it on her scent: anxiety. But for unnecessary things only, he was sure. It boiled. She deigned to stop him now?

"Please listen, Sesshoumaru-san, you must come back to your office; the client—"

He whipped around. Dropped the crumpled parts of his phone on the ground before her. "Hand me your phone."

Obviously hesitant, nevertheless she obeyed. Sesshoumaru scrolled through the Contacts list and dialed Rin. No answer, as he had suspected.

Another crumpled phone: also dropped to the ground.

"Where is Jaken's car?" he demanded Hara, looking up again. She had a horrified expression, stare fixed on his fingers, on the floor.

"Ah," she stopped, brokenly. "Ah. I don't… Seshoumaru-san. For some reason I cannot breathe: I'm afraid."

Yes. Be afraid. Sesshoumaru could feel the youki taking possession of him, straining against the pendant. Hara's flesh, her fear called out to him. Her body seemed to recognize him for what he was: her heart was pumping her blood furiously, as if it knew that this might be its last chance before it would be stopped. Her hands were white. She could not look away from him, eyes wide, unblinking. "Sesshoumaru-san, why am I afraid?"

He placed his hands behind his back. As if that might make her feel that he was no longer a threat. "Lock the position on Jaken's car," he demanded. "Get another for me, have it prepared in five minutes. Under the portico and ready to ascend the motorway."

"Yes, Sesshoumaru-sama," she quivered. But did as he said.

He walked to the portico, thinking of his father when Inuyasha's mother had been taken from him. Thinking of finding Rin half-dead, of stabbing her with his father's sword in vain.

He had claimed control of an empire. For years, he had run it with fear; flawlessly. But so easily did this girl control him and all his power. Just the notion of a threat and the fear that his power was insufficient controlled him, mercilessly. Wrapped its tight leash around his throat and left him dangling by it, at the edge of a dark abyss.

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Rin checked her phone. Only 10 minutes had passed since Aya had left her to get some water from a vending machine inside, and she'd thought of texting her, but she was out of cell service. Perched at the end of ravine covered in blue tarp, beyond a swing-gate with a weathered sign that read no entry in three languages, there was nothing to do but look around and wait. Usually, that would be fine with Rin. She was very patient; didn't struggle to keep entertained. But something felt wrong, something she couldn't comprehend. There were more ravens in this part of the forest. Other birds, too, that called out with different songs, but they kept seeing drifting at the edges of her sight. Seeming bigger and bigger: their claws longer, beaks sharper.

The buildings and manicured sports fields out of sight, it felt like she was at the brink of civilization. She had never felt that way before, always having been surrounded by people who were civilized. People who weren't. Her heart was beating wildly. She didn't know why, but she felt like she didn't belong here. Like she needed to leave. Like she might die.

She stood, made her way back onto the gravel path. Aya met her there halfway, PET bottles cradled in the nook of her arm.

"What's wrong? You look panicked."

Rin rubbed at her forearms, biceps. The raised hairs: the goosebumps. "Something feels wrong here. We should go. Maybe I shouldn't have left Sesshoumaru-sama, and Jaken-sama…"

Aya's eyebrows rose. "Rin, you don't sound like yourself."

It struck Rin suddenly that Aya had a habit of saying that a lot. "What do you mean?"

"Sesshoumaru-sama. Jaken-sama. You don't talk like that. What's wrong?"

Aya offered the bottle of Jasmine tea to her, and it seemed so cool in contrast to the sunny day. Condensation had collected on the plastic; ran down like soft jewels along the sides. But Rin found that even though her throat was dry, her stomach was doing flips. She couldn't drink anything, not right now. She slipped the water into her bag, readjusted the straps on her shoulder, as if that alone could defer the ache. "Nothing's wrong. If Rin wants to say it that way, that's not bad, is it? "

Pursing her lips, Aya began hesitantly, "It depends. I know that's not your real name."

Rin jerked so suddenly that her bag swung around, and the bottle of tea jabbed her ribs.

"I wasn't sure how to tell you I know," she said, voice lowered. "I didn't think I would, thought it might not be appropriate, but…"

"How did you know?" Rin interrupted.

Aya shrugged. "Adoption forms are public, and my family is placed inside the ministry anyway. We would've certainly found out that Sesshoumaru lacked cousins through those records. And we found the other book where your name is listed, Rika. The book of eta names." *1

Rin felt shame double up on her surprise. The insult was implied; obvious.You are scum. You are not like us. She'd heard this before. Never from Sesshoumaru, of course, but she had heard it. "I…"

"And," Aya continued, gaining speed or confidence or cruelty - it was hard for Rin to say which - "I know that the man you call Sesshoumaru had no connection to you prior to the adoption. To you moving in with him."

The fear had no recourse, now. Aya seemed to have sidled closer as she spoke, and Rin felt like her body was not her own; her eyes darted around the forest, as if seeking an escape, scanning for any onlookers besides the ravens.

"Why are you telling me this?" Rin asked.

"Because I can protect you," Aya replied. "My family—"

"Your family what?" Rin curled her fists. Suddenly, angrily aware that this, this was the word that held everything together. "What does your family want with mine?"

Aya opened her mouth but didn't immediately reply. A shadow passed over her face: a raven flying overhead. And then her expression was changed.

"Rin." Her voice had gone softer, too. "Rin— I know the truth. You need to know something about the man who's taken you in. I, we, want to protect you."

"Protect me?"

"He's not… may be from a different part of society, like you, but he's not human, Rin!"

Rin snapped. "You think I didn't know that?"

"What?" Aya paled. At last, Rin felt an advantage, and she didn't care. Not for herself but Sesshoumaru-sama, The only one who loved her; her saviour. She'd always known.

"Why do you say 'he's inhuman' like it's a bad thing? What business is it of yours, who or what he is?"

"Are you even listening to yourself?" Aya reached for Rin's arm as if to grab on to it, but Rin backed away.

"I thought you were my friend," she continued.

"I am!" Aya replied. Eyebrows knitting together as frustration built. "That's why I tried to get you to read about the Inutaisho's! To ask questions! Don't you see what's happened? You've been kidnapped by a monster, a youkai! Do you think this is some sort of fairy tale, some retelling of the Beauty and the Beast?"

Rin didn't even know what that was, but it didn't matter. "Just leave me alone! I'm going back to the car with Jaken."

She turned around to stalk away, shoulders shaking with anger, her whole body poised to get back out of the woods and into the safe cloister of cement, but Aya called after her. "You think this will stop here?" she shouted. "We know everything! The world's connected; wired! His story of being English isn't going to hold water for long! He's made no attempt to create an estate, a family in England - there's absolutely no record he was ever there, that he was ever born - do you know how easy that is to find out? It didn't take our investigator a single day! They can't trace back the money that founded his empire. Or where he keeps it now. And then there's you, a girl adopted from a dirty ward in Tokyo; you think we don't know why he did it? And you, why you're protecting him? I could save you, Rika! I could help! You don't have to give yourself to some — to some beast!"

"DON'T CALL HIM THAT!" It had been too much. Rin rounded, bent, and launched a wad of dirt at Aya, who threw up her hands to block it. By then Rin had already bent down, gathered another, aimed and shot it directly into Aya's hair. The blonde screamed as it crumbled across her face; caught inside her blouse.

"Stop this, Rika!" she blustered, shaking out her shirt.

"You stop!" Rin retorted, tears at her eyes. "You don't know anything!"

"Don't be loyal to him for nothing! We'll pay you, find you something reasonable, Rika, we'll—"

"My name is RIN!" she cried out, and the dirt fell from her hands.

And then she knew it, all at once: the feeling of another world.

These grounds, here.

The dirt sprinkled across the ground. Her shoe. It lifted into the air, and she ran, ran to see it for herself, to see if it was still there, to see if it was true. Aya forgotten; the campus, the city left behind, Rin ran through the underbrush, the knots of earth and ravines returning to her, along with the sound of cicadas and farmer's voices battling for dominance, along with the crash of trees being broken and splintering and blood and a youkai's final shriek and Sango's blades meeting over arteries too late.

Rin stops, out of breath, face raw with tears, scratches down the exposed skin of her legs. A burr stinging in her ankle where it meets the strap of her sandal and her hands reaching out for a post that is no longer there. She doesn't see the patchwork of homes that trace the lines of old markets, of what had been hedges between fields and paddies. She remembers the darkness as it came upon her, the hug of a friend excited to see her again so soon; quick and encompassing, cutting out her sight of all she far preferred to see. Even blotting out the shape of the crescent moon.

All of it, it had happened here: on the bluff line, near the settlement. When Rin had died.