Just
Rin
She was uncanny. Her dark eyes said that she knew more than she should know - the night secrets of the wood and vale, the reasons for the fall of stars scattering in the sky. Among the villagers, there were all sorts of rumors about her. That she was a hanyou; that she had been promised at birth to a youkai as a bride; that one day a mononoke would spirit her into the deep woods never to be seen again; that her parents had made a pact with a demon dog; that she was the abandoned demon daughter of an oni who had mysteriously transformed into a human being. None of these were really true, of course.
She, after all, was just Rin.
“Rin-chan! Wait! Wait for me!” Hana stumbled through the dense underbrush, nearly tripping over some exposed roots. The musty-wet smell of decaying leaves filled the air.
“Just follow me,” Rin answered, as she stepped carefully through the growth, the leaves and branches seeming as though they magically parted for her, creating a little path through the brush.
“Explain it to me, Rin-chan…why are we doing this? Why couldn’t we have just followed the main road? It’s only a few yards that way.” Hana puffed, catching her breath as Rin stopped in a quiet sun-splashed clearing. A little stream burbled by, fed by the mountain’s snowmelt. Busily, Hana dusted herself off, picking off bits of dead leaves and twigs from her hair and kimono.
“I left something out here, and I want it back,” Rin said simply.
“What is it?”
“You’ll see.” Rin winked.
Five years had passed since she last saw him, her last vision of him a retreating specter in the blowing snow, disappearing into the blinding whiteness. He had left her at the village where the headman owed him his life. He had told her that it troubled him to see her so cold, shivering, her legs numbly blue in the winter, and that he was not going to take her along for another winter to see her suffer. It was more than he had ever said to her.
Five years. She was now nearly sixteen. But she knew he’d return for her one day. He always did. Always.
“Ten paces from the great tree, three to the left…” Rin murmured to herself, stepping off the paces. Hana looked around at the towering trees suspiciously, tense and ready for any signs of trouble. Like any decent person, the deep woods always frightened her. She had always thought that Rin was a little crazy, being without any real fear of the enveloping darkness outside of the neatly ordered civilized world.
“Here it is.” Rin knelt, her slender hands brushing aside dead leaves at the base of a dead, half-rotted out stump. It was just like she remembered it. She reached into a hollow at foot of the stump, irritably flicking off the crawling insects that fed off the dead wood, and pulled out a dusky red lacquered box tied with a white silk cord, seemingly untainted by the touch of time but for the layer of fine dust that coated it.
“Oh…it’s wonderful,” Hana said, marveling at the craftsmanship of the lacquered box. It was inlaid with a simple design, a sickle moon with two gleaming stars trailing its wake. “Is this what you wanted?”
Rin nodded and stood up, dusting off her hands before smoothing the folds of her long pale green kimono about her, and deftly tucked the box under her arm.
“Let’s go.”
She had the dream often. Out of the light into the darkness, the wolves chased her, deeper into the forest, deeper into destiny. Flashing fangs, falling, the splash of blood against dead leaves. And then from nothing, from silence, he came. The first thing she saw was his golden eyes. The first thing she felt was the warmth of his arm supporting her tenderly. From then on, she would follow him forever, to the ends of the world.
But lately, that dream had changed. She wasn’t that lost child anymore, she was tall and slender and strong. But no matter how fast she ran, no matter how far she searched, she was always just a few steps away from finding him, just an arm’s distance out of reach as the wolves grew closer.
In the starless darkness, she woke in tears.
“Oh, I think I might have torn the hem…Mother is going to be angry with me,” Hana worried, as they made their way back. She had realized what made the path so easy for Rin to follow – it was actually a trail, albeit heavily overgrown. Looking at the deep shadows of the trees, Hana shivered, wondering how far into the forest it led.
“Quiet.” Rin suddenly stopped, her eyes darting about, searching for signs of danger. It seemed as though the forest had paused, the animals growing silent.
“What’s the matter?” Hana squeaked.
“Someone’s here.” Seconds later, a heavy crashing came through the foliage, startling birds into flight.
Rin shot Hana a quick look. “We need to run.”
Hana froze, her heart seeming as though it had completely skipped a beat from fear. Her face blanched – what if it was a hungry youkai? She’d never see her parents again, they’d be eaten and their bones cracked and…
“What’s this?” a rude voice broke the silence. A second later, three armed men appeared in the glade. Long rusty-edged katanas were strapped to their sides and their plated armor clinked as they moved. The reek of stale alcohol and sweat permeated the air.
Hana’s eyes grew wide. Wild thieves. They were worse than youkai. Her heart pounded madly, and she turned to Rin for support. Rin’s eyes flashed defiant, and she reached out for Hana’s hand, holding it tight.
“Hoy! Now here’s something you don’t see out here every day,” one of the men said, his eyes glinting with interest. A ridged scar ran up the side of his jaw and moved when he spoke, with an almost serpentine motion.
“Pretty girls like you, lost in the forest. That’s just a shame, isn’t it, Hajime?” Another spoke up. This one had a head of tufty hair where hair still grew, the rest being as bald as a melon. The third merely leered, a skinny young fellow with bad teeth, who nervously fingered the hilt of his katana as though it would leap from his belt without his approval.
“We’re not lost.” Rin tightened her grip on her lacquer box. “We’ll be leaving now.”
“No, I don’t think so,” the scarred man said, gesturing to the others who moved to try to block off the trail. “Don’t you want to have a little fun with us? No one can hear us out here, you know.”
“Go away, you bastards.” Rin scowled, trying to look fierce, feeling perhaps just a bit silly, as if a housecat pretending to be a tiger. She kept her eyes on the men, making sure that she knew where each was at all times. Hana shivered, and Rin pulled her closer.
“What was that?” Hands moved toward katanas, almost in unison, with a metallic click.
“I said, go away. Leave us alone, or you’ll regret it, I swear.” Rin could feel her hands tremble, even as one tightly held the precious box and the other held her precious friend. Ever since Sesshoumaru, her life had always been protected, but now she was on her own.
Be strong, Rin, she said to herself, silently. They’re just trying to intimidate you. Sesshoumaru would be displeased if you were weak, if you were scared, and he would be downright angry if you let some stupid fourth-rate wild thief get the best of you. She thought of all the times she had seen him standing his ground against some fearsome youkai, and tried to imitate his expression, with the same cold intensity and focus, as if ready to tear out throats at any second with a flash of claws.
It seemed to work, changing her attitude toward the situation. The wild thieves seemed to hesitate, looking at each other, puzzled.
Rin’s grip tightened on Hana.
“RUN!” In a flash, the two were off, running deeper into the forest, Rin half-dragging an extremely surprised Hana through the dense underbrush. Behind them, came the smash and crackle of the wild thieves giving them chase, shouting obscenities as they followed the path of broken branches and crushed leaves that the two girls left.
“Rin! What are we going to do!” Hana cried as they stumbled down an embankment, the wild thieves gaining quickly on them, their long kimonos hindering their movement.
“Just…keep running,” Rin panted, as they forded a small stream, the loose cobbles of the stream making them slip and nearly fall into the icy water. The wild thieves were close; they were now within eyesight. Rin silently prayed that somehow, magically, Sesshoumaru would appear to save them from this unknown horror, to take her back into his world, the world of the deep forests, so that she would never have to be lonely or afraid ever again.
“Stop that, Rin.” His golden eyes shone in the darkness, and she looked up at him, towering over her, his regal form gleaming in the pale moonlight.
“Why?” Rin wondered, a little displeased about having to quit her little game of chasing the moon in the stream. It was the perfect thing to do on a hot, muggy night like this, splashing around in the cool water and getting one’s feet good and chilled.
Sesshoumaru said nothing, ready to continue their journey. Rin thought it better not to press the issue, and got out of the water, wringing off the hem of her orange and cream kimono.
“Water-vipers,” Jyaken explained, his sensitive nose picking up on the scent.
Rin’s eyes grew wide. “What are those, Jyaken-sama?”
“Youkai. They eat humans. You can always tell if there’s a nest nearby, because of the smell. They always live near water, and have very good hearing for hunting. You see?” Jyaken picked up a stone with his free hand, tossing it toward what seemed an unassuming burrow along the bank of the stream. Sudden movement, and a glint of multiple red eyes pierced the pitch-black shadow.
“Eek! Do you think they’ll try to come after us, Jyaken-sama?”
“Not if they want to die.” Jyaken said, looking at her with great seriousness. “Sesshoumaru-sama is too powerful for them to bother.”
“Sesshoumaru-sama is very strong.” Rin nodded sagely. “He can protect us.”
The two paused, looking at each other for a second, before realizing that they were alone in the night, Sesshoumaru having left without them. A slippery slithering sound broke through the burble of the stream and the chirp of the crickets. Two pairs of eyes suddenly grew very wide.
“Aaah! Sesshoumaru-sama!”
“Sesshoumaru-sama! Wait for me!”