Inochi

By Linda

Chapter 1

On the fifth day of Sangatsu, in the year of the Dragon and the year I turned sixteen, my father passed through the Gates of Life into the Reikai. Accompanying him was one of the ferry girls of death, riding a flying golden oar. She was a beautiful spirit in flowing robes of blue and grey that shone like the inside of a shell, and with huge eyes like opals; her red mouth curved as she hovered over his laboring body and extended a pale hand to beckon his spirit forth. I could see them shimmering in the dimness of the evening light; his was a slim pale shadow devoid of color, of life.

Once my father's ki curled upward from his body like a wisp of smoke I could sense their slow, stately passage from this world to the next. My skin whispered with the feel of them moving toward the Reikai at the same moment I heard the last rattling breath my father drew. He had died of the same winter lung fever as had my mother, so many years before, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of justice in that, as his neglect of her had caused her death.

Although I followed them with my eyes, I knew the others could not see them as I could, and so said nothing, gave no sign I saw them. It was a part of the curse of my unclean blood that I had never spoken of before, and had no intention of speaking of now. In my cold dark corner where I knelt and observed the deathwatch unnoticed by the others, I pressed my hands together and murmured a prayer for his safe passage into the netherworld. Though my father had not loved me while he breathed, he had given me life, and I owed him at least that much.

My father's two latest wives and my sisters all wept openly, as did some of my brothers, though quietly, as befitted men. I watched them all, curious and dry-eyed myself, looking carefully at each one. I tried to discern whether the grief was real, or a play for the rest of the family. Some had loved him well; others had not, blaming him for the poverty in which we had always lived. I did not assign blame; it simply was as it was, and had been so for as long as I could remember. The only one as dry-eyed as myself was my oldest brother, Rei, whose face was as still and as hard as the ancient stone foxes guarding the gates to the estate. My brother Rei, who hated me far more than did the others, and whose dark eyes turned to me, full of a cold speculation that made my bones ache with sudden chill.

On the twentieth day of Sangatsu, when my uncles had finally arrived for the ceremony, we lit my father's funeral pyre. I stood separate as always from the crowd of mourners, comprised of immediate and extended family, and a single priest shivering in his white funereal robes. The day was chill with the rawness of early spring and the brisk wind filled with a cold mist that wormed its way past my thin robe, seeping deeply into me, making my bones ache. I stood there alone, back to the bite of the wind, my arms clasped tightly about myself and hands tucked into my armpits for a meager bit of warmth; my forearms and bare legs were red and hurt with the cold. My long loose black hair whipped my face, a stinging sensation minor amidst all the other discomforts.

The others huddled together for a scrap of heat, much like our goats crowded together against the bitterness of the winter wind, and had I been allowed closer, I might have shared a tiny bit of their warmth. A small thin face with a pointed little chin peered out at me from behind the shelter of her mother's body: Mai, one of my younger half-sisters, my favorite. She waved at me and smiled before her mother pulled her back around, murmuring something about paying respect to her father. As the smoke rose up into the dull grey sky, my nose filled with the scent of burning wood, flesh, and ceremonial herbs. It was not a scent I would easily forget.

The crowd was large; there were so many of us just in the immediate family. I had three sisters and a brother younger than myself, all the children of my father’s later marriages, and four older sisters, all unmarried, and four older brothers. Then there were the two wives of my father's old age, mothers to the youngest children. We had always lived in what could only graciously be referred to as genteel poverty in spite of father's noble background, poorer than many farmers were. We were all thin, our clothes patched and re-patched and mended until sometimes, our clothes were more patches than original material. Hunger growled always in my belly; I could not ever remember going to bed without that gnawing feeling, a familiar, constant companion. My father's loins had been bountiful; his fortunes had not.

When my uncles came from the southern lands to attend the ceremony, on fine-boned shining horses and accompanied by wives and servants and guards, we could not believe their resplendence. Their robes were of whispering silk, their tabi of pure white soft deerskin, their hands soft and unmarked by labor, and their faces round, shining with prosperity. Their wives were beautiful creatures equally as sleek and soft; jewels glittered like stars in their hair and ears, and about their throats and wrists. The youngest children stared at them in awe, and I could not blame them; to us, accustomed to scarcely enough to cover ourselves decently, they looked like royalty. They bore the scent of wealth, of fine silks and gold and perfumed oils; certainly nothing like us, who smelled of goats and wood smoke and cold wind.

To keep them from staring, and possibly saying things they should not, as children often did, I herded away the youngest, carrying one on each hip and whispering to the other two to follow; they came away, reluctantly, eyes huge and rounded. They had never before seen anyone with belly fat from too much food. I could feel the pitying gaze of my uncles and their wives upon the thin, wispy children, and upon my too-tall, too-thin body. I could hear them whispering about how different I looked from the rest of the children. Words like "demon-child" and "yellow-eyed kitsune-get", made my ears and cheeks burn with shame, and it made me remember why my father had always kept me hidden away on the rare occasions we had visitors. I kept my eyes down so they would not see their ugly color, so my hair would hide my face and freakish ears. I stayed well out of their paths until the ceremony was underway.

I did not like the way Rei's eyes grew so hungry watching them, nor of the looks he gave myself and the youngest children; when he looked at us, it was like watching him assess the value of the few goats and fowl we had. I didn't need to open wide the gate in my mind to sense that his ki felt blacker and colder than it usually was. Again, I had that unpleasant chill sweep over me, and a vague, growing anxiety made me even more quiet and self-effacing than I usually was.

After the ceremony, Rei disappeared into what had once been a library with my uncles, presumably to speak of our futures, and did not come out for hours. The two wives huddled together in the main room around the scant warmth of the brazier, their fine embroidered silk robes drawn closely about them as if they feared our poverty contagious, their heads together, voices low and murmuring and superior like malicious butterflies.

Kana, my eldest sister, served them from our meager supply of tea in the best of the cups we had; beside them, she looked like a ragged, dull, drab mudhen. Although she kept her eyes lowered respectfully, I could see the hunger and envy in her eyes when she looked at them, so soft and smooth and pale. They each took one sip of tea and then with delicately disappointed faces let the rest sit on the tray and grow cold. I could not understand such waste. After my uncles re-emerged, the group did not stay long; even though night approached, with its bone-chilling cold and the threat of bandits, they would not stay and set out for their homes in the south lands again. It mattered not anyway, as we had no extra food to offer them and no clean bedding for them to sleep upon.

On the fifteenth day of Shigatsu, as I carried in a basket of precious eggs from the shed housing the fowl, I saw an unusual sight. A cart drawn by a big red horse stood before our door, with a large, sullen-looking man sitting in the seat, the reins draped over his knees. Beside him sat a man equally as large, shoulders and chest covered with thick leather plates; the weak sun glinted off the long, curved blade attached to a lengthy pole. Armor, and a weapon---a naginata. The word came unbidden to me; I'd never seen one before, but somehow, I knew exactly what it was, how a soldier used it, how it looked in battle, blade flashing like lightning.... I blinked, and shuffled away the knowledge that came from nowhere, like so many other things I should know nothing about.

A tall, sleek black horse like the ones my uncles had ridden, with beautifully wrought harness and a silk-fringed saddle blanket stood tethered next to the cart, shimmering tail flicking back and forth occasionally. Mai, my more or less constant companion, stopped and stared at the men and then at the riding horse, her pink mouth open, her black eyes rounded in almost comical surprise. I could not blame her; we were so isolated in the mountains that no one ever came, and yet, within a fortnight, here sat more visitors. It was very odd indeed.

The cart was big and graceless, unlike the fine, ornate carts that had carried the wives of my uncles. The back was half-filled with straw, and a couple of old threadbare blankets lay atop the hay. The weak sun glinted on something curled next to the front of the cart. Looking more closely, I could see it was a stout, linked chain, one end fastened securely through a ring set into the wood. I became aware suddenly the driver was looking at us---no, at me, specifically---and it made me start. Generally, no one ever bothered to look at me, and it felt odd to have someone do so. I looked down quickly when his eyes, as brown as the dirt beneath my feet, settled on me, with a child-like curiosity. The guard in turn looked at us as though we were some insects he'd like to step upon, and spat upon the ground. Holding little Mai's hand tightly, shielding her from his glance with my body, I gave them both a wide berth.

"Inochi," Mai said, her voice as sweet and piping as a small bird's, "Who were those men?"

"I'm certain I don't know, Mai-chan," I murmured, slowing my long-legged stride to match her own. Something was about; I could feel a...coldness in the air about us somehow, a chill that had nothing to do with the wind, an ill-defined feeling of dread. For a long moment, I wavered in the entryway that led to the kitchen, wondering if I should find the other small ones and take them away into the forest for awhile, at least until these visitors left.

But then Mai kicked off her rush thongs in the entryway and bounced ahead of me, black hair flying like a holiday pennant. She slid open the door to the kitchen, calling a greeting to Kana, our eldest sister, announcing cheerfully that we had an entire basket of eggs this time, that I'd let her help, and she'd not dropped a single one.

Carefully, I set the basket of eggs on the worktable; they were too precious to be careless with them. It had always been one of my tasks to fetch eggs, ever since I was as small as Mai. For some reason, they never seemed to slip from or roll away from my long-fingered hands as they did with the others, and curiously, the birds, generally bad natured with the others, never tried to peck or scratch at me. I never dropped the eggs, no matter how precarious the footing, or how the others might jostle me seeking to see me fail at something that might result in punishment; one of the worst crimes was the waste of food.

Kana sat peeling a pile of tala roots for soup, the same we'd had for days upon end; our root cellar sat almost empty. I was thoroughly weary of the same soup week after week, but it was hot and filled for a little while the empty place in my belly. She rose, picked up Mai, and plunked her down unceremoniously on the stool, giving her the knife and a root to peel. A cheerful child, Mai didn't seem to mind the rough treatment, and set to work with a happy expression. Kana slanted a dark-eyed look up at me, a frown tugging at her mouth. "You," she snapped, unwilling to call me by name, as always, "Rei wants to see you in the main room. Now."

I glanced down at myself, bare legs reddened from the cold, exposed to over the knees by a too short robe and spattered with mud from the fowl yard, as were the threadbare tabi on my feet. I wiped my hands on the back of my robe; fortunately it was dark, and hid most of the stains well. As I moved to rinse my hands in the cold wash water, Kana's hand caught me in a sharp slap against my shoulder.

"Never mind that. He said now, and meant it. Go." She gave me a hard shove, but even as thin as I was, she was scarcely strong enough to send me skidding very far over the floor.

I was accustomed to her treatment; it didn't matter. With a shrug, I paused to ruffle Mai's fine dark hair, which earned me a beaming smile. Mai was the only one who truly loved me, who didn't care how ugly I was; despite eight years between our ages, I felt closer to her than to any of the others. When she hurt herself, or when she wanted to play, or when she had bad dreams at night, she came to me before anyone else. In winter, when it was so cold, she often curled up with me in my pallet to share my meager warmth. I loved her more than anyone, probably as much or more than the mother I scarcely remembered, dead long before I was Mai's age.

I padded through the chill house, encountering no one else; they were most likely out scavenging the countryside, checking the traps for small game, or fishing in the river. We grew so thin in the wintertime; summer, with its bounty, was the only time we ever looked less than skeletal. Checking traps was generally my task. The little ravenous forest demons scared the others, and with good reason, though they never seemed inclined to bother me. They simply watched me with their red eyes, gnashing their sharp teeth and flexing their clawed fingers whenever I reached a full trap before they did. They had no fear of my brothers---chittering and snarling, the demons would challenge them for a caught animal, but they faded away into the underbrush, giving ground whenever I ventured into the woods. My father had said on more than one occasion he supposed they recognized one of their own, and I had no reason to think otherwise, though I could scarcely see myself in their leathery brown skin and bright red eyes.

At the screen to the main room I paused. I could hear the murmur of voices. Clearly, my brother was not alone; the man within must be the owner of the cart parked outside. I didn't recognize the man's voice, as smooth as water-tumbled river rocks, other than to note the rhythm of his words was different than ours, more like the accents of our uncles. The fleeting sense of something amiss deepened, and anxiety wrapped more tightly around itself in my belly. Composing myself, I rapped at the wooden panel, and waited for Rei's growled order for me to enter.

Carefully, I slid the screen open, dropped to my knees just within, and closed it gently behind me. Father had been of the generation where a child knelt with head bowed before elders and was silent until addressed; I had learned that lesson quickly enough by the back of his hand, as neither he nor any of my elder siblings had wanted to look into my freakish-colored eyes. After father's death, Rei, as oldest son, had naturally taken over his position as head of the family; in a short time, he had proven every bit as authoritarian as Father had ever been. Although I did not respect him, for the sake of survival, I gave him the obeisance he demanded. As did father before him, Rei, as the eldest male family member, now literally had the power of life and death over us all.

A quick, sidewise glance let me know the man visiting us, folded onto his knees on the finest cushion we had to offer, was a man of middle years. He had long greying brown-black hair plaited in a neat braid that hung over his shoulder to the black sash wound about his slim waist. His robes were of fine, heavy, dark green cotton material, by far better than anything we wore, but less than the beautiful robes my uncles had worn. He also wore a haori, banded with white about the sleeves and embroidered there with green ivy vines. It was quilted against the chill wind and looked thick, warm, and comfortable. I wondered vaguely what it would feel like to have such a garment to shield me from the wind; I had never had an outer garment, only the thin robe I'd worn for years until it was now far too short for my height and too narrow in the shoulders. Carefully, I reached out with my mind and sought the stranger's ki. It was yellow, and calm and steady. I could sense no malevolence, only interest, his gaze steady upon me, though I dared not look up to confirm how he studied me.

"Is this the one?" Although I kept my gaze respectfully lowered, I could feel the eyes of the stranger slip over me and I felt a shiver trace over my skin, as if he had actually touched me.

"Yes, this is the one we spoke of," Rei replied. I was so accustomed to the disapproval in his voice that I no longer heeded it; it was simply background noise, expected. He made a sharp beckoning motion that I caught from the corner of my eye. "Stand up and come forward, boy."

Silently I obeyed, curious, wondering. I kept my eyes down on the floor, padding forward over the worn tatami mats until I stood before Rei. I felt ashamed I was so dirty; I wished that Kana had given me time to wash before sending me here. I did not know who the man was, but I didn't like appearing before him as I was; it seemed rude and disrespectful, somehow. As much as I wished to ask who this man was, I knew it was not my place. If Rei felt like an introduction, he would, but I rather doubted he'd extend that courtesy to me. I was a younger brother, and a despised one at that, so I naturally expected little from him.

The man rose with a rustle of his garments and made a slow circle all about me; I watched his feet step out of my line of vision and then reappear as he stopped in front of me once more. He put his hands upon my shoulders; I jumped, and my long black hair slipped over his wrists. He had big, strong hands, hands that while not as soft as my uncles', were not as work-roughened as my own. His fingers slid over my coarse robe, as if testing the shape of my shoulders and upper arms beneath the fabric. Up this close, he smelled differently than we did---not the scent of wealth my uncles had, but a slightly musky, faintly herbal smell I found very pleasing to my nose. Still, I shifted uneasily, and pulled away a fraction; he had no reason to touch me.

"Be still," he murmured, not unkindly. One hand left my shoulder to cup my chin and raise my face. I tried to twist from his grip, but his fingers tightened to hold me in place, and I could not free myself without a fight.

Surprisingly, we were eye to eye. I wasn't accustomed to seeing someone as tall as myself; all my brothers were much shorter than I was. Though we were of a height, he did not have that gangly, unfinished look about him I saw when I looked at myself in the pond. Instead, he was smooth and muscular and moved with grace and assurance. He had very clear dark blue eyes, the color of the autumn skies before the bitter cold set in; I started a little, as I'd never seen blue eyes before. Those eyes widened a fraction when I looked directly at him.

"Remarkable," he said, so softly that I was certain only I heard him, and tilted my face from one side to another, studying me. He looked at my eyes, at the shape of my face, the high cheekbones, long straight nose and defined jaw that made me look so different than the others, who had flat cheekbones, short noses, and round-shaped faces in spite of hunger. His thumb traced over my mouth, following its too-full shape, and thoroughly displeased at the odd feeling it gave me, I shied away. I bit my lower lip to rid it of the tingling sensation the touch of his skin upon mine had left.

"Be still," Rei said sharply, with a sudden hard jerk on my long hair. It surprised me; so unnerved by the stranger's closeness, his too-familiar touch, I'd somehow forgotten my brother stood close behind me. I subsided, my scalp stinging, watchful and suddenly very suspicious. In my mind's eye, I could see again the cart in front of our house, and remembered the cold, bright flash of the chain there.

"Please, Rei." I began, my voice soft and pleading, "Please, brother, don't..."

Rei's hand in my hair tightened again and he pulled, hard enough to make me arch back with a hiss of pain. My eyes stung with quick unshed tears of pain, and I blinked them back, unwilling to weep before him; regardless of how often or how cruelly he'd beaten me, I hadn't wept before him since I was Mai's age, and I would not now.

The older man made a clucking sound of disapproval, frowning. "Release him," he bid Rei, and I felt my brother's hand leave my hair. I knew my cheeks were red; I could feel the heat in them. Moving slowly, carefully, as I might around a frightened animal, the stranger slid his hands up to cup my cheeks, his touch surprisingly easy. He then smoothed back my hair to examine my ears. His forefinger traced along the upper edge of one of them, following the sweeping curve to the pointed tip. I didn't like his touch, and shifted a little on my feet; I'd always kept my ears, so different than those of the others, covered by my long hair, even in the heat of summer.

Gently, he urged me to open my mouth and looked into it. My teeth were sound and very white, my gums pink and healthy; Kana had always hated me for that, as her teeth were loose, her gums red and sore, as were most of my siblings' by the end of winter. Although I had a terrible urge to bite him as he ran his fingertips over my too-sharp canines, testing their edge, self-preservation made me curb the instinct.

But just barely. I could feel the beginnings of something whispering and uncoiling like a serpent in the back of my mind, and fearful of the consequences, clamped down on it firmly. Not the curse, not now.

Stepping back, the man made a vague gesture at the front of my robe. "Remove it."

A feeling of horror swept over me at his request, chased quickly by nausea. I clutched at the front of my worn robe as if it were precious silk. "No. ~No~---I will not." Though I had borne his touch so far, I could not do that. I could practically feel Rei's anger building, could almost sense the force of it shimmer hotly against my back. Even though I could not see him, I knew from experience his fists were clenched and raised to hit me. I didn't care. They would not see me naked.

The man looked over my shoulder at Rei, and held up a hand. "If you mark him, the whole deal is off," he said quietly. His attention shifted back to me, blue eyes so very calm, his voice smooth and as sweet as wild honey. "What is your name, boy?"

It took a moment to gather enough moisture in my mouth to be able to answer. "Inochi," I finally managed. "My name is Inochi." My entire name was Shouiriki Inochi, but my father had forbidden me to speak the family name; he said I was demon-whelp and no son of his.

"Inochi," he said slowly, as if rolling my name in his mouth and tasting its flavor, finding it pleasant. "I am Hamanari, the slaver. Listen very closely to me because I speak truthfully. I'm here to possibly buy you from your brother, Shouiriki-sama. Regardless of whether I buy you, or another does, you are to be sold off---nothing shall change that. Believe me when I say you are much better off going with me than with anyone else."

I could barely hear him over the hard, wild pounding of my heart, over the breath that seemed to catch in my lungs as he spoke in his soft voice. "I will not harm you in any way as long as you are cooperative. You'll have plenty of food, warm things to wear, and blankets at night. Your life will be much kinder, much easier than this one. You do not appear to be a foolish young man. Consider this."

"Consider ~this~," hissed Rei's harsh voice close to my ear. "The money we get from Hamanari-san for you will feed us, clothe us, and change our fortunes for the better---we will no longer be poor and hungry. To get the same amount of money, I'd have to sell the three youngest girls and the boy." He paused, and his tone went sly and malicious. "I'd have to sell ~Mai~. Could you sleep at night knowing I'd sold Mai in your place?"

My stomach twisted alarmingly, and for a moment, I thought I would disgrace myself by vomiting all over the floor. I swallowed hard, drew a couple of deep breaths, as all the air seemed to have fled my lungs. I could not even begin to imagine Mai standing here before this quiet man, stripped of her robe, sold off away from her mother and family, completely at the mercy of strangers. I was grown, big enough to take whatever happened to me; she was still so small and weak and helpless. I could not let Rei do that to her while I still breathed. But oh, how bitter the back of my tongue tasted as I gave in to his threats.

My hands shook as I undid the knot in my ragged sash, let it drop to the floor, and then shrugged out of my robe. It rustled as it landed on the floor. I had no under-robe or any other bit of clothing, not even a loincloth; for years, I never had owned anything more than this one garment. I tried to cover myself with my hands, my face burning with shame, but Hamanari gently pulled my hands back and directed them to my sides. I closed my eyes tightly, my entire body tense and practically vibrating with humiliation, my teeth and fists clenched tightly. No one had seen me naked since I was old enough to wash myself.

Hamanari's touch was quick and deft and impersonal; he examined me as if I was a farm animal, and I supposed, to him, a slaver, I was really little different. His fingers probed beneath my arms, searching for swellings or growths, as I often examined the goats. It felt very strange to have his hands move deftly over shoulders and arms and chest, and I could feel myself tremble, feel my muscles tighten beneath his touch. When his fingers moved over my nipples, rubbing at them lightly, making them bead up tightly, my eyes flew open and I gasped at the tingling sensation that streaked through my body and settled low in my belly. Afraid of that odd sensation, I pulled back a half step.

Hamanari took hold of my arms, his hands strong, and pulled me back into place firmly. Continuing down my body, his fingers traced over me, searching for signs of weakness, of illness; I knew he would find none, as I was surprisingly healthy in spite of my thinness. I was all raw bone and lean muscle; I'd never had any weight, especially since I'd started growing so rapidly as an adolescent.

His fingers lingered a fraction longer in the deep hollow of my belly, and I began to feel that curious tickling sensation in the back of my brain that presaged the curse, that meant the breaking of things about me. I tried to push it down, to make it subside, but I knew, with an awful feeling of dread, that it would not obey me this time; I was too unsettled to have firm control of it. When Hamanari's hands slipped down and cupped my genitals, pulling back foreskin to check for disease, I gasped and felt the power slip out of me, making my head pound heavily as it escaped. The bottle of sake and the cups on the tray rattled loudly, and shattered with three distinct, sharp popping sounds; I could smell the sharp scent of the cheap alcohol. I was vaguely aware of Rei's muttered curse behind me.

Still, the itching sensation in my head built as Hamanari's fingers slipped down to weigh my sac in his hand and to gently roll the stones within, feeling for deformity. The tension inside my head eased only fractionally as two of the unlit earthenware lamps burst with a sound not unlike overripe melons hitting the ground, sending cold oil spilling out over the floor, adding its rancid smell to the mix of alcohol and fear. Hamanari's glance slid to the broken crockery, then back to me with a speculative look, though strangely enough, he didn't seem surprised.

As though in a dream, I let him turn me so my back was to him. Gently, he brushed the long hair away from my back, and it draped over my chest. I bit my lower lip as his fingertips trailed lightly down my spine, from hairline to the tip of my tailbone. I shivered, and heat seemed to tear through my body as his fingers traced over me, pooling deep in my belly, making my flesh stir. "You have the kitsune stripe down your spine," Hamanari murmured. "That, and the color of your eyes proves your blood, though it is obviously very diluted. A pity you don't have a tail, though...that would increase your worth immeasurably."

His thumb lingered at the base of my spine, where a tail would've begun had I more kitsune blood. He inscribed a slow circle, pushing with a firm pressure, and with surprise I felt myself growing, filling, my flesh arcing out from my body, helpless to prevent it. Horrified that he could make my body do such a thing, I made a distressed sound and tried to cover myself with my hands. Pleasure wound heavy and throbbing in my belly as he continued to press, to rub at that one certain spot, and my stones drew up close to my body, full and tingling and aching. I knew that in a moment, I would explode, and my hands would be filled with thick, sticky white fluid, as when I touched myself lately. I tried to twist away, but Hamanari's free hand lay heavily on my shoulder, holding me in place.

"Let it go," he said softly. "Don't fight it."

"No...no, please...." I gasped, and my knees shook---my whole body shook---as I tried to hold in a need that would not be denied. I knew it was inevitable, but I had no wish for him, for Rei, to see such a private thing. I grasped myself tightly, but it was too little effort, too late; with a short, sharp cry, I exploded, sending warm wetness splattering onto my hairless belly and chest.

I folded down upon my knees, forehead pressed to the floor, gasping for breath, my heart pounding wildly beneath my breastbone. I felt horribly shamed, helpless, violated, treated as a thing, not as a person with feelings of my own. Betrayed by my own body; I had not believed another could, just by touching me in one certain place, make me respond in such a way. The tingling rush of pleasure was merely an echo of what I knew it could be by my own touch; stronger yet was the hot, acidic humiliation that he could so casually do such a thing to me.

"At least I know now that you are capable," Hamanari said calmly. "Clean yourself and stand up." An old, not very clean cloth fluttered to the mats beside me, and after a moment, I picked it up, my hand glistening with silvery-white stickiness and swabbed myself off, my eyes burning and my chest feeling so tight I thought I could never draw another breath. I could not look at Rei, knowing how he had witnessed---had ~permitted~---such a vile thing.

Once I was as clean as I might be, I stood, and let him bend me over at the waist. I knew what he would do next, but when his hands parted my cheeks to examine the most private part of me, a gasped sob escaped before I savagely bit off the rest. I gritted my teeth and squeezed my eyes tightly shut, praying for this to be over soon. I would not disgrace myself by weeping before them like a small child.

"Has anyone ever touched you here?" Hamanari's quiet voice asked.

My throat closed tightly and I could not speak. I shook my head quickly, very glad my long hair fell down around my face, hiding my humiliation. Evidently satisfied with his examination, Hamanari bade me rise and dress. Breathing heavily, blinking back tears, I rapidly pulled on my tattered robe, grateful for even its modest coverage, and wrapped my sash around myself twice, knotting it tightly. Never before had I felt so angry or embarrassed; the feelings tore around inside my head like a trapped animal, desperately seeking an outlet. I knew more things would break; I only hoped the curse didn't send the brazier toppling over, setting the house afire.

Calmly, Hamanari opened a pouch on his sash, and pulled out a handful of moist herbs. I could smell their sharp, astringent, medicinal scent as he scrubbed his hands with them before casting them onto the brazier. They smoldered on the coals and filled the room with wisps of fragrant smoke as he wiped his hands on a clean cloth. If he had been surprised at the breaking things around him, he gave no indication; usually people became very nervous when that happened, another reason my family generally avoided me.

"Well," Hamanari said briskly, very businesslike, "he's very thin, but regular feedings will take care of that. He has hands as rough as a peasant's, but of a pleasing shape---again, that is something I can mend. No diseases that I can see, no vermin. Good teeth, skin without blemish beneath the dirt." He paused, looked at my burning face again. "Somewhat interesting appearance. However, Shouiriki-sama, you have not dealt in good faith with me."

Rei stirred behind me; I could feel waves of desperation flooding from him, and tried to push them back, tried to keep them from seeping into my skin and mind.

"I have presented a part-demon boy to you---my uncles had told me you deal in such things, and they carried the message to you of his existence here. He is as healthy as the rest of us. How have I not dealt in good faith?" Rei's voice remained calm and steady, though I could feel his uncertainty.

"He is defective." Hamanari said firmly. "Look all about us. I do not believe these things shattered of their own accord."

I raised my eyes long enough to see the broken crockery all about, the scent of old oil and cheap sake mixing with the lingering smell of herbs, and the scent of my own fear, and Rei's growing apprehension. Hope, at first small and weak, came to life within me, and began to grow. Perhaps...perhaps Hamanari would not want to buy me. If he did not, then I could take the children and run away. Of course Rei and the others would chase us, but they were not welcomed by the forest as I was, could not melt into its cold shadows as I could....

"No," Rei said reluctantly. "But these things happen only when he is desperate---he can't do it when asked to do it or when he wishes. And this---is the worst I've seen. His curse is small, Hamanari-san. Surely he is enough of what you seek that this is only a small defect."

Hamanari raised my face, looked into my eyes, his own expression serious. "Do you change, boy? And know that I will see if you lie to me."

I blinked. "Change? I don't know what you mean."

Rei jerked my hair sharply, and I winced. "You will address him respectfully," he snarled.

"I am sorry...Hamanari-san. I don't know what you mean by changing." I repeated, softly.

His fingers tightened on my chin and those clear blue eyes bored into my own, as if trying to turn me inside out. "I think," he said at last, "that you tell me the truth. Perhaps your blood is too diluted to do more than what I've seen here." He released me, and turned his attention to Rei. "However, Shouirirki-sama, I cannot give you full price because he can prove somewhat destructive...."

I closed my eyes again as I listened to them haggle over my price. So my uncles had betrayed me; that is one of the things Rei spoke of that day when they stayed so long in the library, away from the others. I wondered what else they and Rei had plotted. My head ached horribly; it always did after the curse escaped and things broke. I wouldn't fight; that I'd be sold regardless of my wishes was a foregone conclusion. If I fought, or tried to run away now, they'd take the younger children in my place, and I could not allow that to happen. A plan began to form in my head, though it was still as insubstantial as a dream. I would be obedient, at least until I thought it safe to try and escape. And escape I would; I'd somehow come back and take Mai away before Rei sold her, also. I knew instinctively he would; his hunger for money far outweighed his feelings for family, and he had always complained about the food the youngest took away from the more productive workers.

The sharp, metallic clink of coins made me open my eyes. I'd only seen the rough bronze lozenges, coins of small value, and few enough of those; I'd never before seen gold coins. It glittered and shone in the weak light like the jewelry at my uncles' fingers and wrists. Five gold pieces. I'd never seen so much money, ever, and could hardly contemplate such an amount. Was my freakishness worth that much? I glanced at Hamanari as he closed his purse. Would he put me on display for people to look at me? To call me names, as did my brothers and sisters? The thought made me shudder.

Did it matter? Regardless of how I felt, what I thought, or what I might want, it was done. My brother had sold me to a slaver. I was no longer my own person, but a belonging, a piece of property. Legally, Hamanari owned me. Bile rose bitterly in the back of my throat.

He owned me...until I could escape. My legs were long, and I had amazing speed; all I needed was the opportunity to run. I would be docile for the moment, and bide my time until I could. I would find Mai, and we'd go far away together, and start a new life. The details were fuzzy yet, but I had time to figure things out. And I would, gods be merciful.

Hamanari knelt, and from a large leather carry bag pulled out a circular object. With a little snick, it separated, opening. A collar. In spite of my newly formed resolution to be docile, I couldn't help but shy away as he approached me with it in his hands. I shook my head, eyes wide, and took a step back.

Rei materialized behind me and grasped me firmly by my upper arms, fingers biting deeply into skin and muscle. Suddenly panicked as the whole situation became ~real~ instead of merely thought, I began to struggle. I didn't want to be sold; I didn't want to be taken from the only home I'd ever known, even if everyone in it despised me. I didn't want to be separated from Mai.

I fought and scratched and tried to bite, teeth audibly snapping dangerously close to Rei's sweaty skin. Though I was taller, my brother was both heavier and stronger, and in spite of my wild thrashings, he eventually pinned me to the rough mats on the floor. I suspected that if Hamanari had not been there, I'd be black and blue from his hard fists; I was no stranger to them, as he needed little cause to beat me other than his foul temper. Speed and agility had always been my weapons, and trapped in this small room with two bigger men, I had no chance to use them. The sensation inside my head built into a dull roar, and I could hear things breaking, ~feel~ them shatter throughout the house as I fought, growing angrier and more desperate.

At last Rei sat on my back, breathing heavily from the fight, holding my wrists twisted behind me, leaning his weight into the small of my spine until I thought it would break. Hamanari knelt beside me. His hands surprisingly gentle, he brushed my long hair out of my face, fingers skimming over my cheek as he made shushing sounds. I could have bitten him, and while a small part of me wished to do so, the larger part of me could not. I could feel no enmity from him---he'd been as gentle as he could be, and I didn't think he wished me ill will; for him, it was simply a business transaction.

I panted as I stilled. With Rei sitting on me, my arms pinned securely, struggle was useless, and I only used up what little strength I had left. My head pounded as hard as my heart as Hamanari slid the collar around my neck beneath my hair and closed it with a lock. The collar was heavy, iron wrapped in leather and it set loosely around my neck to keep from marring my skin, but too closely to pull over my head. The click of the lock closing marked the end of the life I'd known, and grief welled up from deep within me, hot and bitter.

Hamanari pulled out a length of soft rope from his bag, and I felt another surge of panic. He was going to tie me. I made myself be very still, as struggle would only reinforce his decision to bind me.

"I beg you, Hamanari-san...please don't tie me. I swear I'll be cooperative...please... ~Please~...I won't fight anymore...." I scarcely recognized my own voice, low and husky and pleading. In that moment, I was willing to beg, to do almost anything to keep him from tying me. Just the thought of being so helpless, of being bound, trapped, was enough to make my heart race, make my stomach heave and twist. I'd always run as free as the wind; no one had cared enough to keep track of me for anything other than performing the chores we all had.

The older man's calm face studied me. After a moment, he replaced the rope in his bag and turned back to me, utterly serious. "I give you this chance---if you try and escape, if you give me any reason to wish I'd not tied you, I promise you ~will~ regret it. Understand?"

Relief rushed over me like pouring rain. "Yes...I understand, Hamanari-san. Thank you so much...."

His blue eyes pinned me as effectively as Rei's weight. "You will address me from this point on as ~Meijin~."

Meijin. Master. I could taste more bitterness in the back of my throat, but I nodded slowly. "Yes...Meijin."

Rei gave my left wrist a hard twist before levering himself off me; I was so relieved the slaver wasn't going to tie me that I didn't care about the hot pain that streaked up my arm. I scrambled to my feet, feeling the ache of the fight in my very bones as I pulled my robe back into place. My head pounded dully, the result of breaking so many things. It ached so much I would have been grateful if it had simply popped off my neck.

Finished with his business, Hamanari slung his satchel over his shoulder. He bowed briefly to Rei, then turned to me, his fingers closing firmly around my arm. With a tug, he started forward. "Time to go."

Mutely I followed, my head down. I ventured one last look at my brother. I could see no remorse or hesitancy in his expression at all---in his dark eyes was relief he'd finally solved part of his problem in ridding the family of me. Although I'd never eaten much, and brought in more than my fair share of gathered food, I was still one less mouth to feed, leaving more for everyone else. I was the one my father had branded bastard, demon's child, though my mother had died claiming her innocence and faithfulness to my father. I'd been lucky he'd allowed me to live; it had been within his rights to kill me had he so chosen.

Down the dim hallway, our sandal-less feet were whispery on the wooden boards. Once, I'd heard, this house had been fine, had boasted silk screens and graceful ebonwood furnishings with golden fittings, and beautiful porcelain, but as time waxed and fortunes waned, everything had eventually been sold. The house had been stripped of anything of value and was as plain as any peasant's hut. I couldn't remember seeing it any differently; all I could remember was poverty.

As we approached the kitchen, I could hear Kana's voice, angry, and Mai's sweet, high-pitched one answering. I would have faltered a moment, but Hamanari's hand on my arm did not permit it. Swallowing hard, I let him pull me in.

The kitchen was in shambles. Everything that could be broken was in pieces all over the kitchen; every dish, every crock, every bowl. I watched Hamanari take in the mess, then look back at me, his blue eyes thoughtful. I gazed back helplessly at him; I had no control over the curse. Things simply broke around me whenever I got too upset, one reason when Rei would catch me to beat me, it was generally far from the house. We had so little that we could scarcely afford to replace what my curse broke.

"'Inochi!"

Mai's voice drew my attention back out of my thoughts. She had been picking up tala roots from the floor, and her arms were full of them. Her bright black eyes rounded as she looked at first Hamanari, and then at me, held tight in his grip. Then her eyes settled on the collar lying heavily on my collarbones. I watched as the bright happy light faded from her face, leaving confusion and worry.

"He really did it," Kana said wonderingly, turning from the table, broken crockery forgotten in her red, work-roughened hands. "I didn't think he would. He sold you."

I heard a thump as Mai dropped the roots on the floor. One rolled and fetched up against Hamanari's foot, looking dirty and withered against his clean dark green tabi.

"Inochi?" Mai's voice quavered.

Hamanari moved forward, stepping over the root, on the way to the door, pulling me behind him. I looked over my shoulder at Mai, standing there looking horrified and close to tears, her lower lip trembling.

I wanted to hold her one last time. Just for a moment.

"Meijin?" Though it made my face burn to call Hamanari master, I would. We were almost to the door. "Please...a moment...."

Surprisingly, he stopped; I hadn't expected him to heed my plea. A heartbeat later, his grip on me eased, and fell away. As if he'd broken some spell, Mai launched herself toward me, barreling into my legs, locking her arms around me. I pried her off me long enough to go to my knees. She filled my arms, small and bony, smelling of dirt, of tala root, and the musky-sweet scent of little girl. I buried my face in her silky black hair; it had always been the softest thing I'd ever felt.

"Don't go...don't go, brother," she said, her voice catching.

"I don't want to go, Mai...but I have to."

Mai pulled back, her face furious, and her thin fingers closed around the leather-wrapped collar. She shook it hard enough to rattle my teeth. "Take it off now! If you take it off, you don't have to go...take it off!"

"I...I can't, Mai. I can't take it off, and I have to go away. I don't want to go, Mai, but I don't have any choice."

Her dirt-smudged, thin little face crumpled, and then she was in my arms again, her face hot and wet against my neck as she sobbed into my skin. I clutched her tightly to me, my own eyes burning, and a huge, hot, prickly something rose within my throat, too big to swallow, almost too big to breathe around. My chest ached, heavy with sorrow, and my spirit suddenly felt too old and heavy for my body to bear.

"Who will take care of me?" Her words were hard to understand, fractured by hiccoughing sobs. "No one loves me like you do...."

I was certain that my heart broke in that one instant. Nothing, not even the worse beating Rei had given me ever hurt so much as the pain I felt in that one moment.

I smoothed away her soft hair from one small perfect rounded ear, and whispered into it. "I'll come back for you, Mai. I swear I will. I'll come back and we'll go away together."

Her arms tightened convulsively around my neck. "Promise me, brother. Promise."

"I promise, imouto. I promise I'll come back for you. You'll just have to be strong for me, wait for me."

"Inochi. Come." It was Hamanari's voice, and this time, it brooked no delay. I knew I could tarry no longer without making him angry.

With one last squeeze, I pressed my mouth to her soft cheek, and tasted salty tears. I closed my eyes tightly for a moment, then opened them, and pulled away from her. She clung for a moment, and then released me. Her dirty, tear-tracked face looked up at me, solemn, and she held up her hand, little finger crooked. Equally solemn, I extended mine, and hooked around hers. It was the most sincere oath she knew.

"I'll remember," she said softly.

Everything seemed to ache as I stood up and followed Hamanari out into the entryway. Then blessedly, the ache settled into a cold numbness as I slipped on my old weather-beaten rush thongs as he slipped on his fine leather ones. I didn't look back; I couldn't look back. I was vaguely aware of the sound of pottery shards breaking into even smaller pieces. It matched the way my heart felt inside my chest.

The guard propped the naginata against the side of the cart and climbed wordlessly into the back. He tested the chain there, giving it a sharp pull. I knew that part of the display was to show me resistance was futile, but I was too miserable to care. Hamanari motioned me into the cart, and I climbed up, not looking at him, not looking at anything save my own feet moving into the harsh straw. The big man's fingers closed around my arm, and dragged me forward, but I didn't care enough to resist. Efficiently, he fastened the chain to the collar at my throat; it felt as heavy as the whole world. He gave me a push, and I sat down in the straw on my knees. Carelessly he flung the blankets in my direction, and I didn't flinch as they hit me in the chest and fell back down into the straw. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Hamanari swing up into the saddle of the black horse with fluid grace and gather up the reins, nudging it into movement.

I didn't look up as the driver clucked to the horse and slapped the reins across its rump, as the cart started with a lurch. I didn't look back when we headed out onto the rutted road leading away from the house toward the main gate. The only time I looked up was when we had passed through the gate; the ancient stone foxes stationed there on either side seemed to mock my pain with their grins and lolling tongues. I'd often stood and looked at them when I was very young, feeling as if they had some secret to tell me, some jest that made them laugh so, but of course, if they had secrets, they kept them to themselves.

It was a mystery as to where Hamanari was taking me; I had no idea of what lay ahead for me. He'd promised my life would be easier, but the word of a man who would buy me from my home meant little to me; I suspected it was just something he said to soothe me, to make me more easy to control. The past had held pain, and cold, and hunger, but even that was a familiar kind of comfort. I knew my world and my place within it. Now, suddenly everything I'd ever known meant nothing.

I felt very lost, very small, and very insignificant. I ventured a look at Hamanari, riding tall and quiet beside the cart, his long greying braid swishing against his back like a horse's tail. In profile, he was severe and hawkish, but his manner with me had been kind, in a way. Admittedly I knew nothing of him; he might be a more ill tempered man than even Rei.

Thoughts of Rei led back to thoughts of my little sister. I wondered if they would take care of Mai. I wondered if anyone would let her crawl into their pallet in the middle of the night when she had bad dreams or when she was so hungry she couldn't sleep.

I wondered if Rei would sell her.

Suddenly, I felt very cold, and it had little to do with the raw spring wind that played over the countryside. Miserable, I curled into as small of a ball as I could manage, the rough straw rustling beneath me and poking sharply into my skin, and tugged one of the blankets over myself, pulling it over my head, enclosing myself in darkness.

In a matter of moments, existence as I'd always known it had been turned upside down. I was sure of nothing any more---nothing save the vow I'd given Mai. Somehow, some way, I ~would~ return to her. She was the only one I'd ever loved, and I couldn't leave her there to be sold away, as I had been.

The chain rattled as we went over a bump in the road. Somehow, I'd escape. I'd wait patiently until they unchained me, and then I'd seize the opportunity and be free again. My sense of direction had always been flawless; even if Hamanari took me away to the far southern lands, I knew I'd be able to find my way back home.

All I had to do was wait for the right moment.

Chapter Two

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