Inochi

By Linda

Chapter 11

I did not see Ayano until next midmorning, when it was time for her to leave. Genichi and I stood almost hidden in the shadows at the corner of the house, hoping for a moment to say good-bye to her, as no one had seen her since Soujuro had taken her to his personal quarters yesterday afternoon. I had pitied her then, trailing along in Soujuro's wake, pale, her golden eyes huge with fear.

Kyo pulled the cart up close to the back entrance of the house, ready to take her to her new home. I frowned, my fingers slipping up to touch my collarbones, remembering how the heavy collar and chain had felt upon me; it was not something I would quickly forget. When Kyo caught sight of me peering around the corner, he smiled hugely and stepped up onto the verandah to meet me. The bad memories faded, my own mouth curving up in a returning smile.

"Kyo," I said, "I've missed you."

"Inochi," he said happily, and before I could stop him, he wrapped his big arms around me and pulled me in tightly to his chest in a huge, smothering embrace. It hurt, but I would never tell him so. Kyo smelled of hay, and horses, and his own slightly musky scent, a scent that I had learned always meant comfort, and safety. My own arms wrapped about him in a quick returning hug, and I patted his back. I would have held him longer, but I was afraid that Soujuro would find us. He'd been very hateful with Kyo before, and I didn't want him to punish Kyo for a simple show of affection.

Gently, I set him aside, and smiled up at him. "You look well," I said, and in truth, he did, sleek and well fed. "Have you been eating Natsumi's cooking?"

"Sometimes," he said. "Is much better than food for stableboys. Haruna says tell you something." He paused for a moment, his brow knitting a little as he thought. "Be brave. Be good. Be...true to self." He beamed happily as he remembered the whole message. "Said I would see you before she does. So for me to tell you that."

Genichi had slipped halfway behind me when Kyo had engulfed me in his massive hug and now I felt his slim fingers close in the material of my robe and tug slightly. I looked down at him. His violet eyes were huge, and his ears lay back against his white hair as he tried to figure whether he should fear Kyo or not. I reached back, touched his shoulder, and urged him forward a little bit.

"Genichi, this is Kyo," I said gently. "He's been very good to me. He's been my friend since I've been here."

"Scary," Genichi said softly, his grip tightening on me. I'd grown accustomed to Kyo's rough, uneven, somehow unfinished looks; they had little to do with the gentle, kind man inside the skin. I had forgotten how to Genichi, always surrounded only by people who were comely, if not beautiful, Kyo might be frightening.

Kyo laughed a little, apparently unaffected by Genichi's reaction. He then squatted down to be more at a level with Genichi, who retreated even further behind me, peering out from behind my hip.

"Only look like oni," Kyo said. "Not so bad. Not bite, promise." His dirt-colored eyes lightened with humor. "Only be small mouthful, anyway."

Genichi squeaked in alarm, but I laughed, and patted his white hair. "He's only teasing, Genichi. Kyo wouldn't hurt anyone. He's a good man."

"Really?" Genichi looked doubtful, but emerged a little more from behind me.

"Yes, really," I promised, and knew it for the truth.

Kyo stood, his knees creaking a little, and looked down at Genichi. "Pretty boy. Pretty eyes." Tilting his head a little, Kyo then looked at me, from the top of my head, to the tabi on my feet, his brown eyes searching, a small spark of longing in their depths. "Is very pretty now, Inochi. Smell very good." Kyo's thick, blunt fingers smoothed over a lock of my hair, then pulled away slowly.

We both heard Soujuro's voice speaking sharply to someone else, and Kyo stepped quickly away, landing easily back on the ground before Soujuro caught him standing on the verandah. Only house slaves were allowed there, and Kyo certainly was not a house slave, smelling of the stables as he did. He bowed deeply as Soujuro stepped through the doorway, Ayano and one of the omnipresent guards behind him.

She emerged from the house, her usual grace lessened, and her sunny brightness dimmed. I thought I saw the faint smudges of rapidly-healing bruises around her slim wrists beneath the long, pale pink sleeves of her robe. My stomach twisted in sympathy; as I'd predicted, the cries I'd heard from her yesterday had not been of pleasure. Beside me, Genichi looked solemn, his small hand tucked into mine, his tail curled tightly against one leg, ears flat again. He'd liked Ayano, her merry laugh, and the way she'd sometimes play catch with him, and I knew he'd miss her.

Ayano's head remained bowed, but when she caught our scents, she gave us a sidelong glance. In her golden eyes I could see the shadowy memory of pain, relief she was going, nervousness of the unknown, and perhaps just a little sorrow at leaving us, whom she knew. Perhaps I only credited her with the thoughts in my own head, but I didn't think so. Genichi waved at her, and she nodded to him, the corner of her mouth lifting a little. I wished I could tell her she was going to a good place, that Taisoh-san would be good to her, that Msaori would be kind, but I couldn't. She would have more freedom than she had here, but slavery was slavery, regardless of the trappings.

In contrast to Ayano's troubled look, Soujuro looked calm and contented, his slim hands folded into the voluminous sleeves of his robe. His sharp grey eyes followed every move of Ayano's slim body, and the very possessiveness, smugness of his expression, made my stomach hurt. I was very certain I did not want to know what had passed between them in the privacy of Soujuro's quarters, but unfortunately, I could venture a guess.

I watched as the guard helped her up into the cart, and saw her shiver as he settled the heavy leather-wrapped iron collar about her neck. It went over the small black one she still wore, the one like Genichi's and Kin'iro's. My own fingers crept again to my neck; I well remembered just how heavy the big collar was, and her neck and shoulders were much slimmer, narrower in comparison to my own---how heavy it must be for her.

Genichi's fingers tightened in my hand, and I gave his a comforting squeeze. I knew he was thinking of the time when that collar, or one very much like it, would settle around his own throat, and Kyo would take him to his new owner. I knew he had such thoughts because I did. With any luck at all, such a thing would not happen, and Kin'iro would take him to safety and freedom.

Kyo climbed into the seat of the cart, gathering up the reins and the guard vaulted up beside him. Two more guards rode up from the direction of the stable and settled in beside the cart, the horses nickering softly to one another, harness brasses jingling. Soujuro strode to the lip of the verandah, his beautiful silk robes rustling like leaves in the wind.

"She goes to Taisoh-san's house," he said to the guard in the cart, who was evidently in charge. "You have the instructions there, so don't let this half-wit get you lost. Tetsuo-sensei has changed the wards on the collar enough to allow her to leave the grounds, but if she tries to slip the big collar, to run from you, it will still punish her. Only Taisoh-san has the spell to release it. Remind him of that."

"Yes, Soujuro-san. I shall remind him," the guard replied with a respectful seated bow. They were not going out unarmed, given Ayano's beauty and her value; I had learned from Kin'iro that kitsunes were fairly rare in captivity, and female kitsunes even more so, so Ayano was doubly valuable. Taisoh had paid the equivalent of a small fortune for her, more gold than I could even imagine. The head guard propped a naginata between his knees, resting the spear-like pole over his shoulder; the long, curving blade glinted in the sun. I'd seen the guards practicing once or twice with their naginatas, and knew how deadly and efficient they were. The other guards carried swords at their sides.

Kyo slanted a look in my direction, but wisely, did not wave to draw attention to me. I was grateful for his discretion; I didn't want Soujuro's attention drawn to us. Ayano did not look at us, but closed her eyes. Her beautiful face was as still as an icy pond, and with her expressive eyes closed, I could not tell what thoughts now ran through her head. Genichi, in all his chattering, had told me she had been a slave since birth, and knew nothing else; this was her life as she knew it. I knew she had been sold more than once, and was no stranger to this, but still, my heart went out to her. Kyo clucked to the horse and flapped the reins across its rump, and as the cart pulled away from the house with a rough jerk, the sun touched her hair and ears and tail with fire. I wished her good fortune in her new life, and that Inari, the kitsunes' patron god, would look over her.

There was little time though, for sentimentality; I did not wish Soujuro to catch us lingering about when we were supposed to be working. Ducking quickly behind the corner, I turned to take Genichi to Kin'iro for lessons when I heard Soujuro's crisp, clear voice call, "Dorei."

I stopped instantly in my tracks, but gave Genichi a little push, indicating that he should go. He looked at me, huge violet eyes puzzled, but I put my finger to my lips to tell him to be quiet, then gave him a signal to run on. He nodded in sudden understanding, and ran down the verandah, leaping agilely over a kneeling slave polishing the wooden floor, his narrow feet silent on the polished wood.

Once he had disappeared back into the house through another doorway, I stepped around the corner to face Soujuro. I bowed very low, my hair brushing the floor and then straightened, keeping my eyes downcast, as was proper, as Kin'iro had taught me. It was not difficult to do so; I did not wish to look at his smooth, perfect face, a face that hid a nature I knew to be rotten and foul.

"Yes, Soujuro-san?" I kept my voice low and respectful.

"I thought Genichi was with you?" When I didn't answer, he sighed. "Never mind. Hold out your hands."

Obediently, I held out my hands, palms up. Soujuro examined them, then had me turn them over. He made a small sound, and I was unable to tell if he were pleased or not. I had been faithfully rubbing some spicy-scented oil into my hands and arms several times a day to smooth away the roughness, as he'd bid me do, and already they looked softer, though I'd seen nothing wrong with them before.

Soujuro's own hands, slim and pale and perfect, came up and twitched open the robe upon my chest. I kept my robe folded high upon my chest, my sash tied tightly, and so he could not see much. He gave the sash an impatient tug.

"Untie this and open your robe," he said. "I wish to see you."

I couldn't help but glance around; the verandah was open and exposed, and anyone might see us. But I had little choice; I certainly didn't want to anger Soujuro again. Pressing my lips tightly together to keep in the sound of displeasure, I untied my sash, unwound it from around my waist, and unwrapped both robes, holding them open for him. The still cool morning air licked at my bare skin, made my nipples rise into hard little knots.

I kept my eyes averted as Soujuro stepped closer; I did not want to see whatever expression his grey eyes held. I could feel my throat and face burning; it was bad enough when he examined me in the privacy of the house, but humiliating in the extreme when he made me disrobe in public. I looked around, but saw only the old man raking the gravel into pleasing patterns, and the woman who polished the veranda. Both looked up a moment, then went back to their tasks, but still, I felt ashamed.

I shifted from one foot to the other, uneasy at his closeness, at his attention, but remained in place as he examined my skin. I'd always healed quickly, with a speed my family had thought unnatural; the stripes from Kuroda's whipping were even now merely pale red marks, and the bruises from his fists had already begun to turn the yellow-green hue they took before fading entirely.

"Not very much longer," Soujuro said, his fingertips tracing over one stripe that slipped over my skin, just below my left nipple. His knuckles brushed over my nipple, and the bit of flesh hardened even more at his touch, sending a little zing of sensation down my body. It made me ill; I wanted no touch from him, no pleasure, no matter how small.

"You heal very quickly; it is courtesy of your demon blood, no doubt." His hand flattened over my chest, moved in a slow, lingering caress over my skin, and I could not help the shiver that worked over me at his cool touch. "You'll probably always have youthful looks, and be as hairless and beardless as a boy for your entire life, also. That," he said after a meaningful pause, "will make you very popular."

I could not help but look up at him. His mouth curved upward in a cruel smile. "I've arranged for your sale the week after next. By that time, you should be fully recovered from your punishment, your skin free of blemish. Hamanari-san wishes you polished, but there is little I can do with such a crude lump of clay as you. House Retsoujou expects a finer product, though ultimately, it won't matter. They are purchasing you for the beauty of your face and body, not the manners you possess at the moment."

His casual insults, his references to my sale, to the life I would lead, made my heart catch and then begin to beat very hard, made my chest feel tight. I knew he could feel my heart pounding beneath his palm, but I tried to keep my expression blank, to deny him what little pleasure my fear would bring him. He laughed, softly, and leaned in close to me. I could scent him, scent his seed, and scent Ayano upon him. His voice was a bare whisper against my ear.

"And the night before you leave us, I shall send for you, as I did Ayano." He stepped even closer, and I could feel the heat of his body easily against my own. "I won't take your virginity, as that has been promised to the House, but there are other...pleasures...to be had for the connoirsseur of such things." His hand slid down my flat belly, a vile caress, and I shuddered hard. His laughter was low and musical in my ear. "Ayano was lovely, but too willing to give me her body to stop my...pleasures; you, I think, will prove more interesting."

My head pounded fiercely in tandem with my heart, and I could feel the wards at neck and wrists and ankles slither over the metal, suppressing the surge of power my anger called forth. My feet itched to run, but I dared not pull away from him, even when his hand slid slowly further downward. I gasped as his fingers closed around my flesh. I could taste bile in the back of my throat, and turned my face away from his.

When he bit my earlobe, and his fingers tightened further on me, I jumped, and hissed in sudden pain. He laughed again. "You don't like my touch, do you, dorei?" I didn't think he expected an answer, and so remained silent, gritting my teeth. "It matters not. In fact, I rather prefer the spice your resistance gives." His fingers grew more deft, more skillful, moving with purpose, shaping and stroking me, and to my horror, I found myself responding, my flesh swelling beneath his attentions.

"Soujuro-san," I said, my voice hitching with distress. My hands clenched into fists on the edges of my robe to keep from pushing him away; to do so would only earn me another visit to Kuroda. "~Please~...."

"Hn. Genichi...now, Genichi likes touch, unlike you," Soujuro said softly, with such calculation that it made my head whip back around to stare at him in alarm. His grey eyes glittered with malice and a peculiar hunger. "Soon, I'll be sending for Genichi." His voice dropped to a low purr. "He has such lovely white skin---I wager it would mark even more beautifully than yours...."

Rage surged up within me, hot and bright and piercing, overwhelming my own humiliation. The collar tightened enough upon me in response to my rage that I gasped for air; Tetsuo had constructed the spell so I could not raise a hand to Soujuro or the guards without suffering punishment. The erection he'd coaxed from me faded instantly both from the suffocating tightness, and from the horrifying picture of Genichi in this man's hands. I opened my mouth to beg him to leave Genichi be, to take me in his place, when I heard a not so discreet clearing of a throat.

"Soujuro." Kin'iro's light alto cut through any words I might have been ready to utter. I started to step away, but Soujuro's fingers closed even more tightly around me, holding me in place. I wanted away from him, embarrassed and ashamed to have someone witness Soujuro's touch.

My cheeks burning, head pounding, and the taste of bile strong in my throat, I dared to glance over my shoulder. Kin'iro's beautiful face reflected nothing, but his golden eyes narrowed as they flicked over me, robe open and exposed to whomever might walk by, Soujuro's hand between my legs.

"What do you want, dorei?" Soujuro's voice flattened a little; there was nothing but animosity between the two of them. Kin'iro was the only slave Soujuro could not touch, and Kin'iro was quick to capitalize upon it; his attitude toward Soujuro, Master of the House, was as superior and arrogant to him as to me.

"Soujuro, Hamanari-san wishes to see you in regards to Tetsuo-sensei's journey, and his own. He would speak to you in his quarters. Now."

Soujuro's eyes narrowed at Kin'iro's imperious tone. Unfortunately, his fingers also tightened even more upon me, and I couldn't help the distressed squeak that escaped me as a hot white blossom of pain centered itself between my legs.

"He'll bring a better price if he's intact," Kin'iro said mildly.

Soujuro snorted elegantly, but released me. He smoothed the long full sleeves of his robe into place as if he had not been tormenting me for the last few moments. I gasped, and my hands went to cover my genitals. I wanted to double up upon myself in wretchedness, but didn't dare move.

With a toss of his head, Soujuro swept past me, his silk garments rustling. I waited until he slipped around the corner before bending over at the waist and letting a small soft sound of pain escape. I didn't think he'd caused any significant damage, but it had still hurt.

When I raised up again, I found Kin'iro's golden eyes watching me, expressionless. I quickly rewrapped my under and outer robe, tying the belt tightly.

"You'll live," Kin'iro said. "Come. Genichi's waiting for us."

I fell into step behind him, as was proper; he'd gone to great lengths to impress upon me in my first day with him that I was most definitely not his equal, and should walk behind him. We walked around the verandah, and our steps took us through the little garden in the middle of the compound. I didn't mind; the tiny bit of nature helped to soothe me, though it could not completely ease my mind. I was so wrapped in my thoughts that I bumped into Kin'iro, who had stopped unexpectedly.

"Behind me, not atop me," he said with a little growl and a shove.

"I’m sorry," I replied. "Please excuse me, Kin'iro-san."

Although his face had set into a frown, he was still very beautiful. He and Msaori and Ayano all had an otherworldly beauty not granted to mere humans, and bodies that moved with more natural grace than I would ever possess, no matter how many lessons he gave me in how to move, to speak, to look. I could easily see why Hamanari-san forbade anyone else to touch him, why he kept Kin'iro to himself.

"What," Kin'iro growled, "are you looking at?" His long golden tail swished around his ankles. I'd learned to beware of him when that happened; he'd slapped me on more than one occasion once he'd grown annoyed enough with me that his tail started flicking.

I could feel my face grow warm beneath his gaze. "Nothing. I just...I wish...."

"Don't stutter. It's not becoming."

I gathered up my courage. "I was just thinking that I would never be as graceful or as beautiful as you." My face burned more at having spoken, and I wished fervently that I'd kept silent.

"T'cha. Of course not," Kin'iro said. "You're too tainted by human blood." His words didn't surprise me; he'd sniped at me from the very first moment he'd seen me. It was nothing new; I'd spent most of my life hearing words of that nature, though the prejudice had always been that I was too tainted by demon blood. I was not fully human, not fully demon, but caught between the two races, accepted by neither. Nothing had changed, save the viewpoint.

"Come." Without another glance back, Kin'iro glided away, and I followed.

Lessons proceeded as normal, and though Genichi was subdued a little at first, his natural good spirits soon took over. He bounced about enough that even Kin'iro snapped at him to be still, and his ears back, and his tail curled around his leg, Genichi obeyed. I was aggravated at Kin'iro for being unkind to Genichi, but his attention seemed elsewhere, and my disapproval meant nothing to him, anyway. I wondered if he thought of his plan for escape, and hoped he included Genichi in those plans.

Late in the afternoon, Soujuro appeared at the doorway. Genichi and I both knelt with foreheads to folded palms on the floor; Kin'iro didn't bother. I could see him out of the corner of my eye, sitting insolently at the low table, sipping the tea I had served him. Had served him several times, until he had finally been satisfied with my performance. Slowly I sat up, on my heels; Soujuro didn't deign to take notice, so I assumed it was all right to do so.

"Kin'iro. I have another student for you." Soujuro's displeasure with Kin'iro's disdain was clear. "Hamanari-san bought her this morning, and they've just delivered her." He stepped aside, made a beckoning motion for the new slave to enter.

She was not human. Most of Hamanari's exotics, as he called us, were demon or partly demon; the rarity brought a higher price. She was small, not much bigger than Genichi, with a slight, light build, a sharp-chinned triangular face, and huge eyes the color of the sky. A nimbus of fine, flyaway hair, shading red to blonde to golden, like the heart of a flame, sprang up from a distinctive peak. Her skin was blue, the same dark blue of Hamanari’s eyes, a most startling color. It was such an odd shade that it took a moment to register that she was actually very pretty, her uptilted eyes her most dominant feature. Her expression was a mixture of sullen and fearful, with fear the most predominant at the moment. She didn't appear very old, perhaps somewhere between Genichi and myself, her figure still boyish, but beginning to show evidence of her femininity beneath the simple white robe.

“This is Xiu,” Soujuro said, his hand falling to smooth over her narrow shoulder.

The girl bowed, a graceful little bow. "Good afternoon," she said in a soft, breathy little-girl voice. "Thank you, Soujuro-sama."

Soujuro smiled, and the girl shuddered as Soujuro’s fingers stroked over her cheek, but she didn't move away. “I’ll expect you to teach her well. She shows...promise, unlike some of your other students.” Those grey eyes flicked to me a moment, shining with malice, before returning to the girl at his side. “Hamanari-san has professed quite an interest in her,” Soujuro said sweetly. “Perhaps you might reconsider your place here, Kin’iro.”

“I have no need to reconsider anything, Soujuro,” Kin’iro said icily, and his golden eyes narrowed. I saw his tail whip across the tatami mats in annoyance.

“I am not so certain. When you are cast aside, I might consider taking you in as a personal slave. I’m sure I could find...something...for you to do.”

Kin’iro smiled, and it was a smile to make my skin prickle in dread. “I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for that day to happen, Soujuro. The hells will be as warm as a summer day before you'll possess me.”

Soujuro’s answering smile was equally as unpleasant. “We shall see, shall we not? In the meantime, instruct this one. She will be sleeping with Taki, the head chambermaid. You will not touch her; Hamanari has said that she is to remain inviolate.”

“Hn. As if I’d want ~that~.” Kin’iro tossed his head, and his golden hair shimmered. “Credit me with some taste.”

Although Xiu’s face remained still, I thought I caught the flash of something in her big pale blue eyes, but if I did, it was gone before I could discern what it was. Although I thought her pretty in an odd way, evidently Kin’iro did not, and as usual, was vocal in his opinions. Still, I felt badly for her; I’d become accustomed to his disdain of me, but I didn’t like seeing it turned on others, especially a young girl who had no choice in how she now lived her life.

“Be that as it may, heed my words.” Soujuro snapped, then turned to leave Xiu with us. “Oh, and by the by---I’ve a buyer for Genichi now. He’ll be stopping this afternoon to take a look at the boy before delivery the day after next. Have him clean and presented to me at the sixth bell.”

Genichi stirred beside me. “Soujuro-san?”

Soujuro stopped at the doorway and looked over his shoulder; I did not like the look in his grey eyes. It made me very uncomfortable---hot and cold, all at once. “Yes, Genichi?”

Genichi could barely hold himself still; his long white tail flicked about his thighs. “Does this man...does he have sons my own age?”

The corner of Soujuro’s mouth quirked upward. “No. He has no sons, but he does have many boys in his home. You won’t be alone.”

Genichi smiled happily at Soujuro’s words, as he missed his brothers and sisters very much, but I could feel my stomach drop to the floor. I glanced over at Kin’iro; his face was utterly smooth and devoid of emotion, but his golden eyes looked darker. Soujuro smiled, and closed the door behind him. I listened to his soft footfalls fade away down the hallway, and used the time to collect myself before I could make myself look at Genichi. The boy was utterly delighted with the thought of going somewhere with others his own age. The very thought of it made me ill; I knew what would happen to him. My fists clenched on my thighs with the urge to do ~something~, ~anything~ to protect him.

But, in spite of my thoughts, life went on, and I could do nothing at the moment, only hope in Kin'iro's plan of escape, whatever it might be. The kitsune flowed to his feet and stalked over to Xiu; he towered over her, and his frown was intimidating. Xiu’s chin lifted, and to her credit, she stood her ground without shaking---I’m not certain I could have---certainly not when I first met him, and perhaps not now, that I knew him. Kin’iro paced around her, looking her over disdainfully.

“What an ugly creature you are,” he said finally. “Whatever did Hamanari have in mind when he bought you?”

“Perhaps he was tired of the smell of wet dog in his bed,” Xiu answered, and I blinked in surprise. Her voice had dropped suddenly deeper; the little girl timbre was gone, and her tone was utterly contemptuous.

Genichi’s eyes grew as big as his fists, and I’m sure mine were equally as large at Xiu’s audacity. Kin’iro’s eyes narrowed, his ears flicked, and his tail whipped, all bad signs, as I'd learned. He raised his hand to slap her. I moved to stand up, to interfere, but Xiu was simply not there when Kin’iro’s hand fell; she stepped aside, out of his reach, with a speed that astounded me.

“You’re slow,” Xiu said nastily. A red light flashed through her pale eyes. “Slow and ugly and stupid. You've grown fat and complacent.”

I'd hardly registered her words before Kin’iro pounced. If I’d thought he had been quick when he caught me the other night, I was sorely mistaken; he was simply a flash of gold as he now moved. Again, Xiu simply wasn’t there; she became a blue blur of motion as she sidestepped again.

The kitsune whirled in a cloud of pale golden hair; his second pounce caught her and his far greater weight bore her to the tatami mats with a thump. Kin’iro snarled viciously, teeth flashing whitely and his tail whipping from side to side; for a moment, I thought he would tear out her throat. I gained my feet, my hands clenching into fists. I was unsure what I’d actually do, but perhaps I could distract him long enough for Xiu to escape.

But then surprisingly, Xiu laughed. Her small, slim body lay relaxed beneath Kin’iro’s muscular one, and her blue eyes shone merrily. “Get off me, dog-boy,” she said with a laugh, and pushed at Kin’iro’s hip with one small bare foot. “You only caught me because I let you.”

Kin’iro rolled to his feet in a smooth motion. “Probably true,” he conceded, and smiled. “Why in hells are you here?”

Xiu took his offered hand and Kin’iro pulled her effortlessly to her feet. Confused and curious, I looked from one to the other, and could only wonder what was going on. That they knew one another was a given; they were too familiar, too easy with each other.

“Thought you might need some help,” Xiu replied, then her pale blue eyes shifted to Genichi and I, standing there watching, Genichi half-hidden behind me, blinking out at her. Her eyes were no longer those of a child, but of an adult, shrewd and calculating.

“I don’t need help, but I won’t turn it away if offered,” Kin’iro replied. His long slim fingers moved over her bare arm. “I almost didn’t recognize you. Your eyes, your hair, your skin. Is this dye?”

“No. Jussai magicked the color; we knew Hamanari likes the different and unusual. Hell of a weird feeling when he did it. Remind me not to do it again," Xiu said with a grin. " I allowed slavers to catch me, and they brought me to Midori. Then Jussai stood at the slavemarket and drove up my price until only Hamanari could afford me. So here I am. I’m worth twelve gold pieces, I’ll have you know.” Her grin slashed whitely across her face. “Match that, fur brain.”

“I can’t,” Kin’iro replied with a laugh. “He only paid eleven for me.” His eyes flashed with viciousness that made a shiver ripple down my spine. “But then, I’d just bitten a handler’s fingers off, so my price was a bit on the low side.”

Xiu laughed. "I can imagine. I've seen you fight, remember?" She laughed more, and it sent another chill down my spine. I must have made a little movement or a small sound, because her big blue eyes flashed toward me. “Who are the little mice?” Xiu asked, nodding toward us. “You know they squeak when trod upon.”

Kin’iro slanted a glance in our direction. “Inochi and Genichi. They will say nothing. Will you?”

He turned to stare at us with a flash of canines, and I was quick to nod agreement.

“Nonetheless....” Xiu’s pale eyes were as fierce as Kin’iro’s, and I shifted from one foot to the next, tucking Genichi partway behind me again. How I could have thought her helpless was now beyond me; she was every bit as ferocious as Kin’iro.

“Leave us now,” Kin’iro said sharply. “And keep your mouths closed. Understand?”

“Yes,” I replied, and bowed to them both. Genichi came from behind me to do the same, then slipped his hand in mine and tugged, wanting very much to leave. Xiu looked amused. “What polite little boys,” she said with a grin. “Can I play with the older one?”

I felt my face grow warm. Her look was very direct and bold, her eyes sliding over the breadth of my shoulders, down my belly, lingering at the juncture of my thighs before going on down my long legs. I didn’t I like it; she made me feel naked. Though she was pretty, she looked far too young even as "adult" Xiu to hold any interest for me. She had none of Ayano’s appeal, none of the scent that had made my body warm and hungry, the sweet musk of female kitsune that had the power to affect almost any male.

“No. Not now,” Kin’iro replied, clearly amused at my discomfort.

Genichi had led me to the door when Kin’iro spoke up. “Don’t forget what Soujuro said. Take the boy to his quarters on the sixth bell. Don’t be late, and for gods’ sakes, don't do anything stupid. Keep your mouth closed and your eyes down.”

“I shall,” I replied, and slid the door closed behind us.

“What a good-looking boy,” I heard Xiu say, a smile in her voice. “I want him.”

“He’s yours later,” Kin’iro’s voice replied. “For now, though, tell me what Jussai said....”

Genichi tugged me down the hallway, and their voices faded. He happily chattered on about going to his new home, and having boys his own age to play with, and it made a sour, bitter taste rise to the back of my tongue. Once I might have thought the same thing, but now, I knew better, and it unsettled me. Perhaps Xiu’s arrival meant that Kin’iro’s plan, whatever it was, was soon coming to fruition. I could only hope so.

We went to the kitchen for an early supper, which Cook was glad to provide us. Genichi was very glad to tell her of his sale, and to speculate about his new home; when he wasn’t looking, Cook’s kind brown eyes met mine, and she caught the sorrow and terrible knowledge reflected in my own. When we left, she hugged him fiercely to her monumental bosom and pressed a kiss to his fine soft hair; I thought her eyes looked shiny and wet.

Genichi and I ate in the courtyard, and played catch with the bright rice-filled balls he used for juggling, until the bell rang the fourth hour and a maid appeared with an armful of clothing, looking annoyed at having to track us down. The clothes were for Genichi, a sleeveless wrapped tunic and a pair of loose trousers. Both were a deep violet color that would make his white skin even whiter, and accentuate the pale violet of his eyes.

Our next stop was the bath, and I scrubbed and soaked alongside him. I don’t think he noticed my quietness, as he was still excited at the prospect of being with other boys his own age. Once out of the tub, he dried himself and dressed, and I let him use my comb on his white hair, though it seemed to do little good, and on his long tail until the fur shone like new snow in the sun. He smiled up at me, and looked so very young that my heart seemed to contract within my chest.

By the sixth bell, we were at Soujuro’s quarters, rapping on the shoji as the last tones faded. Soujuro’s voice came to us, a sharp command to enter, and I pushed aside the screen and stepped within, followed by Genichi. Once inside, I knelt to slide the screen shut, and Genichi went to his knees beside me, his tail flicking restlessly across the smooth cool wooden floor. Neither of us dared to look up until acknowledged.

“Come forward, Genichi, and meet your new Meijin,” Sourjuro said sweetly, and Genichi was on his feet in a graceful flash of violet and white. I looked up to see Soujuro sitting in his accustomed place, a tiny shell-shaped dish of sake before him, dressed in robes of rich blue silk that shone in the light of the paper lamps like the inside of a shell. Well-trained, Genichi went into a perfect obeisance before him, forehead to the floor, tail curled around his knees, though he practically vibrated with excitement.

“Sit up, Genichi, and let Toshio-san see how pretty you are,” Soujuro directed, and Genichi obeyed instantly, smiling.

The man sitting next to Soujuro was obviously Genichi’s new Meijin. He was a large man of middle years, perhaps slightly older than Soujuro, a man who had once been heavily muscled, but had started to go to fat about the middle. It certainly didn't make him look soft, though; he had a hard look, not unlike the guards around the compound. Laying on the tatami beside him were two swords. One a longer, curved blade in a wooden sheath, the other slightly shorter, in a matching sheath. Daisho, my mind supplied---a matched set of blades, longer katana and shorter wakizashi. I blinked, and the words faded. Tucked into his sash was a long curving dagger. His shoulders were very broad, his back straight, and his hands big and scarred. Grey wove through his long dark hair, caught up by a red tie at the crown of his head, falling into a thick tail down his back. His clothes were very plain, a black robe with a scarlet under robe, cut very simply, though of rich material. This man was a soldier---high ranking, from the quality of the swords by his side. Again I wondered how I could know such things, but I knew myself to be right.

“Ah. A white nekogen,” Toshio said, clearly pleased, and his voice was like thunder rumbling over the mountains. “How very unusual.”

“Yes, isn’t it,” Soujuro agreed. “Very rare. Hamanari-san was fortunate to find him before anyone else did. His skin is perfectly white; he has no blemish or fault anywhere. His name is Genichi, and he is sweet natured and agreeable, docile and biddable to command. He has a beautiful singing voice, and his manners are quite lovely.”

I watched as Genichi blossomed like a flower beneath Soujuro’s praise. His violet eyes shone, and his mouth smiled happily. When Soujuro bade him stand, Genichi was on his feet in a flash, tail flicking around his knees.

“He looks somewhat sturdier than the last boy you sent, Joji-chan,” Toshio said thoughtfully, eyes skimming over Genichi with an assessing look. “He was not satisfactory---I prefer them to last longer than a year before becoming useless.”

“Please forgive me for my impertinence Toshio-san, but perhaps you should be a bit more...careful of your belongings,” Soujuro said delicately. “They might last longer that way. I say this only to spare you the inconvenience of purchasing new ones so frequently.”

“Hn. I weary of them quickly anyway.” Toshio took a sip of sake, then beckoned Genichi closer. He was huge in comparison to the boy, his dark eyes as hard as his hands. Tipping up Genichi’s face, he studied him, then ran a finger over Genichi’s small triangular ears. “I suppose he will do,” Toshio said, as Genichi smiled beneath his attention. “When may I expect delivery?”

Soujuro poured more sake for him with an easy grace that rivaled Kin'iro's. “Would the day after tomorrow be satisfactory? I would deliver tomorrow, but with Hamanari-san and Tetsu Sensei both leaving that day, the compound will be in somewhat of an uproar. I do apologize for any inconvenience.”

“Very well. I’ll have my staff made aware of the delivery.” Toshio drank down the sake, then beckoned Genichi even closer. Genichi moved to kneel beside him, so closely his knees touched Toshio’s heavy thighs. Toshio stroked over Genichi’s soft hair, ran his fingers down the boy’s slim neck. Genichi made a happy sound; he loved to be petted, was hungry for any sort of affection, no matter how small.

My jaws hurt from gritting my teeth so hard at the sight. It made me ill to see Toshio touch him, to know that when Genichi went to his home, that it would be more than these simple, light, innocent touches, that it would hurt him. I averted my eyes a moment, then when I glanced back, Toshio’s dark eyes were on me. I dropped my gaze instantly, not sure if the loathing I felt was evident on my face.

“You didn’t mention a kitsune,” Toshio said.

Soujuro cleared his throat, and looked displeased, as if I'd intentionally caught Toshio's attention. “This one is not available. He’s been promised to House Retsoujou. Besides, I thought him too old for your tastes. He has seen sixteen winters already.”

“Come, boy,” Toshio said, and swallowing hard, I obeyed, going into an obeisance before him.

He tapped my shoulder, and I sat back on my heels, eyes down. Toshio lifted my chin, tipped my face from side to side, studying me.

“Interesting,” Toshio said in his deep, rumbling voice.

“Intractable and not very bright,” Soujuro supplied.

Toshio’s fingers moved aside one edge of my robe, and I twitched, but remained still. “I see you’ve had to discipline him.”

I could feel heat travel up my throat and into my cheeks; I hated being talked about as if I were not there at all, or was too stupid to understand. I pressed my lips tightly together to keep from making any noise as Toshio stroked the base of my throat just beneath the bright band of my collar.

“Yes,” Soujuro replied. “He attempted to run; it is the problem of kitsune blood. He now knows the foolishness of his actions. But you are far too busy a man to deal with runaways.”

Toshio’s thick, blunt fingers fell away from me, and he picked up his sake dish. “It is as you say, Soujuro. I haven’t the time to deal with such problems. A pity though, he is not younger, as I might have been inclined to find a way to deal with it.”

“I suspect you will be far more pleased with Genichi,” Soujuro said, his smooth voice placating. Soujuro snapped his fingers, and my eyes went to him instantly. “You may take Genichi back to his quarters, dorei.”

I bowed again to the floor, as did Genichi, and rose, my movements still stiff, but regaining some of my natural fluidity. Genichi slipped his small hand into mine, bowed again to Toshio, and allowed me to lead him away. I was very aware of Toshio’s dark eyes on us, watching every movement we made.

As I closed the screen behind us, I breathed a soft sigh of relief to be out of their presence. My skin seemed to crawl. Genichi had already scampered halfway up the hallway, waving to one of the slavegirls he knew.

“Is he untouched?” I could hear Toshio’s rumble very clearly. I pressed my ear to the screen, unable to stop myself from listening.

“Yes, we’ve made certain of that,” Soujuro said. “Most of our customers prefer the property to be fresh.”

“Hn. It’s never really mattered to me,” Toshio replied. “They generally must be retrained, regardless.”

“Indeed,” Soujuro said, and the thoughtful, speculative tone of his voice made me shiver. “I shall remember that in the future when you weary of this one or he is no longer of use to you.”

I pushed away from the door, wrapping my arms about myself, my stomach turning in a most unsettling way. I followed Genichi’s husky voice down the hallway; he’d caught Kin’iro on the way to Hamanari’s quarters, and was telling him all about his new Meijin, his slim hands flying around like butterflies in the air. Kin’iro smiled and ruffled his hair, then glanced up at me.

“The day after next,” I said quietly.

Kin’iro tweaked Genichi’s ear, which resulted in a little insulted yowl from the boy, and gave him a gentle push in my direction. “Off to bed with you, kit,” he said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

He turned as I took Genichi’s hand to lead him off to our quarters, and glided down the hallway. At the corner he turned and looked at us both. I could not read his expression; it was utterly blank, as still and perfect as if he’d been made of porcelain.

“Please, soon,” I said softly.

His ear twitched, so I knew he heard me. But those golden eyes told me nothing, offered no reassurances before he blinked, and disappeared around the corner. I made myself smile for Genichi, who beamed up at me in return, and we went to our own quarters to curl together to sleep.

Genichi fell asleep after a few moments, but it was a very long time before sleep finally came to claim me.

Chapter Twelve

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