Inochi

By Linda

Chapter 12

The next morning, the whole house was in an uproar as Genichi and I went to get a bit of breakfast before reporting to Kin’iro. Cook was rushed and uncharacteristically snappish; she thrust a heel of bread, dried apples, and a jug of water into our hands and told us to be on our way. I asked what the problem was, but none in the kitchen heeded me enough to answer.

With a shrug, I took our bread and apples and led Genichi outside to sit on the veranda at the back of the house, where we could watch and be out of the way. The courtyard seethed with activity; I’d never seen it so busy, and neither had Genichi. His violet eyes were huge as the stable help brought out a cart and several horses, Hamanari’s fine black riding horse amongst them. From the way his long tail twitched, I could tell he wanted to be out in the middle of things, looking at this or that as his curiosity was terribly strong, but he had sense enough to stay by my side and out of trouble. I spotted Kyo's broad shoulders amidst all the others and waved. I didn't really expect him to answer, as he was busy, but he smiled back at me, then looked around before coming to stand on the finely raked gravel just beneath the lip of the veranda.

“Ohayo,” Genichi said, though he was still obviously very wary of Kyo.

“Good morning, koneko,” Kyo replied with a grin. “Is maybe two bites this morning. Grew some during night.”

Genichi laughed, a pleasing little trill. Kyo’s kind brown eyes flicked to me, and he reached out to touch my knee before pulling back. “Look tired, Inochi. Not sleep well?”

“No, but it is all right.” He didn't need to know my dreams were always vivid with images of Kuroda, of Soujuro, of Genichi lost and hurt, of Mai, sold away into a brothel---it would serve no purpose and only make him worry. I offered him slices of my dried apples, and he took them with a smile. “What’s going on this morning? I’ve never seen so many people running around like this.”

Kyo’s massive shoulders moved in a shrug. “Only told to get out best cart for travel to town, and Hamanari-san’s horse for Meijin. Not told why. Just do as told.”

I chewed on the apple slices thoughtfully. It was not a slavecart, as I had been in on the trip here; this one was fine, enclosed by heavy rich red curtains, more like the carts my uncles’ wives had ridden in. I wondered who it was for; certainly not Hamanari, as he always rode his own horse, and it stood tethered by the cart, black coat shining like one of Soujuro's silk robes in the sun.

“Big journey. Saw several guards getting ready to go. Don’t know where, though.” Kyo licked his fingers to get the last bit of sweetness from them.

“Are you going, Kyo?” I asked as Genichi offered me the earthenware jug of water.

“Not going. Going to town tomorrow.” He looked over at Genichi, and the bite of bread I tried to swallow seemed suddenly too large to go down. I choked, then took a swallow to wash it down, which didn’t help. Kyo leapt up to the veranda and patted my back until I waved him away; it hurt more than helped. With a whoop, I caught my breath, eyes watering.

“Is all right?” Kyo looked very worried, his big hand stroking my back, smoothing over my hair.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” I disentangled myself, pulling back. “Please, Kyo...get off the veranda before someone sees you and punishes you.”

He gave my chest a little thump and squeezed my shoulder before he scrambled off the veranda. Just in time; the door swooshed open in its track. Genichi and I automatically moved back on our knees, clearing the doorway.

Hamanari stepped out into the warmth of the morning sun, Kin’iro close by his side, his leanly muscled arm around Hamanari’s waist. If they had been any closer, they’d have been sharing clothing. Kin’iro’s golden eyes were heavy looking, and his mouth slightly swollen, his scent heavy and redolent with musk and sex. Hamanari’s hand moved over Kin’iro’s back in a slow stroking motion from the nape of his neck to the slight swell of his buttocks, though his hawkish profile was alert, his mind clearly on other things. Kin’iro slanted a glance at us over Hamanari’s shoulder, a sharp, hard look before his eyes faded back into that hazy, satisfied look I knew now was nothing but show.

Genichi and I went into obeisances, making ourselves as small and inconspicuous as possible. It seemed to work; no one said anything to us, and slowly, we straightened, sitting quietly against the side of the house, watching everything that happened around us.

“It seems you’ve just returned, and now you must leave again,” Kin’iro said softly, and nuzzled against Hamanari’s throat. “I shall miss you, Ari-sama.”

Hamanari petted over the length of Kin’iro’s smooth shining hair, and smiled indulgently. “It’s only two weeks. And if I know you as well as I think I know you, you’ll not be sleeping alone many of those nights.”

Kin’iro laughed, low and soft, the tone of his voice filled with such intimacy that it made my belly clench. “I don’t deny it. I take flesh while you’re gone, but only you take me.” His slim hands moved over Hamanari’s chest in a slow, loving caress. “Only you.”

The transformation of the Kin’iro I knew, sharp and bitter, into this soft, clinging creature who smelled of sex and the promise of pleasure frankly astounded me; they were like two completely different men. The looks he gave Hamanari were the sultry ones I could not manage to produce, and his low alto voice had a husky tone and seemed to work its way into my body; it made my blood rush faster and hotter throughout my body, made me wriggle uncomfortably.

But it clearly pleased Hamanari; the corner of his mouth crooked upward and his hard face softened. His hand smoothed over Kin’iro’s cheek with a gentleness that surprised me. Kin’iro leaned into the caress, his lips curved into a smile, eyes shadowed by long dark lashes. And then in that moment I realized by the Meijin’s expression that Hamanari truly cared for Kin’iro, had feelings that ran deeper than a Meijin-dorei relationship. I was not certain why it surprised me so, but it did. Kin’iro had said they had been together for two years, and from the gossip I heard in the slave quarters, the whispers that floated all around me about those in power, Hamanari did not sleep with the other slaves, only Kin’iro.

Although I suspected that Kin'iro was by nature such, I thought it little wonder Kin’iro was so arrogant; in our world, he had power other slaves would never have. Loved by the Meijin, cosseted like a precious belonging, given only the very best of everything, he led a life of leisure and wanted for nothing. But golden bracelets and anklets and silken garments and a life of ease could not soften the fact that he was still a slave, still not his own man, was not permitted to run free, to make his own decisions. How many times had I seen him stand at open shojis, a desperate hunger to be free visible in his eyes befor he ruthlessly hid it away from everyone? A prison was still a prison, no matter how fine and beautiful it might be.

I heard the soft pad of feet on the polished wood as someone else stepped to the open doorway, and scented a far too familiar scent of incense. “Hamanari-san.” Soujuro’s voice was a sweet song, and fell pleasantly on the ear. “I have come to wish you a safe and pleasant journey.”

Soujuro’s blue robes swept across my shoulder and thigh as he emerged from the house, and I pulled back as much as possible to prevent him from touching me again. He bowed deeply to Hamanari; his long dark braid brushed across the polished veranda, and his golden earrings swayed gently. Although his handsome face was pleasant and his mouth smiled, his eyes did not, and glinted stormcloud grey.

“Thank you, Soujuro,” Hamanari replied. He separated from Kin’iro long enough to pull a chain of keys from the sash wound around his slim waist. Kin'iro leaned in close and unseen by Hamanari, peered over the Meijin's shoulder, his face sharp and wicked. His golden eyes glinted hatefully at Soujuro and he leaned in to lick Hamanari's neck, as his hands moved possessively over the Meijin's shoulders. “As grandfather will also be leaving, I entrust you with the care of my home and my belongings. I will be gone a fortnight, and I may concentrate on business without worry, knowing you are in charge.”

“It has always been as such, Hamanari-san,” Soujuro replied. “My interests, as always, are your interests.”

Hamanari smiled, and clasped Soujuro’s slim, pale hand in his own broader, darker one as he presented him with the keys. I knelt closely enough I could see the slight color flash momentarily across Soujuro's high cheekbones, and I could smell the reaction of his body, the rise of his scent in response. The evidence of my nose didn't lie; I'd smelled such a scent often in my captivity. I flashed a look in Kin’iro’s direction to see if he’d caught the scent, as his nose was much keener than my own; if he did, his face did not change expression. So that was how things stood. Hamanari would never know Soujuro desired him, but Kin’iro and I, with our superior senses of smell, would. I wondered if Soujuro knew Kin'iro and I could smell his desire for Hamanari, and decided probably not; if he'd thought such a thing, I supposed he would make our lives very difficult.

And then Hamanari turned away and stepped to the edge of the veranda, calling for Kyo to bring his horse. He mounted up and slung his carry bag over his shoulder. One of his men handed him a slightly curved short sword, and he tucked it into his sash, as I'd seen Msaori do. Three of his men mounted up beside him, clucking to their horses, arranging themselves and their equipment. Two were armed with naginatas, and all three carried swords. I wondered idly where Hamanari was going under such guard, but it mattered not as it had no true impact upon me.

Kin’iro stepped off the veranda and glided over to Hamanari, slim hand catching hold of his ankle as to bid him stay a moment. Hamanari looked down at him, surprise a fleeting expression on his face, then smiled and leaned down. Kin’iro stretched upward, offering his mouth for a kiss, and his hand smoothed over Hamanari’s cheek in a caress.

“I shall miss you, Ari-sama,” Kin’iro said, so softly I almost didn’t hear him. “Safe journey to you and a profitable business transaction.”

Hamanari smiled, blue eyes very warm and pleased. He sat up straight in his saddle, then wheeled his horse around and started for the gate, his men gathered about him. At the gate he turned back and waved, and Kin’iro nodded in return. The gates closed behind Hamanari with a final, heavy clang.

“How very touching,” Soujuro said, his voice sweet and poisonous.

Kin’iro leapt lightly to the veranda, his movements as fluid as water. His golden eyes glinted with malice, all the softness gone. “Fuck you, Soujuro,” he said, so quietly that only Soujuro, Genichi, and I heard him. Beside me, I heard Genichi’s quick intake of breath. Soujuro was feared by everyone, and for Kin'iro to say such things made us all nervous, as Soujuro was likely to take out his anger on any of us.

Surprisingly, Soujuro laughed. He tucked the keys into the orange sash wound about his waist. “I think,” he said smoothly, “that the next two weeks shall prove most interesting indeed, Dorei.”

“Hn.” Kin’iro snorted elegantly, and swept by Soujuro with a dismissive, contemptuous swish of his long, full tail.

Soujuro tapped his chin thoughtfully with one graceful finger. “Most interesting,” he repeated, and his grey eyes swept over Genichi and I, sitting quietly in the shadow of the house. He smiled, and it was the smile I remembered when he had visited me in Kuroda’s chambers. It made fear and loathing tingle down my spine and spider out through my entire body, made my breath catch and my heart pound hard beneath my breastbone.

And then he slipped into the house in a swirl of silk. I became aware of the fact that I trembled, ever so slightly, and clenched my hands into fists to stop it. Genichi leaned close, and touched my arm.

“Are you all right, fox-chan?” he asked, his husky voice soft. “You look sick to your stomach.”

I drew a deep breath and patted his hand. His skin was as soft as Soujuro’s robes, and my hand looked dark against his whiteness.

“I’m all right,” I said quietly. I made myself smile down at him, and his violet eyes looked less worried. His mouth smiled up at me in return. “Why don’t you show me how to juggle? I don’t think we’ll be having lessons today, for some reason.”

“Really?” Genichi looked pleased and excited. He bounced to his feet in one smooth, feline movement; it took me a moment longer, though I was not nearly as stiff and slow as I had been before.

“Yes, really. I’ll pick up our things here and meet you in the room where we take lessons. I think your juggling balls are in there.”

With a happy sound, Genichi ran off down the veranda and disappeared around the corner, his bare feet whisper-quiet on the polished wood. I gathered up the remains of our meal and tied them into a little bundle with the cloth the cook had wrapped them in, and picked up the earthenware jug of water. Standing on the edge of the veranda, I looked out over the courtyard.

Although the courtyard still hummed with activity, fewer people circulated now that Hamanari was gone; I didn’t see Kyo any more. I remembered in that moment hearing Soujuro talk to Toshio about how Tetsu sensei was leaving on a journey as well as Hamanari, and so it explained the uproar. I looked at the gate, now closed, and guarded as always by a man wielding a naginata. I had studied the movements of the guards while I was under Haruna’s care; I knew their posts and movements as well as anyone who bothered to observe them. They tended to change their patterns frequently, but even those changes had a sameness about them. I knew that if I had noticed the patterns, Kin’iro certainly had.

This was what Kin’iro had been waiting for, I realized with a sudden clarity. He had been waiting for both Hamanari and Tetsu to leave the compound, and now that day had arrived. Hamanari had the loyalty and command of his guards to put down any rebellion quickly, and Tetsu’s magical powers could strengthen the wards around the compound, making it impossible to escape.

Even one of them there alone would decrease his chances of pulling off whatever plan he had in mind. He had been waiting patiently for a time when the two of them happened to be gone at the same time, and Soujuro left in complete control. I had no idea how he planned to escape, but Xiu’s arrival surely meant that Kin’iro had others outside the walls, waiting to help him. And they had mentioned a mage; evidently, that was how Kin’iro intended to get himself past the wards, given the collars would kill us if we passed beyond the gates.

I didn’t know what his plan was, and truly, didn’t want to know. All I cared about was that it succeed, and that he take Genichi with him. I would stay behind and face whatever fate lay in store for me and eventually, escape on my own, no matter how long it took. A part of me longed to leave with Kin’iro, but practically, I knew it only a wish. As I’d told Kin’iro, I had too many wards that would take too much time to disable. I had accepted the fact I would remain behind, and had made peace with my decision.

With a soft sigh, I brushed back my hair and turned my steps toward Genichi. As I’d suspected, Kin’iro was not there, nor was Xiu, for which I was grateful; I didn’t care for her bold and evident interest in me. Instead, I spent the morning with Genichi, learning to juggle the small rice-filled balls. At first I was clumsy and dropped them frequently, but soon caught on and was able to keep them in the air almost as well as Genichi, which pleased him to no end.

At noon, Genichi and I went to the kitchen and Cook gave us food, which we ate there, her temper much improved from the morning. As quiet and unobtrusive as always, I listened to the gossip of the kitchen girls, and learned that Tetsu Sensei had left late in the morning on a pilgrimage to a shrine in the mountains which rose up to the west of the city. They expected him to be gone for most of the week. It was a journey he took every year, as regular as clockwork. That Hamanari was gone at the same time was a rarity, and none of them liked it, as it left Soujuro in charge.

The girls speculated with dread that now that Hamanari was gone, Kin’iro would be on the prowl looking for bed partners; none of them liked him, and they all feared him. My cheeks grew warm with embarrassment as they spoke of him; although they conceded that he was beautiful and smelled wonderful, he was not generous to them on their futons, and sought only his own pleasure. When their complaints of him grew too descriptive, I took Genichi and fled the kitchen, trailing their laughter behind me; I had no desire to hear what he did or did not do to them. They were still leery of me, though I had been nothing but polite and deferential to them. I could hear the cook scolding them and ordering them back to work.

I carried a basket of food back to the room Kin’iro gave our lessons, and he stood there at the open shoji screen, looking out into the garden. The warm, fragrant breeze lifted his golden hair from his shoulders. He glanced at us then his eyes went back to the garden. I set out food for him, as serving him was one of my tasks, and even though he didn’t turn from the doorway, I performed it as he had taught me. My movements were slow, graceful, deliberate, and I made his place setting a work of art. I poured tea as he turned from the open doorway and folded himself onto his cushion.

I presented the cup of green tea to him as he had instructed me, bowing low, eyes downcast, hair pooling on the tatami mats. The heat of the tea leached through the thin porcelain and burned my fingers as I waited for him to take it, and it had begun to hurt my fingertips before he plucked it from my grasp. I didn’t pop my fingers into my mouth; I’d learned quickly not to do that, and instead, surreptitiously rubbed them against my thighs.

As he ate, I focused my attention wholly uponhim, anticipating his every need, quiet and submissive. He watched me intently, and although his gaze unnerved me with its intensity, I didn’t falter in any movement, performing each of them as well as did Genichi.

“You have been paying attention,” Kin’iro said at last, grudgingly.

“I do heed your words,” I said softly. “I watch, and learn. And I am not so stupid that I cannot anticipate what you intend,” I said, and raised my eyes to his.

Kin’iro took another sip of tea. “Perhaps there is yet hope for you, farmer boy,” he said at last. His voice lowered, and he spoke in a soft voice pitched to kitsune hearing. I shifted closer to catch his words. “Tomorrow, be certain to keep the boy close at hand. Do what you must to keep them from taking him out of here because once he’s gone, I have no way to find him again, and won’t risk trying. Keep your eyes open and your ears sharp, and be ready for anything. I won’t wait, and I’ll leave without him if you aren’t there. Understand?”

I nodded. “I understand completely,” I said as softly. “It will be as you say.”

His golden head nodded and one tall ear twitched, and that was the extent of our conversation. I watched Genichi run down one of the garden paths, a flash of white and violet, and my heart felt as light as his feet. I could bear my own fate knowing he was safe, and realized after a moment that I smiled.

I became aware of Kin’iro’s attention upon me again, and looked up to find him gazing at me speculatively. But I didn’t care; I was happy for the first time within recent memory.

I did not see Soujuro for the remainder of the day, and I was inordinately grateful. I spent the day primarily in Genichi’s company; Kin’iro and Xiu drifted in and out of our presence, and what they did when they were away from me, I didn’t know, and didn’t wish to know. The less knowledge of their plans I had, the better off I was; I knew I was not a brave man who could hold out under torture should Soujuro decide after the escape to do such a thing. That revelation should have bothered me, but I knew myself fairly well and had no illusions about what I might do once Kuroda had me in his chamber of horrors. I knew just how much pain he could so easily inflict.

Genichi and I ate our supper, bathed, and retired to our small room. I piled the two futons into one, and he curled against me, purring, and I stroked his back until he fell asleep. He’d drifted off with his long tail clasped in one hand; sometimes he did that, and I think it gave him some sense of comfort, like a human child sucking his thumb. Even though he was terribly excited about going to a new home, it still meant leaving us, leaving the people he’d grown to care about and who cared for him. I knew he would miss me; he’d told me so in the bath, and he had been very clinging all evening. One of his little white ears twitched against my jaw; it tickled, and I shifted to avoid it. He was so warm; he never slept with clothes, and I’d never been able to convince him to wear a sleeping robe, as I did. He simply didn’t see the point, and had no idea why I still felt vaguely embarrassed by his casual nudity.

Sometime after that, I did fall asleep, and unsurprisingly, I dreamt of Genichi, lonely and afraid, calling for me, Kin’iro and Ayano. It was not a pleasant dream.

I was not certain what woke me, but late in the night, my eyes snapped open. Perhaps it was the tread of heavy feet. Perhaps it was the screen sliding open. I opened my eyes and blinked at the lantern that filled our room with golden light. Blinded by it, I squinted and put my hand to my eyes.

A guard strode in, the lantern in hand, and looked around. I moved to sit up, to untangle myself from Genichi, but I wasn’t quick enough. The guard reached down and flung the covers from us. Genichi awoke with a surprised little squeak, big violet eyes blinking, pupils contracting to bare slits as he tried to accommodate to the light after darkness, confused at being woken from a deep sleep. He yowled as the guard reached down and jerked him from the warm futon, dragging him naked across the cold wooden floor, his white skin stained yellow by the light of the lantern. Their shadows upon the wall writhed like things out of nightmares.

“What are you doing?” I demanded. Fear and surprise made my voice climb upwards a notch, to break as it had not a year ago, since it had changed and deepened.

The guard paid me no heed, which didn’t surprise me, and turned to drag a howling, terrified Genichi from the room. Genichi spat and hissed and struggled so much, all fluid, sinuous arms and legs that the guard simply picked him up by the scruff of the neck, as if he were in his cat form, and tucked him under one beefy arm. By that time I had untangled myself, gained my feet and stood at the doorway.

“Where are you taking him?” I blocked the doorway, but I was no match for him; he was taller and almost twice as broad. The sweep of his arm caught me in the chest and sent me crashing into the wall opposite, and for a second, I curled into myself, gasping as pain surged through my back.

But it wasn’t enough to stop me. I shuttled the pain away to some other part of my mind, picked myself up and ran after them down the hallway. Darting in front of him, I demanded again to know what he was doing, where he was taking Genichi, trying to slow him down, to distract him, but I was as of little importance to him as an ant. He shouldered past me, pushing me roughly aside. I caught up with him again, and repeated my question. A struggling nekogen filled one arm and he held the lantern with the other hand, so he couldn’t swing at me as he so clearly wished to do. His face was as black as a thundercloud, and promised dire punishment when his hands were free. I didn’t care; my whole attention was on Genichi.

We turned a corner. My stomach suddenly plunged to my feet, and my hands grew cold. I knew well where we were. Soujuro’s quarters lay at the end of the hallway. I knew, with a sickening, dread certainty, what Soujuro wanted.

“No! No, I won’t let you do this!” My voice rose until I yelled at the top of my voice. “Stop now! Let him go!”

Of course he would do no such thing. I had no way to stop him; he was bigger and stronger than I was, and certainly wouldn’t listen to any demands or pleas I might have. Desperate, I saw an opportunity. Moving faster than I thought I could, I darted in and pulled the cane from his sash in a quick movement and hit him across the jaw and chest with it, putting every bit of power I possessed into the swing. It was enough to stop him and make him stagger; I still had the muscle gained from working for Haruna. A huge red welt rose immediately on his dusky skin. I yelled and attacked once more as he roared with outrage and raised his arm to ward off the second blow; it impacted on his forearm, and left another big welt.

And then I learned I could not assault a guard and have such an action go unpunished. I felt a quick hot flash of the wards activating on collar and cuffs, and then pain, worse than any pain Kuroda had dealt me, drove me to my knees. It streaked down my spine, down arms and legs, then tore back upward to circle about my throat and stabbed hotly into my brain. I let out an involuntary cry; never had anything hurt so much before, not even when Kuroda had whipped me. The collar contracted around my throat, cutting off my air, squeezing so hard the edges of the collar cut into my skin. I could feel something warm well up beneath the collar, and smelled the coppery scent of blood. My own blood. I gasped in panic, and dropped the cane, trying to draw air into my lungs.

The guard set down his lantern and cursing foully dragged me by the front of my robe up to my feet. He slammed me hard against the wall five or six times, until my vision greyed, and any air I had left in my lungs whooshed out, leaving me breathless and terrified. My fingers scrabbled at the collar, but they were heavy and numb; the cuffs had squeezed my wrists just as ferociously as had the collar about my throat. For a moment, it was as if I was drowning, when Kin’iro held my head beneath the water. Black spots seemed to dance before my eyes and then explode, the pieces spreading to cover my vision.

He released me, and I slid bonelessly to the floor. The collar eased, and I finally dragged in a long, ragged breath; never had air tasted so sweet. The back of my head pounded from hitting the wall, and my brain felt flayed. My back was on fire, aching and throbbing from the guard’s counterattack. I was vaguely aware of Genichi yelling and calling for me, and it was only his voice that kept me from sinking into unconsciousness. I staggered to my feet and launched myself at the guard again. I knew I had no hope of stopping him, but I was so tired of feeling helpless, as I had for the past several months.

All the noise had woken everyone in the slave quarters. I’d been vaguely aware of shoji screens cracking open as we passed, and the examination of wary eyes, but knew I could expect no help. No one wished to go against the guards, and by extension, against Soujuro. I could not say that I blamed them much; the punishment was too severe, and all feared Kuroda.

Another guard appeared, drawn by all the noise. I scrambled to put myself before Soujuro’s door, though I knew it was useless.

“It’s ~wrong~ to do this! Don’t take him in there!” I pressed up against the shoji. “Soujuro-san, please...please don’t do this...take me instead, please!”

Soujuro didn’t answer; I truly didn’t expect him to do so. I pitched my voice lower, pleading. I'd beg, if it would help at all. “Please...I’ll do whatever you want....”

Rough hands tangled in my hair and in the back of my robe, and pulled me away. I struggled wildly, kicking and trying to bite---anything, to get free. But the second guard held me as easily as the other held Genichi. The door slid open, and I had a final look at Genichi’s tear-streaked face, violet eyes huge and terrified, before the door slid closed with a soft swoosh sound.

“What in hells is going on here?” The voice was quiet, but carried, a clear, ringing alto.

Kin’iro. I looked over my shoulder and he stood there, dressed only in his loose trousers, his blond hair rumpled, as if he’d just come from his bed. He looked wide-awake though, and terribly cross; his tail switched about his legs, and his ears twitched. The lamplight shone golden on his perfect, smooth skin, across the leanly-muscled expanse of chest and flat belly.

“Kin’iro---he has Genichi!” I made another attempt to break free, and the guard cuffed me, hard enough to make my head spin.

The kitsune didn’t need to ask whom I meant; his golden eyes flicked to the doorway, then back to me, still struggling. The aggravated expression faded into a carefully blank look, all emotion wiped from his face and eyes as if it had never been.

And then he shrugged and turned away, his movements as fluid as a brook.

“Kin’iro!”

He turned back, and looked at me. “What?”

“You can’t just leave him in there....” I could not believe he would simply walk away; he ~knew~ what Soujuro would do to him, how he would hurt the boy. Kin’iro liked Genichi more than he liked anyone else---how could he leave him?

“What Soujuro does with the other slaves is no business of mine,” he interrupted coldly.

I stopped struggling and stood still in the guard’s grip. “Please...you know what he’ll ~do~ to him....”

“What he does or does not do is no concern of mine. Besides---I have no power to stop him.”

I suddenly felt very cold. In my limited world, Kin’iro had a lot of power and was unafraid to wield it. I knew he wasn’t afraid of Soujuro; he treated him with disdain, as an inferior creature, and I think that even had he not been Hamanari’s favorite, he would not have been any different. He held all humans in contempt, as weaker and less intelligent than himself. I could not understand why he would not help Genichi when, if anyone could act, it would be him.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, to try and convince him to interfere when I heard a sound that made every drop of blood in my veins freeze. Genichi screamed, the high-pitched, piercing shriek of a child terribly hurt. The sound cut off abruptly, but seemed to echo in my ears forever. I lunged toward the door, and wrenched free of the guard’s grip, but only for a moment before he caught me by the hair and brought me up short. My vision blurred with tears, but it was not for the pain I felt. Heat and ice tore through me by turns, and for the first time in my life, I hated someone with enough passion to kill. Had I possessed the power that manifested itself when I tried to escape, Soujuro would be nothing but smoking ash now.

From the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of cream and gold. Kin’iro. He moved toward the door, slowly and resolutely, his face still eerily blank. When he passed the guard and I, the man stirred and pulled out his cane, intending to punish Kin’iro for attempting to interfere. Kin’iro whirled in a river of golden hair and caught the cane on the downward stroke, moving so quickly I had not even seen the motion. A little flick of his wrist, and it came easily from the guard’s hand. Kin’iro threw it down the hallway where it clattered against the wall, and then drew himself up to his full height.

If a look could have flayed skin from bone, it would have been the look Kin’iro leveled at the guard. Gone in that moment was the petty, vindictive tyrant I’d always known, and in his place was someone I’d never before seen, fierce and terrible and unworldly in his regal beauty. He had told me he’d been a lord before his capture; now, I believed it. I could feel a...power of some sort radiating from him, shining from his golden eyes, something I’d never felt before. Had I still been able to see his aura, I knew it would have been bright. Whatever it was I felt made the guard pull back a step.

Kin’iro turned and pushed open the door. He stood in the doorway, one hand on the door facing, the other on the screen's frame. His tail lashed.

“Soujuro. Let him go,” Kin’iro said. “It was never about the boy, and we both know it.”

He stepped into Soujuro’s quarters, and when he moved, I could see within. The guard who had taken Genichi stood against the opposite wall; he came to wary attention when Kin'iro stepped in, his hand at the cane on his belt, but Soujuro stilled him with a nod. It was easy to spot Genichi, with skin as white as milk; he lay on his stomach on cushions before Soujuro, his hands tied behind his back with a red cord that trailed over his skin like a trickle of blood. Soujuro knelt behind him between his legs; his black robe opened over his own slim thighs. He had Genichi’s tail in one hand; the other was down low beneath the boy, where I could not see it for the cushions. Genichi’s face was red and streaked with tears as he looked up. “Kin’iro-san,” he gasped.

Soujuro had a hatefully smug expression on his face. He looked up and smiled at Kin'iro, the smile of the victor. It made me want to vomit.

“Now, why should I wish to surrender my little toy?” Soujuro asked smoothly. “He is so very young and sweet and virginal. He’s a prize. And he cries so prettily, too.” Soujuro’s hand moved beneath Genichi, and the boy yelped in pain.

I could see nothing of Kin’iro save his back with the golden stripe that ran down his spine, but I watched the ripple of muscle, the tightening of his broad shoulders, the way his slim hands with the long, sharp nails flexed. His tail flicked again, and I knew well from previous experiences with him that it was an expression of anger, as surely as the twitch of his ears.

“You don’t want a child with no experience,” Kin’iro said, and his voice was as smooth as water flowing, with no trace of anger that I knew he felt. “He can give you nothing but terror, and as sweet as that is, it isn’t enough for someone like you. He’s not strong enough for you, not enough sport. You need someone who can offer more of a challenge.”

“Indeed,” Soujuro replied, almost cheerfully. “It is as you say. He will break too easily for me, though he is nekogen and far tougher than a human of his age. But he is all I have at the moment, and so I must amuse myself with him.”

His hand moved, and Genichi struggled before going very still, gasping, his eyes huge, pupils dark and dilated almost round with fear. My own hands clenched into fists, but I could do nothing.

“I propose a trade, then,” Kin’iro said smoothly.

“Do you now? How very interesting.” Clearly Soujuro knew he had the upper hand, and enjoyed having Kin’iro before him, revelled in the power he wielded. “Just what would you trade for him?”

“Myself. This night, and tomorrow. You release the boy and let him go back to his quarters with Inochi, and leave them both unharmed.”

“Hmm.” Soujuro contemplated Kin’iro’s offer as he stroked Genichi’s long tail. “But Hamanari will be gone for two weeks, not merely two days.”

Kin’iro’s tail flicked. “Even a full kitsune as myself needs time to heal from what you will do,” he said, as calmly as if he were talking about the weather or some other inconsequential subject, not a period of pain and torture. “One week with you. One to heal.”

“One week of my pleasures, then five days of simply fucking you while you heal,” Soujuro countered, his eyes glittering.

Every muscle in Kin’iro’s back stood out in relief; he was like a drawn bowstring. “You don’t touch the boy again, and Inochi suffers no consequences from attacking the guards, other than what the collar has already dealt him.”

Soujuro pretended to contemplate the offer, though we all knew he would accept it. One moment stretched into another, and yet another, and I thought my skin would crawl from my body from the tension I could feel all around us. Kin’iro said nothing; he was as silent and still as a statue; I wondered what expression, if any, was on his face, in his golden eyes.

“I will have the older boy before he leaves this place.” Soujuro’s eyes flicked to me, very aware of my presence. I felt the blood drain from my face as he looked at me with eyes as sharp as a blade.

“I don’t care what you do with him. Geld him, if you wish,” Kin’iro replied coldly. “He is not my concern.”

Soujuro’s mouth tipped upward into a smile. “What a lovely idea,” he said.

Even though I knew he would do no such thing, to damage me beyond repair, his words still made me gasp, made my heart pound hard within my chest.

“That is my offer. Take it or leave it and stop fucking around.” Kin’iro’s voice was steady.

Soujuro smiled his terrible smile. “Done.”

He picked up a dagger. The blade was already stained red with blood. With Genichi’s blood, I realized, and nausea almost overwhelmed me. He leaned forward and cut the cords that bound Genichi’s wrists at the small of his back, then his hand fell with a sharp crack on one of the boy’s small white buttocks. “Get up.”

Genichi scrambled to his feet, and launched himself at Kin’iro, wrapping his thin arms around Kin’iro’s waist, burying his face into Kin’iro’s stomach, sobbing, and it was a sound to make my heart wrench in my chest. Kin’iro’s hand smoothed tenderly over his little triangular ears, over his fine, flyaway white hair. “Go to Inochi,” he said softly. “He’ll take care of you.”

Genichi clung for a moment, then pulled away, scrubbing at his eyes and nose. I wrenched free of the guard and knelt. “Come, Genichi,” I said gently. “Come to me.”

He ran to me and wrapped himself around me, arms around my neck, legs around my waist, pressing his hot, wet face into my throat. His little hitching sobs tore at my heart, and again, I felt that terrible fiery hatred for Soujuro that he could hurt someone so innocent.

With a little grunt I stood, holding him close, stroking his back. My hand beneath his thigh came out wet and red, and I swallowed hard. I would examine him closely once we were back in our quarters. I didn’t think Soujuro had time to rape him, but the blood worried me. I wasn’t sure there would be blood but I assumed, given Genichi’s small size, that there would be if Soujuro had completed the act.

Soujuro stood, slim and handsome in the simple black robe; it hardly seemed possible or right, that such an evil soul should be housed in such a fair face and body. He moved his long dark braid aside and prowled forward, color high on his cheeks; it made me think for a moment of a hunting cat stalking prey. Kin’iro didn’t flinch, not even when Soujuro lifted the dagger and laid the reddened point against the base of his throat.

“I must say,” Soujuro said conversationally, “that this generosity is quite uncharacteristic of you.” He smiled, and it made my spine prickle with dread. "I do believe you said that the hells would be as warm as a summer day before ever I had you? Yare, yare. Enma-sama must be shedding his fur cloaks even as I speak."

“You have this one opportunity,” Kin’iro said stonily. “You’ll never get another chance at me for as long as I live.”

“Then I’ll just have to make it something to remember, ne?” Soujuro’s voice was as silky as his robe. He raised his hand to beckon the guard, who started forward with a very nasty grin.

Kin’iro turned his head slightly, and his blond hair rippled down his back. Lamplight limned the curve of his cheek with gold, glinted in his one visible eye beneath the heavy fringe of hair.

“Inochi---go.”

I fled.

Chapter Thirteen

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