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Purity 4: Justification

Chapter 8: Pursuit

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The late afternoon sunshine was warm, comforting. Shining through the canopy of leaves deep in the heart of InuYasha's Forest, the twin sons of the legendary hanyou ran side by side in companionable silence. Kichiro's purple hakama rustled in the breeze while Ryomaru hadn't bothered to change out of his jeans for the excursion.

"So you wanna tell me what's bugging you?"

Kichiro sped up and vaulted into the trees. Ryomaru was close on his heels as the two rose up to sail over the top of the forest. "Who said anything was bugging me?" Kichiro asked baldly.

Ryomaru wrinkled his nose. "Don't give me that. I know you better than just about anyone, remember? So what is it?"

"Not a damn thing."

"It's that wench, ain't it? The one in your office . . ."

Kichiro shot his brother a sidelong glance, but Ryomaru was scanning the horizon with a thoughtful frown. "Of course not. Why would she be bugging me?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

"You're out of your mind."

"Might be out of my mind, but there has to be something going on. I mean, she stormed into your office to give me hell for being such a . . . Oh, how did she put that? Ah, yes, 'an insufferable ass'."

"Insufferable ass, huh? Keh! The little girl doesn't know when to leave well enough alone."

"Little girl?" Ryomaru echoed, and Kichiro could feel his sibling's scrutiny intensify. "She ain't that young."

Kichiro grinned. "Maybe not, but she really hates to have her age—or lack thereof—pointed out."

Ryomaru groaned. "Why do I have the feeling you're doing all this on purpose?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Ryomaru snorted.

"I'd just as soon throttle her than talk to her. She's a spoiled brat . . . Do you know, she really thought she could manipulate me?"

"Oh, so that's it. I knew there was a reason you were going out of your way to be nasty to her."

"Was I?"

"Balls, Kich! I mean, I don't like her either, but I have reason."

"Oh?"

Ryomaru snorted again. "Keh! She thought I was you, you baka! Ain't that reason enough?"

"Be that as it may, it's hardly a decent reason not to like someone."

"She called me a liar," he fumed. "That's reason enough."

Kichiro had to concede that logic. "I didn't tell her I have a twin," he remarked as the brothers lit on the ground and pushed off again.

Ryomaru shrugged. "That don't matter! I don't smell like you, or haven't you noticed? I smell like Nez . . . much nicer, if you ask me."

"Belle said she didn't notice. Probably too preoccupied with telling me she thinks I'm an insufferable ass to bother sniffing you."

Ryomaru rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Whatever. Fine thing, though."

"What is?"

"You're protecting her."

"I am not."

"The hell you're not. I say something about her, and you spring to her defense. Deny it if you want, Kich, but it's true."

Kichiro snorted and didn't answer.

'That's right, Kich. Ryo's got a point, and balls, you really hate that, don't you?'

'Who asked you?'

'That's the beautiful thing. You don't have to ask me. I'll give you my opinion anyway.'

'I'd rather that you didn't.'

'Of course you would, but if I left you to your own devices, we'd never find a mate, would we? You're doing a piss poor job on your own, so I figured I'd just give you a nudge.'

'A mate would be fine,' Kichiro agreed, 'just not her.'

'Think about it, baka! She's the perfect woman.'

Kichiro nearly choked. 'What?'

'Yeah, yeah . . . let's see . . . She's quick, she's got spirit, she's amusing, even if you don't want to admit as much . . . and balls, she's got an awesome rack.'

'I'm not taking a mate because of her rack, damn it, and she is absolutely not acceptable!"

'She's the daughter of the North American tai-youkai! How much more acceptable could she be?'

'That's hardly the point! She's got no viable manners, no common sense . . . nothing at all to recommend her other than her kami-forsaken rack!'

'Oh yeah? Then you tell me, Kich: why does she care so much about her friend? Why is she so desperate to make sure her friend gets this reconstructive surgery if she ain't got any saving graces?'

Kichiro sighed and scowled, ignoring the implications behind the question.

'Maybe there's more to her. Maybe she is what she is because that's how she was taught to be.'

'And maybe I don't have the time or inclination to reform her.'

'Maybe it ain't about reforming her. Maybe it's about reforming yourself.'

"Kich? You listening?'

Snapping out of his reverie, Kichiro shot his brother a guilty glance. "Sorry. What was that?"

Ryomaru shook his head. "I asked if you were ready to head back."

Kichiro frowned. "Since when are you ready to end these runs before me?" he demanded, suspicion creeping over him as he eyed his brother. "What's going on?"

To his surprise, Ryomaru actually blushed. "Nothing. I just have something to do, is all."

"Oh? And what's that?"

Ryomaru snorted. "Drop it, will you? It ain't important. I don't demand to know what you're doing all the fucking time."

Kichiro grinned. "That's because I don't hide anything I do, but if you don't want to tell me, that's fine. I'll ask Nez."

"Well, it ain't like I'm ashamed or anything," Ryomaru retorted. "I'm just learning how to cook."

"Come again? I thought you just said that you were learning how to cook."

"I did, baka."

Kichiro couldn't help but laugh. "Why?"

"There ain't nothing wrong with cooking," Ryomaru argued. "Oh, shut up, will you?"

Kichiro's laughter escalated. "Never mind. Do you wear a frilly little apron?"

"Go to hell, will you?"

Ryomaru veered off to the right and sprinted away, leaving Kichiro alone with his amusement. Watching Ryomaru disappear into the forest, Kichiro stopped and slowly shook his head. Ryomaru learning how to cook? That was something he wasn't sure he really wanted to see . . .

'You know, he had a point.'

'You again? I thought you were done badgering me for awhile.'

'Not hardly. Anyway, Ryo's right. You were protecting Belle.'

'I was not. I was—'

'Be stubborn if it makes you happy. The fact remains that there really is something there, whether you want to believe it or not.'

 

 

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"Izayoi . . . that name sounds familiar . . ."

Gin forced a tepid smile and sipped the tea with an inward sigh.

'This guy . . . is boring . . .'

'He's not that bad,' Gin thought as she stared into her cup and tried to concentrate on what Montaro was saying.

"Your father runs the Tokyo Academy, doesn't he?"

"What? Oh . . . Yeah, he does."

"I heard that was a tough school."

Gin nodded.

'Really, really boring.'

She sighed. 'All right, he is boring.'

'Get rid of him.'

'How?'

'Tell him you have a headache.'

Setting her cup aside, Gin cleared her throat nervously and flipped her hair over her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I think I need to go. I've had a headache all day . . ."

Montaro's dark eyebrows drew together in a concerned frown, and he stood up, holding out his hand to help Gin to her feet. She pretended not to see it as she rose, too. "I'll drive you home."

"You don't have to," she assured him as she stepped back when he reached for her elbow. "I did promise my mother that I'd run a few things over to her, after all, and—"

"That's fine. I don't have anything planned. I'll drive you."

Gin smiled weakly. "I hate to put you to the trouble."

"No trouble at all! In fact, I insist."

Seeing no way out of the predicament, Gin couldn't help but wish that Cain had gotten her unspoken plea for help before she'd agreed to go on this 'date'. "If you're sure," she replied.

"Absolutely sure."

"O-Okay."

She felt trapped, caught. She couldn't bring herself to tell him that she just didn't want to go anywhere with him. That was the reason she'd agreed to dates before, wasn't it? 'Too bad Papa or the twins aren't around now . . . They'd make sure it didn't happen, even if I did get mad at them.'

She frowned as she followed him out of the small café. 'Sort of catty of you, isn't it? You've always relied on them to keep you from having to go out on boring dates, and yet you always got angry, too.'

It was true enough, she supposed. She'd always known, somewhere in her mind, that it didn't really matter whether she accepted invitations to go on dates or not. Her father and her brothers made sure that she never went, and even though it made her angry at the time, she knew deep down that the reason wasn't because she wanted to go. It bothered her because they didn't think she had enough sense to make her own choices.

'And maybe you counted on it, didn't you? That they would stop you . . . that you could hide behind your outrage and not have to think about just why you didn't really like a single one of those young men, just as you don't really like Montaro-san, either.'

Ducking her head as she scooted into the passenger seat of Montaro's older model Honda Civic, Gin grimaced and sighed. 'That sounds really bad, doesn't it? Accurate, maybe, but really, really bad.'

'Not bad, doll. You're different, you know? You're not like all your human friends . . . They all flitted from one guy to the next without taking a breath and without missing a step. You're not like that, and you'll never be like that. You'll know it when you find him; the one you're meant to be with . . . You're hanyou, and that's what you'll do because that's the way of it.'

'Him . . .' she mused, rolling the word over and over in her head. 'I'll know it? How? How will I know when I find 'him' when I don't know what to look for?'

The voice of her youkai laughed softly. 'You really don't know, do you? It's not a feeling that you'll have. It's more of an inner knowledge. The one you're looking for . . . He'll make you smile when you think about him. He'll give you strength to fight for him, if you have to. His soul will speak to yours, and you will know.'

The four block drive to the small grocery store where her mother normally shopped for food was quiet. If Montaro spoke, Gin didn't hear him. Lost in her thoughts, she could have been a million miles away.

'What if I already met him and just didn't notice? What if he really was one of the guys Papa or the twins chased off? What if I didn't really get to know him because of that? I mean, if that happened, then would I just run into him again? Is there such a thing as fate? What if I already blew my one chance at finding my mate?'

'I think you'd have known, Gin. You haven't missed him. Those boys you brought home wouldn't have been able to deal with the idea that you weren't completely human. Calm down before you get yourself even more upset.'

She'd never really considered that, had she? A human man, in all likelihood, not be able to cope with her hanyou state. There was truth in that, wasn't there? As a hanyou, she was stronger than humans, even if she wasn't very big, and really, she realized with a grimace as she peered unhappily into the side mirror and watched the street fading in the distance, maybe she did want to feel secure, protected . . . the way her father made her mother feel . . .

'Still,' she reasoned, needing to put all lingering doubts aside, 'it is possible that I did already meet him, right? Look at Ryo-nii and Nezumi-chan . . . he chose her when he was still a pup . . .'

'That's not normal, I'll have you know. Ryomaru and Nezumi were the exception to the rule. It really isn't normal to find one's mate so early. Don't worry yourself over it, doll. You're far more perceptive than your brother.'

She supposed that might be true. 'I guess . . . Kich hasn't found a mate yet, either. Does he have to find a mate first?'

'If you wait for Kichiro to find a mate, you might be waiting awhile.'

Gin's gaze narrowed as she leaned forward, staring in the mirror at the dwindling sidewalks behind. A flash of bronze hair had stood out among the sea of black. It was gone before she could make sense of it, and Gin slowly shook her head. 'Cain . . .'

She got out of the car before Montaro could come around to help her when he finally stopped before the small grocery. 'It couldn't have been him, could it? Why would Cain follow me? He didn't care that I was going with Montaro-san. He'd turned away from me, didn't he?' She grimaced, tugging her bag onto her shoulder as she willed away the unwanted sadness, the hint of melancholy.   Why did she feel like he'd rejected her?

Yet the thought of him could make her smile. She closed her eyes and breathed in deep. For a moment she could feel the brush of his youki over her. He was there with her, wasn't he? Something about him lent her a sense of calm. He reminded her of a rock, of something solid that she only had to touch to steady herself, and he felt so very close . . .

'I'd rather be at the university helping Cain . . . going on an afternoon jog through Papa's forest . . . sitting beside one of the ponds while the sun sets over the trees . . . baking Cain a cake because I know it makes him smile . . . He's one of the few people I've ever seen whose eyes really do light up when he's happy, when he smiles . . .'

"Izayoi-san? Are you okay?"

Blinking as she shook off the lingering remains of her preoccupation, Gin glanced into Montaro's concerned face and forced a smile. "I'm fine," she lied, her expression faltering as she quickly looked away.

Montaro accepted her answer and slipped his hand under her elbow. Pulling away from him but trying not to be obvious about it, Gin quirked her ears and frowned. She could have sworn she'd heard a low growl but when she looked around, she didn't see anything.

 

 

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He had known it was a bad idea to follow Gin around Tokyo on her 'date'. It was stupid. It was pointless. It was reckless. It was completely unreasonable, not to mention highly indecorous. Still he couldn't help himself as he watched from the shadows of the thick bushes as Gin got into Montaro's car. Shrinking back to hide from her view as she looked out the window with a forlorn expression, Cain waited until they pulled into traffic before emerging from the shelter and leaping onto the nearest building to keep an eye on the girl.

'Have I told you just how stupid this is, Cain?' his youkai demanded as he crouched atop the small café where the couple had disappeared awhile ago. Leaning forward as he tried to peer into the café without either being seen by passers-by or falling on his head, he balanced precariously but was forced to give up when he realized that it wasn't working at all.

'Yeah . . . shut up if you're not going to help me figure out how to get her away from that little bastard.'

'Like I'll do that! Do you know how undignified this is? Do you have any idea at all? We're hiding on the roof like common thugs, Cain! We look like we're ready to waylay some hapless pedestrian, damned if we don't! If you want to be stupid, you might as well just run in there and snatch her up. That would end their 'date', wouldn't it?'

Cain pondered that for a few moments but discarded the idea since that would mean explaining to Gin just why he'd followed her, in the first place. 'That won't work . . . Suggest something feasible, damn it.'

'Feasible? Okay, how's this: let's get out of here, all right? She's fine, you know. She's hanyou. If that pup tries anything, she'd put him in his place. She doesn't need a guard dog. She doesn't need you.'

Wincing at the barb, Cain shook his head. 'Maybe she can take care of herself, but she shouldn't have to, should she? She's young, she's beautiful . . . She's too damn naïve for her own good sometimes.' How many times had she said things to him; things that weren't intended to be anything but innocent and despite that knowledge was the understanding that her words could be taken in so many ways? With her penchant for saying things of that nature, was it really any wonder that Cain had followed her?

'Oh, hell, now you're blaming her because you couldn't just let her go? Don't be stupid, Cain. You didn't follow her to protect her so much as you did to make sure that she doesn't develop a liking for the pup.'

And there was certainly that, too.

'What's gotten into you? Be honest. You've never acted like this, not even when you were chasing Isabelle.'

That observation was like a dousing of cold water, and Cain jerked back as a fresh wave of guilt assailed him. It was true, wasn't it? Even Isabelle hadn't fascinated him as much as this girl did. 'That's not true . . . that . . . That can't be true . . .'

Vague memories of Isabelle were painful, softened only by the passage of time in a corner of his mind that he tried to forget. It hurt to think about her, and yet . . . and yet the memories weren't as poignant as they once had been. He'd like to think that it was because he was nearing the end; he'd join her soon enough.

'You promised her, but you know . . . It's been such a long time, Cain.'

'But a promise is a promise, and I owe her this.'

'And Bellaniece? Do you owe her anything?'

Cain closed his eyes, struggled for a semblance of calm. 'I owe Bellaniece the pride that comes in knowing that her father did the honorable thing . . . that I kept my promise in the end.'

'You're talking about the kind of abstract consolation that really isn't a consolation at all.'

'You sound like you're trying to talk me out of it.'

'Of course not! You made a promise, right? You should keep it, absolutely. I never thought you shouldn't. In fact, it's one of the best ideas you've ever had, never mind that if you die, I die, too. By the way, Cain . . .'

'What?' he snarled, holding onto the roofing so tightly that the metal shingle buckled under his hand.

'Gin.'

'What about her?'

'She's gone.'

'. . . What?'

Streaking over rooftops as he kept an eye on the line of traffic and especially on the black Honda Civic, Cain followed them. Dropping to the ground in an alley between buildings since the next building was enclosed in a glass dome greenhouse, he purposefully slowed his step, tried to blend in with the people on the street.

'Of all the . . . Cain, you realize that we look like a complete idiot, right?'

'Feel free to shut up,' Cain tossed back casually as he glowered in the direction of Montaro's car. The pup was stopping outside a small grocery store. Gin emerged from the vehicle without waiting for Montaro's assistance. She turned to look around. He could feel her gaze sweep over him. For a dizzying second, he thought she'd seen him, but Cain ducked under a newsstand awning, and when he dared another glance around the canvas cover, she was looking the other way.

'No, no, no!'

'Just a little closer,' Cain thought absently as he strode toward the unaware couple.

'Pfft! You're going to get caught. I'm going to get caught. She's going to give us all sorts of hell, Cain, and you know, at least one of us will deserve that, too.'

Cain was about to reply when Montaro reached out, grasped Gin's elbow. Something about seeing the bastard with any part of his body touching her set off a rage deep inside, a primitive surge of absolute possessiveness. Two words replayed in his head—two words tumbled around, melded one into another: my Gin. Stopping in the shadows of a small café beside the grocery store, Cain resisted the nearly overwhelming need to separate the couple. Gin's acute unhappiness was impossible to deny, and in that moment, there was nothing he wouldn't have done to make that go away.

Absently he could feel the unfurling of his youki. As if he needed to comfort her, he could feel it stretching, wrapping around her. She calmed almost immediately, a small smile surfacing on her face as the panic loosed its grip on him. Ignorant to the strange, frightened looks he was garnering from the people around him, he could feel the edges of his self-control unraveling as Montaro opened the door and held it for Gin.

The chime of the bells hung over the door silenced as it fell closed behind the girl. The jarring effect startled Cain, and he blinked slowly, drawing back as he shook his head, as realization seeped into his consciousness. He'd been growling, hadn't he? He'd been growling, and he really had thought that Gin was . . . his?

'What are you thinking, Cain?' his youkai demanded. The caustic voice seemed worried, and Cain . . . He hated to admit as much but he was, too. 'She's not yours . . . You know that, right?'

'Of course I do,' he scoffed as he crept closer to the grocery store window. 'She's not . . . mine.'

 

 

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Bellaniece slammed into the apartment with a pouting glower and a heavy sigh.

'I hate him. I really hate him. I can't stand him . . . He's . . . He's . . . Oh, he's just insufferable!'

Why did Kichiro Izayoi have to be so cruel? The reason behind his nastiness escaped her. She really couldn't grasp why he felt the need to go so far out of his way just to belittle her.

'I don't care,' she assured herself as she dropped her keys on the counter. 'He can be just as nasty as he wants. I need that job. Kelly needs that surgery.' She could endure Kichiro's insufferable presence, couldn't she? "Absolutely," she muttered as she strode over to the refrigerator.

'The two of you got off on the wrong foot.'

'That's not completely my fault, is it?'

'Well, no, but you didn't help, did you? You have to admit, you didn't make the best first impression on him.'

Bellaniece snatched a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and made a face as she tried to ignore the gentle chiding of the youkai voice. 'He startled me . . . besides, he was really obnoxious. What was I supposed to do? Let him get away with it? I think not . . .'

'Maybe you should try a new approach: instead of going in there tomorrow ready for a fight, go in there and be yourself. Let down your defenses, and let him see that you're really not as bitchy as you seem to be sometimes.'

'Bitchy? Whose side are you on? You're my youkai, you know.'

'I'm your youkai; sure . . . I'm also objective enough to see that you really don't give him a chance to be nice to you. You're always ready for him to attack so you jump at the slightest provocation. You know you do it, Bellaniece.'

'That really wouldn't matter, now would it? He delights in being intolerably cruel. If I let my guard down around him, he'll just laugh in my face and call me a little girl . . . He's infuriating. I . . . I hate him.'

Her youkai laughed at the shrinking way she added the last part. Bellaniece winced. It hadn't sounded convincing at all, even to herself. She wandered over to the window, stared without seeing as tiny people scurried past on the street so far below. A vicious twinge twisted her stomach; the wish for things that had long faded away beckoned her memory, called to her with the bittersweet song of things she'd left forgotten, like stories of unicorns and rainbows, of princesses and fairies . . .

It hadn't seemed that long ago. The simplicity of living was a beautiful thing. It had been so much easier then, hadn't it? She ran through the countryside surrounding the Zelig estate without a care in the world, without anyone to impress . . . alone and free. She hadn't realized back then, how complex things really were. In those days, she thought that nothing would ever change. She hadn't understood that some things were set in stone. She hadn't known of promises made before she was born, of things that she was only starting to understand now.

It really was nothing more than a stupid game. All her life she'd been the little girl, hadn't she? Relegated to that role by her doting father, she figured there were some things that never would change. Cain still saw her as the same little girl, even now, didn't he? She saw it in his gaze whenever he smiled that indulgent smile . . . the one that was touched by sorrow and tempered by emotions that she didn't grasp, didn't understand. She thought he'd be there forever, hadn't she? Her daddy . . . her security . . .

And curiously, it was this disguise that she loved. So long as Cain continued to see her that way, he would remain. Her father was a man of honor, integrity. He lived by his word, believed in truth and justice. These things had made him the unrivaled leader. These things, however, were the very things that scared Bellaniece most.

'He'll keep his word, won't he? He'd never break his promise . . .'

She knew that he had things that he kept from her; clandestine liaisons that he hid under the shadows of night. Whispers of things that Cain tried to keep secret, and she understood that he was responsible for the darker aspects of the youkai. To her knowledge he hadn't left home, but she wasn't ignorant. She'd even been introduced to one of the youkai; a brooding skunk-youkai named Cartham. He was a hunter, and he worked for Cain. She hadn't had to ask her father to verify that. There was a certain air of danger around the youkai, and always—always—the lingering stench of blood . . .

Cain liked to shelter Bellaniece from the less pleasant aspects of life. Maybe he thought that if he could do that, she wouldn't find out about them. She loved him for that, and while she could comprehend why he would do such things, she couldn't help but feel as though he sheltered her a little too much.

A silver haired young woman drew Bellaniece's attention, and she narrowed her gaze. On the street below the woman waited, and despite the distance, Bellaniece could discern the trace outline of dog-hanyou ears. Hidden by a very strong concealment spell, the woman's ears wouldn't have been noticeable had Bellaniece not been the daughter of the North American tai-youkai.

'She looks . . . like Kichiro . . .'

Standing beside a tall human man, the woman looked around in a noticeably distracted way. The man touched her elbow, and the two proceeded to cross the street. Bellaniece watched until the couple disappeared from view in the shadow of the apartment building. Moments later, a hazy ball of blue light zipped past Bellaniece's face through the open window. Bellaniece jumped back with a strangled gasp as Cain solidified beside her, a disgusted scowl on his face and without any kind of explanation whatsoever.

He spared Bellaniece a curt glance before stalking over to the door. Bellaniece frowned and crossed her arms over her chest as she watched Cain lean down to put his eye to the tiny peephole.

"Daddy? What are you doing?" she asked, careful to keep her tone neutral.

She wasn't surprised when he didn't answer. She was surprised, however, when he suddenly broke into a low, angry growl. "Daddy?" He didn't seem to have heard her. Bellaniece cautiously walked over to him. "Daddy?" she repeated, touching his arm. Cain jerked away from the door, blinking at his daughter as though she was a stranger. "Is everything okay?"

"What? Oh . . . yeah . . . fine," he replied as he peeked into the hallway again. "Damn it," he mumbled. "That little whelp . . . I'll rip off his—"

"Who are you talking about?" Bellaniece asked, raising her voice to be heard over Cain's dire threats.

Cain snorted and grabbed the door handle. Bellaniece's hand shot out to stay his. "Daddy! What's going on? Who are you going to maim and why?"

"No one," Cain snarled but let his hand fall away from the door. Still agitated, he prowled the room, stopping now and again to glower at the door.

Bellaniece nodded slowly. "All right, if you're sure you're okay," she agreed. It was obvious that he wasn't going to tell her who or what was irritating him so badly. Giving up with a sigh, she headed back toward her bedroom to change into something more casual.   She stopped in the doorway and peeked around the corner. Cain was at the peephole again, muttering under his breath about idiot pups and cake fairies.

Shaking her head as she gave up trying to figure out her father's odd behavior, Bellaniece slipped into her room and quietly closed the door.

 

 

 

 

 

Notes:

Final Thought from Bellaniece:
Who was that girl?