Smoke and Tears

Zhizhu was still uneasy around her uji; she found it difficult to talk to them about anything other than their duties to the Court or the business of the Peacock Fan. She allowed herself a moment of bitter amusement. In life, she had been sociable and charismatic. At least, she had been before her father and husband had destroyed that part of her.

She knew the others feared her more than a little. There was a uncomfortable joy in that. It gave her a measure of power over them, something she didn't consciously realize she needed. However, there was a part of her that still thought like a 17-year-old girl, wide-eyed and wondering and craving some kind of positive reinforcement. It was a small voice in the back of her mind, often lost in the bloody-minded rantings of her P'o.

Whenever she spoke to Unveiled Mirror Shard, that quiet voice became a little stronger. She allowed herself to remember happy things, smiled more and even laughed. It confused her, for she didn't think she actually liked the Bone Flower. Shard wallowed in her self-loathing, and clung stubbornly to her view as women as weak, helpless creatures with no will of their own. It often infuriated the Devil Tiger, while simultaneously spurring her to try various ways to prod her uji-mate into self-confidence.

Although, after talking Shard's P'o down from murdering the rest of their uji, Zhizhu did not prod so much. The girl's control over her demon was obviously tenuous--Zhizhu did not think her words had been so powerful. But then, she had spent the last two years under the tutelage of the Devil Tigers. She doubted that her view of what was too harsh would be shared by any of her uji-mates.

It annoyed her that the member of her uji she seemed to understand best was Flaring Grin. She despised him, for being a man, for being so like her father and her husband. And yet he showed flashes of incredible empathy. His plans were often sound. Yes, she felt compelled to point out the flaws in any plan laid before her, but she felt that he understood that it had ceased to be a personal vindictiveness that spurred her to disagreement.

She respected their nushi; Fujiko-san was a strong woman and had much of the elegance that Zhizhu felt she herself lacked. Keeper of Forgotten Temples was a carefully neutral creature, and Zhizhi had no strong feelings about him in any regard. He was not a threat to her, even though he had nearly won that stupid duel. It had been difficult to come out of that without losing face.

She doubted she'd ever really like any of her uji-mates. Friendship was something she'd left behind her. She understood that she was bound to them, that those bonds created the sense of loyalty and trust she felt. She would fight beside them willingly, even eagerly, and perform what tasks the Court laid before them. But she did not want to be close to them. She was a devil, a wicked creature mandated by Heaven to fight evil with evil. There was little room for friendship in that. Alliances, yes. Friendships, no.

She tried to herd her thoughts toward the project that had consumed so much of her time and energy lately. She felt she'd be ready to strike at the pornographers soon. She knew that her careful planning in some ways flaunted the tenet of acting without hesitation; however, she did not feel she was hesitating. She merely made sure each strand of her web was in place before striking. Reckless evil was the province of akuma. She must be magnificent in her wickedness, and magnificence was rarely the product of heedless action.

But her thoughts were muddled, and kept returning to the bits of information she'd been able to glean from the internet. Sayuki lived in Yokohama, she was married, and Zhizhu even had her phone number. Zhizhu wanted to call her--and then she wanted to burn the information from her mind. She didn't realize she was holding her cell phone she until felt her fingers restively caressing the little rubberized buttons. Scowling, she folded the phone and stowed it safely in her pocket.

She thought back to the recent conversation she'd had with Shard, and then to the Bone Flower's confession about Kiku. A part of her was intensely jealous. Shard had something that Zhizhu had never known, would probably never know. Softness and tenderness had no place in her existence. She knew she'd have to deal with Sayuki and the confusion that her old friend caused--she could not afford to be so distracted. But then, this was her koa, and now was the time to deal with such distractions.