Zhizhu felt a grumbling resentment at Flaring Grin's brief admonishment for her actions. She refused to apologize for her actions. To do anything other than act when the moment had presented itself so perfectly--even to simply wait for her uji-mates--would be to deny her own dharma. Perhaps the consequences would not have been so chaotic, but she was beginning to have a taste for chaos. Her life had been so structured, so controlled. The Devil Tigers had the right of it--act without hesitation.
She may have been laying her trap, patiently spinning out threads like her namesake, but one strong wind could blow it all away. Nothing could be predicted, but consequences could be dealt with. Webs could be respun. What mattered was the man in her dark warehouse basement, and the corpses rotting in their homes.
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Yet she was part of an uji, and those bonds tugged at her. Her resentment grumbled on, but she was disquieted by much that had happened. Keeper's death was a blow to the uji; his state as a yulan-jin would bring yet more disgrace and ill luck. Shard's excessive penance puzzled and irritated the Devil Tiger--she obviously sought the pain to salve her own guilt, but had she learned anything from it? The Bone Flower did not act as if the seppuku had changed anything. But perhaps it was a lesson that would come in time. Zhizhu refused to believe that anyone could remain untouched by such an experience.
Days passed, and there was no sign of Keeper's return. Zhizhu knew very little of the yulan-jin, and no idea what to expect, only that Keeper would have different body. A handy trick, but from what she had heard, a trick which had too high a cost. Not knowing what to do about Keeper, she turned her energies to Hirata Nakamora.
She had learned the art of pain from her teachers at the Court, but this was the first time she'd put those skills to use on her own. She did not plan--she acted. Little hurts and large ones, torture both physical and mental. It did not have to be elaborate--she would have time to experiment and refine her techniques. She wanted him to beg, and he did. She wanted him shamed, and he was. After 7 days, when she finally allowed Hirata to die, she knew that he had been broken.
A new clarity seemed to blossom within her, and she felt more than ever the Howl of the Devil Tiger that lifted her soul towards the fire of enlightenment.
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