Off Balance

Zhizhu went into the kitchen and sank onto the floor in a lotus position. Her blades were at hand, and she closed her eyes, seeking a measure of peace. The wind outside moaned eerily. Her eyes flew open and she tensed, half-expecting an attack. The moment passed and she sat there feeling irritated.

It was a strange thing for Zhizhu, to feel unsafe in her haven. It was supposed to be a place of safety, a place where she did not have to be on constant alert to attacks. Yet she had learned a ritual from Yuki to alert her of intruders. She and the other Scouts had plans to procure jade to protect their homes.

Of course, they had good reason. Being attacked by wraiths while they were sleeping was a fairly good motivation to seek protection. It was fantastic luck that they not only survived the attack, but came out the victors.

For Zhizhu, the lost peace of her home was an annoyance beyond the obvious ramifications. Even as a Devil Tiger, she understood the balances of things. To be an elegant devil, she could not lash out without understanding. Crude chaos was a medium for akuma and beasts. She needed to find a center within herself before she could affect the world around her.

Finding such a center was difficult when every noise was a distraction of possibly fatal origin. Zhizhu refused to let herself become paranoid, but she also could not relax her alertness. It was another reason in a growing list of why she chafed at the court's edict to wage only a war of influence with the Sohei.

She had done well, she thought, at creating a center within herself. It was a place from which she could deal with her power-hungry demon, yet turn its energies to her own uses. She was turning her back on her humanity a piece at a time, yet still found that she could care about her uji-mates. She may never say so to them again, but she had told each that she did care. Except Thorn, but she still did not quite know what to make of him.

Zhizhu had spent more than a week at the court, learning to harness yet more of her demon's power. Now she need not fear starting a fight in a public place; the mortals would simply flee in terror, their minds unable to hold the memory of her form. It was a boon when they did not know if the Sohei would somehow bring the fight to them.

She hoped they did. The woman Peony might have the court's mandate to strike against the Sohei, but no one would fault the Scouts if they were driven to defend themselves. It was true that the Scouts were rapidly expanding their power base in the city, but Zhizhu still felt the storm of a fight hovering on the horizon. The waiting made her restless.

Sohei were in the city. An uji of them, hiding somewhere out in the streets. The lights of downtown sparkled below her, transforming that part of the city into a gaudy jewel. Normally, it was a view she enjoyed. Now, Zhizhu snarled silently as she sat on her balcony. She glared off into the distance, as if even now one of them were perched on top of some building. For all she knew, they were. There was at least one with a winged demon form.

From her glimpse of that one, she was willing to bet that he was of her own dharma. He was likely to be a ferocious opponent. Her fingers flexed, although they lacked the wicked claws of her demon form. Damned Sohei. Why couldn’t they just have stayed out of Anjiro?

It was only to be expected, though. Anjiro had long been a contested territory, and perhaps it was only luck that had led the Yamabushi to send agents before the Sohei. Whatever it was—luck, destiny, or superb planning—her uji had a distinct advantage despite being outnumbered. They had spent their time building resources and influence that the Sohei lacked.

There would be a fight, but Zhizhu was unsure how soon it would come to that. It was more likely that the two ujis would dance around each other for a short while, testing the other’s strengths and weaknesses.

Zhizhu refused to believe that the Thousand Ri Scouts would meet with failure. Failure in this instance would most likely mean death, and Zhizhu didn’t plan on dying until she had reached enlightment. A cold thought blew through her, chilling her more thoroughly than the autumn wind. Her enlightenment would lead her down a path of wickedness, a path of pain and destruction and defilement. It was a path that ran at direct odds with at least one member of her uji.

Sooner or later, Zhizhu would need to leave the uji. Certainly not until the Sohei were dealt with, and possibly not for some time after that. Yet she knew that the time would come, and the thought hurt nearly as deeply as when she said good-bye to Shin.

Shin. She sank into the cheap plastic patio chair, her thoughts taking another sudden detour. He should know that there were Sohei in the city. Her hand was halfway to her pocket to pull out her cell phone before she stopped herself. She laughed at her herself, a harsh, hollow sound. Strange how quickly a habit could be formed, yet how slowly it died.

Someday she might have to face Shin as well, but that was something she had known from the start. If she could help it, that would be a long time in the future--or never. She didn’t want to fight him, but she would. She’d kill him, if necessary. It wasn’t a thought she relished, yet she was certain as stone that she would not pull back a killing blow. She also knew that he would fight just as fiercely, and be equally as ruthless.

She was, after all, a devil.

Sex

It was early in the evening when Zhizhu realized that something was bothering her, and had been for the last few days. She’d done much introspection after her parting with Shin and the ling she subsequently experienced, but she hadn’t been able to put words to the little nagging feeling at the back of her mind.

It was a question, or rather, two questions that were linked together. Had her pain been only an illusion--had her feelings for Shin been only some sort of hormonal reaction, or perhaps merely an emotional response to just the sex? And could she still enjoy sex, or would she only see Shin’s face, only feel that ragged hole inside her heart?

Obviously, she’d have to fuck somebody to find out. She found herself reluctant to find some boy at a club. It was more important to her than that, and she felt that she should choose someone important as well. It would be better if there was some kind of pre-existing relationship, the better to gauge how the sex affected her.

Usagi was brought immediately to mind. He was not yet officially of her uji, but she still cared for him. She remembered when he had asked to pillow with her, something that even Flaring Grin had never directly asked her. Thought was mother to action, and she found herself dialing the court and asking for the Thrashing Dragon.

It was obvious to her after only an hour that she had both her answers. What she felt for Shin was not some physical response. She felt a sharp, sweet stab of pain. She knew that wound would never close, but it gave her a strength she’d never thought she possessed. It was nice to know that what she felt was genuine. As for the sex…well, she was more than happy to stay with Usagi until dawn.

She wasn’t sure why she asked him to stop when he woke her the next morning, his head between her legs. It was, perhaps, too intimate a thing to be woken by a sexual act. She cared for Usagi, yes, but not as a lover. It made her feel slightly uncomfortable to be so vulnerable to him, even after the previous evening. She hoped that she didn’t offend him, but what was done was done.

And now it was time to pursue her training. She left Usagi’s room with a small smile; and though she was not happy, she was at least feeling at peace. True happiness, like despair, was a luxury to be earned in the next life. But she was content, and ready to face the countless dusks ahead of her.

reflections

We are all little tragedies--small, sad stories clothed in flesh and dreaming of redemption.

These words echo in my mind, unexpected poetry from a mind that has strayed far from pretty words. I remember once taking pleasure in words, in their power and the passions they could inflame. I remember going to rallies, where other students would stand up and speak—I remember words like flames, and feeling an echoing fire within myself. That was before my marriage, before my death. My soul was hardened in hell, even as it was split. I had no beauty, no poetry, and no passion.

Until Shin.

My brief time with him awoke something that I thought had not survived my time in hell. I never meant to fall in love with him.

I denied my feelings for some time, perhaps because I knew that to acknowledge them was to bring an end to my time with Shin. Yet I would not change a moment of what has passed. It took the agony of a heart breaking to show me the next step to enlightenment. Perhaps I would have stagnated without that flash of insight. Perhaps I would have found another way to walk the Road Back.

But I doubt that. To wallow in self-pity would have brought me only blindness. I am no longer human--I do not have the luxury of falling into despair. I raise my voice in the Howl of the Devil-Tiger, and the trappings of humanity can only hold me back.

Yet I am not the creature I was. I cannot go back to that, to living like a statue begrudgingly taking part in the world around me. I must know this pain has not killed the passion so recently kindled within me. I have to know that this pain is not hollow.