What We've Started [SEQUEL to A Pure Sacrafice From A Dark Heart]

Demons

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"A Kappa?" Star repeated in disbelief. A nasty headache threatened to do her in as she relaxed into the soft cushions of the Headmistress's office couch. Sesshomaru sat as broodingly as always in the seat next to Setsuko's desk, having replaced his soaking clothes with a more modern look of black slacks and a black, button-down dress shirt.

"Yes," the old demon shifted in her discomfort, "a yokai of old origin that mainly inhabits rivers and is weak for cucumbers. There are other distinctions to this kind of demon, but I won't get into the whole definition." Setsuko sighed wearily. "I can't believe I missed it when Aoi enrolled. He was very clever and skilled in masking his scent, aura, and appearance."

"And he was deathly afraid to reveal himself this entire time, wishing to simply finish his schooling and find a place within this world. What year is he?" Star asked blankly as she stared at the ceiling, clear anguish dominating her features.

"He's -" the Headmistress paused before exhaustingly rubbing the ridges of her sunken eyes "- a third year." She almost whispered, as if the fact was surreptitious.

And shameful it was. Shameful in its reason for being a secret.

"Aoi is not a demon - not a demon in his nature. That boy has a better sense about him than most grown, human adults harbor, but he's suffered all this time with a truth that he cannot displace." Star sat up from her comfortable position on the couch, resting her elbows on her knees as she held her head in her hands. "This is not something I will leave untouched." Rising from her place, she bolted for the door.

"Wait! Where are you going? Are we not to address your discoveries? Your memories? Surely, you've remembered something! After that display?!" Setsuko had shot from her seat and slammed her wizened hands to the desk's top. Through the entirety of the conversation, Sesshomaru had yet to show interest or express his thoughts, yet he now eyed the demon at the door carefully, his eyes as slick as ice.

She dared not face either one of them, but her silence said every necessary word.

She had to play her cards carefully at this point. He was taking her back by the end of this winter, and Halloween had just ended, which meant November was no longer around the corner. It was here. Winter would only last about four more months. Maybe even less. . . in Los Angeles, anyway. She couldn't have him know the extent to which her memory had returned. Whatever had awoken inside her in response to her peril had also significantly healed whatever had blocked her mind. While unconscious, she'd had wild memories that would have struck her as dreams had she not known better. And she feared he would not wait on her agenda if he knew she had fulfilled most of his.

"I am least important at the moment." And after that reply, her form was quickly moving from the vicinity, habitually flocking to the roof. However, this time it was evident her decision to ascend to her usual roost was not entirely for herself. She sensed another presence, and so did the other two demons left in her wake.