InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Perfect Killing: Birth of a Lord ❯ Perfect Killing: Birth of a Lord ( Chapter 1 )

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Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or the character thereof, but I do claim the creative liberties to this story.
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Torchlight danced along the dark, cold walls of the elegantly drab passageway. Light footsteps, heavy with anticipation, echoed to a fading whisper as the tall, silver-haired demon paced the marble floors, his twin tails fluttering out behind him. Tension and stress hung thick in the air, nearly suffocating those who work amongst the shadows of the great fortress. A pained scream ripped throughout the castle and the western lands easily drowning out the soft rhythmic footfalls of anxiously waiting patrons.

A somber nurse pushed aside the heavy wooden doors, her silence made it clear that death was born into the household.

“Is the baby alright?”

“Your son is fine, but the mistress,” she faulted, “we tried all we could, but we just can’t stop the bleeding. I’m…”

The youkai pushed passed her, not bothering to listen to her pathetic apologies or condolences. He strode purposely into the birthing chamber, hesitating when he saw his beloved on the mat. More nurses worked tirelessly to clean up the blood that continued to pool around his wife’s thighs. As he approached her, the nurses slowly stopped and parted to leave them be in her final hours.

As he laid next to her, she tried to speak. “My love…”

“Hush, save your strength.” He wept as he clung to her, placing a shaky hand on her stomach.

“Oh my love, don’t cry for me.”

“I can’t seem to help it.” He gave a weak smile as more tears rolled down his cheek. A small cry interrupted them as another nurse approached them holding a small bundle. “Take him away,” the demon lord ordered.

“No, please. I want to see him. I need to see him.”

“But love… Alright, bring him.”

The nurse brought the small bundle to her mistress and lord, placing him on her chest. She watched as he curled his small fist around one of her fingers. “What should we call him?”

“Sesshoumaru.”

She shook her head weakly, “no my love. We’ll call him Saiaimaru.”

“He doesn’t deserve it.”

“Please,” she said reaching up to cup her love’s face. “Saiaimaru,” she repeated once again before fading. He let out small choked sobs, burying his face in her neck.

He could not remember much after that. The hours seemed to blur together and every time anything focused, he’d start to weep again. The nurses seemed to blend into mourners carried through on a toneless dirge. Was there a funeral? He must have missed it.

The lush green of spring turned into the grey stone of his castle walls. He found himself once again walking down a dark corridor, only stopping once he had reached an ominous looking door. His child made a breathy noise, still fast asleep. The demon lord pushed open the door to the nursery and walked tiredly into the room.

Placing the child in his crib, he walked back to the door blowing out several of the lit candles along the way. As he started to pull the door shut behind him, he stopped and looked back into the room towards his sleeping son. Bitterness and loathing spread through him, he couldn’t help it. “Sleep well my son, my little Sesshoumaru.”