InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Bloom to Perish ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: EternalTwylight 
It's surprising how much one room can bring comfort and immerse the Lord of the Western lands deep into the memories of the past.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Hentai | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 12.06.2006 | Updated On: 12.06.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.3K | Visits: 709 | Status: Work In Progress
It's surprising how much one room can bring comfort and immerse the Lord of the Western lands deep into the memories of the past.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Hentai | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 12.06.2006 | Updated On: 12.06.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.3K | Visits: 709 | Status: Work In Progress
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha nor make any profit from this fic.
A/N: This fic is from the point of view Sesshoumaru if anyone has a problem figuring that out. It's for all those people that keep telling "we want Sessy..we WANT Sessy" in my other fic "Of Fur and Musk". Okay, well... heres Sessy in his own little spot light. I just seem to love the mix of angst and lemon. Can't explain the attraction, guess its the parts in me that love tragedy and romance. Anyways, this fic will have gratuitous sexual situations. So if your under age or just a prude, then don't read it. Please be kind, read and leave a review!
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Chapter One
Time had never had much baring, it was a trivial matter when you were eternal. Years could pass like days, cycles of the moon could flit by like fragile petals set adrift upon the winds. But eventually in all things, they decayed, turned to ruin and dust while he stood untouched, unmarred by the ravages of time. And nothing had been more a reminder of the ill conceived concepts of mortality and the brief and brittle lives of humans, than his beloved Rin. How beautiful a flower, how sweetly naive and sheltered his dear child, grown to a maid, never to be mother and unfulfilled in the rites of passage to crone. The world had born her to blossom, left her untended in a savage garden for him to find, to pluck from the shadows of taller foliage and keep. But in the same breath nature had breed her to bloom and perish, to return to which she had come with no one left to lament her divine presence.
No one, but him. Would he in time forget her, his precious and harbored keepsake? Had others come before her and he'd merely pushed the memories aside, washed them away like he would dirt from his claws? No, she was the blood on his hands, to be licked slowly and savored, to be remembered again and again in the rush of the next kill, in the fresh recollection of that coppery libation rushing hot and sweet down his throat. The memory of her would float just beneath his vision, surreal and untouchable, ghostly glimpses of places she should have been. As if she walked behind, just a step or two, always just there out of his line of vision and never more than an awareness of what he'd silently treasured. He knew nothing of regret, if he'd realized to late her potential as anything other than child, it was simply that that was the way it had been meant to be. No sense in him going over things that never were going to happen, or that had not happened. What was left him was just enough, enough to help to fill the part in his heart that had been reserved solely for the smiling little girl and the comely blossom she'd matured into.
Turning from the window, his eyes glanced about the chambers that had once been hers. He'd found himself here more often than not, simply staring out the window, not truly seeing the skyline or the sunset that greeted him with its brilliant and dazzling color spray. Everything was almost as it had been left, all things in order where she'd lovingly placed them, had made it cozy, had made it her own . Even the vases still held the flowers she'd often pick, though they had long since dried and lost their pleasant scents. But the smell of her had been infused into everything here and even the slow passage of time couldn't make it disappear from the drapings on the bed, the nick knacks that littered the shelves. It had proven the strongest pull of all, the sweetest lure in the wee hours of the night when his restless mind could find no sleep.
His feet carried him to the bed, silent footsteps across the crimson rug where she'd spent many hours reading in her later years. Still marked with the stain where she'd cut herself after dropping a vase in her excitement to greet him. The servants never came here, never disturbed him in the solace of this private place, giving over to the superstition that her spirit still roamed the rooms. That an he'd nearly killed the last servant that had dared to tread into his quiet contemplation. Golden orbs traced the darker pattern across the otherwise flawless rug, it'd proven impossible to remove all traces of the damage, but he found he preferred it this way. A little flaw in all the perfection, an analogy he supposed to the two of them.
It was a harsh definition to any that hadn't truly understood the nature of human to youkai. It wasn't narrow-mindedness, it simple was. It would have been like comparing the sun to the light of a candle, though it had the capacity to burn high and bright, it could easily be snuffed and burnt through. The more brilliant the illumination, the faster it ended, the quicker it died out. She'd been blinding in her intensity now that he considered it, radiant and shining all too profoundly and every minuscule moment had been for him whether he saw it or not. He had all the time in the world now to recall each moment with her that he'd neglected then, to memorize the sway of her hips as she ran, reminisce about the way the silk of her kimonos had whisper enticingly. How her laughter had been like the sweet tinkling of tiny musical bells in the distance, clear and pronounced and unique.
Cocking his head slightly to the side, his body suddenly felt weary in a way he couldn't clearly explain. Golden slits alighted once more upon the bed he'd been staring past, the deep rich brown of the spread evoking images of her hair, so silken, so wild and free thrown carelessly across the pillows. The visual pulled at things low in his body, gave reaction to his flesh, stirred his passions even if only inwardly. His stoic features never faulted never shifted from the indifferent slightly bored expression that had comprised his appearance, he was the Lord of the Western Lands, the taiyoukai of the House of the Moon, unmoved and reticent toward the scopes of emotion. They were a weakness he'd learned to overcome at any early age, he was master and let none think less of him. Least they learn the truth at the end of his jyaki whip.
Lowering himself down into the welcoming softness he pushed the weights of responsibility from his mind, titles meant nothing here to him. The world did not rest on his shoulders here, he'd slipped those things aside like removing his shoes at the door. The blankets gave gently beneath his weight, her scent rushing up around him, engulfing him in its heady fragrance and lulling him into a sense of reverie deeper than actual sleep could ever grant. For a long moment, he could feel her arms around him, holding him close, circling him into the remembering warmth they'd shared many times toward the end. Like serene wisps of mist swirling through a silent wood the recollections of her carnal flesh swept over him, supine to the sensations assaulting his senses as if he'd been there all over again, could rouse the honeyed sapor of her essence.......
A/N: This fic is from the point of view Sesshoumaru if anyone has a problem figuring that out. It's for all those people that keep telling "we want Sessy..we WANT Sessy" in my other fic "Of Fur and Musk". Okay, well... heres Sessy in his own little spot light. I just seem to love the mix of angst and lemon. Can't explain the attraction, guess its the parts in me that love tragedy and romance. Anyways, this fic will have gratuitous sexual situations. So if your under age or just a prude, then don't read it. Please be kind, read and leave a review!
------------------------------------------------------------------------ --------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------
Chapter One
Time had never had much baring, it was a trivial matter when you were eternal. Years could pass like days, cycles of the moon could flit by like fragile petals set adrift upon the winds. But eventually in all things, they decayed, turned to ruin and dust while he stood untouched, unmarred by the ravages of time. And nothing had been more a reminder of the ill conceived concepts of mortality and the brief and brittle lives of humans, than his beloved Rin. How beautiful a flower, how sweetly naive and sheltered his dear child, grown to a maid, never to be mother and unfulfilled in the rites of passage to crone. The world had born her to blossom, left her untended in a savage garden for him to find, to pluck from the shadows of taller foliage and keep. But in the same breath nature had breed her to bloom and perish, to return to which she had come with no one left to lament her divine presence.
No one, but him. Would he in time forget her, his precious and harbored keepsake? Had others come before her and he'd merely pushed the memories aside, washed them away like he would dirt from his claws? No, she was the blood on his hands, to be licked slowly and savored, to be remembered again and again in the rush of the next kill, in the fresh recollection of that coppery libation rushing hot and sweet down his throat. The memory of her would float just beneath his vision, surreal and untouchable, ghostly glimpses of places she should have been. As if she walked behind, just a step or two, always just there out of his line of vision and never more than an awareness of what he'd silently treasured. He knew nothing of regret, if he'd realized to late her potential as anything other than child, it was simply that that was the way it had been meant to be. No sense in him going over things that never were going to happen, or that had not happened. What was left him was just enough, enough to help to fill the part in his heart that had been reserved solely for the smiling little girl and the comely blossom she'd matured into.
Turning from the window, his eyes glanced about the chambers that had once been hers. He'd found himself here more often than not, simply staring out the window, not truly seeing the skyline or the sunset that greeted him with its brilliant and dazzling color spray. Everything was almost as it had been left, all things in order where she'd lovingly placed them, had made it cozy, had made it her own . Even the vases still held the flowers she'd often pick, though they had long since dried and lost their pleasant scents. But the smell of her had been infused into everything here and even the slow passage of time couldn't make it disappear from the drapings on the bed, the nick knacks that littered the shelves. It had proven the strongest pull of all, the sweetest lure in the wee hours of the night when his restless mind could find no sleep.
His feet carried him to the bed, silent footsteps across the crimson rug where she'd spent many hours reading in her later years. Still marked with the stain where she'd cut herself after dropping a vase in her excitement to greet him. The servants never came here, never disturbed him in the solace of this private place, giving over to the superstition that her spirit still roamed the rooms. That an he'd nearly killed the last servant that had dared to tread into his quiet contemplation. Golden orbs traced the darker pattern across the otherwise flawless rug, it'd proven impossible to remove all traces of the damage, but he found he preferred it this way. A little flaw in all the perfection, an analogy he supposed to the two of them.
It was a harsh definition to any that hadn't truly understood the nature of human to youkai. It wasn't narrow-mindedness, it simple was. It would have been like comparing the sun to the light of a candle, though it had the capacity to burn high and bright, it could easily be snuffed and burnt through. The more brilliant the illumination, the faster it ended, the quicker it died out. She'd been blinding in her intensity now that he considered it, radiant and shining all too profoundly and every minuscule moment had been for him whether he saw it or not. He had all the time in the world now to recall each moment with her that he'd neglected then, to memorize the sway of her hips as she ran, reminisce about the way the silk of her kimonos had whisper enticingly. How her laughter had been like the sweet tinkling of tiny musical bells in the distance, clear and pronounced and unique.
Cocking his head slightly to the side, his body suddenly felt weary in a way he couldn't clearly explain. Golden slits alighted once more upon the bed he'd been staring past, the deep rich brown of the spread evoking images of her hair, so silken, so wild and free thrown carelessly across the pillows. The visual pulled at things low in his body, gave reaction to his flesh, stirred his passions even if only inwardly. His stoic features never faulted never shifted from the indifferent slightly bored expression that had comprised his appearance, he was the Lord of the Western Lands, the taiyoukai of the House of the Moon, unmoved and reticent toward the scopes of emotion. They were a weakness he'd learned to overcome at any early age, he was master and let none think less of him. Least they learn the truth at the end of his jyaki whip.
Lowering himself down into the welcoming softness he pushed the weights of responsibility from his mind, titles meant nothing here to him. The world did not rest on his shoulders here, he'd slipped those things aside like removing his shoes at the door. The blankets gave gently beneath his weight, her scent rushing up around him, engulfing him in its heady fragrance and lulling him into a sense of reverie deeper than actual sleep could ever grant. For a long moment, he could feel her arms around him, holding him close, circling him into the remembering warmth they'd shared many times toward the end. Like serene wisps of mist swirling through a silent wood the recollections of her carnal flesh swept over him, supine to the sensations assaulting his senses as if he'd been there all over again, could rouse the honeyed sapor of her essence.......