InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Forbidden Love ❯ Chapter II ( Chapter 2 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: rockthedragon7 
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 02.27.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 848 | Visits: 344 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 02.27.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 848 | Visits: 344 | Status: Completed
Chapter II
The demon lord let the cool water pour over his head, taking delight in the refreshing chills running down his spine as he sat on a stone beneath the gentle forest waterfall, hands folded diligently in his lap, eyes closed quietly, calmly against the images of green and russet that surrounded him. His knee-length silver hair, currently a sodden gray in colour, cascaded down his powerfully built back and over the rocky surface under the falls, glistening, glossy in the early afternoon sunlight. A jagged streak of deep blue against the bronzed skin of his face was etched below the wine red of each peacefully closed eyelid, and his strong neck descended into wide, sturdy shoulders, loose tendrils of hair trailing over them, to his thighs. The scents of the woodland drifted to him with every gentle, silent rise and fall of his broad chest - matsu and momiji well into blooming, the forest brook fresh and clear. The voices of the woods came to his open, pointed ears - the wind rustling through the leaves, the singing stream at his feet…
From along the shore of the woodland brook came an impassive yawn. “Remind me again, my lord, why we are here,” said a nasally voice.
He cracked one eye open to reveal an orb of radiant, tempestuous gold, and the corners of his lips turned up into a smile, showing off a pair of razor fangs. “Getting bored, are we, Myoga?”
“Unfortunately.” Myoga, a tiny flea demon dressed in an equally tiny kimono, appeared on one of the smooth rocks along the shoreline. “Forgive me, Lord Sugimi, but I find no pleasure in watching you bathe.”
Sugimi laughed, a deep sound that rolled forth from his chest like thunder. “Ah, my friend, but I am washing my cares away.” Lightly tossing his silver hair, he closed his eyes in repose. “If you happen to be in such a state of boredom, might I suggest you come sit beneath the falls as well?”
Myoga held up two of his four hands, declining the offer. “I’d rather not, my lord.” He turned and hopped a ways down the rocky shore to sunbathe on a large stone. Sugimi watched him with one unimpressed golden orb, grinning to himself, and shut his open eye. “By the way, my lord,” Myoga began after a minute of quiet between them. “Where might Master Sesshomaru be? I haven’t seen him in a good deal of time.”
Sugimi looked toward his flea demon companion in momentary puzzlement. Sesshomaru was his cynical two-hundred-year-old son, a product of mating without emotion. He was the image of his father’s last mistress, a demon femme fatal fallen into the bed of a charming demon lord - a short, erotic relationship that ended only a brief year after it had began. But Sugimi dearly loved the child as any father would. “Sesshomaru? Why on earth do you ask, Myoga?”
“I am simply curious, Lord Sugimi,” the flea answered bluntly. “It has been forty-one long years since I have last crossed paths with your son.”
Sugimi tilted his head. “Really now? That long?”
Myoga nodded, folding his two pairs of arms across his chest contemplatively. “If I may be so bold, Master Sesshomaru had always spurred my suspicion. He can seem rather questionable at times, if you know what I…” He glanced over his shoulder at his lord’s silence, finding Sugimi’s head up, body tense, and eyes fixed in the direction of the northeast…listening, watching, waiting. The flea demon furrowed his brow in confusion. “My lord…” He was cut short as Sugimi held up a hand, signaling Myoga to stay quiet. A heavy silence fell over the forest. Sugimi stood, water running off his body, and he soundlessly stepped through the stream to the stony shore, never allowing his eyes to leave the northeast. Myoga held his breath with nervous apprehension as he watched the demon lord noiselessly pass, Sugimi’s golden eyes set in a fierce study of the woods, muscles twitching with tension. His clawed fingers found the rich azure, ashen, and crimson silk of his clothing, which had been draped over a boulder, and he removed the fabric from the rock with a whispering rustle, quietly pulling on a red juban, white hakama, and a blue-striped ashen kariginu.
Myoga carefully trailed the demon lord as he moved to the border of the forest, stared intently through the trees, searched the woods with his keen eyes. “What is it, Lord Sugimi?” the flea demon barely breathed as he leapt onto his lord’s shoulder. “A demon?”
Sugimi turned his head toward his companion, keeping his eyes directed at the northeast, and his voice hushed. “No, my friend. It is a human.” A wayward smile found his lips, and he soundlessly spun around, eagerly seized the remaining articles of his attire resting atop the boulder, and vanished into the shade of the timberland.
Converting /tmp/phpW5wZg5 to /dev/stdout
The demon lord let the cool water pour over his head, taking delight in the refreshing chills running down his spine as he sat on a stone beneath the gentle forest waterfall, hands folded diligently in his lap, eyes closed quietly, calmly against the images of green and russet that surrounded him. His knee-length silver hair, currently a sodden gray in colour, cascaded down his powerfully built back and over the rocky surface under the falls, glistening, glossy in the early afternoon sunlight. A jagged streak of deep blue against the bronzed skin of his face was etched below the wine red of each peacefully closed eyelid, and his strong neck descended into wide, sturdy shoulders, loose tendrils of hair trailing over them, to his thighs. The scents of the woodland drifted to him with every gentle, silent rise and fall of his broad chest - matsu and momiji well into blooming, the forest brook fresh and clear. The voices of the woods came to his open, pointed ears - the wind rustling through the leaves, the singing stream at his feet…
From along the shore of the woodland brook came an impassive yawn. “Remind me again, my lord, why we are here,” said a nasally voice.
He cracked one eye open to reveal an orb of radiant, tempestuous gold, and the corners of his lips turned up into a smile, showing off a pair of razor fangs. “Getting bored, are we, Myoga?”
“Unfortunately.” Myoga, a tiny flea demon dressed in an equally tiny kimono, appeared on one of the smooth rocks along the shoreline. “Forgive me, Lord Sugimi, but I find no pleasure in watching you bathe.”
Sugimi laughed, a deep sound that rolled forth from his chest like thunder. “Ah, my friend, but I am washing my cares away.” Lightly tossing his silver hair, he closed his eyes in repose. “If you happen to be in such a state of boredom, might I suggest you come sit beneath the falls as well?”
Myoga held up two of his four hands, declining the offer. “I’d rather not, my lord.” He turned and hopped a ways down the rocky shore to sunbathe on a large stone. Sugimi watched him with one unimpressed golden orb, grinning to himself, and shut his open eye. “By the way, my lord,” Myoga began after a minute of quiet between them. “Where might Master Sesshomaru be? I haven’t seen him in a good deal of time.”
Sugimi looked toward his flea demon companion in momentary puzzlement. Sesshomaru was his cynical two-hundred-year-old son, a product of mating without emotion. He was the image of his father’s last mistress, a demon femme fatal fallen into the bed of a charming demon lord - a short, erotic relationship that ended only a brief year after it had began. But Sugimi dearly loved the child as any father would. “Sesshomaru? Why on earth do you ask, Myoga?”
“I am simply curious, Lord Sugimi,” the flea answered bluntly. “It has been forty-one long years since I have last crossed paths with your son.”
Sugimi tilted his head. “Really now? That long?”
Myoga nodded, folding his two pairs of arms across his chest contemplatively. “If I may be so bold, Master Sesshomaru had always spurred my suspicion. He can seem rather questionable at times, if you know what I…” He glanced over his shoulder at his lord’s silence, finding Sugimi’s head up, body tense, and eyes fixed in the direction of the northeast…listening, watching, waiting. The flea demon furrowed his brow in confusion. “My lord…” He was cut short as Sugimi held up a hand, signaling Myoga to stay quiet. A heavy silence fell over the forest. Sugimi stood, water running off his body, and he soundlessly stepped through the stream to the stony shore, never allowing his eyes to leave the northeast. Myoga held his breath with nervous apprehension as he watched the demon lord noiselessly pass, Sugimi’s golden eyes set in a fierce study of the woods, muscles twitching with tension. His clawed fingers found the rich azure, ashen, and crimson silk of his clothing, which had been draped over a boulder, and he removed the fabric from the rock with a whispering rustle, quietly pulling on a red juban, white hakama, and a blue-striped ashen kariginu.
Myoga carefully trailed the demon lord as he moved to the border of the forest, stared intently through the trees, searched the woods with his keen eyes. “What is it, Lord Sugimi?” the flea demon barely breathed as he leapt onto his lord’s shoulder. “A demon?”
Sugimi turned his head toward his companion, keeping his eyes directed at the northeast, and his voice hushed. “No, my friend. It is a human.” A wayward smile found his lips, and he soundlessly spun around, eagerly seized the remaining articles of his attire resting atop the boulder, and vanished into the shade of the timberland.
Converting /tmp/phpW5wZg5 to /dev/stdout