InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Gifts ❯ Gifts ( Chapter 1 )

Summary: He had watched as Kagura died in front of him. Now, months later, he must deal the last gift from her...

Wind Child

She kissed his lips in the morning.

She ran her fingers through his hair in the late of the afternoon.

She stroked in face in the late of night.

She remained with him as he traveled, dancing through the trees as he walked through the forest, sometimes giving his followers a gentle nudge to keep up with their master's long strides. She always remained ahead, always showing him the way, and he let her, letting the wind guide him.

She remained by his side in the heat of battle, often using herself to his advantage, pushing dust into the enemies' eyes. He was always irritated at her for that, only to be responded to with a slight breeze. She craved his attention, and he knew it, always looking past her, taunting her. He could anger her so easily, her anger evident by her harshness as she stung his skin.

She had done it all to remind him she was still with him.

She had surpassed him in strength, the loss of her mortal body made her more powerful than anything that walked. She was an elemental, a power in her own, able to lightly stroke a newborn's cheek to breaking the hardest of metals with the softest of woods. She could create life, yet she could destroy it just as easily. She could help the farmers fertilize their plants for the harvest, she could toss the largest of demons around like feathers, breaking them into pieces. But she didn't, she only danced amongst the skies, never to far.

She would remain until life rotted away into dust, until the skies covered with fire, swallowing all that lived so she could brush away the remains of the dead. But the earth refused to die. It always grew back, like the phoenix, one would die and another would rise from it's ashes, each generation of creatures leaving its scars on the earth for the next one to find and examine, the newest intelligent species always believing it was the ultimate, and always would be. But the generation that boasted itself would always fall, destroying itself by creating a false sense of security, and falling into ash when tapped in just the right place.

As of late, she had carried herself with less grace that usually, as if she was carrying something, both physically and mentally, a burden yet a gift, a joy yet a despair. He could feel her pain, her anguish, and when he whispered to her, she had leaned against him, clutching him, caressing him and shaking him, pleading to him and cursing him with unheard words. But he knew what she was feeling, but could not know what had caused it. So she remained with him closely, until her time, or what, he had yet to know.

But one morning, when the sun had yet to awaken from the horizon, and the bronze leaves were still moist with dew, she had roused, painfully and mercilessly, she had awaken the demon lord, the servant, and the child unapologetically, her power swinging in pain, more deadly than the most feral demon. He had warned his followers to find shelter, but he stood in the middle of her, her had stayed with her, and for three days he stayed at that very spot, waiting for her.

They had special bond while she was mortal. She had an admiration for him. He had a respect for her. She had envied his power, his strength, his intimidating stature. He had regard for her position as a slave, a tool for the ultimate malevolence. He remembered her coming to him, ripped at tattered, what should have killed her. She had dragged herself towards him cursing him, repeating what he said last time, and giving her reply.

"I don't have that kind of power Sesshoumaru. I cannot simply become stronger, only at his will am I allowed to change. I cannot even take my own life..." She had pulled out a blade from her pocket, holding it to her neck and ripping it across her throat. She bled for merely a few moments, before it healed completely. He had bedded her that night, the beginning of an affair that even the Malevolence himself had not traced, despite his hold on the wind witch's life.

Finally, her torrents had stopped, and she rested, leaving only a slight breeze, and a more amateur one that was not of her own, and the sound of a loud high crying reached his ears.

The little girl peeked out from behind the bushes, her brown eyes widening. She slowly made her way behind him, her light voice barely heard over the screaming. "Sesshoumaru-sama?"

He remained, his eyes fixated on the bundle. It was impossible, this being birthed from nothingness, but it lay there in the grass, the infant squealed, wrinkled and naked, its small claws flexing as its blood red eyes looked around. He studied it, noting its features, from his tuft of silver hair to the stripe one either side of its face. The only abnormality was the face that it had no navel, no sign of a connection to its mother, as if it had literally come out thin air, which it had.

It was his.

He stepped over to the demon infant, watching it closely as it moved. He reached over to his empty sleeve, ripping it off of his shoulder and wrapping it around the infant carefully. He walked back, carrying the newborn against his chest, feeling the wind against his face as he walked.

His followers hurried behind him as he walked off into the distance with silent knowing. The infant had calmed down, now slumbering peacefully in his father's arm. He looked on into the distance, as the wind gently touched at his face.

.

.

.

.

END

*Made after reading chapter 374, in memory of Kagura.