InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Knotted Kite Strings ❯ A decent animal ( Chapter 1 )

"I was just bony hands, as cold as a winter pole
you held a warm stone out… new flowing blood to hold.
Oh, what a contrast you were
to the brutes in the halls--
my timid young fingers held a decent animal.

"Over the ramparts you tossed
the scent of your skin and some foreign flowers…
tied to a brick,
sweet as a song,
the years have been short but the days were long.

"Cool of a temperate breeze, from dark skies to wet grass.
We fell in a field--it seems, now, a thousand summers passed.
When our kite lines first crossed,
we tied them into knots,
and to finally fly apart,
we had to cut them off.

"Since then it's been a book you read in reverse,
so you understand less as the pages turn--
or a movie so crass
and awkardly cast
that even I could be the star.

"I don't look back as much as a rule,
and all this, way before murder was cool…
but your memory is here and I'd like it to stay--
warm light on a winter day.

"Over the ramparts you tossed
the scent of your skin and some foreign flowers…
tied to a brick,
sweet as a song.
The years have been short but the days go slowly by.

Two loose kites falling from the sky,
drawn to the ground and an end to flight."

~"Pink Bullets"- The Shins

Chapter One~

"I was just bony hands, as cold as a winter pole
you held a warm stone out… new flowing blood to hold.
Oh, what a contrast you were
to the brutes in the halls--
my timid young fingers held a decent animal...."

“Away! You are not wanted here!”

In that moment, my eight-year-old heart shattered. My silver hair streaming behind me, I ran, heedless of direction, not caring where I went, the only thing on my mind was getting away from where I had been before the pieces of my heart were ground so small that they were unmendable and irretrievable.

As I ran, I attempted not to think of the scene that I had left behind. In spite of myself, I saw my father, the Great Inutaisho, gazing lovingly at his human mate, Izayoi, as she glared at me…icy daggers that melted when her husband looked into her eyes, but reformed themselves when he closed his eyes as he kissed her. It was, perhaps, the kiss that was the most painful to my young heart, even more so than her spiteful words. In the two years since my mother, Inutaisho's first, youkai, mate, had died, and my father had elevated her from the level of concubine to mate. She had had her son, Inuyasha, a year earlier, and since that day, she had done all in her power to make me feel out of place in my own home. These words, thrown almost carelessly at me over my father's shoulder, were the last drop that broke the water jug. I am not sure if my father followed me, or spoke a harsh word to his woman, but at this point, it is an irreversible fact that he did not appear that day to comfort me. No, that was the undertaking of another…

After running until my legs wore out, I began to feel thirsty. I could sense water nearby, and followed my keen sense of smell to an old well at the base of an even older, gnarled tree. Tears slowing to a trickle, I dipped the bucket into the well, and began to haul it up for a drink, when, from behind me, I heard a small, bright voice.

“Hello there! What are you doing here? My name's Kagome, but you can just call me `Gome, everybody does. What's your name?”

I turned around. The girl was probably around six, two years younger than me, and had a tangled mass of jet black hair surrounding her head. She looked like the picture of innocence, with a smile on her face and her wide, deep blue eyes.

“Ooh, that's a pretty moon on your forehead.” At this point, she noticed the tears on my cheeks, which had not fully dried. “Why are you crying?” asked “'Gome” in a more subdued tone. “Did you hurt yourself?”

By this time, I was wondering who this girl was, and why I had not smelled her before. I must have been too distracted… I furiously wiped away my tears and stated, warily, “I'm Sesshomaru.” I bowed slightly, and she bowed back.

“I am pleased to meet you, Sesshomaru. What made you sad, before?”

“It was nothing. I should not have reacted as such a child.”

“It's ok, you can tell me! Who'm I gonna tell?”

“My stepmother told me to leave.”

“How come? Doesn't she love you?” `Gome looked comfused.

I snorted, but it came out sounding more like a choked sob. “No, she doesn't.”

“How come?”

“I don't know. She wants her some to be more important to…my father than me…I think it might-- be working…” I didn't want to tell her that I was a prince…it always scared people away, and right now, I really needed someone to talk to, even if it was the odd human girl. I choked out the last few words, and before I could stop them, new tears welled up in my eyes.

The next moment, I was bowled over by Gome's small form. She wrapped her small arms around my shoulders in a spontaneous hug.

“I'm sorry Sessho-kun! I'm sure that your daddy loves you. Mine sure did.” Her face darkened a moment…”he died last year. I miss him lots.” Then she brightened up again. “I bet I have something that will make you happy again!”

She pulled from the pocket a round jewel that nearly filled her small palm. It was glowing faintly pink, and the inside looked like it was filled with iridescent clouds. “Whenever I used to get sad, grandpa used to tell me to rub it and I would feel better again. Here, Sessho, you try!” She handed me the jewel.

It was slightly warm under my touch. Feeling slightly silly, I rubbed my fingers over the surface. I instantly felt a warmth course through me, loosening my shoulder muscles, which I hadn't even realized were tense.

“…Wow…thank you very much!” I said, so relaxed that I forgot to act distant and aloof.

“Sure!” she said. “I told you it would help!”

“It sure did!”

Gome stood up, and gingerly straightened her clothes. I noticed her somewhat embarrassed expression and looked at her questioningly. She blushed.

“Grandpa made me dress up for the festival today. These are not as comfy as my normal clothes, but he and mama will me mad if I get dirty.”

I surveyed her clothing. It was a simple blue silk kimono that matched her eyes, with small white sakura blossoms embroidered into fabric. I found it entertaining that her kimono matched her scent: sakura blossoms, grass, and sunshine. However, though well chosen, the kimono was nothing that one would not have seen on any given day at the court, and I could not understand the reason for her discomfort. What would she normally wear, if not a kimono?

Wanting to reassure the girl after her kindness to me, I said, “I think you look pretty.”

She blushed even redder.

I grinned.

It was the first time all day that my new friend had been silent.