InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Knotted Kite Strings ❯ All this, way before murder was cool ( Chapter 4 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: lostmarble 
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Suspense / Romance | Type: Songfic | Uploaded On: 03.06.2005 | Updated On: 09.08.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.6K | Visits: 395 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Suspense / Romance | Type: Songfic | Uploaded On: 03.06.2005 | Updated On: 09.08.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.6K | Visits: 395 | Status: Completed
Chapter Four~
"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 awkwardly 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.”
"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 awkwardly 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.”
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You are likely wondering how these jigsaw pieces of my life form a coherent puzzle. The answer is rather simple. As a child, I was constantly distanced from my family by my stepmother's disdain--even cruelty--and my father's apparent indifference. Over the years, my heart slowly froze, I suppose. It was a sort of self-preservation…but a frozen heart cannot heal. Not that I was complaining, I rather liked the numbness, especially since it gave me a sort of privacy. I had always been more happy alone than in the company of others; members of the court were often petty and superficial, both states of being that I find intolerable. However, when others of the nobility thought badly of you, or were envious, they searched for metaphorical (and sometimes literal) chinks in your armor through which to throw barbs at you. The fewer emotions that I felt, the less ammunition they would have. Through centuries of serving as a ruler, I found that this was also the easiest way to keep a firm grasp on power; the less that others know of your weaknesses, the less possibility they will find a way to overthrow you.
So, instead of dwelling on my past--the only thing that was able to cause me pain--I focused on ruling my kingdom. Under my rule, it has expanded its borders further than ever it did during the reign of my father. Through the centuries, I have, to my advisors' dismay, refused to take a mate. When asked, I gave the reason that having a mate would distract me, as it did my father. Though this proclamation may have placated my advisers, it failed to fully convince me. Surely I was not expecting the return of a girl who had, doubtless, been dead for nearly a millennium? Still, the ghost of that long-ago summer followed my steps, never further than my shadow, the only memory that I could put out of my mind… perhaps because I do not truly wish to do so. It warmed me, and could pull me out of a foul mood, when little else would keep me from killing every servant in the palace in my wrath.
But I digress. The crux is that my stoic, frigid appearance was more than superficial. Anger was one of the few emotions that I still allowed myself to feel, and that only because it was useful in battle. When I killed, I honestly did not feel pain, or even much remorse…only anger, or nothing at all. I had had such trouble taking a life when I was younger, but I had pushed this pain out of my mind as a part of my childhood: best left forgotten.
This changed, the first chink in my emotional control to melt, both suddenly and slowly…
You are likely wondering how these jigsaw pieces of my life form a coherent puzzle. The answer is rather simple. As a child, I was constantly distanced from my family by my stepmother's disdain--even cruelty--and my father's apparent indifference. Over the years, my heart slowly froze, I suppose. It was a sort of self-preservation…but a frozen heart cannot heal. Not that I was complaining, I rather liked the numbness, especially since it gave me a sort of privacy. I had always been more happy alone than in the company of others; members of the court were often petty and superficial, both states of being that I find intolerable. However, when others of the nobility thought badly of you, or were envious, they searched for metaphorical (and sometimes literal) chinks in your armor through which to throw barbs at you. The fewer emotions that I felt, the less ammunition they would have. Through centuries of serving as a ruler, I found that this was also the easiest way to keep a firm grasp on power; the less that others know of your weaknesses, the less possibility they will find a way to overthrow you.
So, instead of dwelling on my past--the only thing that was able to cause me pain--I focused on ruling my kingdom. Under my rule, it has expanded its borders further than ever it did during the reign of my father. Through the centuries, I have, to my advisors' dismay, refused to take a mate. When asked, I gave the reason that having a mate would distract me, as it did my father. Though this proclamation may have placated my advisers, it failed to fully convince me. Surely I was not expecting the return of a girl who had, doubtless, been dead for nearly a millennium? Still, the ghost of that long-ago summer followed my steps, never further than my shadow, the only memory that I could put out of my mind… perhaps because I do not truly wish to do so. It warmed me, and could pull me out of a foul mood, when little else would keep me from killing every servant in the palace in my wrath.
But I digress. The crux is that my stoic, frigid appearance was more than superficial. Anger was one of the few emotions that I still allowed myself to feel, and that only because it was useful in battle. When I killed, I honestly did not feel pain, or even much remorse…only anger, or nothing at all. I had had such trouble taking a life when I was younger, but I had pushed this pain out of my mind as a part of my childhood: best left forgotten.
This changed, the first chink in my emotional control to melt, both suddenly and slowly…
***
I had been patrolling my land when I was wounded in battle. In a seemingly isolated, meaningless incident, a young human girl attempted to aid me, and brought me food.
At least, the incident would have been isolated, had not her expression been so familiar….
The girl was probably around six, and had a tangled mass of dark hair surrounding her head. She looked like the picture of innocence, with a smile on her face and wide, deep brown eyes.
The exact color of the hair and eyes may have been different, but the overall similarity was enough to momentarily throw me. Then I noticed the bruises covering her thin body. This difference was enough to bring me back to reality, and I froze over again, acting more coldly towards the girl than was probably necessary, as she had, for whatever reason, been trying to aid me. I parted with her rather abruptly, feeling an odd aching sensation threading its way through my abdomen when I closed my eyes and saw the bruises on her small frame.
I had hoped that that would be the end of the matter, but I was mistaken.
Not long after, I came upon the same girl again, but in quite a different state. Her dark hair was matted with blood…actually, her young body was covered in it. Her clothes were torn, and I could see the many cuts that had come from the fatal struggle. It was little different from other scenes of death that I had seen over the years, many of which I had caused, but for some reason, my stomach clenched, and my sword hummed at my side. Coming to my senses, I remembered its power, and, barely considering my actions, sliced through the girl's unmoving frame.
Suddenly, her chest rose as air rushed into her lungs, and the many cuts and bruises on her skin healed. Waxy pallor was replaced with the warmth of life.
The girl was probably around six, and had a tangled mass of dark hair surrounding her head. She looked like the picture of innocence, with a smile on her face and wide, deep brown eyes.
The exact color of the hair and eyes may have been different, but the overall similarity was enough to momentarily throw me. Then I noticed the bruises covering her thin body. This difference was enough to bring me back to reality, and I froze over again, acting more coldly towards the girl than was probably necessary, as she had, for whatever reason, been trying to aid me. I parted with her rather abruptly, feeling an odd aching sensation threading its way through my abdomen when I closed my eyes and saw the bruises on her small frame.
I had hoped that that would be the end of the matter, but I was mistaken.
Not long after, I came upon the same girl again, but in quite a different state. Her dark hair was matted with blood…actually, her young body was covered in it. Her clothes were torn, and I could see the many cuts that had come from the fatal struggle. It was little different from other scenes of death that I had seen over the years, many of which I had caused, but for some reason, my stomach clenched, and my sword hummed at my side. Coming to my senses, I remembered its power, and, barely considering my actions, sliced through the girl's unmoving frame.
Suddenly, her chest rose as air rushed into her lungs, and the many cuts and bruises on her skin healed. Waxy pallor was replaced with the warmth of life.
***
Since then, the girl has traveled with me, and sees me as her Lord and protector. Her presence has warmed me slightly. It is almost as though I were spending time with, and protecting…but I always reminded myself that she was not the same girl. Whenever I did so, I could replace my stony façade.
The façade was belied only by the two bright strings around my wrist, which, through the years and centuries, had somehow neither faded nor broken off, rather, they seemed to have stretched to accommodate their wearer. I kept them covered under the sleeve of my kimono, not wanting to expose myself to questioning, but also to protect myself from bringing the memory too near. However, between these and the small girl, the memories followed closer than ever before, always on my mind and giving me scarce a moment's peace.
Therefore, when I encountered the hauntingly familiar miko in the castle, and smelled sakura blossoms and grass on the breeze, my emotional barriers were stretched nearly to the breaking point…
The façade was belied only by the two bright strings around my wrist, which, through the years and centuries, had somehow neither faded nor broken off, rather, they seemed to have stretched to accommodate their wearer. I kept them covered under the sleeve of my kimono, not wanting to expose myself to questioning, but also to protect myself from bringing the memory too near. However, between these and the small girl, the memories followed closer than ever before, always on my mind and giving me scarce a moment's peace.
Therefore, when I encountered the hauntingly familiar miko in the castle, and smelled sakura blossoms and grass on the breeze, my emotional barriers were stretched nearly to the breaking point…
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so...I may get flamed since this is a break from the story line. and you may not like that he was talking directly to the reader but...this seemed the best way to show his take on his earlier life...or else it would read like a replay of the anime. I thought that some insight was needed as to how he felt about his earlier life, since you can never really tell. This chapter was one I had already written and I was debating whether or not to put it in...but it seems as though the explanation of Sesshomaru's character transition was in order.
What I want for yall to remember is that, during most of the story, he is only 8 years old. There had to be a point at which he became cold--people are not born that way--at least, I think that there was probably something that caused it, this desire to shelter himself emotionally by appearing emotionless. From my point of view, he was steeling himself against further pain--he gained and lost his last true friend at age 8...that is a lot for a child to bear. Even a demon child. Combined with what I interpret as his father's new devotion to Izayoi, a woman who disliked him and treated him badly, he would either be scarred for life or become cold as ice. Given his inherent traits and character, he became the latter (I pulled that idea from Emerson's "Fate"...)--hidden loneliness over constant emotional pain.
I hope that this helped clear things up...the action will resume in the present again with the next and final chapter of this part of the story.
so...I may get flamed since this is a break from the story line. and you may not like that he was talking directly to the reader but...this seemed the best way to show his take on his earlier life...or else it would read like a replay of the anime. I thought that some insight was needed as to how he felt about his earlier life, since you can never really tell. This chapter was one I had already written and I was debating whether or not to put it in...but it seems as though the explanation of Sesshomaru's character transition was in order.
What I want for yall to remember is that, during most of the story, he is only 8 years old. There had to be a point at which he became cold--people are not born that way--at least, I think that there was probably something that caused it, this desire to shelter himself emotionally by appearing emotionless. From my point of view, he was steeling himself against further pain--he gained and lost his last true friend at age 8...that is a lot for a child to bear. Even a demon child. Combined with what I interpret as his father's new devotion to Izayoi, a woman who disliked him and treated him badly, he would either be scarred for life or become cold as ice. Given his inherent traits and character, he became the latter (I pulled that idea from Emerson's "Fate"...)--hidden loneliness over constant emotional pain.
I hope that this helped clear things up...the action will resume in the present again with the next and final chapter of this part of the story.
Also, if you review, I WILL respond from now on…and since I know for a fact that over 200 of you have read this, and only 2 reviewed, I would like feedback on what you like, what I could do better, general comments, anything!