InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Limerance ❯ The First Soul ( Chapter 2 )

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Limerance

Chapter 1 - The First Soul

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It was no use.

She always came back.

No matter where he left her, she always found her way back to him.

At first, he simply left her behind. There was no way that she could follow his pace with her pathetic human feet.

After she'd first appeared - and had called his name - he'd been stunned. By the time he had regained his composure, she was tripping over herself to get to him. It wasn't until she was gripping one of his pant legs in her tiny fists that he managed to tear his gaze away from those hypnotic eyes. In a single, graceful, leap, he jumped back to put some solid distance between them.

"What are you?" he asked calmly, his voice bellying the trepidation that he felt. The moment that the question left his lips, he regretted voicing it. The creature was a child, after all. It shouldn't be able to understand complex words, let alone speak. After a moment, his theory was confirmed. His question went unanswered; the girl simply stared. Once again, her eyes gave him pause. It was as though he could see all the way down to her soul.

"…maru…" she mumbled.

Letting out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, he smoothed his face into a mask of firm indifference, turned on his heel, and walked away. This time, he hardened his resolve, and no matter how much his curiosity beckoned him to turn around, he did not. To make sure that there was no temptation, he took to the air, allowing the crisp air to clear his head. A thousand questions had been set aflame within his mind; it took all of his self-discipline not to dwell on them. It would not do to get mixed up in the affairs of mortals. If that child was indeed a form of the priestess, then her instincts would lead her to safety. If she was simply a human child - as illogical as that seemed - then nature would dictate if she was meant to live or not.

It took some time, but eventually his restlessness smoothed out. He pushed the incident to the back of his thoughts, wanting to focus on more pressing matters than dwelling on the existence of a useless creature. Stopping by his brother's forest to witness the ceremony of the Shikon had been a detour from the route of his usual patrol. It was time for him to resume his duties before he began the lengthy journey to his home. Even though Naraku was long dead, there was still unfinished business - rowdy demons, rising rebellions, and general malcontent. Such things were easy to put down; the trouble was that sending vassals to carry out such tasks only resulted in a waste of time and loss of servants. The only way to ensure the completion and efficiency of the tasks at hand was to do them in person.

He had come to terms - over several years - that his life would be much like his father's; home would be a notion he would have to eventually discard. It was a fate he was quite content to accept.

Time moved slowly for his kind.

He enjoyed the peace and quiet of going where and doing as he wished. There was a freedom in this sort of life that he would have had to give up had he chosen to stay and rule his estates. As it was, there were plenty of underlings that could manage the task quite well. If he chose to return, it would only be to rarely check upon the state of things or to appoint new retainers. Unfortunately, with Naraku on the loose, he had not had time to see his estates in many years. Despite his hesitation, he now had no choice but to ascertain their fate.

When the trees began to thin out beneath him, he decided to return to ground. As soon as his feet touched the earth, he realized that he had not eaten in some time. His nose picked up a multitude of scents - humans, fields, leaves, dry bark, a few lower demons, and - he frowned - the stench of pigs. Something else was there too - perhaps something that could be hunted. Was it a deer? Perhaps a strong beast that could give him the thrill of a chase? Interested, he followed the trail, periodically pausing to give his supposed prey a chance to get ahead. Stalking his potential victims was a pleasure he could not forgo, no matter the level of his hunger. He was the most dangerous of hunters - the sort that prowled patiently behind his target and could follow it relentlessly for days. When the victim least expected it - or perhaps weakened from the chase - he would strike and satisfy his need for blood.

So engaged in the hunt was he that he hardly noticed the sun setting. It was only when he came to the edge of a riverbank and saw the moon reflected in the water, that he realized how late it had gotten. Thoughtfully, he watched the clouds part to reveal the ruler of the night. Unbidden, an image floated up from his subconscious. When his gaze lowered to the river, he swore that he could see her standing there. Clenching his jaw, he reprimanded himself for his recent decline in logical behavior. Why did a single, accidental, bit of eye contact affect him so strongly? Why was he having to struggle so much to suppress something so ridiculous?

A twig snapped behind him, and he immediately turned around. His senses flared; his claws were ready to tear through the intruder. Was it his prey? Or was it just some foolish demon, thinking that it could best someone of his obviously higher caliber?

It was neither.

Not prey - not demon - not intruder.

It was simply her.

Her clothing was in tatters. There were twigs and dead leaves in her hair. Mud covered her legs all the way up to her knees. He could smell no blood; she wasn't injured. Despite the menacing aura around him, she continued to move forward, only stopping when she was right in front of him. Just like before, she had to crane her neck to look all the way up at him. No tears; no sadness; no typical childish frustration. She might as well have been a doll, so impassive was her face. All around, the sounds of the forest faded away. His tense, poison-covered, hand lowered to his side, the claws retracting to their normal length.

"Sesshoumaru," she whispered.

"Leave."

No response.

"Be gone."

Again, nothing.

A spark of anger ignited in his chest. He bent down to one knee before her, lengthening a single claw and pressing it against her cheek. Why not just kill her? Why not just finish what she, herself, had started in the clearing? It would be so simple. Just one flick of his wrist and she would be torn to pieces. No more trouble; no more curiosity; no more wondering.

"Leave, or you will be destroyed." He pressed his claw harder against her cheek. Blood welled up from the point of contact. His hand itched to do as his less patient side dictated. After some time passed and she did not budge, he called forth poison to his claws. He was prepared - he was ready to spill her blood onto the forest floor - when something cold was pressed against his face. Almost immediately, the haze of bloodlust left his vision and he realized that her small hand was touching his left cheek.

"Sesshoumaru…" she repeated. Hers was not a child's voice; it was the sound of spring rain - the rustling of an autumn breeze. He not only heard it; he felt it, too. Slowly, his hand lowered once more. For reasons he would never understand, he let her live that night. He walked away from her - again - hoping that this time, she would not return.

But, she did.

Whether he abandoned her in a human village, left her lost within the forest, or flew away from her for days, she still came back. After nearly a week, he stopped trying. She was ragged, filthy, and covered in scrapes. In all honesty, he could not explain how some predator had still not found her. The girl had to be the most helpless and vulnerable thing he'd ever seen, aside from the fact that he had yet to be witness to her tears. She did not speak - did not utter a single sound. The only thing he'd heard from her had been his name. How she knew it was a mystery. No matter how many times he'd tried to ask her who or what she was, she stayed silent.

What was he to do with her?

After giving it some thought, he decided that he would leave her to fate. Just because a predator hadn't found her yet, didn't mean that one wouldn't. Just because she hadn't gotten lost, didn't mean she wouldn't. Patience was a virtue he had in endless amounts. He would simply continue on his way. Eventually, she would fall off like a useless scab. A child her age had no chance of surviving without some sort of aid. If she was addled enough to follow someone that wouldn't show her any sign of assistance, then she deserved to die.

Things settled into a tentative routine. He lead, and she followed.

His first goal had been to reach a small village on the southern edge of his territories. There were rumors of a rebellion there. A group of demons - discontent with his dominance of the land - were gathering an army to send against him. Typically, such a thing would not have phased him. Whether it was an army or a handful of youkai, they stood no chance. He had no concerns about facing them; there was no doubt in his mind that he would easily rub them into the dirt like pesky roaches.

It was not the rebellion itself so much as the cause of it that intrigued him. There had not been a rebellion in over a hundred years, when some believed his father had shown weakness by taking a human mate. Naturally, his father had crushed the instigators. Since then, Sesshoumaru had vowed never to let his own image of a powerful sovereign waver in the least. Yet, somehow, it had; now, he was determined to find out the cause.

As he neared his destination, he sensed the presence of a great temple. From a secure distance, he observed it for some time, wondering how it was that he had never come across it in the past. He prided himself on his exceptional memory. The great Sesshoumaru made no mistakes. If he did not recall it, then it did not exist. Thus, he could know with complete certainty that the structure had to have been built in the span of the past ten years or so; that was the last time he has passed through this small area. With a scrutiny that did not miss a single detail, he watched the priests and priestesses go about their daily routines.

The building itself held no interest for him. It was the large, oddly shaped stone in the center of the main courtyard that really caught his eye. It looked to be a sacred monument - the sort of thing he'd seen in many other shrines. There was, however, something different about this stone. Carving littered the surface in strange patterns; he could not recognize the language. Even from where he stood, he could easily feel its power. This was no useless statue or tribute to imaginary deities. This thing was authentic. It radiated the sort of aura that ancient landmarks did - the sort of unexplained strength that pooled in some pockets of nature over centuries.

How, then, had he never seen it before?

The sound of scuffling interrupted his musings. He looked sideways to find that the child had managed to keep up with him as usual. Once more on edge, he waited for the penetrating stare that he had come to expect. It never came. The girl did not even glance in his direction; instead, her attention was completely devoted to the courtyard of the temple, blue eyes fixated on the mysterious stone that rested there. To his surprise, she broke into a run, clumsy - as usual - as she practically rolled and slid down the hill in her fervor. Despite himself, his curiosity was piqued once more. He chose to follow her.

Only for a moment - he assured himself.

The foliage was thick and full of thorns, but such obstacles failed to stop the child. She pushed through the brush, heedless of the twigs and sharp branches that caught at her clothes and hair. Eventually, she broke through the leaves, ran across the courtyard, and practically crashed into the monument. She's barefoot - was his stray thought. Quietly, he watched as she placed her palms against the rough stone, shifting until her lips were pressed against it too. Just like nearly two weeks prior in the clearing, a strong wind picked up seemingly from nowhere. This phenomenon did not go by unnoticed.

The priests that had filed into the shrine for prayer obviously felt that something was amiss. They ran out onto the decks, pointing and shouting something he could not make out over the howling of the wind. The carvings on the stone began to glow. There was something akin to an explosion. When the air cleared, the stone was cracked exactly down the middle. Beneath it, a flame was burning, and the girl was nowhere to be seen. The fire looked exactly as it had when he'd first found the child; the flames beckoned him forward. He moved slowly - wary of the consequences.

Silence opened its gaping maw, swallowing the shrine and its surroundings in a void-like vacuum. The only sound that remained was the roaring of the flames. As he stopped next to the shattered rock, they disappeared, leaving behind the form of the child. At last, she finally looked at him. He did not understand why he felt relieved. The dirt was gone; her hair was clean; her skin was unmarked. The only evidence of her persistent journey through the land was the yukata wrapped around her; it was torn beyond repair.

"Demons!" came a holler from his left. "Demons have attacked the Stone!" It was one of the priests.

"Begone, foul abominations!" Another human stood beside him, notching an arrow in his bow.

How futile - thought Sesshoumaru. There was no way that an arrow could match even a third of his speed. Just when he contemplated tearing out the human's windpipe, the girl sprang up to stand between them, her back to the men. She spread her arms outward in a gesture of protectiveness, an expression gracing her features for the first time.

Anger.

He raised an eyebrow at her antics, thinking that she looked completely ridiculous standing up to someone at least twenty times her size.

"No!" she said firmly. So, she could speak when she wanted to. Then again - he thought - a two letter word was not a sign of literacy. He took an experimental step forward. Her eyes narrowed. "No!" she repeated with more vehemence. In that moment, her unexpected behavior captivated him so much that he tuned out all of his surroundings. Once again, all he could see was those fierce orbs.

Something happened. There was a shift in the air. Before he could reprimand himself for his unacceptable behavior, he was watching as the priest's arrow embedded itself in the girl's back.

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To be continued...