InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Lolita: Sesshomaru and Rin ❯ Another Letter ( Chapter 18 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: animetributes 
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 02.04.2016 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.3K | Visits: 194 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 02.04.2016 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.3K | Visits: 194 | Status: Completed
(Sesshomaru's P.O.V.)
Whoever it was that took Rin, I swear on my father's grave that I will kill him. This Sesshomaru will have his head; I am sure of it.
Following Rin's escape from me, I retraced our routes and revisited all the hotels that we'd stayed at. I'd pretend to casually flip through the hotel register, timing my inquries carefully so that I did not attract any unwanted attention. Out of the three hundred or so books that I looked at, around twenty of them showed that the man had made stops even more than we did, signing into hotel registers using various creative and sophisticated fake names.
I suspect that he and Rin had been in touch since the very beginning of the trip.
When I returned to Beardsley, I became paranoid about a male art teacher who had once taught at Lolita's school, and I waited outside his classroom for him with my gun in my pocket, intending to confront him. Then I realized that I had become ridiculous-just because he taught one class there didn't mean anything. So I got in touch with a detective, but he soon proved himself incompetent and useless.
Writing this memoir of sorts keeps making me forget that these events are in the past. I even tried to rid myself of her possessions, but it seems like Rin is still here with me, haunting me.
In my loneliness, I began a relationship with a woman twice Lolita's age whom I had met one May evening somewhere between Montreal and New York in a bar. She was a bit drunk and kept insisting that we had gone to school together; I was hesitant at first, but when she sobered up she proved to be kind and selfless just like Kagome had been, but unlike Kagome, she was controlled, mature and shall I say, a bit stoic-kind of like myself. So I gave Kikyo, the Kagome look-a-like, a try.
Kikyo quickly became embarassed by her initial behavior and explained that she did not usally drink so much; she was just having trouble getting over her divorce.
"You know, my ex-husband actually kind of looked like you." she noted. "Until he went and ran off with that tramp. But that was years ago, and we're just now getting the divorce finalized."
Maybe she was only trying to replace his memory with me, but I didn't care. I was too busy secretly drowning in my own sorrows, and she and I stayed together for two years. Her calm demeanor was unlike the upbeat women that I was used to, and she saved me from going insane. During those days, I gave up on my search for Rin and just enjoyed her boring, yet sane company.
Still, every time we were on the road, I couldn't help returning to the old hotels to relive momories of Lolita, though I couldn't bring myself to actually enter them.
Once, I left Kikyo at a bar to go check out one of the hotels that I had stayed in with Rin, but could only stare at the front door. When I came back she smiled at me wistfully.
"Soon you're gonna leave me, just like everyone else." She concluded.
I said nothing. We just went back to the car, drove up to New York, and when we got back home she seemed reasonably content.
Back then, I paid her words no mind, but it turned out that she had been right. We gradually spent more and more time away from each other until we were living apart, though we'd visit each other. On one such visit, I discovered two letters.
The first was from Miroku, who was hysterically informing me about Sango's death. I was shocked-I expected him to remain the rational, level-headed man that I knew him as even after losing his wife to cancer. But he was saying that he could no longer look after Sara's affairs and he was handing everything over to another lawyer named Totosai.
However, he was determined to get his life back together, and he had re-married to try to start a family. He was saddened that we were unaware of Rin's whereabouts and wished us all the best.
The second letter that I read shook my entire being.
Father,
How have you been? Rin is now married and pregnant, expecting a baby around Christmas. My apologies-I still sometimes speak in third person. It's a habit that I seemed to pick up from you. Kohaku has been promised a job in Alaska, but we still don't have enough money to pay our debts and get out of here. I apologize for witholding our home address from you; I don't want to take any chances. You might still be angry at me, and I don't want Kohaku to know anything. But please, father, if you could help us out-even three to four hundred is fine-we'd be eternally grateful. You can sell some of my old things if you'd like. We just need enough to get us by-life has been so difficult for me.
Love,
Rin
So I set out on the road with my gun, determined to kill this Kohaku, convinced that he was the one who took Lolita away from me. I completely forgot about Kikyo and everything else the moment that I read the note. I watched her smile in her sleep, convinced myself that she was alright and left her side forever, leaving a note at her bedside table.
I was gonna win. As soon as I found a secluded little spot, I began rehearsing Kohaku's death, marveling at the image of his bloody corpse in my mind.
She didn't leave her address, but she did leave the name of the town that she lived in, Coalmont, on the envelope. It was a small industrial town around eight hundred miles from New York City. I drove around for quite some time and ended up in a motor court room, and assumed that Kohaku must have been some sort of car salesman who offered Rin a ride that day when her bike blew a tire, and had gotten himself into some trouble.
I felt something running through my veins as I held my gun that day; a thrill that comes from knowing that you hold someone else's life in the palm of your hands. It was power, pure power, and I decided that I loved the feeling of it.
That night I got dressed in the most expensive clothes that I could find and polished my gun, envisioning my soon-to-be victory in my head.
And after asking almost everyone that I came across if they knew of a Kohaku, a store informed me that he lived at the last house on Hunter Road.
Kohaku. Prepare to die.
(A/N: In most movies, once the abuser is caught and/or the victim escapes, everything is happy from then on and the victim goes to some sort of wonderful foster/adoptive family and finds love. Real life usually isn't the same-Lo's situation in the book is more accurate as to the aftermath. Foster/adoptive homes aren't the peachy-keen, super-loving places the media makes them out to be, and the victim usually suffers for long, long after they escape. Some only truly escape in death. Meanwhile, many abusers get off the hook completely/do not get half of what they deserve while the victim that told on them is abducted from their homes, locked up in state institutions and thrown away as soon as they're of age. Like they say, no good deed goes unpunished.)
Whoever it was that took Rin, I swear on my father's grave that I will kill him. This Sesshomaru will have his head; I am sure of it.
Following Rin's escape from me, I retraced our routes and revisited all the hotels that we'd stayed at. I'd pretend to casually flip through the hotel register, timing my inquries carefully so that I did not attract any unwanted attention. Out of the three hundred or so books that I looked at, around twenty of them showed that the man had made stops even more than we did, signing into hotel registers using various creative and sophisticated fake names.
I suspect that he and Rin had been in touch since the very beginning of the trip.
When I returned to Beardsley, I became paranoid about a male art teacher who had once taught at Lolita's school, and I waited outside his classroom for him with my gun in my pocket, intending to confront him. Then I realized that I had become ridiculous-just because he taught one class there didn't mean anything. So I got in touch with a detective, but he soon proved himself incompetent and useless.
Writing this memoir of sorts keeps making me forget that these events are in the past. I even tried to rid myself of her possessions, but it seems like Rin is still here with me, haunting me.
In my loneliness, I began a relationship with a woman twice Lolita's age whom I had met one May evening somewhere between Montreal and New York in a bar. She was a bit drunk and kept insisting that we had gone to school together; I was hesitant at first, but when she sobered up she proved to be kind and selfless just like Kagome had been, but unlike Kagome, she was controlled, mature and shall I say, a bit stoic-kind of like myself. So I gave Kikyo, the Kagome look-a-like, a try.
Kikyo quickly became embarassed by her initial behavior and explained that she did not usally drink so much; she was just having trouble getting over her divorce.
"You know, my ex-husband actually kind of looked like you." she noted. "Until he went and ran off with that tramp. But that was years ago, and we're just now getting the divorce finalized."
Maybe she was only trying to replace his memory with me, but I didn't care. I was too busy secretly drowning in my own sorrows, and she and I stayed together for two years. Her calm demeanor was unlike the upbeat women that I was used to, and she saved me from going insane. During those days, I gave up on my search for Rin and just enjoyed her boring, yet sane company.
Still, every time we were on the road, I couldn't help returning to the old hotels to relive momories of Lolita, though I couldn't bring myself to actually enter them.
Once, I left Kikyo at a bar to go check out one of the hotels that I had stayed in with Rin, but could only stare at the front door. When I came back she smiled at me wistfully.
"Soon you're gonna leave me, just like everyone else." She concluded.
I said nothing. We just went back to the car, drove up to New York, and when we got back home she seemed reasonably content.
Back then, I paid her words no mind, but it turned out that she had been right. We gradually spent more and more time away from each other until we were living apart, though we'd visit each other. On one such visit, I discovered two letters.
The first was from Miroku, who was hysterically informing me about Sango's death. I was shocked-I expected him to remain the rational, level-headed man that I knew him as even after losing his wife to cancer. But he was saying that he could no longer look after Sara's affairs and he was handing everything over to another lawyer named Totosai.
However, he was determined to get his life back together, and he had re-married to try to start a family. He was saddened that we were unaware of Rin's whereabouts and wished us all the best.
The second letter that I read shook my entire being.
Father,
How have you been? Rin is now married and pregnant, expecting a baby around Christmas. My apologies-I still sometimes speak in third person. It's a habit that I seemed to pick up from you. Kohaku has been promised a job in Alaska, but we still don't have enough money to pay our debts and get out of here. I apologize for witholding our home address from you; I don't want to take any chances. You might still be angry at me, and I don't want Kohaku to know anything. But please, father, if you could help us out-even three to four hundred is fine-we'd be eternally grateful. You can sell some of my old things if you'd like. We just need enough to get us by-life has been so difficult for me.
Love,
Rin
So I set out on the road with my gun, determined to kill this Kohaku, convinced that he was the one who took Lolita away from me. I completely forgot about Kikyo and everything else the moment that I read the note. I watched her smile in her sleep, convinced myself that she was alright and left her side forever, leaving a note at her bedside table.
I was gonna win. As soon as I found a secluded little spot, I began rehearsing Kohaku's death, marveling at the image of his bloody corpse in my mind.
She didn't leave her address, but she did leave the name of the town that she lived in, Coalmont, on the envelope. It was a small industrial town around eight hundred miles from New York City. I drove around for quite some time and ended up in a motor court room, and assumed that Kohaku must have been some sort of car salesman who offered Rin a ride that day when her bike blew a tire, and had gotten himself into some trouble.
I felt something running through my veins as I held my gun that day; a thrill that comes from knowing that you hold someone else's life in the palm of your hands. It was power, pure power, and I decided that I loved the feeling of it.
That night I got dressed in the most expensive clothes that I could find and polished my gun, envisioning my soon-to-be victory in my head.
And after asking almost everyone that I came across if they knew of a Kohaku, a store informed me that he lived at the last house on Hunter Road.
Kohaku. Prepare to die.
(A/N: In most movies, once the abuser is caught and/or the victim escapes, everything is happy from then on and the victim goes to some sort of wonderful foster/adoptive family and finds love. Real life usually isn't the same-Lo's situation in the book is more accurate as to the aftermath. Foster/adoptive homes aren't the peachy-keen, super-loving places the media makes them out to be, and the victim usually suffers for long, long after they escape. Some only truly escape in death. Meanwhile, many abusers get off the hook completely/do not get half of what they deserve while the victim that told on them is abducted from their homes, locked up in state institutions and thrown away as soon as they're of age. Like they say, no good deed goes unpunished.)