InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ My Hatred, My Obsession ❯ What I Hate Most ( Chapter 2 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

By: raven91

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My Hatred, My Obsession

Chapter 2 - What I Hate Most

He was devastated.

Hell, they were all devastated.

How could they have lost her so easily? In their haste to find the jewel fragment, they had not noticed that she was gone until it was too late. He had searched the entire river for her, had gone through the forest, jumping from tree to tree, looking under every bush, but her scent was illusive. Worry etched the lines of his face, and no matter what the others tried to say to reassure him of her safety, he refused to believe. He kept feeling the nagging guilt building and building…

He had left her alone. Sango told him that she hadn't been feeling well since the previous morning, and he felt terrible - as he usually did - for leaving her alone to go to Kikyo. He knew that she understood; that wasn't what he was worried about. She had amazed him with the great capacity she had in her to forgive and to completely accept his confusion. His last meeting with the dead miko had been a revelation. He realized what a mistake he had made by thinking that he still harbored strong feelings for her. Of course, he would always love her; that was not doubtful. His Kikyo had been ripped away from him before their relationship really had a chance to bloom. But he understood when he saw the wariness in her eyes as she backed away from his attention that she had never, and would never really trust him. But could love survive between two beings if there was no trust between them?

He understood his feelings a bit better now, but that did not mean that he was ready to make a choice. In a way, he felt that he wasn't being fair towards Kagome. They had been together for over five years, and she knew him inside and out. He, on the other hand, knew much about her, but sometimes, he felt like he hadn't even begun to understand her many turns and angles. He knew one thing for sure, and that was that Kikyo did not love him any longer. He was not as happy as he had always been around her; he did not feel comfortable with her. Her eerie silence, pale complexion, lifeless eyes…everything about her made him doubt his feelings. He threw the subject aside in favor of worry.

Right now, all he wanted was to see Kagome safe…

(……………………R 30;..)

There was no doubt about it.

It was her scent.

But it was impossible. He had killed her. How could it be that she was here?

He could smell blood along with sandalwood soap and some kind of Gardenia flower, heard the sound of water flowing rapidly, and wondered what she would be doing there. He could not detect his brother anywhere near her, and could not feel the holy powers of the monk that usually traveled with them. All in all: the situation simply did not make sense. Out of curiosity, he decided to find out what was going on…

There were few things that made an impact on him; few things that could really stir him. In most cases, creatures feared him; feared catching his eye unless they had a death wish. It was common knowledge that he sought power; hungered for it like some savage beast. And it was well known that it was better - not to mention safer - to pass by him undetected. But even if he did happen to see you, you were probably better off paying your respects. After all, he loved being worshipped. But delaying him would be a mistake as well. Time was important to him - despite the unlimited quantity he possessed. He hated wasting time on anything, and would not hesitate to steal yours…

And so he traveled, always wary, distrusting, and cautious, yet at the same time completely indifferent to his environment. He sought something that even he could not describe. Power had been his original desire…he had needed it more than anything…but as time passed, he came to realize that power was not what he wanted at all. He was not old…only six hundred or some years had passed since his birth…and only seventy had gone by since his bastard brother's appearance in the world. But seventy years was still time…

And as the winds of that great force blew by him - despite the fact that it could not affect him - he could not help but feel a bit intimidated. He was supposed to be the master…the rulerof that force. He had centuries ahead of him yet! But if that was so…why did he feel like some useless particle of air, simply floating without a point to its existence?

It was usually when his thoughts were this heavy that he set out to patrol his lands. He liked to keep track of everything that went on on his property. He despised ignorance almost as much as he hated Lords who were too busy wasting time fooling around when they should be taking care of business on their lands. The common people needed an iron fist to rule them, and he was more than glad to provide it.

But perhaps what he had seen as a strength within himself was even now turning into a weakness.

He was possessive.

Too possessive.

So possessive, that when he saw her on the bank, he wanted to kill her for making him feel something so strong.

But that was wrong.

She was dead. How could he kill something that was already no longer a part of the living world?

He could not!

And so he stood, simply staring endlessly at her. Memories were flashing continuously through his mind's eye. They were so vivid, that he almost felt like he was reliving that night once again. The riverbank was disappearing, the water was drying up, and the girl was opening her eyes.

Her smell was engulfing him, her breathing was exciting him, and her wild heartbeat was making his blood come to life! The taste of her was magnificent! She was all fire and anger, fighting him, kicking, screaming, hitting him! And her blood was sweeter than he imagined! Her breaths were honey…her lips soft and pliant…

The water was returning. The girl's eyes closed and she moved away from him. The sand poured back onto the riverbank and the sky was once again sunlit. The wind blew his robes gently behind him, and her scent drifted to him like some storm-ravaged victim to an island of salvation. His growl was feral; the anger in it real and thick. How dare she come to taunt him? How dare she live after he had left her for dead? Did she believe that she could move him somehow?

He walked to her and prodded her still form with a foot. She didn't move. Only her blood and shallow breathing stained the air. He made a sound of annoyance in the back of his throat and turned around, fully prepared to abandon her where she was, but he stopped. It was as if he was somehow bound to the woman. He could take no step away, no breath without seeing her. His lust for power suddenly seemed very pale in comparison to his lust for the one and only thing he hated most…

…her…