InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Of Strings and Kevlar ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

Prologue

Heavy rainfall plummeted from the skies, making its mark on the earthen floor in the way of slick mud and large puddles. The combination of rain and mid-summer heat produced a sticky steam, rising from the ground and amplifying the already humid air that was common for Tokyo this time of year. Such sloppy conditions had proved to be too much for the other attendants, having fled the scene more than twenty minutes ago. It was just as well; now he could be alone with his thoughts without the constant barrage of supposed well-wishers and sympathizers.

The water pounded on the tops of his head and shoulders, drenching his waist-length silver hair and the black suit through to his skin until he felt rightly steamed inside the heavy fabric. He inclined his head slightly to shield his eyes from the stinging drops with his bangs, which were now limp and frizzy as they clung to his face. He watched the fat raindrops fall into the open ground, splattering on the top of the silver-plated urn and dripping down the sides, forming a quickly rising puddle beneath the small table. His amber eyes hardened, having days ago shed their tears for the man whose ashes were contained therein, and stared at the over-the-top spray of lilies and yellow chrysanthemums adorning the monument. He shook his head disgustedly, remembering how his brother had insisted on “only the best.”

“Only the best,” was Sesshomaru-talk for, “Make it scream of gaudy wealth and extravagance.”

Looking down, he shuffled his feet to loosen them from the sticky mud that was threatening to suck him into the earth. He idly wondered what his father would have to say about his decision to transfer to the university in America for his senior year, especially considering the reasons why. After all, the man had never been one to condone weakness; he made that blatantly clear throughout his entire life, up until the very end.

“Asshole,” he muttered, his voice sounding abruptly loud, even in the rain.

He couldn't really explain his hatred for the man, but it had been palpable since high school when he had told him he wanted to be a musician. At the time, the man had simply snorted his disgust at the apparently ludicrous declaration and returned to his tea and newspaper, shaking his head contemptuously.

But lurking somewhere in that dark loathing lay some degree of respect, no matter how small it may have been. He wasn't sure if love properly defined their relationship, but he could attest for admiring the man's strength in life; his consistency, his determination. He was also aware that this admiration did not run both ways. Fate was not without a cynical sense of humor, as it were.

A throat clearing brought him out of his brooding. He turned to the right to see a man standing a distance away, respectfully averting his eyes. Two other men stood nearby, glancing discreetly in his direction and speaking quietly to themselves.

Turning to face the family grave again, he sighed heavily. He wiped the back of his hand under his nose, attributing his sniffle to the rain, and shoved it back into his pocket. Unable to think of any fitting words to leave with his dead father, he simply turned away and waved his hand in the direction of the waiting workers.

“Go ahead and put him in. I'm done here.”

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ERMAHGERD! Yes, I'm reposting it. Yes, it's been heavily revised (in parts). Yes, I'm actually almost finished with it. I plan to update roughly once per week, give or take. NO, I will not disappear again (but please respect my privacy for why I did before, and accept my sincerest apologies - I am very sorry). Thank you, and I hope you enjoy.