InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Perhaps ❯ Perhaps ( Chapter 1 )

[ A - All Readers ]

Disclaimer: Sesshoumaru, Rin and all characters from the manga and anime, Inuyasha, are owned by Rumiko Takahashi and the many various publishing and television companies who produce the show and the manga. I do this for fun, not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended by this work.

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Summary: Sesshoumaru briefly ponders the rain and the little girl who follows him.
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(A/N: I also have this story posted on www.moonlight-flower.com)

Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama | Type: Vignette | Uploaded On: 10.02.2007 | Updated On: 10.02.2007 | Pages: 1 | Words: 655 | Visits: 439 | Status: Completed

I have never understood why people hate the rain.

Rain is naught but water. Without it, all things would die.

So why do people hate the rain?

Perhaps they grey clouds sadden them. Perhaps the thunder and lightning frighten them.

Perhaps it is inconvenient, an interference to their plans for the day.

Perhaps they as children were conditioned to hate it. Children are conditioned to hate many things, their blank slated tainted by the prejudices of others.

Or perhaps, like me, they don't.

Perhaps they enjoy the rhythmic patter as raindrops fall on the ground, on the roof, on the trees. Perhaps they too enjoy the fresh smell of the air as it is cleansed by the cascade of water falling from the clouds. Perhaps they too are fascinated by the power of nature as they watch the lightning crash and hear the thunder rumble.

Perhaps I am not alone-- a nice sentiment to be sure.

The little one, this strange girl who has taken to following me, loves the rain. She plays in it. She is revitalized by it, as if she too were one of the flowers it fed. She does not fear it like many of the others.

She does not fear many things.

She does not fear me.

Perhaps she has no reason to. Perhaps I have gone soft.

I doubt it.

Perhaps instead, she simply understands. Perhaps she knows all too well, what it is to walk through this world alone.

She is not alone anymore. She has me.

And I have her.

Perhaps I am not alone.

Perhaps . . .