InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Remnants of a Fairytale ❯ Remnants of a Fairytale ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: xXxMirokuisMinexXx
When the need for retribution is all that keeps your life flame burning, and when all the right things happen at the wrong time. When life is shattered. "If you regret, your life will be missed." she said walking out. "Do as you preach miko,"

Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Angst | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 12.10.2005 | Pages: 7 | Words: 11.9K | Visits: 353 | Status: Work In Progress

Authors' Notes: What to say…Hm there is a lot I do need to say. This is by no means the entire story, yet it is only going to be a one chapter story, or so I plan. So lack of better terms this is a preliminary story of sorts. I haven't even fully decided on a title for it. So if I do delete this version and rename it and ext. I will send an e-mail to anyone who reviewed, and left e-mails or are signed. Well this goes more to Single Spark Members (Even though I cannot yet post it there due to the bugs on the site) I know the fairytale sections are very reminiscent of Resmirandas' “Fugue” but I had not yet read her story when I started this. So just so y'all are aware. PLEASE point out any spelling grammatical etc errors to me for when I post the final version. I really appreciate it. Most importantly I need to know what you think of this.

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Remnants of a Fairytale
By: MirokuisMine
Do you ever think back to this one time when you were really happy? And for a moment you are filled with the joy at the very thought of the memory, but then that moment passes and you are filled with an emptiness.
Me

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A lone man stood on the side of a grassy hill, the sun just rising to kiss the sky, as his blank gaze fell on a polished rock, with weeds sprouting up around it. Almost completely taking it over, threating to smother it.
It seemed like just yesterday, he bemused to himself while running a hand through his long silken hair, but it was so long ago.
It was so strange that out of everything in his life, she was the most vivid memory, no matter how old.
A radiant spark, in a world of dark, his lips twisted into a sad smile though that flame wavered and almost went out more than once.
He sighed, Once Upon a Time, he mused to himself, there was a lost priestess.
He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply the scent of the forest. Probably some of the last of it not yet torn down and settled.
What will happen, he looked down at the centuries old stone, what will happen to you when this haven is settled? Will you bepaved over, with out remorse? His brow creased in contemplation. What will happen to the memory of you, miko? Kagome the broken priestess.
He opened his eyes as he thought back to his first significant memory he had of the miko.
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The ground was damp beneath his feet. He could hear the squish of his shoes pressing down into the sodden earth. The ground soaked with a shower of blood. Blood that was all too familiar too him.
He scanned the area with his eyes. Hundreds upon hundreds of dead youkai corpses lay about it, their scent already rank from baking in a full days sun. He subconsciously wrinkled his nose up in disgust. Flies buzzed around noisily, landing on all the different corpses, worms probably already feasted on the quickly decaying flesh.
But none of these demons where his concern. They weren't what he was looking for.
He walked through the sea of dead bodies, stopping momentarily to gaze down at the dead body of a demoness, face first into the dirt. She was the first female he had come across while mulling through the corpses.
He felt as if he was becoming a necrophiliac.
He leaned closer to examine her, noting the arrow protruding from her back, reeling back suddenly, not only from the scent of death, but the rancor stench of Naraku. He glared down at the body, kicking it in the side to flip it over.
Empty crimson orbs stared blankly up at him, from a paler than appropriate face.
He contemplated over the smell of the woman, as he watched a roach crawl from her gaping mouth.
He couldn't help but wonder what her connection was to Naraku. He mentally shook himself. This is not why I am here.
He turned from her body and continued walking through the sea of death, stopping every now and then to kick over a body and examine it closer.
“I know I smell it.” He said in frustration, “I know I smell Inu Yasha's blood.” He felt there was no way his acute nose could be mistaken.
He continued to walk gracefully through the slaughter yard, stepping smoothly over dead bodies, he showed no remorse. He had business to see too. This was business. His eyes took another look over of the area, noticing something off to the side of it, he began pacing towards the before mentioned it, now discerning it as a crater in the earths surface.
He peered into it curiously, bending forward picking up some of the soil and holding it to his nose. Inu Yasha. He dropped the dirt, stood, stepped back, and looked dumbly into the crater. The scent had been so faint and then it just dissapeared.
This gets me no where. I still know nothing. He sighed and looked about the area from where he now stood, about to make his leave into the forest, when he saw an appendage poking out from behind a nearby boulder.
This is all very odd. He thought dully to himself as he walked around the boulder to look at the body that lay there.
He surveyed his brother's wench. It took him a good few minutes to recognize her. It had been so long since he had last encountered his brother and his little bevy, and the girl, woman, had changed considerably. He looked at her almost nude form, what he guessed used to be a furisube, hung from her body in shreds. He could not discern its original color. It was too stained with the crimson of her blood. Like the demoness of before, an arrow protruded from her chest, but what he found more peculiar, was that in her hands a bow lay, while an empty quiver was just a few feet off.
She smelled of salt along with the scent of her blood, and upon closer examination he could plainly see the tear streaks running down her face. He noted her scent wasn't as rank as every other creatures' in the immediate area. She is either alive, or lived longer than the rest.
He kicked her experimentally in the side, before focusing in on her form with his ears. He heard no heartbeat. So she is dead. Pity. She could've told me what happened to the half-breed. He shed no tears, he felt no remorse, and there was not a string in his heart pulled, as he turned fully intent on leaving her body there to rot, until there was a pulse at his waste.
Abashed golden eyes looked down at the sword on his hip.
“Tenseaiga?” He questioned cryptically.
It pulsed again, stronger this time. It tugged at his hip towards the girl. He turned, slightly following the swords direction.
“What is the meaning of this? You can't really expect me to resurrect the wench.” He looked at it accusingly.
In response the sword only pulsed stronger and faster.
The sound of metal grating metal was heard, as he drew the sword from its' sheath. He looked at the cool, glossy surface of the sword and then to the girl.
“I don't agree with this,” His eyes lingered on her body, limbs sprawled out at impossible angles, the arrow protruding ugly from her chest.
But if I resurrect the filth, I can ask of the hanyou, and if she is a burden I can kill her again.
He nodded his head in his decision; he leaned forward to first pluck the arrow from her chest, before straightening himself, and swiping across the limp body.
He watched in awe as the gremlins of the underworld disintegrated in front of his eyes.
The only other time he had ever witnessed this, was with Rin. Rin, he sighed mentally. It had been a few months now since he had sent her off to live with a human family residing in a village in his territory. She had grown too old, and he had deduced it was best for her to be around mortals, so she could live a normal life.
He found it annoyed him to no end, that he missed the girl.
But that wasn't pertent at the moment. The girl before him was stirring.
“Why?” Her coarse voice flew to his ears in a grating sound.
He stared stolid down at her, as eyes fluttered open to stare at him.
“Why?”
He continued to stare blankly at her.
“Why Sesshomaru?”
He growled, she was starting to aggravate himand she had been alive for onlya matter of minutes.
“Why what, wench?” Sesshomaru ground out at her, his eyes slanted into slits at her.
“Why!”
Well that narrows it down a lot. He mentally rolled his eyes.
“It'd be wise wench for you to calm yourself,” He stood straighter and looked down at her with indifference.
She openly guffawed at him, rolling her cerulean eyes as she stood herself up.
He could hear every bone in her body pop and protest.
“That is not wise wench,” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Indeed,” She spoke evenly to him.
He was amazed by the girls' reaction to everything thus far. She had not cried she had not broken down; she hadn't gone to covering herself upon realizing her clothes were just random stitches on her flesh, hadn't lain on the ground and wallowed in self-pity, though in her cerulean orbs he could see the loss.
He stared at her eyes studying them closer. They weren't as open as they had been a few years back. They weren't as innocent. He had the impression they had born witness to too many things to be innocent any longer.
Sesshomaru watched as Kagome limped to the crater.
“Wench what happened to my brother,” He raised an eyebrow at her back.
“Gone,”
“You are vague. Elaborate, now.” He growled out at her.
She looked at him over her shoulder.
“Or what Sesshomaru? You will send me back to my death?” He grimaced in his mind. That was not the reaction I expected.
He opened his mouth to further threaten her when she cut him off, “He descended into hell,” She motioned with her hand to the crater, “with Kikyou.” He watched her eyes fall to the ground again as they took on a far off look.
He cursed the idiot Halfling. At least the family blemish is gone.
Then he was struck by something.
No tears?
“Does this not bother you?” He truly was curious.
She gave him a sad smile, if you could call it that. “I knew it would happen. I just never expected it to be so soon.” She sat down on the grass. “He told me about a month ago that he chose Kikyou,” She sighed and looked up at the taiyoukai. “Did you know Sesshomaru that I come from the future?”
He quirked an eyebrow at her she had gone insane under all the stress of the death of his brother.
“Oh don't believe me if you don't want to,” She leaned back on her palms looking up at the sky, “But it's true. Five hundred years roughly. Didn't you ever wonder about my odd clothes I used to wear? It's because they are from the future,” She said it all so matter of factly that she planted a seed of belief in him.
“Then why don't you wear that garb anymore wench?” He asked motioning to her `clothes'. He was finding it quite disturbing that she wasn't trying to cover her current state of undress.
Her eyes flashed darkly. “I travel through a well. That very same well was destroyed.”
He nodded satisfied with the answer about to ask her something else when she cut him off.
“Inu Yasha destroyed it when he told me he chose Kikyou over me. I suppose he was scared. ScaredI would leave in rage and never come back. I have a family on the other side of that well,” She stretched her body out a bit more across the grass looking up at Sesshomaru.
“You know I used to think that, too really live you had to give up your life,” deep eyes turned up to gaze at him, “but I know now that, that's not true. People live for themselves. Too often with only themselves in mind.”
What the Devil is a matter with the woman?
He looked down at her solemnly, “Elaborate wench,”
She sat up, timidly placing her palms into the dirt to prop herself up, “Just what I said. We are selfish.” Her eyes turned toward the sky.
“Prey-tell who we mat entail,” She was confusing the hell out of him. She had just returned from death and now was speaking to him in such a manner. Where was the depression? Anything! Even the naïve girl she had been, would be better expected than this.
“We; me, Inu Yasha, Kikyou, Miroku, Sango, you,” her somber eyes drifted up to his, “We. Everyone.” Her eyes returned to gazing into the brilliant blue sky. Like she was searching it for some answer.
After a moment she sighed and pushed herself up, with obvious strain, limping past him as she retrieved her bow, quiver, and then kept walking forward into the thicket of trees.
Sesshomaru raised a quizzical eyebrow at her back. She was so different now, yet still the same.
“Where are you going wench?” He asked almost amused, as she continued walking not even glancing back to acknowledge him.
“To kill Naraku,” She kept her head held high as she continued limping.
There is no doubt now, he thought to himself, she has lost whatever there was of her sanity.
“Do you think this wise in your current state?”
“No,” The reply was smooth, breviloquent, and held no fear, it was actually frightening. He watched as she continued limping into the forest, until his ears picked up a light groan before she came collapsing to the earth.
Sesshomaru stared at her heaped up form for a moment, before turning on his heel and began walking away, when a slow pulse started. Immediately accusing eyes were sent to his sword Tenseiga…
He stopped in his tracks, it wasn't his sword. His brows drew together in wrinkles, at his confusion.
If it is not the sword then what? He looked over his shoulder at the girl, and couldn't help but feel a slight twinge in his chest.
It is the least I could do, he sighed at his lack of luck, seeing as my brother is dead, and there is no care giver present for the girl. He took even steps up to her body before roughly picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder, and departing for the Western Lands.

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Who knew I had a conscious he kneeled down to look evenly at the stone, his nose wrinkling in disgust at all the weeds.
"How is it your chosen weapon, are arrows, yet the was how you fell to death," Sesshomaru watched her as she tried her new crutch for the first time, gently placing her bandaged leg to the hard floor beside her bed she resided in, while inside his castle.
She seemed to be ignoring him, fretting her bottom lip in concentration, "Because Kikyou, my incarnation, shot me down, and as I died she pulled Inu Yasha into Hell with her," She was stoic. The pain she held, the pain that none of the healers could see or mend.
'In her last moments of life, she had been forced to watch her first love be drug into Hell, by her clay pot incarnation.'
"Oh well, though. What's done is done." She meekly smiled up at him as she gained her balance beside the bed. "Is it not?"
"Indeed, it would seem," Though he highly doubted she felt what she said.
He stood back up shaking his head. That is not acceptable. He began pulling at the aggravating weeds as he thought back at the girl.
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“You know Sesshomaru,” She stared out at the horizon, from her comfortable sitting position on the grassy hill, beneath a red Japanese maple, “I used to love fairytales when I was younger.”
Sesshomaru looked at her from the corner of his eyes. Her body reclining back on her elbows, her broken leg sticking out from her furisube wrapped in many cloths, and two firm pieces of wood on either side. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why he let her stay; when she had collapsed back in the forest he had had every intention of leaving her for worm food. Her conversation, he decided after a moment's deliberation. She said some of the most remarkable things. Au courant, brilliant things that someone her age shouldn't have lived through yet. Or maybe you pity her existence. There is nothing left for her.
“All those Once upon a time's, it was all so magical and romantic,” She rotated her good ankle around as she watched the sunset, “but it's much different when you live it,” she looked down at her hand at her side, “and when the ending is never really known.”
Only a fewweeks, he thought to himself, I've really known her, but a few weeks, and yet I know her so well you'd think it'd been years. He recalled how when he'd brought an unconscious human woman, barely dressed, into his palace gates, how the gossip had flown, and then thrice when discovered she was also a miko.
“All fairytales are supposed to have a happy ending,” She smiled up at him. A smile put to shame by what it used to be. “That's the magic and beauty of them, right?”
“I suppose,” He spoke quietly to her.
“Do you think this one will?” She sounded like she knew the answer as is.
“Quite possibly, I suppose.” Sesshomaru turned his head too look down into her face.
“Hm,” Was all she said as she looked yet again out at the horizon.
“Why is it, miko, that you still mourn your loses?” He questioned stolidly. “But you do not weep?”
Kagome smiled a small sad smile at him, “How can I cry when there are no tears left?” She sighed, “What is the point of crying, when you know no matter how many tears you shed that can't bring them back to you?”
“Them? You mean the rest of your bevy, too?” She had only told him little things about the whereabouts of the rest of the group never enough to really piece together into a story. “And why pretend to smile, when you have no joy left?”
In a moment even the fake smile fell.
“Because tears would be for me, and my smile is for those whom surround me. I don't want pity, the best way to avoid that is for people to believe I am happy.” Her eyes were level with his, deep with what she had learned over years, deep with sorrows unknown to most, deep with passion felt, deep with hopes and dreams so harshly crushed. Deep with afflictions unspoken.
His amber orbs stared blankly down at her, as he realized all of this. All of what she was. All of what was unknown to him. Pain. Life. Love.
“Once upon a time there was a life loving monk,” She started calmly taking a deep breathe, always a sign to him that she was about to recall something, as she turned her face to the sky, “He was cursed with a wind tunnel in his right hand. A curse passed on from his Grandfather, due to the malice of Naraku. Too the world he was known as the lecherous monk, with amazing spiritual power, and the amazing blessing of a life absorbing hole in his hand. Too his friends, he was known as the monk madly in love with a demon slayer, though he never really admitted it, whom would lie about some evil spirit to get us a good place to sleep, who loved to laugh even though he was constantly troubled, and who carried the burden of the life taking hole in his hand, one that would eventually take his own.
"This is how we come to the ending of the story known as Miroku; One day while I was gone off to the future, the group had just returned to the village on a bogus shard rumor. It was an average evening for the rag-tag group, full of lots of bickering, perverted antics, and punches. When suddenly Miroku stood,” She recalled the events as Sango had told her through bursts of sobs the next night. “Kagome! I never said it back! I never said…” She refocused her mind to the story she was telling, “And left the camp in a hurry. The demon slayer jumped up to follow her secret love in worry, worry that he was off to propose to some other woman, when she happened upon him in a clearing kneeled, holding his accursed hand, and chanting.
`Houshi-sama?'
`Leave Sango, now!'
`But wh-' She made a move towards him.
`Damn it Sango I said leave!' He turned too look at her blurry eyed over his shoulder.
She gasped as realization hit her, `No Miroku I can't!'
`You have to! Now damn it!' He screamed at her in aguish as the wind in the area started to pick up.`Sango, now…' His tears began to fall harder as he begged his only love to leave and let him die.
`Miroku,' She took involuntary steps back in her shock of the raw emotion in his voice.
`Promise me,' He bit his lip in a sudden spout of pain as the rip became larger in his hand. `Promise me as my last wish, that you will not allow yourself to be sucked in.'
She nodded at him tears pouring down her face as she began to turn away, she could not bare the site of her love being drug into his own palm.
`And Sango,' She turned back to him the shock apparent on her face at being called back. `I love you,' He smiled at her brilliantly throughout all the pain. Those were the last words ever heard from the monk known as Miroku, as he was sucked into his cursed palm the very next moment.”
Kagome let out a breath at the obvious effort she had put into declaiming her tale.
“No happy ending?” Sesshomaru spoke smoothly.
“In a way, yes there was,” the answer shocked Sesshomaru as his head whirled for him to look at the girl who was now forcing herself up into a standing position. “For the first time in his life he let the world know how the real Miroku was, how he felt, and what better way for one to die then as their true selves, and in love?”
“Indeed. What of the others?” He asked as he eyed her warily as she stood above him, balancing on her one good leg while stretching.
She took up her wooden staff, which served as a crutch. “Another day for those Fairytales, Sesshomaru.” She began hobbling off smiling that sad smileback at him, “Well are you coming lazy?”
“You are a peculiar wench,” He said to himself as he stood easily walking beside her.
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He smiled proud of himself, down at the weed free polished rock. It's the least I can do, after everything that you gave.
He sighed sitting down in front of it, legs crossed, his head resting in his palm. I wish you were here to tell me one of your fairytales. One of your deep insights.
`Why is it woman, that even though you carry such a large burden, that you do not allow your shoulders to droop with the weight?'
`Because Sesshomaru,' her sad face upturned to his, `if that burden wasn't there I wouldn't be who I am today,' she hobbled up in front of him, just a day off of her crutch and already pushing the leg, `plus there is always someone who has it worse than I do,' she was a few good feet in front of him, as she cast a solemn smile, `besides if not for all of that, you, Demon Lord of The Moonlit Lands, and I, Kagome Higurashi, of the Future, wouldn't be taking a walk through the forest.'
He waited until her back was fully too him before he let the tiniest of grins grace his face.
“You were some human,” Most humans would've cried in self-pity, but you took the little good that came from it. He titled his head in his palm, as he thought back on the first instant that he had ever really smiled, besides his childhood. My turning point. He rolled his eyes at himself. Actually, I suppose my turning point was the moment I met the woman. It was so odd, as he sat there and thought back on it. He had never felt different then, never felt the slow change taking place, but maybe that was her own magic. Her magic to change things, and make them sorrowfully beautiful, with words or with her soul.
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He walked down the winding corridors of his palace, out into the dimming sunlight. He seemed to glide past one side of the white stone walls, passing his guards on the way.
Where is the insufferable woman?
He heard light humming coming from deep inside the stalks of flowers. His ears pricked slightly as he followed the delicate and very feminine sound.
She was leaned over a large red hibiscus inspecting the petals carefully, dressed in a deep blue furisube, the long and elegant sleeves brushing the ground. Designs of cranes danced across the hems of the garment, as a lighter blue obi was tied about her waist.
Her eyes were glazed over, so it seemed she was recalling things in her mind, rather than actually scrutinizing the vibrant bloom.
He just stood there and watched her. He almost felt guilty at beholding the sight. Like watching something to Holy and perfect for his eyes, even though he knew that she was far from perfection.
That is a lie, he thought to himself. She held her own perfection, and it was stunning. Something he couldn't grasp, it would always slip between his claws.
For one of the first times, since childhood, he felt inadequate. There was no way this creature before him was mean for Earth, and the afflictions that came with being of the world. Yet, ironically, it was those very afflictions that had molded her into being so ethereal.
He would have been content to just observe her for the rest of the day, but she straightened out her back and tossed him a glance over her shoulder.
“Good afternoon Sesshomaru,” She smiled her broken smile.
“Evening would be more appropriate,” The sun would set in just a few hours.
“Is it?” She looked up at the sky, her eyes wide like she had never seen it before. “I guess I lost track of time in my musings,” She sighed as she began walking up to him, “Want to go for a walk?”
“That sounds enjoyable,” Kagome reached out, the long sleeve falling back to expose a delicate white wrist, which was connected to the hand that now held his limp one.
Sesshomaru found it rather peculiar that he was neither shocked, nor bothered by her actions. He walked a few steps behind her as she led him to the exact spot he had expected her too, the little hill with the lone Japanese Maple, that overlooked the forest and horizon, where the sun set.
Such an odd wench, he thought as he sped his step up, so he was walking even with her. His eyes fell on her as she continued to stare forward. Very odd, indeed.

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“My how time flies when you dwell on the past,” He drummed his fingers on the ground. No matter how much of the world he had seen, this spot was still the most beautiful. So many memories are tied to this spot.
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She was reclining beside him, staring out at the pink and orange hues of twilight. He had decided it was her favorite time of day.
“Sesshomaru?”
“Hm?”
“When will I be allowed to go after Naraku, again?” She looked up at him from the corners of her eyes.
“We will go when you're inferior human body is healed completely.” He saw her eyebrow rise.
“We, Sesshomaru?”
“Hm” You won't be alone again Kagome.
She looked up at the sky, looking more content than he had seen her since, well ever.
“Once Upon a Time,” her voice floated to his ears on the breathy whisper of the wind, “there was a lonely demon slayer,” her face took the look it always had when she recalled tales, or insights. Her eyes glazed, her lips parted, her voice became more like a harmony to a lovers ballad. “Who lost everyone she ever loved. From her entire family, to the one man she ever cared for. She had loved a perverted monk, who often grouped woman sporadically, though it was well known he only loved her. She was there as he died, watched as she could do nothing to save the love pf her life, as he fell victim to his hand. She heard his last words. Words that she had dreamt of hearing come from his lips to her, I love you.
The girl truly lived in her own world of depression and inner demons. She tried to hide the hurt, but when she thought no one was watching, she would gaze off into space solemnly, and the silent tears would fall, or her hands would go to her back, and lightly trace the scar that of her own blood had given her.” Kagome took a deep breathe, not to steady her emotions like she would have in the past, but too think of the next part of the Fairytale.
Sesshomaru was quickly finding new respect for the human race, in this one girl and the stories of her companions.
“Thus brings us to the end of the tale known as Sango; There came a day when we battled Naraku's hordes of demons. Everyone too preoccupied with their own battles to realize the brother and sister demons slayers disappear into the thick forest in a battle together. When we did arrive at the scene in the forest this is what had laid before our eyes;
`Free me sister,' Kohaku was obviously straining to stay in control of his own self. Keeping the monster of his possessed self at bay. His fading orbs stared up at his sister, who pinned him with her body and knees, and held a sword poised above his chest.
`Forgive me Kohaku,' Tears fell freely from those warm chocolate eyes as she thrust the sword deep into her own brothers' heart, before pulling it back out in a jerky motion. All watching could do nothing more than stand staring in awe.
`Forgive me everyone,' The words came out so rushed as she raised the sword to her chest.
`Forgive me God,' She was so quick with her thrust, not even the superior speed of Inu Yasha could beat the sword. She fell to her knees, those tear filled brown eyes staring straight out at me.
`He wasn't meant for this world' Blood trickled from her lips as she let out the mere whisper, before her face fell into the dirt.”
Kagome sighed. “I stayed up all that night trying to save her. Trying to save her and crying.” She put her head in her hands. “I used to think she could still be alive if I had just done something, instead of stand there like a fool in shock.” The old reminisces of pain in her eyes, but still no tears.
“Though if I had, I would have ruined her ending.”
Sesshomaru cocked an eyebrow.
“Her ending?” He questioned lightly.
“Though she acted so tough, she and her brother alike, were not meant for the life they lived. She just wanted to be free. She wasn't meant for the manacles of pain.” Kagome's eyes fell to the cool grass, as her fingers separated the blades.
“Kagome,” His voice trailed off. He hadn't a clue as to what to say.
Cerulean orbs, that held a spark so dim, stared up into his soul.
So much, his mind was chaos, so much I need to say. I want to say. But I don't know how. It was overpowering in his chest, that he, Sesshomaru, was afraid. Afraid that it would stop his very breath. It was so serene and quiet here on this hill, but it was pure cacophony in his ears.
“Find your own freedom,” he stood quickly and briskly took off in the direction of his castle.
These feelings were unwanted. This compassion that seared through his chest was not welcomed.

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He stood from where he had sat, circling the stone, and picking at the sporadically growing flowers.
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Sesshomaru was frantic the woman was no where to be found within his castle gates.
I specifically told her not to step off of the grounds without my accompaniment. He was seething but something baffled him; how could one silly, human miko get passed his guards? He highly doubted they would go against his orders and just allow her to saunter through the gates.
The demon lord was trying frantically to follow her light scent of lotus blossoms, and something else, something that was her own essence, but it was proving difficult now that her scent was laced throughout his entire castle. It was almost like she was part of it now. Meshed in with everything else of it.
His nose was trying to decipher what path to take, by where her scent was strongest, and most recent.
It all smelled so faint. She must've been missing for some time now. How could her absent presence go unnoticed for so long? Sesshomaru walked past stalks of young bamboo, when he came to one section of the castle wall that had thick passion flower vines growing up its side.
Something was amiss.
He approached the wall in attempts to figure out what exactly it was. The vines were clear signs that some had used them as a make shift ladder. Clever girl, he thought as he jumped over the high wall.
His feet landed softly upon the Earth floor of the opposite side of his castle gate. He instantly began walking down the path that would undoubtedly lead to her. So it was not surprising to him in the least, when he crested the small hill that she sat there, one blue kimono clad knee drawn to her chin.
“Why did you follow me?” Kagome was so beautifully nostalgic sitting there underneath the Japanese maple staring off into the horizon.
Why did I follow her? It posed a good question, though he decided dwelling on it would bring him no benefit.
“Why did you leave?” He countered instead.
“Why do people usually leave Sesshomaru?” Her eyes never wavered, never flicked over to him, this irked Sesshomaru to no end and he felt the undying need to bring those eyes to him.
“I assume different people have different reasons,” he spoke after a moments pause.
“No,” her voice was crisp and bitter like she had been crying, though this possibility he found highly unlikely. “People always leave for the same basic reason; to get away, or at least pretend like leaving will end the pain and bring forth the soothing relief of forgiveness.” She drew her bow shaped lips into a line.
“Kagome,” She closed her eyes. “Kagome!” Still they did not open. Something pinched in Sesshomarus' chest. Something unknown and unwanted, but still present. He had the urge to touch her. He had to touch her. Feel the warm skin and be sure the blood still was flowing beneath it. I must. His clawed hand reached out to her and in a blink of an eye he was on his knees firmly bringing her to his chest while shaking her with his body. “Feel again Kagome!” His couldn't control himself any longer, now that he had touched his skin, he had been set off. “Kagome! Please Kagome!” He felt something warm slide down his neck. He pulled back suddenly, looking into her deadpan eyes, that shined with very much alive tears.
“Kagome?” He began very unsure of everything. A feeling ran through his body from his chest to his brain, which he now clearly understood to be confusion. Unease and hot liquid emotion settled into the pit of his stomach. “What is wrong?”
“I am tired,” she raised empty orbs to him, “I am tired, and I am only nineteen.” She was surprised she even recalled her age. There had been no need for birthdays in the Feudal Era. Oh no, no, only thing needed in the Feudal Era seemed to be heartache and jewel shards.
Sesshomaru found it hard to swallow and pressed her up against his body,
“Once Upon a Time, there was an orphaned kitsune,” he felt her eyelashes brush his collarbone, signaling the closing of her eyes, “He was a lively little prankster with a spark for life, despite his losses. Though he was young, he wanted retribution for his parents' unjust murder. Fighting was not the life intended for such a soul,” Sesshomarus' hand instinctively clutched the enormous soul living in this petite girls body at those particular words. “Thus brings us to the end of this tale: it was an ugly wet dark day. A terrible omen, especially after our past misfortunes. We paid no heed. We were depressed and miserable, just the three of us. We would not stop, too driven by our craving for revenge. It burned from the pits of our stomachs to our swollen bloodshot eyes. He tried so hard to courageous, tried so hard to be what he thought I wanted him to be, when I just wanted him to be the child he was meant to be.
“I had fallen from a particularly nasty tentacle that Naraku had shot out at me, while another stopped a few feet from me, pausing menacingly above my heart. Just as it shot out to finish me, Shippou jumped out in front of it, facing me. Tears filled his eyes as I watched the tentacle shoot through his young, innocent chest, his last words will burn in me forever: `I let one of my mothers die. I won't let another.' So was the end of the little kitsune known as Shippou”
Sesshomaru looked out at his distant castle, while he held this fragile human priestess in his arms. This beautifully fragile priestess in his arms.
Too much flowed through his body. Too many thoughts and too many emotions.
Then he felt hot tears roll down his neck and felt the uncharacteristic urge to sigh when a though dawned on him, that was absolutely acting remarkably uncharacteristically. He fully blamed the being that he held tightly in his arms.
He searched for resentment, called for it, wanted it, but it could not be found. He couldn't resent this woman, it was impossible for him.
Weren't these feelings the reason I removed Rin from my presence?
It would almost secure his fate to be forced to feel these emotions, though he quickly pushed the notion aside for fear if it was dwelled upon for too long it would become fact.
“I'm sorry,” She breathed out, her voice light as a feather and as cracked as the Shikon no Tama. His eyes snapped to her, and stared into dark tresses. Before he could ask she elaborated. “I'm sorry for feeling. I thought I was beyond this weakness by now. Thought I'd never shed another pathetic tear.” She pushed off of him abruptly and walked past him to the castle never turning back, as he kneeled there as she had left him, his arm dangling limply.
Is this Earth or is it Hell…or perhaps, have I stumbled across Heaven?
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Authors' Notes: Let me know what you think and this is it for now.
Song