InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Sword Envy ❯ Sword Envy ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
 
 
Sword Envy
 
 
Sesshoumaru had it bad. Even before he had laid eyes on Inuyasha's sword, he had desired it. The weapon, so powerful, so majestic, had enchanted him from the start. He used to curse his father for blessing Inuyasha with such a remarkable gift, while leaving him with an inferior imitation. Though he was far more experienced wielding his blade than Inuyasha was, his own sword was diminutive by comparison. The short, skinny weapon wasn't going to impress anybody.
 
And he thought he had let go of his sword envy, until that fateful evening two weeks ago. The night he had allowed Rin to bathe in a hot spring. The night he had accidently caught Inuyasha in the adjacent pool. The hanyou was polishing his immaculate sword, running his hands lovingly along the smooth surface, a look of pure pleasure marking his features. Sesshoumaru had sensed the gratification, the utter sense of bliss hanging in the air when his task was completed, and it irked him to no end. Looking down, he was painfully reminded of his own pitiful, miniature version of Inuyasha's sword. Fortunately for his pride, the hanyou had been too distracted to notice his stealthy approach or hasty departure.
 
Still, he was relieved to note that he did not desire Inuyasha's sword. There was no way to get it, anyway. He just wished his was more like that of the not-so-pitiful hanyou, who seemed to have all the luck in the world.
 
 
Unbeknownst to the stoic youkai, Miroku also had it bad. He probably saw more of Inuyasha's sword than anybody else. He didn't stare; that would be rude. But he couldn't constantly avoid looking at it, either. Occasionally, he would catch himself admiring it, the power he could detect humming just below the surface. His own staff matched the length of Inuyasha's sword, but was thin and frail-looking by comparison. It wasn't going to impress anybody, even if he used his legendary charm beforehand. He possessed way more charm than the dense hanyou, and perhaps that was why he used it so much, to even the playing field. But in the end it didn't matter; the lucky hanyou's weapon was far more impressive than his, end of story.
 
 
Though he hid it well, Koga also had a bad case of sword envy. He had never seen Inuyasha's sword in its large, majestic form, but Kagome's body language told him all he needed to know about it. Recently, whenever he would run up to her and offer to take her away from the dirty hanyou, her face would light up, and she would get that far-away look in her eyes. She would smile wistfully, as if remembering something amazing, indescribably wonderful. Then she would come back to herself, and blush prettily while covering her heated cheeks with her hands. And her scent! If she ever smelled like that for him, he would be out of his clothes before she could even blink.
 
Of course, by that point Inuyasha intervened, and Koga would retreat with his tail between his legs. How was he supposed to compete with that, anyway? Kagome made it perfectly clear how marvelous Inuyasha's sword was. Hell, he had never even pulled his out, let alone used it on anything. And he'd be lying if he said there wasn't a good reason for that… Perhaps that was why he teased Inuyasha so much, belittled him, tried to make him feel like less of a man. Because in reality, the truth was just the opposite.
 
In the end, the only person who actually liked Inuyasha's sword was Kagome. No, scratch that; she didn't like it. She loved it.
 
 
A/N - And there you have it; my first attempt at a comedy! It's a radical departure from what I normally write, but I think all the innuendo came out well. Let me know what you think.