InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Temporal Sequence ❯ Chapter 15

Temporal Sequence

 

Chapter 15:

 

xxx

 

After the first time he saw her, he felt compelled to see her again.

 

The next day, after a futile attempt to sleep and undergoing Kazuma's overbearing lessons, he set out to the human village to seek her out, feeling suddenly rejuvenated despite his restlessness. Something had finally triggered intrigue within his tedious life and since a delectable scent was attached to it, he was more than willing to thoroughly explore this new phenomena.

 

He found her scent easily among all the other more bland ones and followed it to the outskirts of the village in a heavily wooded area. He heard sweet feminine laughter as a female voice, unbeknownst to him, began counting with loud and obvious intent.

 

They were playing a game.

 

He stepped behind a tree when he heard light footsteps echo softly through the forest. He inhaled deeply, all the while listening to her heart race with excited thrums as she played. She jogged past his post and he immediately followed, stalking her in between the trees, completely unnoticed.

 

It made his blood sing.

 

He heard the other girl yell in warning that time was up and he made his move, though a small voice in the back of his mind beckoned him to watch her longer. He leapt over her body and landed silently in front of her, her hurried strides causing her to run right into him.

 

She froze with a gasp.

 

“M-my…lord,” she said quietly, surprise and fear vying for dominance.

 

He enveloped her in his arms, a shocked yelp tumbling from her mouth.

 

“Shhhh,” he cooed.

 

He leapt up into a tree, her arms instinctively winding around his neck as she pressed her body to his, searching for some semblance of security. When he found his footing, he realized she was refusing to look at him. He didn't know if it was from a fear of heights or youkai, though he suspected the latter. He hooked his finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him. He searched her eyes for a moment, marveling at how dark they were, a beautiful harmony in accordance with her extraordinarily dark hair. He found he liked the combination.

 

He sensed her companion entering the forest then. He smirked a little and turned her around in his arms so she could watch her friend's useless seeking. He leaned over her, her heart racing even harder, and whispered into her ear.

 

“She'll never find you.”

 

He could hear every shaky breath she took, her body near convulsions with trepidation when he decided to take off into the skies. She clung to him, her scent drowning out all else as he introduced her to his world—a world where the ground was optional and the sky endless, where the wind was envious and the night was paradise. She eventually relaxed and he swam in her wonderment and drank in her joy.

 

After that, he decided he hadn't had enough.

 

He saw her nearly every other day, his affection broadening and his desire blossoming. It was becoming rather unbearable by the time he first stole her lips under the stars. After a few months of regular visits, Hitomi left to see a sick relative and was gone for several consecutive days. He hated her absence and couldn't contain himself when she returned. He had crept through her window, a simple cloth, nearly sheer, separating him from his ultimate goal. He had wanted to taste her, badly.

 

His control slipped, ever so slightly, causing her to call him a monster, his reddened eyes and elongated fangs something she couldn't handle, but that didn't stop him from seeing her again. She rebuked him the next time he sought her and the time after that. The third time he refused to accept her absurdity and pinned her to a tree. She tried to deny him for the simple fact that he was youkai, but her body was too ripe for his touch to maintain her distance.

 

It became a monthly ritual. She would suddenly try to forsake him because he was youkai and he would force her into submission the following day. He found that their little game was enticing, if not out right desirable. There was something so erotic about a woman unable to fend off a hungry male, though she willed it so. He liked the fact that he caused such weakness in her.

 

She was an exotic beauty, touched by the gods' perfection, for everything she did was graced with her flawlessness. Her speech was eloquent, her gait wondrously feminine, her nature enticingly submissive, and her hands delicate and her neck slender. He thought himself in love, despite his uncle's objections.

 

Then…it all changed.

 

It was dusk the following day after another dispute about his blood and it was time to dominate her once again. He was thrilled to say the least. He found her taking a leisurely stroll through an open meadow flanked by trees. He had her back against one of those trees before she even drew a second breath.

 

“Sesshoumaru!” she squealed in surprise.

 

“Tell me, Hitomi,” he drew out languidly, “does my appearance disgust you?”

 

She turned away, her lovely, pale neck now open to his liking.

 

“Answer me,” he demanded, pressing her further into the rough bark.

 

“No.”

 

“Do my fangs frighten you?” he whispered dangerously, his fingertips dragging up her arms.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Do my claws make you wary?”

 

He traced a single claw up the column of her neck. She shivered.

 

“Y-yes,” she whispered in a broken breath.

 

“Do you despise my youkai blood?”

 

“Yes.” She turned her neck farther downward, his head immediately following her movement to linger above her ear as he pressed his body taut against hers.

 

“Then why do you say you love my eyes? They label me as youkai.” He grasped her wrists harshly and lifted her arms above her head, one hand holding them in place as though she was chained to a dungeon wall. “Why do you ask me to take to the skies when you embrace me? That is a youkai ability, Hitomi.”

 

“I-I don't know.”

 

“Why does you body call for me if you loathe me so?” he asked huskily, his tongue tracing the shell of her ear. She moaned and he devoured her neck, her body arching into him as her hands fought against their entrapment. He was unrelenting in his torture and she begged for more, her soft pants enough to drive him to the edge of madness.

 

He released her hands, which found their way into his hair with haste, and he ran his hands down her sides and over her hips until his fingers found her sash. It found the ground the moment he found her lips.

 

He had finally pushed her to her limits with his not-so-innocent and demandingly persistent ministrations. Today was the day he'd finally have her.

 

Before another thought could even manifest itself within his mind, he sensed someone lingering at the crest of the forest. He tore his lips away from their happy residence and swiveled his head around sharply.

 

It was Hitomi's friend, the one who had never found her that day he embarked upon uncharted waters. The girl was shaking and looked rather disturbed, then suddenly she turned on her heel and darted back into the depths of the forest.

 

“Sakura,” Hitomi whispered. “I have to go after her.”

 

“Why?” he murmured against her ear as he pulled her flush against him once more, his nose brushing across her cheek.

 

“She'll tell!” she exclaimed worriedly as she fought against the weight bearing down on her.

 

“Stay with me,” he whispered as he pulled her even closer, his tongue trailing along her jaw line.

 

“No.”

 

She pushed again and he obliged her, watching her as she ran into the woods toward her friend and away from him, her purple obi floating behind her. He went home then, a terrible ache lingering in the pit of his stomach.

 

The following night he learned that Sakura did indeed spill their secret—right into the lap of Hitomi's father.

 

He located her at the edge of the forest bordering her village; the exact spot he had found her after their initial meeting. She was harder to find that night since her natural scent was hidden under a thick blanket of lavender-scented oil. He briefly wondered why she even bothered with such trivial nonsense since she was well aware of his obsession with her natural scent.

 

He approached her and quickly realized she had been waiting for him.

 

“I go to see the matchmaker on the morrow,” she said before he even reached her.

 

He didn't really know what to say, but he wasn't about to let her go without a fight.

 

“No.”

 

“I have to. This was never meant to be, Sesshoumaru. It was fun, but I'm grown now and so I must accept my responsibilities with integrity.”

 

Why would she brush him off so easily? Perhaps she was simply wishing to be dominated again. She spoke before he made move to corner her.

 

“You are so alluring and your inhumanity is so interesting,” she said as though it was of no importance at all. He didn't like this nonchalant attitude of hers. “But it was a simple curiosity, nothing more.”

 

“Why are you saying this?” He was growing angry—he could feel the hot blood trickling into his veins from a heated heart.

 

“Sakura told my father about you and he's ending this here and now.”

 

So, she wasn't tossing him aside? He wouldn't let an irrational fear of her own father stand in the way.

 

“Tell him this will not end and that if he has a problem with it, then he needs to speak with me. I promise you that your father will not deny my wishes.” He reached for her, but she sidestepped his advance. What the hell was going on?

 

“This strange obsession of mine should have ended right when it started, but I was weak. So pathetic I had become that I actually craved the touch of a monster. A beautiful monster you may be, but I refuse to deny my own humanity and succumb to temptation. Evil and destruction are all you know and I cannot be a part of something so vile.”

 

She should know by now that her prejudices were unfounded. She turned from him as though to walk away from her words like they had never been uttered, but they had…

 

He grabbed her arm and turned her around, fury acting as a mask over his eyes.

 

“You mean to tell me that you've never felt anything for me?”

 

“If you exclude lust, then no.”

 

“How could you do this to me, knowing that I care for you?”

 

“Don't be like this, Sesshoumaru. Surely you have mirrors in your home. You know exactly what I mean.”

 

She was being honest with him… He detected no lies spilling from her lips. His blood was now rushing through his veins with such ferocity that his head was pounding in tune with the thrum of the hurriedly pumping fluid. He didn't know how to handle this—he didn't want to handle this.

 

“I never thought a youkai could possess such beauty. The art of seduction is your true gift and I nearly fell prey to your depraved game.”

 

“How dare you place blame on me for your desires. I forced nothing on you!”

 

“Oh, really?” she asked sardonically. “I recall many times you had me pinned against a tree. I don't remember having a choice in the matter.”

 

She was twisting everything and making his natural desires out to be fiendish ploys. He was losing his cool, fast.

 

“I don't remember you fighting me or asking me to stop. I recall you moaning my name and begging for my attention,” he whispered lowly as he caught her hands within his. “I could sate your curiosity here and now, Hitomi. I could make you take back your malicious words. I could make you forget your own name while mine is the only word your tongue could conjure.” He pulled her hands behind her back and held them tightly as he closed the gap between their bodies.

 

“Does it enrage you to know that another defenseless girl won't fall into your trap?”

 

“Trap? How foolish. You should feel honored, girl. This Sesshoumaru has yet to indulge himself with a woman's body, much less deflower one. Was it your father that put this nonsense into your head?”

 

“Let go of me!” she demanded.

 

She had never been so adamant about him keeping his distance before.

 

He released her hands, confusion and anger swirling within his head, throwing his balance off-kilter along with his slipping sanity. He didn't know what to make of this situation, but the need to destroy something was rapidly climbing up his list of priorities.

 

Then he heard a twig snap and his eyes darted to the trees. He sensed them all around, having not noticed sooner since he was so distracted, and it suddenly dawned on him that her excessive oil application had served a devious purpose.

 

“What are you doing?” he ground out between clenched fangs, Kazuma's words flooding his mind as his mistake manifested itself in the form of several human men.

 

She gasped and stepped away from him when a few armed men darted out of the forest yelling obscenities at him.

 

“Get away from her, demon!”

 

An arrow whizzed toward him and he sidestepped it with ease. Red blurred within his vision and before he realized that blind fury had gripped him, nearly a dozen men laid mutilated on the ground.

 

Hitomi whimpered as his eyes soaked in the ungodly amount of blood. They had deserved to die; they had attacked first with the intent to kill. But she looked…traumatized.

 

“Why?” he asked as he took a step toward her, his anger dulled by unparalleled hurt and the overpowering stench of blood. She looked down at the ground, her face paler than usual as she spoke with quivering lips.

 

“The ground bleeds where you step foot on it.”

 

He looked down at his wet boots and noticed the blood being forcibly coaxed from the earth by his weight. He could hardly even recall how he killed them. He was angry and confused and he just…he just needed something to suffer as he did.

 

She was crying and out of habit he reached for her. She turned and ran and it was all over. He felt sick inside, feeling as though he had proven her judgements right, though he knew her father had planned this little escapade in advance.

 

But her father hadn't forced her to not care for him. She had done that on her own, leaving him to suffer by himself, further testifying her indifference toward him.

 

She just liked the way he looked and the way he touched her—nothing more. She was a shallow bitch never worthy of his attention from the start. His anger resurfaced and he considered killing her father for his premeditated plot, but decided against it. Men had died for his folly, for a weak human should not to challenge a taiyoukai.

 

So he left with a mind crowded by rage and a sizable gap lingering in his heart. He vowed never to lay eyes on that pathetic human woman again, but as fate would have it, he'd see her two more times before he could finally be rid of her.

 

A year later, he caught word of her marriage ceremony. Out of sadistic curiosity he went to the village in the hopes that she'd be wedding some older, sickly looking male that looked as weak as his race was ordained to be. A shallow wench would deserve such.

 

He hid among some trees as he watched the small yet elaborate ceremony.

 

The man was older, at least by a decade he presumed, and he was ungodly thin and relatively short. He had a pleasant face, however, and an average scent. There was nothing special about the man in the least, which pleased Sesshoumaru, but there was nothing too damaging about him either, leaving Sesshoumaru slightly miffed. He hoped the man turned out to be a bastard who took pleasure in mistreating his wife.

 

He then sensed Kazuma behind him. He was a bit surprised that his uncle had followed him and prayed to the gods that Kazuma didn't think him weak minded for watching her wedding.

 

“What?” he snapped, not minding his tone whatsoever. Kazuma ignored the insult and spared Sesshoumaru a short glance before turning his attention to the ceremony. This was the first time Kazuma had lain eyes on Hitomi.

 

“I don't understand why you and your father find them so beautiful. She's rather plain in my opinion,” he said nonchalantly.

 

“She is nothing to me.”

 

“Your hatred of them has grown. Don't let one foolish woman cloud your judgement. Despite what I say at times, they all aren't bad.”

 

“Why say this to me now? You were right all along. She was undeserving of me and she did, in fact, curse the very ground I walk upon. Aren't you pleased with your own clairvoyance?”

 

He was frustrated beyond compare and the burning in his veins was increasing exponentially. As though sensing his internal distress, Kazuma placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly in hopes to reassure him. It didn't work. He wanted her to suffer as he had, but she wasn't. She looked…happy. He found her state of contentment disturbing and wanted to slash that smile off her ridiculously pretty face.

 

Kazuma spoke before he had a chance to thoroughly entertain that last notion.

 

“Time alleviates all hurt. And time is favorable to you, but not to her. Trust me, it's better this way.”

 

He couldn't look at him, choosing instead to watch the tipped flasks of sake, his heart burning with its significance—its finalization. Then he watched them kiss and she smiled, dark eyes sparkling. He turned away then, his seared heart left to simmer until its death.

 

He would see her one last time. Except this time, things were different.

 

He now had a bastard hanyou brother and a dead father. He was the Inu no Taishou and since the title was inherited while he was still so young, though he looked full-grown, taiyoukai from all around Japan searched him out in the hopes to destroy him and take what was rightfully his.

 

A scout brought word to him that a bull taiyoukai was approaching the nearby human village, yelling his challenge to the new Inu no Taishou. Three had already come and died, their heads staked and posted along the citadel wall in warning for those foolish enough to initiate a challenge. But another came and certainly more would come, for youkai always seemed to think they were indestructible. Immortality was a term used too loosely among his kind; they could in fact die.

 

Kazuma followed him to the village for observation purposes only. Since he was considered young among youkai, his uncle continued taking care of the day-to-day activities of the province. He didn't know what he'd do without Kazuma's support.

 

A loud bang echoed throughout the forest and screams were heard accompanying all the other myriad of deafening noises. Within a few moments, Sesshoumaru and Kazuma arrived in the village square where countless humans ran in fright.

 

Sesshoumaru assessed his opponent quickly as Kazuma had taught him through his many lessons. The bull youkai was enormous and brute strength was his forte, meaning Sesshoumaru would most likely have to outwit the muscle-bound demon. Bull youkai were also arrogant and quick to anger, quite like an inuyoukai, but their cool wore thin much faster, their emotions lessening their effectiveness. Since this one was a taiyoukai, he must have other specialized abilities making him superior to his peers. Being the breed he was, Sesshoumaru assumed it was most likely an elemental power. He would have to wait and see.

 

He stepped forward and the ghastly looking creature turned to him, the scents of destruction clinging to his rugged body. He was tall as well as thick, ivory horns protruding outward from his forehead with pink eyes and long, black hair fastened in a topknot. His face was wide and his nose flat and broad with a gold ring pierced through his nostrils. Red dots lined his cheekbones and a huge hammer-like weapon, longer than the bull's full height, was clenched within his left hand. He had hoofed feet that made him look all the more mystical and intimidating.

 

Sesshoumaru was far from scared.

 

“Youkai,” he called authoritatively. “Your presence here is unwanted, so I suggest you leave immediately before something terrible befalls you.”

 

The bull snorted, a mist of mucus spraying from his flared nostrils.

 

“I am Tsuimaru,” he said in a deep, thunderous voice, “Great Taiyoukai of the northern islands of Japan, of which my ancestors created by merely stepping foot on this land that could not sustain their awesome power!” He lifted his face to the sky and extended his arms as an ear-piercing war cry erupted from the giant's lungs.

 

He heard Kazuma snicker behind him. This youkai was an idiot, but at least that meant he'd outsmart him easily, thus ending this charade quickly.

 

“What do you want, little man?” the bull asked mockingly. “I seek the new Inu no Taishou, son of the great and feared inu-taiyoukai that came before him. Tell me where I will find him.”

 

“I am Sesshoumaru, the one of whom you speak,” he said flatly, not at all impressed by Tsuimaru's ridiculous monologue. He was much more irritating than the last three.

 

“Impossible! They say he is larger than a tree and as green as the poison within his veins!” Kazuma chuckled lightly, then cleared his throat in an attempt to stifle his oncoming laughter. Sesshoumaru sighed; he was already tired of this nonsense.

 

“You mean this?” he asked as he darted forward so fast that his words were lost to the wind. He released his dokkasou when he was within range, but the bull dodged it, apparently faster than he appeared.

 

“Ha! So you are he!” He landed with a loud thud and raised his weapon over his head and threw it into the ground with both hands. Sesshoumaru leapt upward before impact, the weapon's power pulsing within the earth. A menacing vibration reverberated through the land and he heard it suck back within itself and explode like a collapsed vortex. The result was instant as the earth moaned and spewed into the air, the intense shockwave clearing the area within a twenty-foot radius.

 

Sound was his power, Sesshoumaru realized as he returned to the ground. Before the weapon could be raised again he charged his opponent quicker than the youkai could react, punching him in the gut while releasing his acid simultaneously. The effect was instant as the bull howled and grasped his belly as he skidded backwards several feet. Had he been any smaller, he would have been airborne.

 

“You will pay for that,” Tsuimaru growled as his eyes darkened a deep crimson.

 

Tsuimaru charged forward, his footfalls so heavy they created a stampede-like effect, resulting in smaller scale shockwaves barreling forward, causing Sesshoumaru to lose his center of balance. However, he still managed to duck once the bull swiped his weapon downward toward his face. Since the weapon was so large, it was nearly unmanageable in such a way, so Sesshoumaru used that opportunity to push his fist through the bull's wounded stomach. An agonized scream resounded, again causing vibrations to pulse through the air, manifesting physically into sharp waves of sound, inducing a painful echo within Sesshoumaru's head. He grunted as he fought off the inclination to cover his ears and pulled his hand back inside the bull's body. He released his poison as he thrust his claws upward, causing the exit wound on Tsuimaru's back to bleed profusely.

 

Tsuimaru then connected his foot with Sesshoumaru's collarbone and despite his smaller stature, Sesshoumaru remained on his feet as he dug his heels into the ground to slow the incredible momentum of one powerful kick. The bull wasted no time as he struck the earth again with his gargantuan hammer. Feeling slightly vexed over this new development, since he was still sliding across the ground, Sesshoumaru staked his katana into the dirt, finally halting his counterproductive movement while bracing himself against the onslaught of powerful waves. His ears were burning by the time the sound waves ceased rolling over him and he quickly realized the bull was charging again, only this time he was prepared for the stampede effect. Once within range, he threw his youki whip toward his target, ensnaring one of Tsuimaru's horns. The bull bucked his head from side to side and Sesshoumaru responded by pulling his face to the ground. Once he met the dirt, Sesshoumaru leapt over top of him and released a spray of acid downward, but the youkai rolled over just in time. The bull may not be extremely bright, but his persistent strength and precise instincts were advantageous to his extended survival. But the extension was near completion.

 

Sesshoumaru surveyed his surroundings as Tsuimaru stood, quickly noticing a roped, upturned bucket near a well a hundred meters or so deeper into the human village. He ran for it, a smirk tilting his lips when he heard the bull's thunderous strides following after him. He reached the bucket before his adversary and immediately realized it was empty. With a quick glance into the still very wet well, he chucked the bucket into its darkened depths and flipped backwards over the bull's head just as a thick arm connected with a wooden beam supporting the small structure. It collapsed, but the rim remained in tact.

 

He whipped the bull repeatedly before Tsuimaru had time to face him, blood now covering the expanse of his back. An idea struck Sesshoumaru then and he immediately released his dokkasou onto his whip, coating it thoroughly and slashed the bull's left wrist. Deep, venomous gashes lined his wrist, the painful acid eating away at the flesh, creating one of the most disgusting scents. Tsuimaru yelled as he subconsciously dropped his weapon to grasp his tortured limb. Estimating the immense weight of the artifact, Sesshoumaru twirled his body into a full circle, extending his whip once complete and connecting with the weapon dead-on at a slightly downward angle, his speed and weight propelling the monstrous hammer into the well.

 

Splintered wood flew into the air and the well exploded as the waves of sound crashed through the water and into the earth at the bottom. Water spewed into the air, raining down on Tsuimaru. Sesshoumaru immediately appeared in front of the oblivious taiyoukai, using both hands to mold his poison into a ball and then threw it across the short distance at Tsuimaru. When the water met his acid, an explosion erupted, Tsuimaru trapped within. Sesshoumaru leapt backward to a sufficient distance and watched as the bull melted into nothingness.

 

Too bad he couldn't add the bull's head to his growing collection.

 

He turned and saw a smiling Kazuma approaching him, though a good hundred meters or so still separated them. He then heard the humans coming out of their hiding places from where they had watched the battle. Humans were such curious and cowardly creatures with pathetic instincts. They should have known better than to remain in harm's way. Morbid curiosity would be the death of them, but it wasn't like he cared. Let them forget self-preservation; that would result in fewer humans to pollute the air with their sickly stench.

 

“Sesshoumaru?” It was a whisper, faint and feminine, with a slight rasp carved into it by moderate aging. He already recognized the scent, though decay had finally wormed its way into her once delightful scent.

 

His face hardened as anger renewed, though he would not allow it to take hold of him as he had before. He loathed human women to a degree beyond any other. The bull youkai he had just killed was more worthy of breath in his lungs than the pathetic creature standing behind him now.

 

He turned and faced her fully, a good twenty years of aging obvious, but not as unkind to her as he would have hoped.

 

“You've grown. You're so tall now,” she said softly, admiration and awe lacing her voice. “I didn't think you could get any more beautiful than you were.” She reached out to touch him and he backed away, disgust taking residence on his face. Her audacity was nothing short of hypocrisy, making him want to remove her hand from her wrist just to teach her a lesson. She hated youkai, so she shouldn't touch them unless destruction was her intent, like it had been two decades ago. He would gladly exemplify that model for her by severing her hand, for a human he would never touch, unless to kill them.

 

“Woman,” Kazuma said to the older Hitomi, “didn't your elders teach you any respect? Never address your superiors so familiarly unless you wish to lose your head. You should thank the great and terrible Inu no Taishou for saving the lives of you pathetic humans, for it is not a common occurrence for a taiyoukai to do as such.”

 

Sesshoumaru kept his eyes vacant as he looked down his nose at her as he spoke.

 

“Bow in respect, wench. Otherwise I may lose my patience along with my leniency,” he said darkly, malice lining each word.

 

Her eyes widened briefly in shock as she planted her knees and forehead to the ground. “Thank you, Great Sesshoumaru-sama. Thank you for saving us all.” He could smell her tears and realized he had never felt more disgusted.

 

“Wench,” he said spitefully, “I do not recalling granting you permission to use my given name. You shall address me by my title or suffer the consequences of your disrespect.”

 

“I-I apologize, Great Inu no Taishou-sama, for my disrespect. It will not happen again. Thank you for your aid and leniency, Inu no Taishou-sama.”

 

“I did not kill him to save you humans, stupid wench,” he scoffed. He then glanced at the gathered crowd, all of whom were now bowing so low that their heads were inseparable from the dirt. He found he liked them in that position; they were no better than the dirt underneath his boots after all. He raised his voice this time so all could hear as he spoke.

 

“That youkai challenged my authority and I dealt with him accordingly. Let that be a lesson to all you foolish humans, for you would die much easier than he.”

 

With that last statement, he walked away, Kazuma at his side as they returned home. He would never lay eyes on Hitomi again, her end unbeknownst to him, though he remained rather unconcerned about it.

 

xxx

 

She wounded his heart when she rebuked him for the last time, it bleeding within his chest only to harden as the years mounted alongside with his bitterness. After his final interaction with her, it died, petrifying to stone within his chest after its slow and inevitable decay. Time, however, had alleviated his pain and anger, though he still felt the urge to sneer at human females every time he saw one thereafter. But he managed to stay away from them for the most part and he found it was simply better to not have to deal with them.

 

But they had such pretty dark hair and such soft curves…

 

But that didn't dull his sharp hatred of them. They often regretted their actions when they chose to make advances toward him, though such occurrences were rare due to humans' innate fear of youkai, and so it was infrequent that he had to put them in their place, rather harshly of course. His disgust with their inconsistent lifestyles and moral lapses had faded and indifference replaced it, though at times, when he was forced to deal with them, he felt his rage bubble within, leaving behind an intense desire to drain them of their lifeblood.

 

But…Kagome…was different.

 

He looked at Kagome then, her eyes soft and sympathetic, hoping she didn't offer him pity in return for the retelling of his one and only story of love.

 

“What a bitch,” she hissed as her eyes hardened with that beautiful righteous fury, of which he was becoming smitten.

 

He wanted to laugh in a thrilled sense of relief that her response was not touched by squandered sympathy. Instead, he chose to study her streaked face, content to trace the glistening red lines. He wondered if human women in the future were all as wondrously divergent from the norm as Kagome.

 

He wondered…

 

x x x

 

Her mind was running a marathon, except that it didn't stop even after the twenty-six miles were spent.

 

She kept thinking about Inuyasha, wondering where he was now, though she knew he was journeying out to locate that green toad thing that hung around Sesshoumaru. He had basically let her go today and she didn't know if she was supposed to feel relieved that she finally knew how he felt or melancholy that her previous feelings were denied; all possibilities now closed, like a finished book. She supposed it was better to know rather than continuously wonder, but that fact still didn't dispel the lingering hurt wrought by finalization. But Sesshoumaru was probably right. The pain would fade with time and at least she could grasp onto some semblance of reassurance. She'd never have a physical reminder of him when she returned home for good, but that knowledge didn't dismiss the fact that she wanted to see him again.

 

Another tear fell and she didn't have the energy to feel pathetic for it.

 

“What's wrong, Kagome?” Sesshoumaru asked gently.

 

Her arms broke out into goose bumps and she cried harder. Why did she love his voice so much? Why did she want to spill all her hopes and fears and dreams to him? Why? She felt so confused and it only served to make her feel worse. She suddenly felt guilty for wanting to talk to Sesshoumaru and her sobs increased even more despite her knowledge that befriending Sesshoumaru was not necessarily a bad thing. It was just…just that Inuyasha objected to her flowering friendship.

 

“But damn, Kagome, you spoke to him like a friend. Like he'd understand.”

 

Well, he did seem to understand where she was coming from…and he…he listened. He didn't even complain about her tears. He just accepted them as so natural that he didn't even seem bothered by them. Wasn't that fact alone indicative of his understanding?

 

Yes.

 

“It was today that he let me go,” she whispered, her tears finally stilling as she succumbed to this new necessity within her—the need and desire to talk to Sesshoumaru and learn how he felt about the world. It had become…important to her. She just felt really bad right now, realizing that she hadn't handled all this as well as she thought she had earlier that day when she was talking to Inuyasha. He had been the center of her life for four years and she had loved him, but things were different now and she was lost as to where to go from here. She briefly wondered if her predicament was worse than Sesshoumaru's had been with Hitomi. At least Sesshoumaru had reasons to hate her, whereas she had no justification to despise Inuyasha or to even be mad at him. And she felt like being angry at something, like it would distract her from her pain. Would things always be this hard?

 

“Tell me life is beautiful,” she begged of him.

 

Her voice was strained and pleading, as though asking him to spare her life. She felt sicker.

 

He took a deep breath, his eyes never wavering from hers.

 

“I cannot tell you that,” he said softly, making her want to scream in agonized frustration. “Life is tedious, but seeking our own demise is cowardly. So we must live on as best we can.”

 

She felt it crack under the pressure, her heart finally shattering. She was trying to deal with this, really she was, but it was just so damn hard.

 

“But…” he began, the breakage within her chest seeming to halt with the sound of his voice. “Life is full of nuances—some bad, some good—but our interpretation of them makes us who we are. Sometimes the gray morphs into color. You must learn to search for the color amongst the gray. That is what makes life worth living.”

 

“W-what do you mean?” she asked brokenly between subtle fits of sobs.

 

“Kazuma is blue, like the sky,” he said distantly. “For the sky is consistent and it is always there, though sometimes dark and sometimes light. Hitomi is red, for she wounded my heart, making it bleed, but she also made my blood move.” His eyes refocused on her then. “What color is your mother, Kagome?”

 

She realized that the tears had completely stopped as understanding found her amongst the sea of confusion.

 

“My mother, she…she would be brown, like the trunk of a tree. She's my strength and my roots; the base supporting the oxygen that keeps me alive,” she said with a watery smile. “My grandfather is bright yellow, like the sun. Sometimes he's annoying like sunlight in my eyes, but other times he's so joyous he warms me from the inside out, reminding that even as the years mount, child-like happiness can be found.”

 

“My father is black like a void, but strong like granite. What color is your father?”

 

“My father is green,” she said with a bittersweet smile, feeling suddenly rejuvenated. “Like soft, sweet-smelling grass between my toes. Natural and beautiful and completely covering the ground of my heart. But gone come winter.”

 

“Your friends?”

 

She smiled wide now, not knowing from where this newfound sense of contentment sprang.

 

“Miroku is blue like water. His thoughts are deep and fluid and he's like a cool reprieve from the harshness of summer. Death visibly looms over him, yet he still finds joy in life. Sango is gold-colored. She's beautiful and sometimes soft and sometimes hard. Her sisterly love is precious to me. Shippou is pink, representing my soft spot and filling me loving fluff.”

 

“The foreigner, who I have yet to tell you about, named Maurus, is also pink in my mind. He was a ridiculous idealist, like pink is a ridiculous red. But he was fun-loving like a child, reminding me of a little girl's obsession with the color.”

 

She laughed hard and genuine. “I hope you never see my room!”

 

He smiled then with a strange look in his eyes and her blood warmed. He just looked so right like that.

 

“What color is my brother?” he asked softly, the look in his golden eyes darkening ever so slightly, leaving her a bit miffed.

 

She was happy that he distracted her from her problems, but did he have to ask her that? But…what color would Inuyasha be?

 

“Red,” she whispered.

 

“Tell me why.”

 

“He's bold and intense like a fiery red. He stole my heart and he bled for me. He protected me and tried to shield my heart from the inevitable wound it would receive from loving him. He's impossible to miss and stands out in my memory like a stoplight telling me to brake. Sometimes, he makes me want to die and sometime to live,” she said distantly. “Yes, Inuyasha is red.”

 

The people in life created the nuances that alleviated the monotony of life, like colors amongst a gray backdrop, making the scene worth looking at. But like a shaded color, people vary and consequently affect one's life in diverse ways. Inuyasha cared deeply for her, even loved and protected her. He introduced her to the meaning of love and the importance of fighting for a place in the world, but there were negative consequences to knowing Inuyasha as well. He unintentionally broke her heart and oftentimes made her feel weak and useless and his stubborn nature caused many arguments and frustrations to arise. But the good most definitely outweighed the bad, making Inuyasha an overall wonderful memory. And a memory he would be, for even if he had never released her, she couldn't have stayed. Her mother would have died inside if she had, and this time there would have been no uniformed men to bring her finalization. Yes, Inuyasha was one of her favorite memories.

 

She wouldn't be the same if his red hadn't stained the gray canvas of her life.

 

She wondered what color Sesshoumaru would be…

 

x x x