InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Temporal Sequence ❯ Chapter 16

Temporal Sequence

 

Chapter 16:

 

xxx

 

He leapt over the mossy wall with ease and landed silently, never once breaking his stride as he headed for the small field hand's hut on the outer perimeter of the estate. The moon was high and the night cool and within moments he spotted a woman carrying a large basket walking toward his destination.

 

It was that disgusting woman. He could recognize her scent anywhere as it persisted on insulting his nose, even when she was far from his sense's reach.

 

“Wench,” he ground out, filling the void between them with unprovoked malice. She dropped her basket at the sheer odium of his voice, a sharp sigh escaping her as she looked at him with wide eyes.

 

He was not blind; he could see that she was a beautiful woman, but life had taught him that those wrapped in the loveliest packages of mortality were the most venomous of vipers. Snake handling was delegated to beggars on street corners not powerful youkai lords in need of bedtime satisfaction. His father was indeed a fool.

 

“You look so much like him,” she whispered, her voice like honeyed milk to a sore throat. But she did not deceive him. He knew what she was—a pathetic, worthless human woman hoping to better herself through power and prestige by way of fucking a taiyoukai. She was pathetic indeed.

 

“How may I help you, Sesshoumaru?” she asked gently, a smile plastered across her face. It was sickeningly sweet and abhorrent in its less than natural state, like sugared tea. He loathed her already.

 

“Do not address me so familiarly, human,” he warned, not at all concerned with his tone of voice.

 

“My apologies, Sesshoumaru-sama,” she said, her surprise not lost to him. Did she expect him to be like his father? Perhaps she was a fool as well. “What may I do for you?”

 

“One such as you have nothing to offer me. I simply wished to see what my father deemed more important than his own son,” he said dispassionately. “ I must say that his choice disappoints me. I didn't realize my great father had stooped to desperation.”

 

“How dare you!” she said indignantly, her feet moving toward him as though she wished to strike him. He almost wanted her to; then he couldn't be held responsible for his actions. She stopped suddenly, still a respectable distance from his person, as an odd smirk lifted the corners of her lips. “So what really brings you here, Sesshoumaru-sama? Jealousy or hatred?”

 

“Perhaps both, or perhaps concern. Either way, it shouldn't matter to you as long as you stay away from my father,” he sneered at her.

 

“And why would I do that?”

 

“You think you're special, don't you?” he said, a nasty smirk of his own darkening his countenance. “Do you think you were the first? A great and terrible youkai lord finally succumbs to a human female's touch, softening him from within,” he mocked, noticing a frown deepening at her brow, making him glad he decided to pay her an undeserved visit. “He has a taste for you humans, but you are far from the first. He's taken countless human women to his bed and none have lasted long. Your time is running out, wench, so I suggest you save the remaining pieces of your dignity and never see him again.”

 

She laughed—short and bitter—the knowledge of disrespect growing all too obvious in his mind. He wanted to kill her all the more. “Trying to scare me off? Afraid that I'll become your mother?” She looked shocked for a moment as he contemplated strangling her, but then she righted herself and spoke apologetically to him. “I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. I realize that sharing your father's attention with another person is difficult, but you're practically full-grown. You have to separate yourself from him eventually.”

 

It was his turn to laugh. Share his attention—what attention? His father had finally been home for an indefinite yet assured lengthy stay and he quickly becomes infatuated with some woman and has no problem spending practically all his free time with her. Yes, he was envious, but his anger was greater and his disgust all-consuming. He hated the very blood that ran through her veins, granting her life and enabling his father's love. She was special in a sense, though he'd never tell her that. His father treated her differently from the others and seemed to legitimately care for her and indulge her—like a man helplessly in love. So, he was compelled to seek her out and hopefully steer her away.

 

What he really wanted was to slit her throat, but he thought his father might kill him for it. It was a sad fact in life when a son realizes that his father loves some woman he had just met more than his own son. Then again, he supposed it was natural since he and his father really didn't know one another. How can you love someone you don't know? Easy—you can't.

 

Too bad he forgot that it was his father who had told him that.

 

“You know nothing,” he supplied maliciously. “If this continues as it is, you both will end up dead.”

 

He walked away then, his claws digging into his fists with bloody intent.

 

The next day, as expected, his father was angry.

 

He had been summoned to his father's chambers and he complied with haste, knowing what was to come and eager to get it over with. Apparently, he arrived earlier than expected.

 

“I never wished my own son to harbor such prejudices. Had you something to do with this, Kazuma?”

 

He stopped dead in tracks, the open doorway a few meters ahead.

 

“I never spoke kindly of humans, nor did I purposely incite a hatred of them within him. But you must remember that you are an anomaly among your kind and you have been virtually absent during those vital years. It seems logical to me that he would dislike them.”

 

“He sought her out!”

 

“Well, your affairs are no secret. Had you been present more often, you would also know that the boy once fancied a human, but that did not turn out well.”

 

“He did?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why hasn't he spoken of this to me?”

 

“You would have to ask him yourself. As for the woman, I see no harm in him telling her what he did. He was brought up to speak his mind when he sees fit and I wouldn't have it any other way. He is usually tactful when he chooses to speak, but these circumstances are quite unique.”

 

“He made her cry! I can't stand it when women cry!”

 

“Her feelings are too delicate then. If she cannot handle the fact that you two are engaged in a socially unacceptable relationship, then she need not be in it.”

 

“Are you questioning my authority, Kazuma?”

 

“No, you are simply too preoccupied to think coherently. In fact, you are so preoccupied that you have yet to realize that your son is standing in the hallway listening to every word we speak.”

 

“SESSHOUMARU! GET IN HERE!”

 

He scrambled in the room quickly, not bothered in the least that he was eavesdropping and caught red-handed. He honestly didn't care. His respect for his father was hanging by a thin thread as it was anyhow.

 

“Yes, father?”

 

“Kazuma, leave us.”

 

His uncle bowed and left without a word, not even pausing to spare Sesshoumaru a glance. He was slightly vexed over that.

 

“Do you care to explain yourself?”

 

“No.”

 

His father's anger rolled upon him like a crash of waves upon the sand. But he withstood it as though it was as natural as the heightened tide coming full force to overwhelm the shoreline.

 

“Why in hell would you say those things to Izayoi?”

 

“I felt she needed to hear them,” he replied with a fluidity as slick as oil.

 

“So you feel no guilt in telling her that she and I would both die were we to remain together? Do you wish to kill me and Izayoi?”

 

“I will not try to kill you. As for your human toy, her own kind will take care of that if your need to rut her persists.” His father's fists were near shaking as he held a tight seal on his rage.

 

“You feel no guilt, do you?”

 

“No.”

 

“I never thought it would be like this,” his father whispered as his head drooped.

 

“Neither did I.”

 

His father's head snapped up then and their eyes locked for a long moment. Gold on gold, a unique hue, indicative of a familial relationship, but that was as far as it went.

 

“Are we finished?”

 

“Yes.”

 

He didn't feel guilty, not even for the thoughts of murder that lurked behind his eyes in the darkness behind the sun. He wouldn't sully his hands with her lowly blood, but she couldn't say she wasn't warned. What the humans had in store for such abdominal acts would be worse than the hell he had to offer.

 

If only he knew how true his prediction would be.

 

xxx

 

It was strange that he remembered Izayoi before he could even conjure up an image of his brother's face. It was even funnier that he recalled his brother's assigned color before a mental picture of the boy visually manifested within his mind.

 

He had listened intently as Kagome spoke about her journeys and her double life earlier that evening. She had shared her theories on the mysterious upbringing of Inuyasha in order to better explain, and accept in his opinion, his brother's oftentimes enigmatic behavior. Well, as far as that behavior concerned her anyhow. It was no secret that the girl harbored a deep affection for his brother and felt she knew the boy inside and out, which he found questionable. If she knew Inuyasha better than she knew herself, then why was she postulating about his past and subsequent personality? The answer was obvious—Inuyasha choose not to share these telling details of his life with her. How could she love someone she only half-knew?

 

“It is impossible to love someone you do not know, Sesshoumaru. When you learn to listen, to truly listen, then you will be prepared to love someone other than yourself.”

 

His father had once told him the meaning of love. Another argument erupted over Izayoi and his father declared his love for the human woman, saying he had never felt such a deep connection with another person. He asked his father how such a thing was possible and the answer provided was that his father knew Izayoi and thus loved, even craved, everything about her, whether good or bad, annoying or pleasant. He accepted it all and found a comfortable place for himself amongst her thoughts and idiosyncrasies.

 

Sesshoumaru never felt more disgusted or betrayed. He walked away from his father, pondering this new development. This love was something not reserved for him or his late mother, but for some god-forsaken human wench that held the power to ruin his great father within the words held loosely upon her flippant tongue. All it would take was a few uttered syllables and the whole world would know of his father's weaknesses and unscrupulous behaviors. It made him sick.

 

He wanted to slaughter the entire household when the woman became with child. There would soon be no secret to keep and though he could not recall the cutting words said to him by his father, he remembered the feelings of deep betrayal and anger that settled within his steeled heart. His hate was nothing more than veiled rage—a deep anger rooted in love. Hitomi was a mortal woman incapable of loving a demon, but Izayoi was capable of such love and his father once again reaped the rewards and possessed a luxury that he did not. However, his hatred for Izayoi was only partly due to her humanity.

 

Inuyasha was to be the cherished product of a loving union. A child born from love—something he was not. Even though he could not remember his brother's face, he knew that any love between he and his brother was not lost, for it had never been in the first place.

 

Inuyasha was yellow, for he felt the coward when he thought of his brother.

 

If only he could remember why…

 

His eyes drifted to the stars as he shifted the book in his lap so he could stretch his legs. It was the early hours before dawn when the clear skies took on the most brilliant shade of blue. The sky was dark and sprinkled with a few sparse stars, but light enough to flaunt its beautiful azure hue, giving it a mysterious and profound quality that always made him thoughtful and calm. He thought best at this time of the day. Something about the lovely sky and the rousing of life made his mind feel clear and level. He looked at the midnight blue expanse one last time as his eyes shifted to the sleeping girl. She looked relaxed as always when she slept, her hair splayed about her head, evidence of her spontaneous repositioning during the night. He imagined that if it was day and the sun shone bright, that her hair would most likely resemble that striking sky of twilight above. He rather liked the image.

 

He shook his head and resumed his reading, absorbing every word the psychology book had imprinted on its pages. He hoped his understanding was thorough enough. He figured it would be enlightening to able to speak with Kagome about her studies.

 

A tiny voice in the back of his mind reminded him that he also hoped to impress her, but he chose to ignore its presence as he commenced reading about `personality disorders,' briefly hoping he didn't have one.

 

That thought made him smile as he prepared himself to find one that fit Kagome.

 

x x x

 

She stared at her ramen with exaggerated contempt, vowing not to enjoy it. Inuyasha liked to call her useless sometimes because she was less than adequate in the necessary art of self-defense. Fair enough, she wasn't stubborn enough to debate that issue seeing as how she had an affinity for being kidnapped. Her high school teachers many times over had spoken with concern over her distracted mind and cluttered work, covertly asking her if there were problems in her home life. Again, their words were founded and so she brushed it aside with a small smile, her thoughts veering off topic to a certain silver-haired hanyou. Her mother had expressed a slight grudge against Inuyasha and tried to persuade her to go out with that nice, persistent boy, Hojou. `He's smart too, isn't he?' her mother would ask, fully aware of the answer, but point made nonetheless. She accepted her mother's worry and tried to ease her mother's mind, knowing that the elder Higurashi knew a thing or two more about the heart than she.

 

But a feudal taiyoukai trying to convince her that she was afflicted by a paranoid personality disorder was a completely different ball game. One in which she was savvy enough to hand him a beat-down.

 

“So you read one psychology book and suddenly you're Sigmund Freud!”

 

“I don't think I care for that analogy,” he replied pensively. “His ideas were quite a stretch, making me think he had issues of his own.”

 

Did he just slight the revered Freud? “Just because he had a few loose bolts doesn't diminish the important contributions he made to the field of psychology!”

 

“Bolts?”

 

“Never mind. How'd you read that thing so fast anyhow? It took you what, twelve hours?” How did he do that? If she could read an entire textbook that fast she'd have no collegiate fears whatsoever!

 

“Centuries of reading makes one quite proficient at it. This, however, took me longer than usual because the material is far advanced from what I am accustomed to. The experiments you humans have conducted were quite intriguing.”

 

“So practice made you a fast reader?” After the look he just threw her way, she wished she hadn't said anything at all.

 

“When you are older, in a few centuries perhaps, you will understand.” He was mocking her that arrogant jerk!

 

“Hey now!”

 

“You are digressing. Perhaps you are uncomfortable talking about your affliction? Denial is indicative of poor behavioral adaptation.”

 

“But is natural nonetheless,” she spat smugly. “Kind of like displacement, huh?” He ignored her insult, making her all the more angry.

 

“Hmmm,” he said with an exaggerated flair, making him sound like an inquisitive doctor. “It seems you are reading much into my remarks and deducing belittlement, though I have maintained benignity.”

 

“You are such a jerk!”

 

“It seems you have established and maintained a grudge against me as well.”

 

“Do you try to bring out the worst in me?”

 

“Very suspicious of you, Kagome, don't you think?”

 

“I am not paranoid,” she hissed. “How can you call my character into question?”

 

His eyes lowered back to the book in his lap and a smirk tilted the corner of his mouth. “You are quick to perceive and aggressively counterattack suppositions of your character and reputation. I don't think that's healthy.”

 

“Alright, Dr. Sesshoumaru,” she said sarcastically, “what other symptoms do I have?”

 

“Well, I recall a reluctance to confide in me because you feared what I might do with the information. There was also a recounting of your history in which recurrent suspicions of my brother's loyalty was called into question. I believe fidelity was among them, making the personality profile complete. Congratulations Kagome, you are an example of the Paranoid Personality Disorder.”

 

She wanted to swipe that book from his hands and bang him over the head with it a couple of times. Her face was hot from anger and her palms were sweating with the anticipation of causing him bodily harm. That was until she noticed the grin that enraptured his face as he skimmed over some random lines in the book. He was enjoying himself, not really meaning what he said, but hoping to rouse some reaction from her. He hadn't hurt her feelings, though it was slightly disconcerting to hear her former enemy use some tender and secretive information to make her compatible with a disorder. That was a perplexing thought. If Sango had done such a thing, she would have questioned the elder girl's love for her. Had Miroku uttered those words so carelessly, she would have thought him insensitive. But Sesshoumaru…was different. It was like he possessed a unique and far superior perception of her relationship with Inuyasha, granting him the right to poke fun at her problems. Why was everything he did anything but insulting? His very existence was a burden to Inuyasha, making insult rise to life by a mere whiff of a scent. But not to her…and that kind of scared her.

 

She would ignore that for now, seeing as how she had a game to win.

 

“Give me that book!” she demanded as she stood and walked toward him, her now cold lunch forgotten.

 

He looked up at her with keen disinterest as though he didn't realize she was talking to him. “I do not comply well with commands,” he stated nonchalantly. “Perhaps you should ask nicely.”

 

“Like hell!” She lunged for the book and he slid to the side a little too easily. She pushed a knee into the ground to stop her face from meeting it. If he wouldn't give it to her, then she'd take it. “Fine,” she said in a defeated tone. She acted like she had forsaken the notion as and sat with her legs folded beneath her. She pretended the grass caught her interest and a few minutes later his eyes returned to the glossy pages and she knew he took the bait. She lunged again and his reflexes proved their superiority once more as he moved aside and held the book out of her reach.

 

“You should know by now that trying to take things from me is futile.”

 

She knew he was right, but it was just so unfair that impulse took hold of her reins and compelled her to play dirty. She stuck her finger in her mouth and when confident that it was good and wet, she stuck it in his ear and coated the shell with her saliva. The look of pure shock on his face was priceless and almost proved to be her downfall, but she managed to regain her composure and confiscated her book.

 

“Ha!” She jumped off the ground and did a short, stupid little victory dance to further rub it in his face that she had indeed taken something from him. He quickly regained his passive countenance of disinterest and straightened his back once more, giving him that air of privileged dignity. What a sour-puss…

 

“That has to be the most childish thing I have ever experienced.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” she said with a flippant wave of her hand, “ I know you don't know what fun is.” She thought she heard an indignant snort, but it wasn't pervasive enough for her to know for sure. “Ah-ha!” she exclaimed after a few moments of scanning the pages. “It seems we have a contender!”

 

“It is useless,” he said dispassionately. “I thoroughly read that particular section and it cannot possibly describe me.”

 

“And why not? Think you're too good to have personality flaws?”

 

He frowned at her. “It says that personality disorders typically manifest in adolescence and become pervasive in adulthood only to become less pronounced during an individual's middle aged years. I am well past those years, by a few centuries. Had I possessed such problems at one point is rather moot, seeing as how those same characteristics are no longer an issue for someone as old as I.”

 

It was her turn to snort. “Just because they're less pronounced doesn't mean they're not still present. You're just trying to steer me away! Found one that applies, did you?” She didn't even try to stop the evil smirk from overwhelming her face. This was so much fun! “I think the Schizoid Personality Disorder is a good start. Let's see here,” she said to herself as she finished reading the short list of symptoms. “Emotional coldness and detachment,” she read aloud. “Sounds familiar. A limited capacity to express emotions. Well, I've seen you express some pretty convincing malice toward your brother, but that's in need of further exploration,” she said confidently, inwardly squealing at the pointed glare he directed at her. “Very few close relationships. Do you desire intimate relationships, Sesshoumaru?”

 

“No.”

 

“Well, it says you shouldn't. Consistent preference for solitary activities is also a symptom. Hmmm,” she mocked, pausing to wet her lips, “I recall a quiet youkai that likes to spend his time thinking. Sounds solitary to me!” She looked at him with excitement looming over her, wondering what expression was on his face now!

 

His eyes were intense and his lips were no longer pressed together in irritation. He looked soft and approachable right now in the overcast sunlight; his eyes shadowed by overhanging bangs and his lips slightly parted. He looked transfixed on something of great intrigue, except that he was looking at her face. What was he thinking? She shook her head, hoping to clear the accumulating junk, and forced herself to look away from that currently very appealing face. She resumed her diagnosis with fervor.

 

“Where'd I leave off? Oh! You seem pretty indifferent to everything, praise and criticism included. Do you take pleasure in any activity besides killing? Because it says few things bring you enjoyment and I'm inclined to believe it. Let's see here. Indifference to convention and preoccupation with introspection—getting warmer! And a lack of desire for sexual—“

 

“Are you finished?”

 

“Yes,” she replied automatically, a blush burning her cheeks. She should have paid more attention to what she was reading, but she had been too caught up in the moment. Why was it that sex humiliated her so? Was it because she had nothing to say on the matter except that she had deviant hormones? She wasn't sure, but she knew she must look like a cherry right about now.

 

“Is that how you see me?” She saw him stand from the corner of her eye and move toward her. She watched as he knelt before her, not willing her eyes to look up at his face. “Look at me.” She refused—no, she just couldn't, but she didn't know why that was the case. She felt his fingers push her bangs out of her face, her blush deepening in response to his touch. He had never touched her like this before. This was purposeful and delicate and it made her skin burn. “No, I do not desire intimacy with others and yes, I am detached. Do you know why?” She shook her head in negation; his hand still pressed against the side of her face. “Because it's easier that way. I will always remain. In my stead, everything loses its former beauty or intrigue, unable to withstand the throes of time. Indifference and isolation are the conventions of my life and it's natural at this point for nothing to affect me much. Introspection is not a preoccupation, but rather a way to pass the time. There is always time to overcome and forever I will remain. It is my life.”

 

She looked up at his face just as he pulled away, his back rigid as he looked toward the heavens that were as ceaseless as he. She understood now. Many of the things that had happened to him in life had molded him and defined his relationships with others, but the nature of his life was the basis that made the man before her Sesshoumaru. Time—inescapable and grueling and never-ending—it was his burden and his blessing, forcing him to experience many things he did not wish to know and to endure many hardships he'd rather not begrudge. Time allows for hurt to dull and anger to fade, but it tests love and tries resilience. Can one continue to desire life and maintain the freedom to live it throughout the course of infinity? It must be so boring and so painful, the encounters of surprise and intrigue hardly enough to make it worthwhile. At least he was enabled a continuously broadening perspective and an enormous stockpile of knowledge, but was it enough?

 

Even the stars burn out after so long.

 

His question echoed within her mind and she briefly pondered it. How did she see him? What did he mean to her? He meant something, that was for sure, and curiously, that something was growing in importance. Maybe she was just too trusting, something she had been accused of more than once—and quite contradictory to a paranoid personality, she thought begrudgingly. Was she looking for solace through him because he was convenient and happened to be quite the listener? Or was it more than that? Did she view him as a friend? She already knew he had transcended the boundary between acquaintance and friend, but she was reluctant to examine how deep those bountiful waters of friendship flowed.

 

“I see you as extraordinary,” she whispered, almost surprised she had said it aloud. He turned to her, mild shock again taking hold of his features. Was he astonished to hear what she thought of him? Did he expect it to be more negative or apathetic?

 

How much did he trust her? She didn't really know how he thought of her, though he strongly hinted at the conclusion that he did in fact view her in a similar light as she viewed him. But how far did that light reach? He trusted her with many details of his life, but how much was he willing to divulge? Would he truly confide in her? Her eyes fell upon the last symptom of the Schizoid Personality Disorder and she knew a way to test this new curiosity, though she figured he might see through her ploy. Either way, it didn't matter, because she had just resolved herself to ask a particular question, of which she was, in fact, very interested to hear his views. She could already feel the blush darkening at the mere thought of it.

 

“Do you have sexual desires, Sesshoumaru?” she asked nervously, a loud swallow following her words. “I-I…I'm just curious and…a-and,” she mumbled, fully aware of how stupid she sounded. Why was this topic so difficult for her? She really needed to get over her fear of sex and come to terms with her own budding sexuality. If Sesshoumaru could make her feel better about Inuyasha, then she'd assumed he could make her feel better about her chaotic and powerful desires. At least she hoped he could…

 

She forced her eyes back to his and that same expression of utter shock remained plastered to his face. “Are you still trying to place me in that disorder? You should know better than I that an individual must meet those symptoms consistently and that they must be so pervasive as to interfere with one's life. I do not—“

 

“That's not what I'm doing. You know what, just never mind. Forget I asked.” After having a minute to think it over, she decided it was really none of her business and she wished she had saved herself the embarrassment by never asking. She wanted to hear what he had to say and didn't at the same time, which when coupled together resulted in massive amounts of confusion. She had no idea what was going on inside her own head anymore.

 

“I may be youkai, but I am also a man,” he said quietly, his eyes turned heavenward again. “Yes, I have sexual desires.”

 

“Oh.” She honestly didn't know where to go from there and so she said nothing more, thinking he'd drop it, but…he didn't.

 

“My experiences are nothing to be emulated,” he said with a trace of sarcasm lining his voice. “My uncle decided that there was one sure way to rid my mind of Hitomi and her betrayal. He had mentioned it before with no results, save a scathing remark from Maurus, but shortly after Hitomi's wedding his plan was enacted. It was quite a surprise.”

 

Kagome watched with keen interest as he gracefully sat down in front of her, preparing himself to tell this particular story. This gave her the opportunity to prepare as well since this was going to be the strangest and most explicit conversation she had ever had. She was almost excited to hear his experiences and repeatedly told herself to calm down. By the gods, just the word sex had an impact on her!

 

She swallowed her apprehension and anticipation as he began to speak, never once realizing that this first time, and definitely overdo, conversation was happening with her first love's hated brother, her former enemy and newest friend. A man that made her understand the complexity of life and the many shades of a single event. A man that showed her that people had many, many facets just waiting for interpretation.

 

And Sesshoumaru had more facets than she first thought possible.

 

x x x