InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Temporal Sequence ❯ Chapter 18

Temporal Sequence

 

Chapter 18:

 

xxx

 

He had just returned from mediating a dispute between two youkai clans, but it would be the last in which he'd participate. The desire to travel was rapidly climbing up his list of priorities and he had reluctantly come to a conclusion of sorts. His father had settled in the western provinces of the countryside, claimed it as his own and rigorously fought to expand his lands and protect neighboring ones from strife, all in the name of peace. Sesshoumaru, however, didn't care for such things; he didn't need land or allies. His serenity was found in the open air, the sounds of gurgling creeks and the whisper of grass beneath his feet. He was suffocating in this environment and in order to find his breath once more, he needed to make a change. He would keep the land in the immediate vicinity of the citadel, but that was all. The rest was now up for grabs to any human warlord or worthy taiyoukai determined enough to keep it. He no longer cared; that was his father's legacy, not his.

 

Upon entering his private armory, he came upon a most unusual sight. Sprawled out across the floor, arms above his head and neck bent at a curious angle, was Kazuma. The elder youkai was flat on his back and staring at the ceiling with a strange expression engraved upon his face. He stood over his uncle's body and glared at him, but Kazuma didn't even bother to acknowledge his presence. That irked him beyond reason, seeing as how he had been gone for a few months.

 

“What are you doing?” he asked authoritatively, like a father scolding his child.

 

Kazuma released a lengthy sigh, keeping his eyes fixated on the ceiling above him. “I'm just trying a new perspective, that's all.”

 

That was uncharacteristic of the Kazuma he had known for so long. “I thought you were quite content with your previous one. Has something happened?”

 

“I remain content with my previous one,” Kazuma said in his usual deadpanned voice. “I just feel the need to understand an alternate one.” Sesshoumaru threw him an odd look before shrugging out of his armor. He replaced it next to his sword and left Kazuma to his own devices, choosing instead to retire to his chambers for the night.

 

The next morning, Kazuma didn't show himself at the breakfast table. There was only one time he could recall Kazuma not coming to breakfast and that was when his uncle had received word of his father's death, which had shocked Sesshoumaru since he wasn't even aware that he'd had a living grandparent. Kazuma didn't talk much about his family, making Sesshoumaru assume that Kazuma was the only remaining member. When asked why he kept such information to himself, Kazuma had said that the man's memory wasn't even worth the air expended in order to speak, and he left it at that.

 

He ate his breakfast silently, lingering longer than usual as he milked his tea, hoping he might catch Kazuma on his way out. After sitting idly for far too long, he left the dining room and decided to take a walk. As he passed the kitchen, he overheard some of the female servants talking.

 

“He was on the breakfast table?”

 

“Yes, I couldn't believe it! I've served this household for a long time now and I've never seen the elder master act in such a way! I rose early today to make sure all was perfect since the young master returned late last night. When I went to check the dining room, there he was, flat on his back, on top of the dining table! Can you believe it?”

 

“Oh, my! I wonder what got under his skin?” The women laughed and Sesshoumaru walked away, now very intent on finding his uncle and figuring out the cause of his eccentric behavior. If Kazuma continued acting as such, then surely everyone would think him mad.

 

After exhausting the citadel, he headed outdoors, confident now that he finally recognized fresher traces of Kazuma's scent. He exited the building and descended the stairs, knowing Kazuma was near. He was right, but he hadn't expected to see Kazuma lying haphazardly over the jagged steps, the crown of his head angled toward the ground.

 

“What is the matter with you? Still seeking that alternate perspective?”

 

Kazuma released another odd sigh, his eyes still looking heavenward. “Did I ever tell you I was in love once?” This was interesting news. He had long been under the impression that Kazuma was incapable of feeling such an emotion saturated with affection and dependency.

 

“I was. She was so beautiful. She looked delicate, but she was strong and her brightness thwarted the darkest of shadows. But it was not meant to be.” He thought Kazuma had never sounded so solemn before.

 

“And why not?”

 

“I was much older than her. I saw her as an infant and even as a small child, though I didn't pay her any mind. While she was still young, I left to train in the mountains. When my training was complete, I traversed these lands in search of worthy opponents in order to increase my own strength. When I finally returned home, she had grown. Did I ever tell you I had a brother?”

 

“No.”

 

“I did, once. He was younger by many years and when I returned, he was long gone, pursuing his own training. My father refused to train us until after we received proper instruction. He thought he might kill us if he did. Such a careless man,” Kazuma said as he extended an arm upward as though he could touch the clouds from his low perch. “When she first saw me upon my arrival, she had no idea who I was. My brother had been her companion in youth, and since he was gone, she came to me.

 

“She was lonely and thought I was too. Solitude never bothered me, I had told her, but she ignored my words and proceeded to pester me. Her beauty always caught my attention and I grew to appreciate other things about her as well—her voice, her mind, her mannerisms and her grace. I especially loved her grace. We spent endless hours together. Sometimes, at night, she would read to me as I leaned against the screen outside her room. We would take walks on sunny afternoons and stargaze together on clear nights. I loved her. I loved her with every fiber of my being.

 

“I never took her; it wasn't right. I craved her, but the guilt consumed me and I cursed my treacherous thoughts. Though I never dishonored her, I didn't always act appropriately toward her. Sometimes, I put her to bed and I would sit by her side while she sought rest. I would stroke her face, running my fingers along her jaw and such. It always made her smile, even when she was asleep. She would embrace me often and I would hold her far too long. I treated her too intimately, but I just couldn't help it. She made my control slip, which had never happened before and has yet to happen since. I was hungry for her, yet I kept her honor in tact.

 

“My father sent me off to battle and I was gone for quite some time. I was desperate to return to her and when I did return, so had my brother. I should have been more careful, knowing of their childhood bond, but I always lost my senses around her. One night, I went to her room so we could be alone. My desperation weakened me and I kissed her. Then, my brother walked in.”

 

Sesshoumaru was shocked to say the least. First of all, he had never known that Kazuma had a previous lover and secondly, Kazuma had never talked about his past at any length. It was strange, but welcomed. It was nice to know his uncle had urges like everyone else and was comfortable enough to tell him these things. But why was Kazuma acting so strange? Was his recent behavior related to this?

 

After several moments of silence, Sesshoumaru decided to prod him further. “What happened?” he asked, thinking his other uncle, of whom he had no previous knowledge, must have loved the woman as well. Sibling rivalry was most likely the downfall of their relationship.

 

“My brother tried to strike me, but she got in the way. I shielded her, but before I regained my bearings, he had purposely hit her. She was on the ground, crying. I took my brother's sight that night and would have taken his life had she not stopped me.” Again, Kazuma surprised him with this little twist. Weren't they vying for the same woman?

 

“Her mercy would prove to be our downfall. He told my father immediately, but he would have found out anyway when my brother's blindness was confirmed. She was forcibly kept away from me and married off to the first respectable suitor my father could find.”

 

“What? Why would your father have any right to marry the girl off?” he asked, his confusion weighing down his voice. He could understand his grandfather forbidding his son from seeing an unworthy girl, but choosing her husband? That made absolutely no sense, unless… “Who was this woman?” he asked, his skin lighting ablaze with budding fury.

 

Kazuma finally stood then and turned around to face him. “Isn't it obvious? She was your mother.”

 

Sesshoumaru stalked down the stairs and punched Kazuma in the jaw. It was the first and only time he would ever strike his uncle. Kazuma took it graciously and even had the decency to allow his balance to falter. When he picked himself up, he spoke so passionately that Sesshoumaru honestly didn't know how to react.

 

“Do you think I'm not ashamed? Do you think I was glad to fall in love with my own sister? It was a constant struggle, dealing with my feelings. I was always at odds with myself, trying to forget her pretty smile and the emotions she stirred within me. My mother hated me afterwards and I had always adored her. She died from the grief I inflicted upon her. My father rebuked me and my brother left, never to be seen again. My father never intended to give up his territory, but he did, just to make sure that I didn't sully his good name. Can you even imagine how difficult that was to endure? Your mother loved me, but she stopped me time and time again from touching her. She knew it was wrong and she maintained her integrity for the most part.”

 

Kazuma paused and inhaled slowly, his eyes closing for a brief moment as he composed himself. “Do you know how hard it was for me to see her with your father, a man she didn't love? I came here after she died and I could hardly even bring myself to look at you. But here I am now, after all these years and still at your side. If I told you that I loved you, Sesshoumaru, would you send me away as well?”

 

He just stood there, like an icicle, ready to crash onto the earth below only to shatter. He didn't know what to say.

 

“Don't kill him, Sesshoumaru. You will only live to regret it.”

 

He was talking about Inuyasha. “Why? Why say these things to me now?”

 

“Because I will soon be a father and my mistakes are clearer than ever.”

 

“What did you say?”

 

His uncle did the most unexpected thing then. Kazuma strode determinedly up to him and embraced him fiercely. He was rigid; his uncle's arms pinning his own to his sides.

 

“You bear the mark of my family upon your brow. You may hide it if you like, but it will always be there.” With that said, Kazuma released him and walked back inside the citadel, leaving an angry and perplexed Sesshoumaru in his wake.

 

xxx

 

He avoided his uncle for several months thereafter, but he could not maintain his ire. It sickened him to know of his mother's incestuous relationship with her elder brother. It was so repulsive that his own sexual desires waned and the mere thought of lust made him ill. That was when he dismissed his harem and repressed his own sexuality. He would later learn that things were not so black and white. His grandfather was a cruel man who was overprotective of his children and so he kept them largely isolated. Kazuma was also absent during his sister's childhood, meaning a brotherly bond was never formed. Though these things added some justification for his uncle's wayward feelings, they did not make the attraction any more acceptable or right.

 

At least Kazuma had the decency to acknowledge that fact.

 

After his cousin's birth, an important realization overtook him. Kazuma was a family-oriented man, one whom obviously wanted a child of his own for quite some time. The woman who birthed Kazuma's son wanted nothing to do with the bastard child and so Kazuma took the infant without complaint. He didn't particularly like that woman anyhow, he had said; she was just pretty and he liked the way she walked.

 

Kazuma took a lot of walks. It would seem his family was comprised of wanders; Kazuma was just more content to wander close to home.

 

“Well,” Kagome began, effectively breaking the overbearing silence, “that's surprising, and kind of sick, but it must've been nice to know he was able to love so strongly. And…and at least he knew it was wrong and was trying to make up for his sins.”

 

He found it perplexing that Kagome so easily grasped the truth from second-hand recollections. Yes, he now realized that it proved the hidden depth of Kazuma's feelings, but back then, rage and disappointment was all he took from it. Kazuma had, however, made a specific impact in that moment that Sesshoumaru was never able to disregard, no matter how hard he tried.

 

“Don't kill him, Sesshoumaru. You will only live to regret it.”

 

That string of words, meaningless without regard to context, haunted him every time he thought of his estranged brother. Despite that pitiful feeling, he still visited the boy many times with lessons and warnings, all in the name of cultivation. He planned on rectifying his father's last mistake, but not until the boy was fully capable of defending himself. Otherwise, there would be no honor in his efforts. He clearly recalled the first time he approached Inuyasha after Izayoi's death. The boy finally realized his lot in life.

 

“You hate me because I was born different than you, right?”

 

He would never visit Inuyasha again. He had told himself that the next time he saw his brother would be the last time he, or anyone else, would ever see him. Apparently, he had made a liar of himself, but looking at Kagome right now made it seem okay that things turned out the way they did—because she obviously loved his brother.

 

She loved his brother…

 

He stood and walked away, decidedly ignoring her questions as her voice followed him to the stream, only to fade and die there.

 

x x x

 

It was nightfall when he finally returned.

 

She thought about him the whole day. She thought about his absentee father and how desperately he vied for the man's attention. She thought about his hard-lined uncle and how diligently he worked to make the man proud. She thought about the girl that broke his heart and how hard he tried to overcome his hurt. To her, it seemed that Sesshoumaru just wanted to be loved and accepted, just like Inuyasha, and everyone else for that matter.

 

It was time to ask him about Inuyasha, but she wouldn't push the issue too far.

 

He sat down across from her silently, the dim glow of untended embers painting his hair and face orange. Like the robes of modern-day monks, to her, orange was the color of truth.

 

“What color is Inuyasha?” He looked at her for a long moment and when he spoke, he sounded more reluctant than ever, she thought.

 

“He is yellow. I couldn't kill him and even if I had, I'd still be a coward. He was always a loss to me.”

 

“Was it Kazuma that stopped you from killing him?”

 

“Partly, but only as far as my haste went. Kazuma taught me patience and honor, making them out to be necessary virtues. His words, however, planted a sense of regret within me. I would live to regret it, he had said.”

 

“Kazuma was pretty wise, huh?”

 

“Yes, but I wanted to despise him for those words that day. Not only because he spoke of treachery in regards to my mother, but also because his words mimicked my father's.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“When word arrived that my father's mistress became with child, I was enraged. I approached my father, hoping to convince him to rid her and her unborn child from this world. Society learning of his affairs was damaging in itself, but a bastard hanyou child meant suicide for my father, which was exactly what came to pass.”

 

“Because I will soon be a father and my mistakes are clearer than ever.”

 

“He wanted to do right by Inuyasha and I hated him for it.”

 

Her heart felt heavy, but she knew she couldn't console him. He'd had a long time to come to terms with these events and she couldn't possibly understand no matter how much she wished she could. It was admirable of his father to want to be there for Inuyasha and to openly embrace a socially unacceptable child, but like his uncle's incestuous love, those facts didn't make it okay to slight his older son.

 

“Do you think your father wasn't ready to be a parent when you were born?”

 

“That's what my uncle had said, but it never made me feel better. I masked my hurt with hate. That was how I coped.”

 

His words made her think about the Shikon no Tama and all the enemies she had faced with Inuyasha. So much hurt usurped by hate, and even Inuyasha was no exception. Enemies upon enemies desired to take possession of the jewel so that they could fulfill their dreams and forget their pain. She wondered if Naraku was the same, too.

 

“I'm sorry, Sesshoumaru.”

 

“Don't pity me. It was my own foolishness that perpetuated the pain and hatred. Despite knowing that, I still despise my brother, though I realize it is of no fault of his own. I will probably continuing loathing him until his existence has expired.”

 

“But didn't you once tell me that time alleviates such things?”

 

He looked surprised when she said that, a small, almost invisible smile taking root. “I suppose it's possible.”

 

That was enough for her. He hated Inuyasha unjustly, but at least he had the decency to know that. She supposed then that Sesshoumaru was never really completely bad, or else, unjust or not, Inuyasha would be long dead and she'd never have met either one of them.

 

“You know, we wouldn't be sitting here like this if you had killed him.”

 

“I know. Perhaps Fate does act according to a higher plan.”

 

“I sure I hope so, or else I have no idea why I'm even here!” she exclaimed, faintly realizing she dismissed an ulterior point of his words. Sometimes, the things he said scared her.

 

“What exactly do you mean?”

 

“I'm here, in this time, because a demon dragged me here. The Shikon no Tama was in my body. I brought it back here and broke it. It has caused so many problems. People have died because of my mistake and people continue to suffer because of it. It's all my fault and that's why I'm piecing it back together. But, I have to wonder why—why am I here?”

 

“Perhaps it is best that the jewel is eradicated here, in this time. More ghastly things may have happened if it was left in your time.”

 

“I've already told you that there are few youkai in my time. Magic is a thing of the past.”

 

“Maybe that's true, maybe not. It's also possible that the widespread existence of magic in this era will make its destruction plausible.”

 

“That still doesn't make me feel any better.”

 

“That's your burden to bear, Kagome. The truth is, you will never know.”

 

She swallowed hard, never once breaking her sight from him. The embers were cooling now, darkening his face with quickly abandoning light. She hated thinking about that particular memory; the one in which she saw an inexperienced archer holding fast onto a bow, blindly aiming and shooting, only to destroy a youkai and break an object into countless pieces. She couldn't have known the gravity of her miscalculation, but that didn't erase the fact that she did it nonetheless. It was in the past now, but its severity still remained. She constantly remembered because a few of the products of her misdeed traveled with her, damaged, but not broken, by the events she had set into motion.

 

She realized then that Sesshoumaru, like everyone else, was a product of his experiences and a slave to his memories.

 

x x x

 

Twilight came and an urge overtook him. He removed his shirt and pulled one of his swords from its sheath, briefly inspecting the ominous blade only to replace it in its scabbard. This was another one of his pastimes, and knowing what he did about himself, he knew that when he enjoyed something, he overindulged himself with it. In remembrance of his past lessons, he took on a familiar Iaijutsu formation. He closed his eyes, concentrated on his breathing and visualized an imaginary opponent.

 

Draw, cut, replace.

 

It was a relaxing ritual, one in which he preferred to do during the twilight hours. The air was most pleasant during the sparse hours before dawn and the sky was colored beautifully, a true contrast to the reality of war, where the atmosphere was ugly and the air suffocating.

 

He continued going through the motions, sweat covering his body, and he felt truly revitalized for the first time that he could recall. The dying moon, though, was no longer his only witness. He heard her stir and felt her wake, but she never said anything like he had expected. Not wishing to end his peaceful exercise, he continued on as though he didn't know she was watching him.

 

It was strange having an audience, making him believe that he'd never practiced like this in front of anyone before. It was his nightly ritual and his alone, but somehow or another, he decided it was acceptable for Kagome to see. So, he continued on, slicing and cutting his nonexistent opponents. He didn't stop until after Kagome had been long asleep.

 

With practiced fluidity, he replaced his sword into its scabbard and returned it to its proper place next to the other, duller blade. Just as he realized he needed a bath, a heady, earthy scent came to him. It was delightful and forbidden, though as natural as any earth-born scent in existence. He knew this scent well and was rather fond of it.

 

Kagome must've been having one of those dreams.

 

Sweat beaded at her brow, her lips parted and her breathing picked up. He could hear her heart race. A tiny, breathy moan filled the distance between them and he tried to look away, feeling disgusted with himself, like a voyeur should, but found that he couldn't. He'd never seen a woman like this before. Her face was flushed and she looked so open and so…soft. He suddenly wondered what she would feel like.

 

He condemned himself, knowing that he shouldn't want to touch her, but unfortunately, the damage was already done. What if…what if he touched her? What would happen? With that thought, he resigned himself to the nearby stream; its cool waters a needed thing indeed.

 

As he submerged himself in those frigid waters, knowing by the time he returned and day had broken, that scent would be lost with the beauty of twilight. He now wished he had said something to her earlier, when she had first awoken, but then again, it probably wouldn't have stopped her lascivious dream from happening. And that was the crux of his problem right now—the fact that her dream lived up to its namesake and made her look positively erotic. He then felt compelled to reevaluate his companionship with Kagome. He tried to rejuvenate his hatred of her kind, of human women, but failed, opting instead to remind himself that the hanyou who made him a liar was of whom she dreamt.

 

As life would have it, though, and much like regret, the what-ifs were the most unbearable.

 

x x x

 

 

 

Thanks for bearing with me while I revised this story.