InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Gift That Keeps on Giving ❯ Hatred ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I (Ren-San) sadly do not own Inu Yasha or any characters associated with it. The only thing I own is this story…thus the life of a penniless American Japanese wanna-be…

Chapter 1: Hatred

Hatred. The one thing I felt for the mistake that is my younger brother. Hatred for his useless human mother and most of all, hatred for the father that chose her. The lord of the western lands…and a human woman, with a hanyou son. What a disgrace.

From the very first time I saw him, with his stupid dog-like ears and his foul scent, I have had an insatiable urge to kill him with my own two hands. Every time I looked upon his pitiful sleeping form I have wanted to grab the nearest pillow and smother him with it.

I remember the day the little abomination was born. My father had looked at me expectantly as if to say, "Come son, embrace this child. This child whose mere presence on this earth will cause us more shame and dishonor to us than we ever could have known." I sneered. Never would I touch that disgusting beast.

"Sesshoumaru, come see your new brother." Izayoi, the foul human woman had said with her bright smile. I had done my best to look fearsome as I glared back at her.

I have seen him and I am disgusted. He is a disgrace to my father and myself, even more so than you. His smell alone is enough to make me vomit and furthermore, I do not take orders from lowly human women such as yourself."

Izayoi had been hurt. Tears were welling in her eyes and I had loved it. I had loved the fact that I had caused her pain. My father, though, had not shared in this sentiment and before I knew it I found myself on the floor. He had struck me. Struck me for the sake of that woman.

"Father…you take this woman over me?"

I did not receive an answer but his silence had spoken volumes to me. The woman and the brat had replaced me in my father's heart and all I had had to show for it were three cuts across my cheek and the hatred for the little hanyou that had ruined my life.

Even as I look at him now, 9 months later, I feel the hatred growing inside of me. The brat looks at me and giggles and in response I bare my fangs and growl menacingly, which only causes him to giggle more. At this moment I wish nothing more than to take my father's sword, chop his head off and give it to the woman as a gift, but rather than doing so I savor the images in my head and walk away from the giggling monstrosity to find a quiet, brat proof place to think.

A/N: Kinda short, I know, but I've got plans for this one…..