InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Nature of Change ❯ Monday ( Chapter 4 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

A/n: Thank you for the reviews. I really love them. They're very encouraging. The responses to Kagome's character is encouraging, I really try and put a lot of thought into her. At times, my Sesshomaru seems strange to me--but I enjoy him. I try to keep aspects of the old Sessho involved while trying to see him as reformed into something different, perhaps someone who has evolved. I don't quite understand him myself, or his motivations XD. He's a mystery to me too Kagome! Haha. Sorry for the wait, hope it was worth it guys!

Thanks again.

Luna-

Kagome had taken residency upon her couch, intent on drowning herself in her latest purchase. It was a novel, one that she had taken great fancy to in all actuality. She had spent countless hours there on her rugged little island of cushions, her homework lying abandoned on the dining room table. The events that had led up to her purchase were none other than a burning curiousity to understand a single man that had consumed her thoughts over the last three days.

Sesshomaru, and none other.

How had he survived? What had he gone through to change him so drastically? What had happened to Rin? Sango, Miroku, Shippo, Kouga... for that matter. People that had flitted through her thoughts less and less through the years, begrudgingly accepting them as dead due to the centuries that had past. But here was this enigma, the one that had escape time's grasp relatively unscathed. He looked as young as he once had been, perhaps no older than thirty in her current era.

Her era.

As if the timeline belonged to her solely.

It was his too, now. Time was a funny thing, intangible, yet its effects were felt so drastically. It could heal and mend, consume and bring solace. But never did it stop for anyone, or anything. It marched steadily forward, the one thing that was unchanging.

Yet it managed to change all, even him.

He was so incredibly... different. But still, so incredibly... him.

What had molded him so uniquely, what had changed him so subtly into this incredibly refined being of sophistication and dry humor? How many layers did he have, what were the levels of his conciousness, his knowing?

It was a riddle to her, one she was beginning to try and unravel with a fevor she hadn't felt in well... years, really. Something she was beginning to feel passionate about, trying to understand the inner workings of a being other than herself. Those almost 'darling' little interactions that managed to leave her pissed offf, with a lack of a better phrase to use.

Yet the questions she was left with...

It inspired within her a drive. And when she had been walking home from work the night before, having executed a very long and arduous shift, she had been nothing but ready to kick up on her sofa and continue some bad titty horrors if only to recapture that sense of peace from Saturday night. The groceries she was carrying seemed heavier than usual, regardless of it being nothing but some meat, rice and produce. She was in a hurrry to get home.

...But then she had stopped midstride suddenly.

She wasn't sure what inspired her to, wasn't sure if it was the way the street lights above her suddenly began to kick on and reflected off the gleaming glass to her right. Maybe it had been her own reflection, as she turned to study herself as if she had never seen herself before. Her blue eyes, though as exhausted as always, seemed more vibrantly fulfilled. The lines around her mouth didn't seem as deep, as if her lips had always been downturned and she never realized it til she wasn't doing it anymore.

She leaned closer to the glass, examining this stranger who was all too familiar before her.

I look so much more like Kikyo when I'm unhappy.

The thought was unsettling, yet true. She experimentally let her lips curve downward just the slightest, hooding her lids as if a heavy sadness laid there. The image came to life.

Before her lived Kikyo.

She frowned and huffed, turning away from her impromptu mirror in disgust. That she was still comparing herself to a deceased woman-may she rest in peace was her mental addage- was despicable. She was about to leave altogether until she realized what laid beyond the glass on display.

There were books. Special books, and one book the most special of them all.

"Chronicles of the Dog of the Moon, Vol. 1. Yamamoto D.," Kagome murmured to herself in disbelief, hardly able to comprehend that she had stumbled oh-so-innocently upon such a treasured find. Grinning madly to herself, she made a lightning fast dash into the store and bought the book with the rest of her tip money without another thought.

A reckless purchase, especially after her lack of furniture? She supposed so. But this was a luxury she would allow herself to submerge in.

And there she was, turning past the the first few pages of the editor's notes after she had started her stir fry and set it on the lowest setting possible... in case she got too distracted and forgot about dinner altogether. Slow cooked dinner done well was better than fast cooked dinner burnt to a crisp, was her theory.

Upon the first page after the editor's notes, her breath stole away. It was the dedication page, and it said simply and straightforward, 'To all those in my memories, and to my children.'

Kagome half choked, sputtering and coughing as she read and reread the words multiple times. Her eyes watered, in either anger or shock she was not sure, but the words never changed no matter how many times she looked over them.

Since when did Sesshomaru have kids?!

She supposed, in all reality, it was stupid of her to assume he had never settled down. Still, she managed to find herself mildly affronted. Especially since they were supposed to have a date the next evening.

Snorting indignantly, she steeled herself to the knowledge that things had definitely changed in five hundred years and it would be ignorant, if not grossly naive, to assume otherwise.

People don't just freeze frame, Kags. Seriously, you of all people should know that.

And thus, Kagome began her journey inward and she read the script Sesshomaru had carefully crafted from his very own memories.


Some told him his birth signified he was a remarkable man, destined for greatness and conquest. He was birthed on a lunar eclipse, at the hour when the moon reached the highest in the sky.

And for a time, he believed them. He believed every word of greatness breathed into his ear, striking within him a vanity and pride that far outweighed any matter in the world he had known. Yet he felt it deserved, earned even, for he was nothing short of the perfection he strived to attain with his own blood and sweat.

Yet his soul was of a great inu spirit that could not be controlled so easily--- he fell many times to such mortal vices he often vehemently denied ever experiencing.

Fury, a fire that burned within him, not allowing any grievances to his ego.

Sorrow, a cold wind that blew through him, regret that such ego allowed him to make mistakes.

Hatred, the shocking burst of lightning that ignited him into battle.

Fear, that rooted him to the ground and did not allow him to move forward in his life.

Apathy, the ice that froze his heart and made him unfeeling to the plight of others, especially those that should have mattered most to him.

If only the man he was and the spirit within him had managed to obtain peace at once, then together perhaps they could have overcome the obstacles that eventually led to the downfall of all those involved with him.

But that is the difference of the story of what is, and what isn't.

And the story of the Dog of the Moon is the story of what is.


Kagome stared blankly at the end of the page, as a feeling of trepidition washed over her. Was this right of her? She felt almost as if she were reading his personal journal, as if it were taboo what she was doing. She turned the book over tenderly, smoothing her hand over the back cover. She wondered if she wasn't just being paranoid.

The sound of her timer going off cause her to start suddenly as she let a terrified,"Eep!" come undignified from her mouth. The book went flying from her hands, and she scrambled to catch it as if it were glass sailing through the air and she were afraid it would shatter upon its landing. Her hand outstretched, she felt the tips of her fingers brush against the light feathery pages as it soared beyond her grasp and landed softly on the carpet.

She gave a sharp inhalation of breath, as if she expected something to happen, Yet the world did not cease when it fell, and Sesshomaru did not show up to hit her over the back of the head for dropping his book. For a few long moments, she stared at the thing, as if awaiting it to grow a pair of fangs and run up to bite her in offense for having dropped something so precious.

Rolling her eyes, knowing she was being ridiculous, she stood and went to tend to her dinner. She stirred it slowly, letting her eyes become unfocused as the world blurred. It was easier to think when she didn't have to pay attention to any one thing.

And yet, at the edges of her mind...

She peeked out of the corner of one eye, between the shade of her lashes... and there laid the shadowy figure of the book just mocking her.

The only solitary proof someone remembers besides me.

And inexplicably, she turned on her heel the moment that thought entered her mind. She found herself being drawn to that stupid object, and she picked it up; even found herself cuddling it to her chest as if in apology. If Sesshomaru saw her now, she almost knew what he'd say. His mocking tone, that snide way he teased her...

If you love that book so much, why don't you marry it?

Frowning, Kagome crossed her eyes from the sudden ridiculousness of the thought. It sounded much more mature in her head before she had actually listened to it. Chuckling, she realized she failed at being very Sesshomaru-like, and supposed that was for the better. The world didn't need more than one Sesshomaru. Turning her head to the digital clock in her kitchen, she gasped as she realized the time.

12: 02 a.m. Crap, I have an early class in the morning and I let the food cook so long on low it's barely edible...

Sighing dismally, Kagome took the pan directly off the stove and shoved it in the fridge. She was sure when Souta made his weekly random visit, he would be more than happy to eat her less-than-edible food. She shuddered as she remembered the way the kid had a cast iron stomach, and could digest arsenic and ask for seconds without knowing any better.

She turned her weary gaze to her homework, threw her hands up in the air with the book still clasped in one palm, giving a to hell with it all gesture and made her way to her bedroom without any other concerns for the evening.


"Kagome, why do you look so beat?" Yuka asked in genuine concern, gazing at her through the steam of her coffee. Kagome didn't bother to return the look, merely preoccupied herself with the depths of her would-you-like-some-coffee-with-your-cream latte. She had fifteen minutes til she had to leave for class, as it was six thirty in the morning, and the last thing she expected was to run into Yuka at their mutual favorite coffee joint.

Though she supposed, that thought was an oxymoron. She grimaced at the realization, feeling a tab bit foolish.

Blowing her bangs out of her face in acquiescence, not bothering to withhold much from her not so close friend as she assumed Eri had spilled the beans on how her weekend had gone anyway.

"I nearly got fired yesterday. I was late, again," Kagome muttered dismally, covering up the butt end of her statement with a particularly long sip of her so-called latte. But as usual, her perceptive friends did not miss much, no matter how low she had grumbled under her breath.

"Oh, were you still suffering that hangover? Damn, Kagome, you need to take better care of yourself. I'm serious. Eri and I are worried about you, and we just want you to be ok..." Yuka didn't look at her as she said it, instead she watched the way her fingers nervously twiddled around the edges of her own coffee cup. Kagome watched her fidget and sighed, reaching over with one hand and putting it on her friend's shoulder. The action seemed to startle Yuka, who raised her wide eyes to Kagome quickly.

"Listen, Yuka, I really appreciate the concern. I really do. But I'll be ok... I'm feeling better, so you guys don't need to worry. Ok?" She tried to smile in a way that was convincing, and it seemed to work for her own credit, for Yuka was soon smiling back a tight yet relieved smile.

"Ok... if you say so. Just promise me, you'll talk to one of us if you're feeling that bad again? Preferably before it gets that bad," Yuka joked feebly, knowing in all likeliness Kagome would probably never turn to her for that sort of comfort. Though she had matured quite a bit over time, Yuka's teenage years of stubbornness and sticking her own nose in situations she never truly understood to begin with had strained their relationship. Though Eri had agreed with Yuka in the beginning about Kagome's relationship with Inuyasha, Eri had been there for her during her emotional break down when she had lost Inuyasha. Yuka herself had told Kagome it was better since he was two-timer anyway, not taking her heartbreak too seriously and letting the incident ride over at a highschool crush gone bad.

And oh, how wrong she had been. She never would have imagined Kagome would still have been carrying that torch for all those years. How could she?

Regardless, neither of her nor Eri knew truly what had happened to Inuyasha all those years ago, and they had never asked again after they saw how it affected her. Still, Yuka wondered, but she kept her questions to herself as she was sure they were unwelcome. Yuka's attention was refocused when Kagome went to embrace her suddenly, and Yuka gasped, unused to Kagome's close affection.

"Thank you Yuka. I really am grateful for our friendship," Kagome was saying, and just as quickly as the short and shallow hug had been, it was ending. Yuka felt the moisture in her eyes and blinked tightly to allieveate them, smiling genuinely at the friend she really and truly missed, saying, "Of course Kagome, it's no problem! What are friends for?"

And Kagome was smiling back, brightly, a true smile. One she hadn't seen in ten years, and Yuka felt something inside her lighten at the sight.

"I agree. Oh crap, sorry Yuka, I gotta go. My class is about to start!" Kagome waved carelessly at her, still smiling, and Yuka stood there for long minutes after she had left... Also still smiling contentedly to herself as she sipped her coffee in the dark morning.


"The Dog of the Moon was named Masaru. His name was victory, for he was never to loose. He was the prince son of an old God, who had died in a battle with a great and terrible Dragon Lord in the first  dozen centuries of the land of the rising sun. His great and terrible father disapproved of Masaru's path, that of Supreme Conquest, and on the eve of the half human son his father had borne of a hime, he lost his life.

Masaru grieved where no eyes could see, and no ears could hear, within the dwelling of his own heart. But lest sorrow overcome him, instead he allowed rage like no other to burn within him, hatred of the kin that stripped him of his sire; which was his steadfast belief unturnable by no mortal voice.

From then he became Lord over the lands of the West, a great and terrible ruler at once, and all who lived within his domain trembled before his power. Bequeathed unto him was a sword of revival, of healing, and he felt bested by his brother whom was no more than a babe.

Masaru's mother was an old Goddess as well, whom ruled a kingdom in the sky, and she felt little love for any else except her son. She was a woman of strange interests and queer vices, yet she bore malice for none. From her Masaru learned apathy, a lack of compassion for those lesser. And yet her kindness toward him instilled within him the seed, the capability to learn of love. But it took many centuries for this to nourish and sprout into something tangible, and only through the arrival of his first daughter- a curious and orphaned human girl of eight summers- did he learn. He--

"Kagome Higurashi, are you paying attention?" she heard a sharp voice cut through her mind, causing her spine to stiffen ramrod straight as she answered loudly, "Yes!" Her sensei eyed her suspiciously and turned back to the blackboard to continue the lecture, as if in clear disbelief but letting one of her best students slide for her inattention.

Kagome couldn't help herself... the story was almost poetry, it was captivating her and drawing her into his own world. She felt the pull of her orbs back down to the book lying innocently between the folds of her textbook, and she shut her eyes to avoid the tempation.

She promised herself, once the day was over, she would indulge in his own reality to her fancy. She skimmed over bits and portions as the day drew on, lecture after lecture, boring hour after hour, until finally...

She was free to go home.

She didn't remember the walk to the bus stop, she didn't remember settling herself on the bus, nor the fiften minute stroll to her flat. Her nose was buried parallel to the spine of the book, page after page drowning her in the essence of his life. As far as she could tell, this story was the story of his past. Wars with other clans, political backstabbing, a tale of hardship in a court of thieves and liars and managing to out manuver them all.

If anything, the book was a testament to his wit. Besides the first chapter, not once again did he mention Rin which made her burn in her confusion. And as she moved through the threshold of her home...

She shut the book, for she was finished.

Turning it back over, she stared at as if it were a great puzzle.

Though amazing, it shared nothing of Naraku, or Inuyasha beyond his birth, or anyone else she deemed relevant. The thought, while she realized was shallow, also had valid point. Didn't that battle mean much to him as well? Wasn't that such a dire period of time, where all of Japan may have fell into darkness and despair at the hands of the dark hanyou?

Kagome squinted at the title of the book, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Volume One..." and as realization dawned on her, she facepalmed. Of course there would be more than one book. How freaking old was the guy? He had said in the first chapter that Inuyasha was born in the twelth or thirteenth century, she couldn't remember... and by then he had been an adult.

The thought made her eyes swirl and she forced herself to sit at the realization the guy had been alive and almost fully a Lord by the year 1200. Sighing, she slid the book across the top of the dining room table in reverence. Unfortunately, the next volume would have to wait until she got
more tips but...

She bit her lip and stretched, staring out at the late afternoon sun that streamed through her windows. She tipped the back legs of her chair on the edge, giving a curling yawn at the same time. School was much more exhausting than it had any right to be, and she was ready to sleep again.

It seemed to be the only thing she was interested in lately.

Besides that, the day had been remarkably quiet. Looking down at her phone, she lifted it up and flicked it open. Strange enough, Sesshomaru had not text her all day. Neither had he text her last night. Frowning, she mentally calculated the last time they had spoken.

It had been at around 10:30 in the morning the day before. It was a record! Though, if she would admit to herself (which she would not), she would say that she was somewhat disappointed. She was beginning to get used to their little banter, and daresay even comfortable with it. The thought in and of itself was disconcerting and Kagome shook her head.

She definitely needed a nap.

Closing her phone, she delicately placed it on the table. With determination, she stood up and left it there. Glaring at it a moment, she walked to her bedroom and shut the door.

The dining room remained blissfully quiet for the most part. Kagome could tell that much through her door.

...Moments later, as if on cue, her phone went off with a series of small chimes.

Without premise, she flung her door open and jogged to her phone.

Checking the screen, she realized it was a text from Sesshomaru, she released a breath she didn't realize she had been holding...

....And she smiled.


A/n: I actually really enjoyed writing this chapter. I hope you all don't find it dull D:. Please R&R<3 Ily guys. You's the best.



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