InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ When The Lines Blur ❯ Anguish ( Chapter 5 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Lord Youko 
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst | Type: Shounen-ai | Uploaded On: 03.09.2011 | Pages: 1 | Words: 2.2K | Visits: 263 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst | Type: Shounen-ai | Uploaded On: 03.09.2011 | Pages: 1 | Words: 2.2K | Visits: 263 | Status: Work In Progress
Chapter 5- Anguish
When he walks out of the room, leaving his brother panicked and lonely on the floor, Sesshoumaru‘s pace is leisurely but as soon as he is outside the castle, he transforms into his true form and gallops into the heavens.
The sky is dotted with stars tonight and for anyone looking up at sky from the earth, the daiyoukai would be a shooting star – a white, radiant dot moving swiftly across the night sky.
In a heartbeat, he is over his brother’s camp where his companions have already bedded down for the night. The Taiji-ya and the monk sleep next to each other, though not close enough to touch. The fox is sleeping nearby and the demon cat is curled into her mistress.
Though far off, she senses the daiyoukai’s presence and raises her head quietly, peering up at his white form, high enough to be invisible to the human. Kilala stares at him long enough to ascertain his intentions, then lays her head back on her paws. A silently watching daiyoukai is no threat; the dog demon is too honourable and too proud to attack humans in stealth. Besides, he has no need to.
He has come to see the new miko, the woman who has the shell of the dead priestess but not her soul.
He needed to get away from his brother, from that innocent, heartbreaking face, pleading with him so trustingly. Inuyasha has no reason to trust him, no reason at all to want to be close to him in his time of distress. Yet, ever since he was a child, the boy has followed him about, waiting enthusiastically for any scrap of his affection. He is like an abandoned dog; even when his master kicks him, he returns begging for more abuse.
True, he has protected the brat from the world, but only because it was his duty to do so, as the head of the family, as Inuyasha’s alpha. Did the boy mistake that for affection? He felt nothing for Inuyasha; everything he has done has been so that the hanyou did not soil the honour of the family.
But that does not explain the fury coursing through his veins when he hears the bitch’s name.
Kikyou…
Sesshoumaru lets his gaze rove over the small campsite. The miko, who he has come to see, is nowhere in sight. Her freshest scent leads to the bone-eater’s well. His eyes move to the wooden well, a silent shadow in the night. Her scent ends there but there are no signs of struggle, of a demon dragging her down there.
He glances back at the sleeping humans. They also show no signs of distress. There is no empty, unkempt bed next to them to suggest that she has left during the night. So the girl went down the well of her own free will?
He ascends higher into the sky to escape the lingering scent of cooking fires and human blood and sweat. The air is cooler here and he hovers there allowing his turmoil filled mind to wander as it would. He knows Inuyasha will wait for him. It gives him sadistic pleasure to know that he controls his brother’s will. Inuyasha will not move from where he has left him; he has the boy trained well.
He looks down at the small village and the vast forest surrounding it. The tree where Inuyasha was pinned stands in front of the boneater’s well and he stares at it and wonders what the connection is between Inuyasha’s two miko.
They have different scents. The dead one held a melancholy, decaying scent, even before she was dead, her life broken and remade by years of pain and solitude. The new one smells just the opposite – bright and innocent and brave. She is little more than a child, though she is little younger than the other priestess was when she died. And the way she clings to Inuyasha, with no regard for decorum, not any maidenly qualms. She is a curious mix of brazen slut and clueless child and it angers him.
He wants to thrust his hand inside her chest and rip her heart out but he doesn’t because he is curious. She holds a strange aura about her and he wants to know what she is. What manner of human goes down the boneater’s well of their own free will? Perhaps he will ask his brother sometime.
But he doesn’t like Inuyasha to even speak her name. The girl put a rosary on him, commands him as one would a dog, makes him carry her around as if he were her pack animal and still he cares for her. He knows and understands the bond between the dead priestess and his brother – loneliness and loyalty and awe – but he doesn’t understand Kagome, the child bitch who does not know the ways of either youkai or humans.
There are few things left in the world that puzzle him, one of them being his brother. He will wait and he will learn her secret and the day he does, Kagome will die.
He wonders if Inuyasha will grieve for her the way he does for the other one.
The wind changes direction and brings with it, the faint scent of his brother’s blood. Sesshoumaru frowns thunderously and heads back to the castle. Was Inuyasha foolish enough to injure himself or worse? Has he not made it clear that his life no longer belongs to him?
He transforms into the energy ball and speeds across the sky.
In no time at all, he is at the door of the room where he left Inuyasha. The scent of blood is strong, overpowering, mixed with the scent of tears. He slams the doors open and walks in, to find his brother slumped in the floor. He is still on his knees where he had left him but he is lying in a large puddle of blood. His forearms are red and slashed, bleeding from gashes made by his own claws. There.
He lifts his brother in his arms and heads out the door, away from the room filled with blood and tears. The scent is unpleasant.
___________________________________________________________ ________________
Feeling light shining on his eyes, Inuyasha opens them, eyelids feeling heavy and sore from hours of crying.
The room slowly comes into focus. He is in his brother’s old chambers, lying on his bed.
These used to be Sesshoumaru’s chambers before their father died. Unlike his current chambers, there are no blood-red sheets and ebony bed and dark, heavy colours. This room is coloured in shades of white and blue and light green – the colours of things that are fresh, and bright. Inuyasha has rarely stepped foot in these before because Sesshoumaru himself abandoned them slowly and they fell into disuse, maintained and cleaned, but no longer lived in.
He tries to lift his arms up but finds he doesn’t have the strength. He turns his head to the side slowly and finds Sesshoumaru standing there, still as a statue.
“Ani-“ he begins but is not allowed to finish the word as the next moment, the demon Lord is close and his head snaps to the side as his brother backhands him across the face hard enough to make a small trickle of blood escape from his mouth.
Head reeling from the strike and loss of blood, Inuyasha shuts his eyes tightly, allowing the tears that are forming to escape. He no longer has the strength to control them.
He feels hollow, distant, as if separate from reality, no longer himself. Notions of pride and determination and self-control are distant, no longer a part of himself and he raises a trembling hand to reach for his brother.
“Aniki,” he says, voice small and childlike and trembling.
His weak fingers close around his brother’s long, white haori sleeve and then it slips out of his grasp as Sesshoumaru steps back, not allowing his disobedient brother that small comfort.
He expects some hint of pain to cross Inuyasha’s face at the rejection but the hanyou’s eyes are glassy. He simply looks at him dispassionately.
Sesshoumaru notices that Inuyasha’s body is shivering; he has lost too much blood. That combined with crying the whole night has left him weak and feverish.
“Are you so worthless that you cannot follow even a simple order?” he whispers, staring into those blank eyes, hoping to get a reaction.
Inuyasha doesn’t blink. “Worthless…” he repeats softly.
And Sesshoumaru realizes that the hanyou is too far gone to be reached. The night’s anguish was too much for him. He had not realized the bitch’s death affected him to such an extent. Anger rears its head again, burning and thick but he pushes it back. There will be time enough to punish him when he is himself again.
He stares for a moment at his brother’s shivering body. Warm though the blankets in his bed are, they won’t be enough for the hanyou who is swiftly losing body heat. It would be dangerous if his temperature dropped further. His mind was already weakened, on the edge after the night. But there is a way; the thing that can heal a wound best is what caused it in the first place.
He begins to rid himself of his garments, undoing his obi, then the hakama and the haori.
When he is bare, he throws the covers off Inuyasha and begins to undress him as well. The hanyou sighs at his closeness, at the nimble fingers brushing against his skin, at his brother’s familiar, comforting scent that he can smell so close.
“Sesshoumaru-sama,” he whispers in pleasure and the demon Lord frowns. How hurt was the boy to be delirious and lifeless like this after a mere night of self mutilation?
He lifts the unresponsive boy in his arms and slides into bed, placing Inuyasha in his lap, cradling him in his arms. He draws a warm, thick, soft blanket over the both of them and lies back against the pillows resting Inuyasha’s head against his chest.
Inuyasha curls in on himself, plastering himself as close to his brother as possible, clinging to him with all his might. Then a warm head is on his head, smoothing back his ears, caressing gently and Inuyasha begins to feel safe and drowsy. His aniki is finally here. He is no longer alone; Sesshoumaru doesn’t hate him. He can feel the daiyoukai’s strong heart beating rhythmically, he can smell his musky, exquisite scent, he can feel his warmth soaking into his own shivering, overwhelmed body.
Sesshoumaru stares into the distance, eyes unfocused. How long has it been since he has held his brother like this? The last time, it was when Inuyasha had found Kagome, the strange woman who looked so like the love he had lost and tried for 50 years to get over. Kagome, he said was nothing like Kikyou. Kagome was the hollow shell of the dead priestess, sent from hell to torment him.
Inuyasha had begged to be claimed, to be reminded that this wasn’t one of the endless dreams he had had pinned to that tree, the ones that that seemed so real, until the next one began. The hanyou needed to know that this was real, his love and loss were real, Kikyou was Kikyou, was not Kagome; and that Inuyasha was Inuyasha – the same Inuyasha that the demon Lord had claimed so many times before.
“Oni-sama!” Inuyasha sobbed from under the demon Lord after the older brother had released inside him, keeping himself off the smaller man with his arms on either side of his body.
“Please,” Inuyasha begged. “Stay in me.”
Sesshoumaru stared at the distraught half-demon, shaken from the inside with too much loss and a much too cruel fate that had chosen to dangle the hollow form of what he had lost in front of his eyes.
So, in a moment of kindness, he had acquiesced, covering the smaller form with his, pinning the boy under him with his weight, his hard dick deep, deep inside his brother, giving him the anchor he needed.
Inuyasha stirred in his arms, shuddering briefly, and Sesshoumaru held him closer, allowing his aura to encase him, the dominating energy soothing the hanyou’s instincts, allowing him to relax in order to heal.
Inuyasha’s legs twitched, drawing up on the bed and Sesshoumaru trapped them between his own, weighing them down to quiet the restlessness.
Sleep comes, peacefully this time, bringing with it, much needed rest.
_________________________________________________________________ __________
Converting /tmp/phpdVNi3z to /dev/stdout
When he walks out of the room, leaving his brother panicked and lonely on the floor, Sesshoumaru‘s pace is leisurely but as soon as he is outside the castle, he transforms into his true form and gallops into the heavens.
The sky is dotted with stars tonight and for anyone looking up at sky from the earth, the daiyoukai would be a shooting star – a white, radiant dot moving swiftly across the night sky.
In a heartbeat, he is over his brother’s camp where his companions have already bedded down for the night. The Taiji-ya and the monk sleep next to each other, though not close enough to touch. The fox is sleeping nearby and the demon cat is curled into her mistress.
Though far off, she senses the daiyoukai’s presence and raises her head quietly, peering up at his white form, high enough to be invisible to the human. Kilala stares at him long enough to ascertain his intentions, then lays her head back on her paws. A silently watching daiyoukai is no threat; the dog demon is too honourable and too proud to attack humans in stealth. Besides, he has no need to.
He has come to see the new miko, the woman who has the shell of the dead priestess but not her soul.
He needed to get away from his brother, from that innocent, heartbreaking face, pleading with him so trustingly. Inuyasha has no reason to trust him, no reason at all to want to be close to him in his time of distress. Yet, ever since he was a child, the boy has followed him about, waiting enthusiastically for any scrap of his affection. He is like an abandoned dog; even when his master kicks him, he returns begging for more abuse.
True, he has protected the brat from the world, but only because it was his duty to do so, as the head of the family, as Inuyasha’s alpha. Did the boy mistake that for affection? He felt nothing for Inuyasha; everything he has done has been so that the hanyou did not soil the honour of the family.
But that does not explain the fury coursing through his veins when he hears the bitch’s name.
Kikyou…
Sesshoumaru lets his gaze rove over the small campsite. The miko, who he has come to see, is nowhere in sight. Her freshest scent leads to the bone-eater’s well. His eyes move to the wooden well, a silent shadow in the night. Her scent ends there but there are no signs of struggle, of a demon dragging her down there.
He glances back at the sleeping humans. They also show no signs of distress. There is no empty, unkempt bed next to them to suggest that she has left during the night. So the girl went down the well of her own free will?
He ascends higher into the sky to escape the lingering scent of cooking fires and human blood and sweat. The air is cooler here and he hovers there allowing his turmoil filled mind to wander as it would. He knows Inuyasha will wait for him. It gives him sadistic pleasure to know that he controls his brother’s will. Inuyasha will not move from where he has left him; he has the boy trained well.
He looks down at the small village and the vast forest surrounding it. The tree where Inuyasha was pinned stands in front of the boneater’s well and he stares at it and wonders what the connection is between Inuyasha’s two miko.
They have different scents. The dead one held a melancholy, decaying scent, even before she was dead, her life broken and remade by years of pain and solitude. The new one smells just the opposite – bright and innocent and brave. She is little more than a child, though she is little younger than the other priestess was when she died. And the way she clings to Inuyasha, with no regard for decorum, not any maidenly qualms. She is a curious mix of brazen slut and clueless child and it angers him.
He wants to thrust his hand inside her chest and rip her heart out but he doesn’t because he is curious. She holds a strange aura about her and he wants to know what she is. What manner of human goes down the boneater’s well of their own free will? Perhaps he will ask his brother sometime.
But he doesn’t like Inuyasha to even speak her name. The girl put a rosary on him, commands him as one would a dog, makes him carry her around as if he were her pack animal and still he cares for her. He knows and understands the bond between the dead priestess and his brother – loneliness and loyalty and awe – but he doesn’t understand Kagome, the child bitch who does not know the ways of either youkai or humans.
There are few things left in the world that puzzle him, one of them being his brother. He will wait and he will learn her secret and the day he does, Kagome will die.
He wonders if Inuyasha will grieve for her the way he does for the other one.
The wind changes direction and brings with it, the faint scent of his brother’s blood. Sesshoumaru frowns thunderously and heads back to the castle. Was Inuyasha foolish enough to injure himself or worse? Has he not made it clear that his life no longer belongs to him?
He transforms into the energy ball and speeds across the sky.
In no time at all, he is at the door of the room where he left Inuyasha. The scent of blood is strong, overpowering, mixed with the scent of tears. He slams the doors open and walks in, to find his brother slumped in the floor. He is still on his knees where he had left him but he is lying in a large puddle of blood. His forearms are red and slashed, bleeding from gashes made by his own claws. There.
He lifts his brother in his arms and heads out the door, away from the room filled with blood and tears. The scent is unpleasant.
___________________________________________________________ ________________
Feeling light shining on his eyes, Inuyasha opens them, eyelids feeling heavy and sore from hours of crying.
The room slowly comes into focus. He is in his brother’s old chambers, lying on his bed.
These used to be Sesshoumaru’s chambers before their father died. Unlike his current chambers, there are no blood-red sheets and ebony bed and dark, heavy colours. This room is coloured in shades of white and blue and light green – the colours of things that are fresh, and bright. Inuyasha has rarely stepped foot in these before because Sesshoumaru himself abandoned them slowly and they fell into disuse, maintained and cleaned, but no longer lived in.
He tries to lift his arms up but finds he doesn’t have the strength. He turns his head to the side slowly and finds Sesshoumaru standing there, still as a statue.
“Ani-“ he begins but is not allowed to finish the word as the next moment, the demon Lord is close and his head snaps to the side as his brother backhands him across the face hard enough to make a small trickle of blood escape from his mouth.
Head reeling from the strike and loss of blood, Inuyasha shuts his eyes tightly, allowing the tears that are forming to escape. He no longer has the strength to control them.
He feels hollow, distant, as if separate from reality, no longer himself. Notions of pride and determination and self-control are distant, no longer a part of himself and he raises a trembling hand to reach for his brother.
“Aniki,” he says, voice small and childlike and trembling.
His weak fingers close around his brother’s long, white haori sleeve and then it slips out of his grasp as Sesshoumaru steps back, not allowing his disobedient brother that small comfort.
He expects some hint of pain to cross Inuyasha’s face at the rejection but the hanyou’s eyes are glassy. He simply looks at him dispassionately.
Sesshoumaru notices that Inuyasha’s body is shivering; he has lost too much blood. That combined with crying the whole night has left him weak and feverish.
“Are you so worthless that you cannot follow even a simple order?” he whispers, staring into those blank eyes, hoping to get a reaction.
Inuyasha doesn’t blink. “Worthless…” he repeats softly.
And Sesshoumaru realizes that the hanyou is too far gone to be reached. The night’s anguish was too much for him. He had not realized the bitch’s death affected him to such an extent. Anger rears its head again, burning and thick but he pushes it back. There will be time enough to punish him when he is himself again.
He stares for a moment at his brother’s shivering body. Warm though the blankets in his bed are, they won’t be enough for the hanyou who is swiftly losing body heat. It would be dangerous if his temperature dropped further. His mind was already weakened, on the edge after the night. But there is a way; the thing that can heal a wound best is what caused it in the first place.
He begins to rid himself of his garments, undoing his obi, then the hakama and the haori.
When he is bare, he throws the covers off Inuyasha and begins to undress him as well. The hanyou sighs at his closeness, at the nimble fingers brushing against his skin, at his brother’s familiar, comforting scent that he can smell so close.
“Sesshoumaru-sama,” he whispers in pleasure and the demon Lord frowns. How hurt was the boy to be delirious and lifeless like this after a mere night of self mutilation?
He lifts the unresponsive boy in his arms and slides into bed, placing Inuyasha in his lap, cradling him in his arms. He draws a warm, thick, soft blanket over the both of them and lies back against the pillows resting Inuyasha’s head against his chest.
Inuyasha curls in on himself, plastering himself as close to his brother as possible, clinging to him with all his might. Then a warm head is on his head, smoothing back his ears, caressing gently and Inuyasha begins to feel safe and drowsy. His aniki is finally here. He is no longer alone; Sesshoumaru doesn’t hate him. He can feel the daiyoukai’s strong heart beating rhythmically, he can smell his musky, exquisite scent, he can feel his warmth soaking into his own shivering, overwhelmed body.
Sesshoumaru stares into the distance, eyes unfocused. How long has it been since he has held his brother like this? The last time, it was when Inuyasha had found Kagome, the strange woman who looked so like the love he had lost and tried for 50 years to get over. Kagome, he said was nothing like Kikyou. Kagome was the hollow shell of the dead priestess, sent from hell to torment him.
Inuyasha had begged to be claimed, to be reminded that this wasn’t one of the endless dreams he had had pinned to that tree, the ones that that seemed so real, until the next one began. The hanyou needed to know that this was real, his love and loss were real, Kikyou was Kikyou, was not Kagome; and that Inuyasha was Inuyasha – the same Inuyasha that the demon Lord had claimed so many times before.
“Oni-sama!” Inuyasha sobbed from under the demon Lord after the older brother had released inside him, keeping himself off the smaller man with his arms on either side of his body.
“Please,” Inuyasha begged. “Stay in me.”
Sesshoumaru stared at the distraught half-demon, shaken from the inside with too much loss and a much too cruel fate that had chosen to dangle the hollow form of what he had lost in front of his eyes.
So, in a moment of kindness, he had acquiesced, covering the smaller form with his, pinning the boy under him with his weight, his hard dick deep, deep inside his brother, giving him the anchor he needed.
Inuyasha stirred in his arms, shuddering briefly, and Sesshoumaru held him closer, allowing his aura to encase him, the dominating energy soothing the hanyou’s instincts, allowing him to relax in order to heal.
Inuyasha’s legs twitched, drawing up on the bed and Sesshoumaru trapped them between his own, weighing them down to quiet the restlessness.
Sleep comes, peacefully this time, bringing with it, much needed rest.
_________________________________________________________________ __________
Converting /tmp/phpdVNi3z to /dev/stdout