The day of her burial should have been grey and bleak, a fitting tribute to a world without her in it. Instead, the sky was the clearest it had been in months; blue and filled with sounds of spring shimmering and gasping to life in every direction. She would have been pleased… after all, clear spring days had been Rin's favorite, but the daiyokai could not help but feel as though he was being mocked. Not so very long ago a day like this would have been filled with the scent of flowers and her hair, perhaps another odd song of her own creation but now the stench of upturned earth surrounded him.
Sesshomaru felt anger bubble up from the pit of his stomach. How dare it come now, only just too late for her to experience it one last time. Hadn't she loved spring most of all? If any deserved to have a day such as this, it was her. But there were no more springs to be had, and despite having known for many years this day would come, he found himself shockingly unprepared for it.
A small tug at his sleeve brought him from his thoughts and pushed the sick taste at the back of his throat away for a moment. He craned his neck down to look at the small figure next to him, clad in a back mourning kimono that contrasted too starkly her coloring. She had inherited her mother's wild, untamable hair, though the color resembled his own pale silver.
"Papa." she squeaked, increasing her grip on his sleeve. "Papa, why?"
He looked at her, uncomprehendingly. Why what? He was not a mind reader; he could not possibly be expected to understand such a vague inquiry. He took a measured breath and felt a tickle of shame. He had no natural instinct for children, even his own, and without Rin all he had were his interactions with her as a child to guide him.
"Why are they putting mama in the earth?"
Sesshomaru felt as though a great blow had been dealt to him squarely in the chest.
"Papa? Why? Make them stop!" she pleaded, tears bubbling up before Sesshomaru could hope to quell them.
He looked back at the fresh grave before kneeling down, resting his large palm on his daughter's cheek. Her tearful eyes were so like her mother's, large and expressive, and it twisted something inside of him.
"Your mother..."
Is dead, his mind finished crudely. It was the truth, was it not? Despite his best efforts, despite all his power, the great and terrible Lord Sesshomaru could do nothing to sustain his mortal girl's life beyond its natural expectancy. He had tried. He'd scoured his lands, the country and even ventured to the mainland in search of something that might prolong her life, even by a small amount. He'd offered riches, power, and land to anyone who could bring him such a tool. Unbeknownst to her, perhaps, as he knew she had somehow accepted her fleeting life long ago, but not a day had gone by that he had not searched for something, anything to keep her in this world, with him, longer; not since the day she had died a second time. It was the first time he had been forced to confront mortality, though not his own. But it had been his own downfall, too. For a while, a small part of him had considered himself a god with tenseiga at his side. Hadn't he been called the perfect demon? He sneered inwardly. The realization that Sesshomaru, himself, was finally powerless against a foe had been a deep blow indeed. It had been the driving reason behind his leaving her in the village, needlessly wasting time, for so long; his quiet, desperate need to protect her from his own weakness. Hadn't he been her demon savior, after all? Always watchful, always present when he was needed, whether she had called for him or not?
No. He was no savior. At the end of things, Rin had been wrong about him after all. If he were truly the man she thought him to be, he would not be here now, painfully alone, trying to explain to their child why she would never see her mother again. A child who would likely never remember her mother's face or know how it resembled her own… a child who deserved a father who could devise something of comfort to say in the face of her grief and confusion. He was no such father without Rin.
"Your mother is not like us." He searched for the words, "She is human."
Was. She was human.
"Humans… do not live as long as we do. It was time for your mother to rest, and she must rest here. Do you understand?" he struggled with each word. Ridiculous! Was such a pitiful explanation al he could manage? Anger bubbled up again and writhed in the pit of his stomach as he turned his eyes again to the grave.
The girl stared up at him for a moment in silence, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "…You mean she's going to turn into flowers?"
Sesshomaru's eyes snapped back to her small, round face. "What?"
She sniffed unceremoniously. Such earnest displays of emotion still caused him discomfort. "Mama told me one day she would go away to become flowers… and if papa and I ever missed her we could go and see the flowers she turned into and talk to them."
Sesshomaru's hand twitched, and his stomach gave a lurch.
Rin.
He had the sudden desire to laugh bitterly. Even after death she had known, known what he and their daughter would need in her absence. He could taste something bitter at the back of his throat as he closed his eyes briefly before turning them back to her fresh grave marker, surrounded by wild flowers. How weak he had become, how dependent on her presence.
"Yes." He drew their daughter into his arms and stood, staring down at the simple stone marker. "Your mother… will become very beautiful flowers."
She sniffed again, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "We will come and visit you soon, mama.." He could smell the tears returning, reaching up to cradle her head in his large palm, his thumb brushing over her temple. The small half-demon girl clung to his neck, gripping the collar of his kimono with all her might.
"Papa…" The great demon's shoulders slumped. He would not dishonor her life, their life, by failing to give their child what she needed, what he now had to provide in Rin's absence. Rin had always said he was a doting father but he had never believed it. It was not lack of love, so much, as lack of understanding. Since her birth he had simply had difficulty… relating to his child. He applied much of the same logic to her as he had to Rin in her childhood, but he could not help feel as though he ought to understand his own offspring better. Rin had assured him it would come with time, always displaying such faith in qualities he was still not sure he truly possessed. And if Sesshomaru did possess such qualities, hadn't it been Rin and Rin alone to draw them from him? What hope was there now that she was gone? Without her he was nothing but a monster, was he not?
He glanced down at the small, pointed silver ears protruding from the head of the girl curled up in his arms.
No. No, he could not allow himself to revert to a beast. It would be the most reprehensible of insults to her memory, to their life.
Perhaps this was Rin's final gift to him, he mused. She had given something precious to every person she had come in contact with in her short life, but more to him than anyone, he admitted privately. She braved his hatred, suffered his indifference and buried herself in his heart where she planted the tiniest seed of compassion and, dauntless, nurtured it. Sesshomaru would not allow it to go untended.
His thoughts were broken again by a hiccup from the little body against him. "I am sorry, papa."
"Do not apologize." He said, reaching down and resting a hand atop the stone marker. "Your tears will help the flowers grow."