Silk.
Sesshoumaru fingered the garment, paying no heed to the idiots fleeing in terror around him. Soft shades of blue danced under his fingertips. Soft silken threads ran, climbing up then twirling, around and around, forming flowers that spread their petals up, up into a sea of cerulean cloth. It was a mysterious bouquet of exquisite flowers- tiny stitches disappearing then blossoming, taking form and shape. Made of the finest materials, the kimono was beautiful. Made by the most talented of humans only to be stolen by the most corrupt
It would have to do.
He gave a nod of approval to Jaken. Securing the kimono under his arm, Sesshoumaru exited the pitiful excuse of a building. Such finery, trapped within such a miserable dwelling of human thieves. As he walked away, Jaken eagerly approached the wooden structure with the staff of heads in hand. Behind him, Sesshoumaru could hear the sizzle and crackle of flames engulfing the building. Screams begging for mercy, deliverance- a quicker death- from various higher beings rang out behind him.
Foolish humans.
He was the one that had sent them to their deaths, the only with one whom they could plead for mercy. They were such puerile creatures, these humans. There was no superior being waiting for them beyond the darkness of the night sky. Nothing awaited them except the tortures of hell.
There would be no salvation for them.
His sensitive nose wrinkled with distaste. The foul odor of burning human flesh seized control of his senses. It was a scent that reeked with emotion and feeling. It writhed with their pain, coming to life as he inhaled it. He breathed in the stench, filling his lungs with their agony. And then gradually the screams subsided and nothing else remained except the heavy, thick scent of death in the air. The smell of death fell flat around him. Gone were the previous sensations of fear and pain.
Dead.
All the suffering and desperation replaced by the faint echo of damned souls.
Jaken scampered up to him, waiting vainly for praise.
The scent of death was so bitter.
Against his better judgement, Sesshoumaru turned around to survey the massacre behind him.
Ashes.
Nothing left of the dead but ashes.
It was a pity.
He had almost considered saving them.
He turned away from the dead and left as Jaken scurried to catch up.
Foolish humans.
***
'Home' again.
Sesshoumaru smirked. The memory of Rin's use of the word was amusing. His eyes flickered to the center of the floor. It was there she had danced with excitement upon entering this place. It was there she had used the word 'home'. There she had beamed at him and thrown her arms around his waist.
"Sesshoumaru-sa-"
"Leave."
Golden eyes spared Jaken a threatening glare. Bobbing his head up and down furiously, Jaken fled, disappearing around a corner.
Sesshoumaru walked through the empty hall. It was an appropriate dwelling for one such as himself. Dark. Cold. Empty. In a strange way, he found it very easy to compare himself to this building. A large complex design filled with a myriad of locked doors he didn't care to open. Some things were meant to be hidden away- thrown into the abyss of old memories.
He turned a corner, finding himself walking down another dark corridor. The sound of his own footsteps echoed lightly in the air. Shadows fled into the corners, clearing a path for him. It was something he was accustomed to- others running at the sight of him, retreating into their own insignificant corners of lives. It was a way of life for one such as himself. Fear was never expected from other people. It was a given.
He stopped. There was of course, one door that existed both within his home and himself. A door that was never locked yet led to the most guarded and hidden place that was his heart.
With two fingers, he easily slid the door open and slipped inside. He cast a glance to his left. On a low table sat a vase filled with pink and yellow wildflowers. He sniffed lightly. They were still fresh- picked not long ago. Absently he wondered where she had picked them. He knew so little of her daytime activities. He moved beyond the flowers and approached the sleeping mat.
It was so strange. Youkai, man and beast alike all cowered in fear of him, the great Sesshoumaru. And yet sleeping innocently before him, in the form of one human girl, was perhaps his only mortality. She lay still underneath a mass of blankets; her only movement the steady rise and fall of her breathing. Of course she would be of the race he detested.
Fate was like that.
He lowered himself to the ground into a sitting position. Rin continued sleeping, undisturbed by his presence. Long strands of dark hair fell around her face, grazing tanned cheeks. Time had continued in its never-ending race and taken the little girl with it, leaving behind a young lady in her stead. But time hadn't taken away her innocent smile or childish nature.
Unbidden, his fingers twitched, aching to brush away the soft tresses from her face. Reflexively, his hand curled into a fist. Claws dug into his palms, inflicting a wound that healed itself before it had a chance to bleed. Her scent that held a hint of the flowers she loved so, overpowered all else. Hers was a scent full of life, one that danced and laughed and sang and cried. And now, as she slept, it was soothing. Calming. His hand relaxed. It was one of the few things he took comfort in.
Often times too much comfort for his own likings.
He took the kimono and carefully laid it out beside her slight sleeping form. He raised himself up from the ground silently, no sound but the imperceptible rustle of his robes. For a brief moment he paused to admire the silken garment as it lay next to the human girl. The two went well together. Satisfied, he turned to leave.
And stopped.
Walked back to her side and knelt. Then very, very gently placed a soft kiss on the smooth skin of her forehead. Dark bangs brushed against his nose, comforting him again with her pleasant scent. He rose once more and left.
But before the door closed, in the darkness of this almost sacred room, a smile formed on a sleeping face. A soft melodious whisper sang its way sweetly to his ear.
"Sesshoumaru-sama…"
He paused, waiting.
"Thank you…"
The door eased softly back into place.
***
Disclaimer: Inuyasha and all of its characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi. Duh.
This story was originally intended to be the beginning of a much darker fic. But somehow it turned into this. -_-;; Not quite sure how that happened but it did. Oh well.
Slight revision as of 05/12/03. Thanks to daniel-gudman for the review and critique.
Re-read and realized Sesshoumaru was OOCish in the beginning. So I did some re-thinking and well, the humans are still dead -_-;; But this time around they're thieves. Heh- not sure how much of a difference that makes but it'll have to stay like that for now. ^_^;;
Comments, critiques, or praises are all greatly appreciated.
-Amethyst