In Retrospect Chapter 1: Red Umbrella, an inuyasha fanfic

C. Mushroom Says: Hello all! I know it's been a long while since I've posted anything, but here's another addition to the SessKik fandom (is it still alive?).

So this here story is pretty short, by my standards anyway. It's only going to run for a few chapters (maybe 3?). It's already completely finished, I just need to sort out this massive word document into chapters and edit the crap out of it. So yeah, no need to worry about long waits for updates. I've learned my lesson – I will finish fanfics before I post them.

Now, without any further ado, please enjoy!

Part I

Sesshoumaru had been alive for a long time - the months had turned into years had turned into decades had turned into centuries. Still he lived, still he wandered the earth long after all of those he had once fought alongside with had died. All the humans – Rin and Kohaku and Inuyasha's companions – had all died after a short human life, which he had expected (although the death of Rin had impacted him even so). He had outlived his retainer, Jaken, and even his much younger half-brother, Inuyasha, whom Sesshoumaru attributed a shortened lifespan to his half-human heritage.

The year was twenty-thirteen and Sesshoumaru lived. He was one of the few remaining daiyoukai of his times, or maybe the last – he didn't know, he didn't keep in touch. His hair was cut short, the once resplendent silver hue now a shine-less black thanks to decades of dying it. The markings on his face that once demonstrated his proud heritage – the crescent moon and the magenta stripes – were gone, forced out of existence by a demon witch, all for the sake of appearing "human". He despised the practice, really, humanizing himself so that he wouldn't stand out, to hide his true identity. But the era of demons had gone. It had been replaced by human governments and advanced technology – the human population had increased exponentially while the demon population had dwindled. Human takeover had been inevitable. Sesshoumaru was no fool, he knew he had only three options: assimilate or live out in the wild or die. He had for a time considered living out in the wilderness, away from the ruckus of a teeming human empire, but he had quickly disregarded the idea, for Sesshoumaru liked power too much. In the wilderness, he would only be king of himself, but in the human world, he could still hold a fair share of power, could still control people at his will; yes, he had still had his wealth, and to humans, wealth was power, and to Sesshoumaru, power was everything.

Often times, the demon lord entertained the notion that he could still obliterate an entire human army, but even he, the great Sesshoumaru, doubted its veracity. (Even a demon would be helpless against a nuclear weapon, he knew, but he refused to accept).

Too lost in thoughts of an eventful past, Sesshoumaru set his book down – a popular Swedish novel his secretary had once swore was the best book she'd ever read. The foreign words blurred every time he attempted to read it. He didn't know whether it was his dusty understanding of Swedish to blame for his disinterest in the novel or his more worrisome inability to focus on anything but recalling his past. He feared becoming the typical senile old man – stuck in a world that had long since passed.

It was the voice of the café barista that brought him out from his intense cogitation. The young woman set a steaming styrofoam cup of coffee on his table, giving him a flirtatious wink. "Brought it to your table just for you." She smiled at him.

"Thanks." He grumbled, making sure to give her one of his characteristics frowns. Catching his disinterested, if not mean-spirited, gesture, the girl's face dropped and she made her way back to her station in shame.

"He's so handsome, but what a jerk!" Sesshoumaru's superior ear caught the café employee whisper to her fellow coworker. The demon in disguise inwardly rolled his eyes in disgust. To think that such a plain Jane like her could think that she was of the same caliber as he, the great Sesshoumaru, was an insult to his never-wavering pride. He scoffed as he turned his attention to the unsweetened black coffee, taking a haphazard sip. (His pain receptors were much more resistant than a human's).

"I don't eat human food." Sesshoumaru recalled he had once said to Rin once. It was a vague recollection of an impertinent memory, but the irony amused him. What would Rin think? Her awfully picky demon lord taking delight in sipping a very human beverage! Who would have guessed even the proudest of demons would one day succumb to the human diet? He smirked in a cynical manner.

"Kikyou, your order is ready!"

And at the name, Sesshoumaru almost spit out the bitter substance that sloshed around in his mouth. Almost.

"Thank you." He heard a familiar willowy voice reply.

His eyed widened further when the owner of the voice sauntered over into his line of sight, setting her cup of coffee – a chai latte, if his sense of smell was correct – as well as a thick book on the self-service countertop. Raven hair, fair skin, dark eyes, delicate facial features – if his vision was to be trusted, she was indeed one and the same. The miko Kikyou.

But how could it be?

"Kikyou" left before Sesshoumaru could fully analyze her scent, and he was left to ponder whether his aging mind was playing tricks on him. His eyesight, however, fell upon the heavy book that the obsidian-haired ghost of the miko had left so absently on the counter. Finishing his own drink, the former demon lord took the book from the counter. Compilation of Japanese Fairytales and Folklore, it read, and despite the musty smell of moldy pages that accompanies most old books, Sesshoumaru caught a waft of fresh lavenders. He made his way to the same barista he had previously rejected.

"That girl that just left," Sesshoumaru began, "she left this."

"Oh, I can take that. She's a regular. Always comes at the same time. I'll give it back." She replied, trying to disguise the earlier hurt as best as she could.

"No." Sesshoumaru decided, "I'll give it back myself." The girl's already dejected expression fell further.

"Way to add more salt to the wound." She mouthed. Sesshoumaru had caught it, but said nothing as he tucked the forgotten book neatly underneath his arm along with the Swedish novel he had neglected to concentrate on.

It wasn't until nightfall, when he was alone in his simply, but luxuriously decorated penthouse apartment that the demon began to inspect the hardcover book "modern Kikyou" had left behind.

Tucked into the pages was a homemade bookmark, laminated with "To Kikyou, the best sister ever," written in a childish scrawl.

"So I heard correctly… Her name is the same." Sesshoumaru spoke as he opened the book to the page the girl had left on. The Youkai: Demonology of Japan was the title of the chapter. Sesshoumaru lifted an incredulous eyebrow. If the girl, the "modern Kikyou", was just a reincarnation, like Kagome, then why did she seek knowledge of so relevant a topic in her past? Was it pure coincidence? He was sure the girl wasn't the actual Kikyou. The scent she left behind was of lavenders. The Kikyou he had known, he recalled, smelled of the dead. Was it a rare occurrence of reincarnation, in which the replica recollected her past? Sesshoumaru was baffled.

He had never spoken to the woman when she had been alive – or rather, undead. All that he knew about her came from rumors whispered to his ear about his whelp of a half-brother and stories Rin had once babbled about. But he was getting older, and his memory was not as sharp as it used to be; Rin's stories of the brave priestess Kikyou had been mostly deleted from the memory bank that held eons of experiences.

That night, Sesshoumaru did not sleep.

The next morning, Sesshoumaru rose from his bed in haste, so as not to miss the raven-haired vestige of his past. He was relieved to find the barista girl he had deemed annoying was not present. Impudent girl, he thought.

Methodically, the taciturn demon ordered the same drink of yesterday – the only drink his demon tongue found even remotely tasteful. He unraveled the day's newspaper and waited, feeling almost as a cat that awaits its prey.

"Hello there, Kikyou. How might I help you today?"

"Hello. Iced coffee, please." Kikyou replied, her tone polite and proper, handing the cashier the money before the price was even stated. "By any chance, would you happen to know if a book was found here yesterday?"

"A book? No, no books were in the lost and found today. I'm sorry." The boy who worked as the cashier apologized. "I hope you find it!" Kikyou did not reply, but Sesshoumaru guessed she must have smiled in return. It wasn't long before she received her beverage and took her characteristic silken strides towards the self-service counter. It was then that the demon lord made his advance.

"Excuse me." Sesshoumaru drawled, the deepness of his voice startling her and causing her to drop a full packet of sugar into the iced drink. Funny, he thought, he had never taken her as the clumsy type. That had always seemed more… Kagome-ish.

"Yes?" Kikyou regained her composure, turning round to face the statuesque Sesshoumaru. The girl was not short, but she had to tilt her head upwards to examine her interrupter.

"You left this here yesterday." Sesshoumaru wasted no time in beating around the bush; he handed her the ancient volume without any further ado.

"Oh, why thank you." The fawn-eyed girl brandished him a small smile of gratitude as she tucked the book away in the recesses of her tanned-green messenger bag. From the look of her, Sesshoumaru deduced this Kikyou of the future was a college student. "You didn't have to go through so much trouble. You could have given it to the employees, sir." She tacked on the formality at the end, as if just registering the faux-man was a handful of years her senior.

"But I didn't." Sesshoumaru replied in his usual manner – dry and monotone. The young woman did not react to his tone. Whether it was because she was too relieved that her book had been returned to her or because she sincerely did not care was uncertain to Sesshoumaru; her face was as unreadable as his.

"Well, I thank you once again, sir," She added the honorific again, "But I'm running late." And with a quick little bow, the girl was off, her long tresses flowing behind her like an inky black cape. Sesshoumaru was left to stare after her in bemusement.

The rest of the day Sesshoumaru spent visualizing the priestess of the past – slayer of Inuyasha, rescuer of Rin, holy guardian of the Shikon Jewel. When he closed his eyes, he saw the undead shell of a once living woman. He saw her billowing white haori sleeves and her loose red hakama flowing in the direction of the wind; her tied hair flapping like a majestic black flag. He saw the wooden bow as long as her body held firmly in her hand; he saw her dark eyes shimmering once upon a time. But he found himself questioning such sharp details. He had only fleetingly thought of the late priestess Kikyou throughout his lifetime. In fact, until he had met her modern copy – for not even Kagome, the original reincarnation of the original Kikyou had been so perfectly replicated – he had only had a vague recollection of what she had actually looked like. The memory of people from his past was often murky, especially if he had not interacted much with them. But after speaking with the reincarnation, he could picture every mundane physical detail pertaining to the legendary woman of old.

In his sleep that night, he dreamt of memories that had until then remained buried under hundreds and hundreds of years.

"Lord Sesshoumaru, you're back!" A child chirped as she ran, arms open as if to fly, towards an imposing white-clothed man.

"Rin." The man greeted the child as she circled around him, arms still spread open in joy and excitement.

"Watch out, you little bugger!" A green little imp next to Sesshoumaru squawked as the girl sent his cap reeling back from an accidental smack of her hand.

"Oops, sorry!" Rin half-giggled, half-apologized, stopping her antics to give a little curtsy to her esteemed demon lord. "Lord Sesshoumaru, Rin has much to tell you!"

"Rin, it is 'I'. 'I have much to tell you,'" Sesshoumaru corrected, his tone firm, but gentle – an unusual manner of speaking for the regal demon, as anybody who was an acquaintance of the lord of the west would tell you.

"Oh, sorry milord. Ri- I mean, I, am trying my hardest to learn!" The little girl tripped over her words. Sesshoumaru nodded in approval, causing the girl to give him a toothy smile.

"Hi big brother!" Sesshoumaru heard his "sister-in-law", if she could be referred to that way, call out to him. He could see her off in the distance, waving at him from behind Inuyasha. Sesshoumaru scowled at the girl's familiarity, but nevertheless said nothing.

"Lady Kaede says Kagome will one day be just as strong as Lady Kikyou." Rin informed her caretaker. "Lady Kikyou was amazing!"

"I used to hear that demons lived in fear of her." Jaken contributed, "Hard to imagine her ditzy reincarnation will live up to that reputation."

"Lady Kaede says Kagome still has a long ways to go." Rin laughed, "She said Lady Kikyou was very wise and that she could slay hordes of demons with a single arrow! But she was also very kind. She played with the children all the time and she helped the elderly and she treated wounded soldiers and tended to the sick and all without looking for repayment! Oh, I wish I could have met her!" Rin babbled. Sesshoumaru's eyes fell upon the young Kagome carrying a basket of herbs into a hut with Inuyasha trailing behind her like an obedient puppy. He wondered what connection the highly-esteemed priestess Kikyou had with his dimwit younger brother. "I want to be like her!" Rin proclaimed with determination.

"Sit!" Kagome screeched and Inuyasha splatted from afar.

But then again, Sesshoumaru probably did not want to know what his brother's previous relationships were like.

"Oh, Sesshoumaru," A wizened Kaede addressed the demon lord that stepped through her door.

"Rin."

"Lord Sesshoumaru, how nice of you to visit!" A delighted, fourteen-year-old Rin greeted, on her face the warmest of smiles. Sesshoumaru remained silent, not sure of how to handle the scene he beheld. Little Rin was not wearing the usual lavish kimonos that her generous benefactor provided her with. The young girl was wearing the traditional priestess garb – the plain white haori paired with the red hakama.

"Rin, what are you wearing?" Jaken was the one to speak his master's thoughts.

"I'm sorry for not saying so earlier, my lord. But I've decided to become Lady Kaede's apprentice. I'm going to be a priestess!" The girl explained. "Are you not pleased, Lord Sesshoumaru?"

The truth was that he wasn't pleased. Being a priestess was a dangerous profession, one that could result in death – a death that Sesshoumaru could not save Rin from if it occurred. Tenseiga had a limit, and he did not wish to lose the girl again at a young age. Would she rather not be a normal girl and marry? He voiced this thought to the maiden, and even assured her that if she would choose that path he'd take measures to ensure the girl had a deserving suitor.

"As of right now, lord Sesshoumaru, I want to help people. I want to be a great priestess, like Ladies Kaede, Kagome, and Kikyou." The girl declared with a maturity Sesshoumaru had not known the she possessed. "I would be a good priestess! And I would make people understand not all demons and half-demons are bad. Besides, someone needs to take over Kagome's position when she marries Inuyasha and has his children!"

"I suppose you've made your choice then. To stay here?"

"There's such a thing as a travelling priestess, you know? My sister was one." Kaede intervened.

"Yes, after she was dead for fifty years." Sesshoumaru retorted, but at Rin's pleading face, his scowl subsided.

Sesshoumaru rose to the sound of a caterwauling alarm clock and groaned in displeasure. It was a rare event that it went off – he usually awoke before the damned thing could wail at him; the alarm clock was only a precaution. He guessed his late rising was mostly due to the fact his usual dreamless slumber had turned into a marathon of memories. Sesshoumaru, with a perfect scowl across his face, somehow still managed to make turning off an alarm clock an artistic endeavor.

Annoyed and in a sour mood, the demon lord of old set out about his day.

As he had expected, Sesshoumaru did not encounter the future Kikyou at the coffee shop. To his puzzlement, that fact had further increased his bad humor, much to the dismay of his fretful, mouse-like secretary, who cowered away from her boss when she saw the nasty frown on his face upon his entering. On days when he carried such an expression on his handsome features, the secretary had noticed he liked to growl and bark impossible orders at her. She cringed.

Much to the relief of the poor secretary, Sesshoumaru left his office early. His insufferable mood had since calmed down – the visions of the dark-haired priestess and his once-upon-a-time ward that had plagued him the entire night had faded from his mind. But the world would not bear him so much mercy, for as soon as he stepped out of the building that housed his office and into the rain-soaked streets; he caught a glimpse of a bright red umbrella and sorrowful eyes gazing at him in surprised recognition. It was Kikyou. He stared back unabashedly.

She was alone, waiting at the bus stop, the umbrella at her side shining brightly against a sea of grey, her hair hanging free, soaking wet against her pale cheeks. If she had an umbrella, why was she so soaked? Without quite thinking his actions through, Sesshoumaru stepped towards her direction, ignoring the flashing hand on the streetlight that warned him time had run out to cross. Sesshouaru's eyes never left hers, even when the cacophony of honking made hers steer away from him and towards the incoming traffic. He heard her gasp.

"I don't mean to sound rude, but," The girl paused as he reached her, "are you crazy?"

Normally, Sesshoumaru would punish such gall with a mordant remark, but he found he could not give her any reprimand. Had he been crazy? At the moment he crossed the street, the black tar of the road had turned into a verdant field, the streetlights into tall trees, the skyscrapers in front of him into the wall of a menacing cliff, and he had not been in his coat and suit; no, in that moment when he had crossed, he had been Sesshoumaru-sama, esteemed demon lord of the Western Lands, not Sesshoumaru-san, business impresario, savvy investor, and capable lawyer. The dreams of the night had come back to haunt him in his waking hours.

"Are you? You're soaked." He finally admonished, pointing towards the closed umbrella held tightly in her hand, "Use it." Instead of offering a verbal explanation, the woman unfurled her umbrella to life, demonstrating that the tool had become inverted. Inexplicably, the mangled thing reminded him of Inuyasha. "That seems like it would happen to Kagome, not you."

"What?"

"Nevermind." Sesshoumaru immediately regretted his actions. He had come to her, but why? There was nothing he could say to her. She was Kikyou, but she was not Kikyou. And even then, Kikyou had never held any importance to him before – why should she now?

"You're the man from the café." She noted.

"You knew that before." Sesshoumaru pointed out, "Before I even crossed." He had seen her eyes widen in recognition when he had emerged through the doors of the office building across the street.

"I beg your pardon, sir?"

"It's Sesshoumaru." He stated, earning a bewildered expression from Kikyou, "My name."

"That's a strange name."

"As is Kikyou."

"I'm sorry, sir –"

"Sesshoumaru."

"I'm sorry, Sesshoumaru," Kikyou spoke his name sharply, "But who are you? And how is it that you know my name?"

Temporarily disarmed, Sesshoumaru didn't quite know how to reply. I knew your past self, was not a very feasible answer, at least not to a modern college-aged female. "The employees called out your name. I have ears." He mustered up a believable-enough answer.

"Ah, so you do." Kikyou spoke, still dubious but allayed for the moment. "I guess we're both trying to catch the same bus?" She softened her tone.

"No." He replied and silence ensued. It occurred to him that perhaps the girl thought him strange; after all, he was breaking several rules of human interaction. But he wasn't human and he had never cared for the opinions of others anyway. "I have a car," he interrupted the silence between them, "I could take you to your home." He offered. Again, he had acted on impulse and again he had immediately regretted it.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but no, thank you." She politely declined.

"Smart girl." Sesshoumaru accepted her rejection with grace, "That is usually the wiser choice."

"The way you say that; it sounds as if you had planned to hurt me. Should I be wary of you now?" She asked, a hint of wry jest lacing her willowy timbre.

"Perhaps." Sesshoumaru replied as a shadow of a smirk played on his face. As a bus neared into view, Sesshoumaru spoke again, "Join me for coffee tomorrow." He commanded, rather than asked and handed her the forgotten black umbrella in his hand. "Take it." He again ordered, and without any further words, left her, dumbstruck and confused.

That night, he again dreamed of silver-haired demons, of crimson robes worn by a bastard brother, of swords welded from fangs, of green-toad retainers, of dark-haired priestesses, of a bright red umbrella.

Author's Notes: Thank you for reading! A new chapter shall be posted in the next few days. It'd be nice to receive feedback! A writer cannot evolve if he or she does not receive feedback.