A/N: This story takes place after episode 9 of The Final Act. This is what happens if Sesshomaru decided it was best to leave Rin at a random village instead of letting her remain with him.

Warning: I'm only going to say this once, this story is dark. There is use of coarse language and violent scenes. Be cautious. Thank you!

Disclaimers: Any characters of Rumiko Takahashi's don't belong to me.

Midnight In Summer

By: December Sapphire

"Love sometimes comes like a dream and leaves like a nightmare"- Unknown

Chapter I

"Abandonment"

What motivates a man to direct his own mind? I've thought about this question for years. Perhaps there is no possible answer. Perhaps the answer is non-existent. Or perhaps the answer is hidden in a man's mind itself. Either way, I knew I would never know.

The disgusting and disturbing images that haunt a man's mind every day, in which is filled with nothing but pale, nude females, giving them enjoyment, can end up causing so much animosity towards the real thing. It's like in their mind; a perfect, sculpted version of a woman is seen instead of a grotesque, disfigured creature that exists under them. A beauty beyond compare, as Miroku would quote it, only lies inside a man's mind. While in the real world, women are considered ugly, full of scars externally and internally. Their bodies are never right; never fully perfect. Always judged, never neglected. Still, we've always been there for them. But we're never good enough for their minds.

They want a goddess but always end up with me. Mutilated and abandoned.

For years it has been this way.

Maybe it is because I have seen death on both sides. It interests me. Death is the reason I am alive. Without death, we were never born. I suppose this began when I was six years old, my obsession with death, when I saw members of my own family being slain by the creatures I loathed. Their bodies covered with the stench of their own blood. Still, they looked peaceful. I don't know what propelled me-curiosity, maybe- but all I could do was eye-ball the deep, long lacerations on their necks.

Shocked is a biased term. I was not shocked when I saw them being murdered but envious. They had left me behind as they escaped these troubled times. I would've followed but my soul seemed too attached to this world. My father always told me I had an old soul. Maybe that was his way in saying I would die young. But he lied when they left and I didn't.

I ended in a smaller village later on. The people there found me bizarre since I didn't speak a word. They never felt sorry for me, only hateful and bitter. It was there when I first felt the hard slap of a twined rope, resulting in a long, red scar on my back. It was punishment for stealing food from the reserve. This was my first signature of deformity.

The children there weren't any better. Often laughing and teasing me with abhorrent words that should be washed out with soup. I never understood why they beat me- I'm unusual, I suppose- but they never stopped.

I remember one day running from the children and not noticing a knife sticking out awkwardly on its sitting position on a tree stump, cutting into my upper leg with aggression. I also remember the smell of blood and the tedious pain that came with it. Murmurs of villager's voices crowded me as I lay bleeding on the ground; hoping death would soon come, only to be astonished by waking up in my hay- covered bed the next day with a blood-soaked bandage covering my injury, adding yet another defect to my small body.

The few men of the village did start eyeing me too. Only a couple times a day, but it soon grew more suspicious. It wasn't until they captured me, teaching me the correct ways to please a man, when they only watched me as their prey. I was no grown woman, only a child, but in their malicious eyes they didn't seem to care. It was only when they slapped and punched me for misbehaving when I realized their true intentions. They said they wouldn't kill me, only beat me. Still, even in their drunken state, I did what I was told. Their poison breath filling the air, making me do the same things women do to their husbands. It was revolting, only making me hate the human race even more.

It wasn't until I found him, resting under a large, oak tree deep in the forest, that my life was about to change. His face reminded me of glass- so fragile, but beautiful- with alien markings on his forehead and cheeks. His long, silver hair suggested non-human, too perfect to even exist. Maybe it was curiosity that pushed me to him, making sure he wasn't a dream.

Though once he showed his true nature, I was convinced enough he was no dream but a nightmare in a child's mind. A demon, who's tales have been told over campfires for years to frighten children away from dark forests, with deep red eyes of a killer and fangs which can rip a body into two from the very sight.

At first, I was confused by his actions. Usually they would pounce at the sight of their pray, then I realized the state he was in. He was beaten up like me- scarred and dirty. Once I got close to him, his face calmed into an expression of serenity. I knew then, he meant no harm.

He was not like the other men. He did not want pleasure, but peace. Demon he may be, I trusted him more than anyone. He reminded me a lot of myself-quiet and dark- like he had a story behind his stoic expression while I had one behind my smile.

It felt right being near him. I cared not if he didn't eat what I brought, I was only happy with his presence. Even when the village men caught me again, stealing from the reserve, beating me until I was good and bruised, I was still happy to help him gain his health back. One of us had to.

When he first spoke to me, his voice sounding like smooth velvet or soft snow, I knew he cared. Though, I never replied, I stood there and tried to mentally give a picture in his mind. From the pain I had endured, to the meeting him- the stranger who cared-, I never imagined he would asked why. Why I was covered with purple and green blotches on my skin, or why I had scratches on my face, arms, and legs. Why I smelled like dried blood and feces from sleeping in the dirt. I never answered his question, only smiled.

It had been the first time in years since I smiled. I was happy for once.

Only when the demon wolves first attack did I change. I witnessed, again, as the villagers were slaughtered. Be it karma from all their wrong doing, they didn't deserve it. Lives are sacred. They are to be taken care of delicately. Even from evil men, who has sinned all their lives, never deserve to die. Everyone should get a second chance.

Still, even when I ran, searching for the stranger who cared, I knew death was upon me. But death interest me, it did not frighten me. I was always curious on what was on the other side- what awaited me. Would there be a bright light, or only darkness? Whoever thought I would get a second chance though? Walking up in the stranger who cares' arms; I knew I must've been worth something to him. Maybe when the squawking, green toad called the stranger by his name- a killing perfection- I knew I could follow.

When I traveled with him, I never spoke of my past and neither did he. Most times he was quiet and only spoke when necessary. After a brief moment of silence, during which his eyes drifted towards the horizon or a spot elsewhere, would he answer Jaken's absurd questions.

But even after months of following him, I would wonder why he didn't eat humans. Be it because of me, I wouldn't know, I was nothing more than a child. I didn't understand the concepts of demon laws. That was until he came back late, his mouth covered with blood, when I asked what occurred. He didn't speak but only stare, mentally telling me to not ask. To me, I understood and that was good enough.

I had only seen him in battles a few times; it never bothered me to see dead bodies, so I didn't care. I only watched him as he used a long, green whip to slaughter his victims. Insects, he called them, thinking they could ever defeat the great Lord Sesshomaru. I agreed; nothing could defeat him.

What still bothered me was why he kept me around for so long. Jaken wondered the same thing and often yelled at me to go away. But every time the toad yelled, he would be punished. So I never asked.

Being with him though, I felt intact. Something I hadn't felt for a while. Being with him, I felt like no man could ever touch me again. Being with him helped erase all the scars away, hiding it under a lock and key. Happiness was all I felt for a very long time.

I was only eight years old when I fell in love with him. Foolish, was I; believing something so pure. I wanted to feel it; crave it like no other. I already knew so much already, why couldn't I have it?

Love is such a connotative word. It means so many different things. Love was what I felt towards my family. Love was what I felt towards my new clothes. But this love was different. This love was beyond anything I have felt. This love was overwhelming, but I could never have it.

Lord Sesshomaru told me once that he despises humans. That they are lower than the ground he walks on and would never love one. He shattered my heart from those words, opening a locked box that hid my scars. I knew then I was worthless to him. Still, I followed with a smile.

It wasn't until death came to me a second time that I knew my time with him was slowly coming to an end. I was glad that my spirit could be free from all this torment and resentment. But when I came back to the land of the living, I was confused. Lord Sesshomaru was there; his cool gaze settled on me, tell me I was alright. I could not understand why he brought me back if I was nothing to him.

My question was answered that night when he pulled me away from camp, telling me I was to stay in the village below.

"But why?" I asked, shaking. Only I knew the answer, I was a burden, though he would not say it out loud. I knew him well enough to know he would never hurt my feelings.

"I don't need to explain myself."

Yet he had, - mentally, of course- telling me I was worthless and a waste of his time. He had brought me back out of guilt, that's the only reason. No matter what I did, what I said, there was no switching his mind. I was going to be abandoned and seen as an incongruous being yet again.

Maybe he knew my future was filled with darkness and destruction that there was no need for me to follow. Maybe he secretly knew of my past and thought of me as a disfigured creature as well. Or maybe it was for a whole other reason. Whatever it may be, I was all alone once again.

Then I cried. For the first time in years, I showed weakness. Even when I was abused, I would never cry, because I knew what it meant and I knew for them, it would only make them kick harder. My father even once told me to never show fear and I followed his advice. But now, I didn't care. I didn't care what would happen to me. I was no longer under protection of the great Lord Sesshomaru. I was abandoned, discarded, rejected.

I was lost.

Adding yet another scar to my already mangled and tattered soul.

Should I continue?

.:Sapphire:.