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Memories are shadows; ink on the page, like ghosts of a past life, here not to stay.

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The death of one is the death of two. A funeral for one is a funeral for two. My love for one was his love for two...

I couldn't stop making senseless comparisons. With a heavy heart, I fell to the ground as I set my half empty sake bottle harshly on the stone, the sharp clack of ceramic striking rock the only noise in the seemingly empty tower. All was silent within seconds. My eyes closed as I let to world fade to black; but my mind raced as the past few weeks replayed itself, highlighting and magnifying things I would otherwise prefer not to remember.

~ Even considering my father's affair being as taboo as it was, a fair number of his subjects showed up to pay their respects. I was standing opposite the rest of the mourners, two shiny memorials keeping us apart. The dark, oiled wood was reflective of the intensifying sun while my black robes absorbed much of the sunlight the overcast sky allowed to break through. I had felt warm in that sauna suit, but dared not show my discomfort. I was empty; a shell. And an empty soul doesn't feel. Besides, my discomfort didn't matter; it never mattered… ~

I squeezed my eyes tighter, hoping that I could stifle the insistent memories from surfacing; from showing me things I didn't want to see; to remember. My resistance only proved to be my undoing as my mind relished the challenge. They flowed more vividly.

~I was painfully unaware of the world. The droning eulogist, the words that held so much pain… They were so elusive; for what was their purpose? Their meaning was lost to me. I suppressed a sigh as I refrained from rolling my eyes. Small bees and fluttering butterflies flitting to and fro in their race to survive caught my eye. They had more respect for death then I.

As he continued to speak, the congregation that gathered started to sing, their voices lost to me as the tune took on more haunting chords. As glazed over as I was, I could not help but see him; to be captivated by a small blur of red. I glared intently at citizens, royals and guards of the Western Castle, and through the masses, at him... ~

I could feel my heart flutter. I could feel the loss sinking into my bones, leaving a trail of heart break and pain. I was not a young one anymore. I understood death, but that didn't make the loss any less painful. I grabbed my chest, the agony threatening to steal my consciousness. All the feelings; the emotions that eluded me these past few days, weeks, months…Years. They broke my barrier and fell upon me with a crushing intent.

~His face was streaked with tears shed. I was disgusted and revolted that such a creature should be so sad over the loss of a family he didn't even know. He was, after all, only a child. He was barely old enough to learn let alone mourn for that which he would not remember. I gazed at him, my eyes hard and locked. He caught my eye and we stared intently at each other, neither of us willing to drop our golden orbs. The anger, rage and hate I felt was immense. I tried to calm my features, applying the concealing mask I reserved for everyday affairs; the effort was vain. I will remember this; will remember everything. I will remember all. I've had years to fight and respect, to fear and to hate, to accept and to learn from our father. He has naught; Naught but a few sparse memories tainted by his youth. My anger intensified. After all, I was there…. ~

I wiped my cheek, staring angrily at the small drop of sadness that clung to my skin. 'What? My first tear.' I wiped it furiously on my pants, a small dot left where the fabric accepted the drop. The tears fell again, and my thoughts whispered. 'You were there? You were not there. If only you were there.'

"Shut up." I growled to the empty room. "Shut up!"

'You are selfish, you were never there.'

I growled, denial and anger rising fast. "I am not selfish."

'You abandoned your responsibilities, your family. You are selfish.'

"I am not selfish!"

Again the voice spoke, all the doubt and fear I've hidden all these years rising in the pit of my stomach. 'You were never there! YOU WERE NEVER HERE!'

I screamed to the darkness that crept into the room "I KNOW! I know okay! I was never there! He needed me and I was never there!"

I rammed my fist into the floor, the stone caving in with the force of my punch. I growled as I shook several drops of blood from my hand and balled my fist tighter as I squeezed the blood from my palm.

The doubt and fear I had felt was fueled with nothing but regret and selfishness. "I WAS selfish. I KNOW that! I don't need you to tell me! I wasn't there as my parent's marriage fell apart! I wasn't there when father left her for some other woman! I didn't even console Mother, not as though she needed it... I wasn't there when Inuyasha was born. Father wished me to be, to welcome and accept him as one of my own pack mates, but I wasn't there. I wasn't there when they celebrated his first birthday, nor any thereafter. Never there to protect him as he was cast aside, as he was attacked and shunned by the many people. Father wished me to be, to help him grow strong, but I wasn't there. I wasn't there to celebrate their anniversary as they begged of me, as though my blessing was the most important thing in the world to them." My voice took on a malicious tone, "but Inuyasha was. He was always there..."

I tore at my hair, the silvery strands twisted around my bloodied hands as I tried to lose the thoughts, the memories.

"I wasn't there when he was attacked. Though I wish I had been. I wasn't there when father jumped to the protection of Inuyasha, though I should have been. I wasn't there when he took his last breath, praying I would arrive in time. I didn't. I wasn't there. Did I even try to be? Inuyasha was always there, but I... I was never… I WAS NEVER THERE! I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE!"

My voice waivered as I finished my screaming. It ended as abruptly as it started, my body wracked with tremors as I continued to rage, mourn and lament like a madman. My memories flashed again.

~I watched with spiteful eyes as Inuyasha weaved his way through the grieving masses. How he was pushed and avoided like a plague. He tossed a single torn up rose into the grave our two parents shared. One heart; one family; one rose. My hatred was justified wasn't it? The whole thing seemed wrong. It was his fault my father was dead. He is the reason. If my father wouldn't have died protecting him, he would be here as would his companion. However, this day would have been about the loss of a boy, not his parents. Would I rather that? Would I rather a child, ignorant and void of selfishness perish in their place? I…

I hardly remembered leaving as my anger swelled. Shortly after the crowd started to disperse I beckoned to my servant to follow as I lead him away from the scene. I looked back and glared at my half-brother, irritated with how he called to me. I made a sound of disgust as I turned around, my face scrunching. I pretended as though he wasn't even there. I flared my fur as I grunted, preparing to take off. I wanted nothing more to do with this place. Glancing back at the procession, I gazed impassively back at the hill, watching Inuyasha bound away from a group of rancid faced demons, his face pained. I heard him screaming for me, calling to me as we picked up speed.

"It wasn't my fault Sesshomaru! It wasn't my fault! I swear!"

His feet caught the damp grass and I watched him trip and hit the ground, his face swelling with pain as he started to cry. His wails echoed in my head. I watched many people arch around him, almost straining to keep their hands from covering their ears as he screamed. Their faces contorted and their disgust was evident. I was full of feeling, something I strained to prevent my entire life. Feelings of contempt, and anger, and hate; and most alarmingly, pitty. It was in those moments of such stress and emotional turmoil and change, that I remembered… I remembered my father. I remembered his various lessons and lectures, how he tried to change me, to urge me to modify my behavior, to be like him. Day after day, week after week until our relationship was just a big disappointment. Everything he tried to get me to be; to mold me, get me to change into. I am my father's son, but I'm no stranger to rage. I will never be what you want me to be; and I don't think he could understand that. ~

I grabbed the bottle I had set on the floor. I wasn't wrong. 'He killed my father.' I needed to drown these memories. I need to forget but, I remember. I remember everything. I spoke slow and deliberant. "It's a long and lonely road, and I know I walk alone. I will burn it all to the ground before I let you in."

I raised the bottle to my lips, taking a long drink of the harsh liquid. I drained the rest of the bottle before throwing it across the room. It shattered as it hit the wall, shards of ceramic littering the once clean floors. With a fury that was my own hell, I shredded the memories rising in my head, pushing them as far away as I could. I took control of my mind.

"Regret. I will not regret who and what I am. Father, I will remember you, if only so I can become better than you; stronger. I will never be you, I will never change. You will never force me; guilt or not, to change."

I took a deep breath, subduing each of my emotions until they were no more. I pushed the bubbling mass back into submission, replacing my distraught, tortured expression with my mask of indifference.

I took a shuddering breath, my mind clearing for the first time weeks. 'He killed himself, protecting the filth of his. I had nothing to do with it. He knew I wanted out, to have nothing to do with the family he created, and yet he pulled me back in.' I pushed myself off the floor as the door cracked open.

"Is… Is everything alright?"

I glared at my servant; the one who stuck by me through everything. I offered no response, only choosing to rise off the floor. I indicated my consent for him to enter, watching as he cleaned the floor of the debris. He worked quickly, dismissing himself out of my study as swift as possible.

With a sense of clarity, I strode out of the room and into the hall, flanked by my ever faithful servant. Donning robes of white, I exited the grand pavilion I inherited as my own since my father's demise. I didn't want it. The title was always mine. I was always a son of the West, and it is my honor to take with me the title of Lord of the Western Lands. But, this place, this palace is filth. Its very walls are ridden with bad memories and forgotten moments. Its empty halls and bare walls are testament enough to the feelings I have towards my past. Yes. I will leave this place, and perhaps when an heir is necessary I will return, but my destiny lies elsewhere.

I strode down the path, past the gardens and out the gates, never looking back.

Never, looking back.

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So, I decided to write a modernish/feudalish blended story (full ofAnachronism's I bet) About Sesshomaru attending the funeral of his dad and Inuyasha's mother. Definitely the vision of a madman I think because it is a little hard to follow along. Maybe I was a little mad when I wrote it months ago.

Interpret it as you will, I will describe what I was writing while writing it. I meant for this to reflect on how he [Sesshomaru] was angry during the funeral, angry at Inuyasha and blaming him for the death. Then how he reflects upon it later as he remembers the ceremony, despaired and shamed, believing it's his own fault for not being there. Then how he blocks the development of his own character and embraces his anger, his arrogance and more self centered feelings and using them to fuel his life and direct it upon his own wishes instead of admitting his mistakes. It's how he became a blank stone so full of anger and so arrogant, believing himself to be better than Inuyasha and above everyone, while striving to rise above the father that only wanted for him to change and embrace Inuyasha as his own kin. Where Sesshomaru failed to see humans in a brighter light, is where the rift between him and his father started. (Also, some lyrics from Remember Everything, and Far From Home FFDP.)

Anyway. Enjoy this torrent of imagination and craziness that has little to no meaning. Its Sesshomaru's way of mourning and then steeling himself to the world. From anger to sadness to blame to nothing. (Sorry for the long note. I felt like I had to explain this.)