Under the cherry blossoms

The Western Lord looked at the lying priestess. Her friends were gathered around her injured body, mourning. She was dying, her wound too severe to allow her to see a new day rising.

He stared at her, without paying attention to Inuyasha, who was moving towards him.

The scene seemed unreal. The devastated battlefield, the shredded bodies of their enemies, the hovering silence except for the crying kit, and the cherry blossoms swirling in the gentle breeze of this spring evening.

He paid no mind to Inuyasha rant, mesmerized by a flower petal that had fallen gently on the priestess lips, her jerky breathing barely lifting it.

She had grown in power since their first encounter and his failure to kill her thanks to Tessaïga. Reluctantly, he had learned to respect her and her friends despite being human and despite their friendship with the hanyô. Enemies, they became occasional allies in their fight against Naraku.

And today, Naraku was dead, disintegrated by their combined attack.

Their reluctance alliance was no longer necessary.

But he waited.

His face impassive, he waited for her last breath.

It was his last tribute.

Her confession last night had surprised him. It had surprised him that she had the courage to speak of her feelings, knowing that only a rejection could await her. But he was the Lord of the West, the sole heir of a long line of warriors and she was a mere human priestess, enemy of his kind.

But after all, the priestess was an open and sensitive creature, he should have known better. She wasn't used to conceal her through.

For weeks of travelling together, he had learned to decipher the onna. He had seen her affection gradually turning towards him.

And yesterday night, his indifferent face was his only answer. He was Tayoukai, she was human, nothing more.

He had felt her disappointment and acceptance. She had bowed to him and left, leaving him alone in the clearing where he was previously meditating, the moon their only witness.

The breeze lifted his hair, the petal dancing in his silver hair.

Her breathing was becoming more labored until completely extinguished.

The flower petal remained motionless.

Inuyasha ran to her lifeless body with a cry of despair.

Sesshomaru waited with anticipation but Tenseiga stay still at his hips. So, let be it.

He turned away.

Regrets were unnecessary.

Regrets of a past that has not occurred.

Regrets of a future that will never happen.

Regrets were for the weak.

He was the Lord of the West.

She was just an instant in his life, a mere flick of time, like the cherry blossoms