Sesshomaru looked disparagingly at his records keeper. Why had the man opened his mouth? He had been such a good archivist, one f the best and brightest. Now he would have to die a painful, bloody death. That was the penalty after all, for mentioning the depraved half-breed to the daiyoukai or within his hearing range.
The punishment was not wholly based upon his hatred for his disgrace of a brother. Though he did indeed hate his half-breed brother, he could deal with hearing the slime's name from time to time. He truly had no qualms with hearing his subjects speak of what a shame Inuyasha was to his race. It was satisfying, in fact, to hear how many people agreed with him on this point. He had never joined in, of course—that would be unseemly, for people to know that he even acknowledged the hanyou's presence. He liked things that way, people talking ill of his half-brother, and himself enjoying listening to their slander.
That is, until the disgusting, slime under his shoe, idiotic, uncultured, barbaric whelp of a half-breed had taken his arm.
It had been a moment of weakness, one he had regretted for months to come. He had underestimated the hanyou, playing with him rather than outright killing him. But his subjects didn't see that. They only saw that the half-breed had won. It had been the catalyst for a slew of rumors. Maybe, his people thought, the hanyou wasn't such a stain on the family name. Maybe he was worthy of note. More and more rumors scattered about the palace, and even throughout his kingdom. They told of how his brother had slain the lightning brothers, the spider heads, the mysterious painter of Kyoto, the Onii princess, Yura of the hair; all illustrious criminals. Sesshomaru did not become weaker; if anything he became more ferocious, killing more criminals and traitors than ever before. Much more than the hanyou. But he had been replaced; their interest had settled strongly on this hanyou prince that was stirring up fear in the hearts of criminals.
Soon, the rumors even suggested the filthy hanyou surpassed Sesshomaru in strength.
Unable to stand for such blatant lies, Sesshomaru had challenged his brother to a battle, knowing that when he defeated the hanyou, the rumors would cease. But they did not. He had left with a single scratch on his face, and the loss of a human arm that he had no attachment to. Inuyasha had left with multiple gashes on his face, and all over his body, bruises, and, most notably, a poison laced hole in his abdomen.
It was enough of a victory, Sesshomaru thought. He did not have to disgrace himself by killing his only kin. The rumors would cease; he would be on top, yet again.
But his stupid citizens to not see the hole in Inuyasha's stomach, nor his many gashes. They did not see the battle, or how utterly the boy had been defeated, lucky to leave with his life. They only saw a single scratch on Sesshomaru's perfect face.
They heard rumors of the battle, of course, and by the time they circulated through his people, it had turned into a story about the courage of Inuyasha, and how he had bravely faced Sesshomaru, fighting admirably, with the strength of ten thousand lions. Inuyasha had been defeated, but only because he had sacrificed himself to save his comrades.
Sesshomaru had become a bully, and Inuyasha a courageous hero.
A few more rumors later, and Sesshomaru knew he would have a rebellion on his hands, people rallying to put their beloved hanyou in charge rather than their bully of a ruler. They would no longer see anything of his accomplishments; how he had won wars, fought criminals, eliminated whatever debt their country had, and lowered the taxes. They would not see how many wars he had avoided, nor how many allies had flocked to his power. They would not see all the work he put into making sure the country ran as a cool, well-functioning body. They would only see how he was weak, unable to compare to their precious hanyou hero.
So, he had outlawed the hanyou's name. It served two purposes. First, it would reign in the rumors, if not stop them completely. Secondly, each time he executed someone on the spot for the use of the half-breed's name, it would serve as an apt reminder to just how powerful he really was.
And it worked. People ceased speaking of the hanyou almost completely, unless they knew he could not hear. That was secondary to him, though. The more important of the goals had been achieved. No one contested his power, and rumors of his strength and cruelty proliferated through his kingdom once again.
But today, his favorite archivist had the misfortune of mentioning the hanyou's name, right to his face. Sesshomaru allowed himself a sigh before he would rip the man's head from his body. In that time, the man took the opportunity to rush out what he was going to say."
"I'mnotbeinginsolentIswearItsju sthisnamingdayandheneedstose etheoraclethatsalldon'tkillme!" He gasped out. Sesshomaru blinked.
"Say that once more." He ordered imperiously, looking down his nose at the man.
"It is, as you must know, the Lord Inuyasha's naming day. As is custom, it is your duty to take him to the Oracle to be told his fate." Ah. His naming day. Of course. Sesshomaru relaxed his posture a notch.
"Thank you. You may leave." The man bowed and left, all formality, but once he finally thought he was out of Sesshomaru's vision, he slumped to the ground in a dead faint. Sesshomaru smiled to himself, turning to leave. He positively loved to be the cause of such fear. That was what it meant to be powerful.
But Inuyasha's two-hundredth naming day. It had come fast. It seemed like only yesterday he had caught the brat digging for food in the forest, ruddy cheeked and tiny, not yet ten years old. It was hard to believe he would be seeing the Oracle already.
Sesshomaru remembered his own trip to the Oracle. It had been right after his third war. His first time as general, too, if he remembered correctly. He had left from the victory feast to meet his father before the both of them left to see the Oracle, to know of his fate. It had been the first time he had spent any amount of time with his father. Even when he was appointed to be general of his father's armies, it had been sent by messenger.
When he was a child, naïve and impressionable, he had thought that if he worked hard enough, he would gain his father's approval, or at least be able to speak to him. But his father said nothing when he graduated from his studies before most children stared. He said nothing when Sesshomaru had mastered the blade, nor when he went to his first government meeting and managed to formulate a road building system that created jobs, built more uniform roads, and cost less than half of what they were spending. Even when he made his first kill, his ceremonial pelt was given to him by his father's manservant, with a sneer and an insult.
So eventually, Sesshomaru stopped hoping for his father's approval. He still worked hard, but it was mechanical, now more of a reflexive thing to do, rather than with any purpose. He accepted that nobody would care about his accomplishments; not his father, not his mother, not even his father's bloody manservant. For whatever reason, the man hated him, trying all his might to make the boy miserable.
Too late. Sesshomaru mused to himself, remembering. He had very nearly been born miserable. His mask of indifference was half façade, and half just because he was too miserable to care about anything or anyone.
But on that night, when he had seen the Oracle, everything had been wonderful. His father actually congratulated him on his success in battle, even if he finished it with a 'but you will always be a failure, if you remain the way you are.' And he had actually been able to bask in his father's presence, smiling like an idiot as they made their way up the tall mountain to find out Sesshomaru's fate.
The news the Oracle gave was wonderful, too. "You will succeed your father, in the event of his death. You will be skilled in your calling in life, and receive much validation from it. The kingdom will be made joyful from your efforts" Sesshomaru smiled at the memory now. The prophecy had meant no vying for power, no having to somehow prove himself to his ever-disappointed father. It was his fate. Only fools played with that. Her next words were almost lost to him in his childish, two hundred year excitement. "Your mate shall be strong and good, and shall be the perfect complement to you." Mate? Who cared for a mate when he had learned that he would be the next Lord of the Western Lands?
Sesshomaru paused by Rin's door, as he walked out of the palace to fetch Inuyasha. She was at the human village, now, living with her own kind. It was about time to put the room to good use. He motioned to one of his servants. "This room will be cleared out and used as a room for book repair."
"My Lord?" the servant seemed confused. Was there something wrong with her brain? He had just given her an order.
"What?"
"The archivists haven't asked for such a space yet. My friend that works there said they were considering it, but hadn't filled out the paperwork yet." The servant looked at him in unmasked awe. "How did you know they needed such a room?"
Sesshomaru raised his eyebrow. "I am the Lord of this palace. It is my duty to know." He walked away. Such things often happened to him. Were most people so unobservant that they didn't even recognize the need for such a thing? As he walked away he heard the servants talking behind him.
"That's our Sesshomaru-sama. He does better without a personal manservant than most Lords do with one."
"Than all Lords do with one." Another added, with equal respect and admiration.
When Sesshomaru had first announced not having a manservant, most people had been shocked and critical. A manservant was one of the most key things for a daiyoukai to have. He was a bodyguard, advisor, and mentor to a daiyoukai, on top of taking care of the palace and grounds. In some cases, the manservant would even write diplomatic letters, economic plans, and all the background work of a daiyoukai. It was often even said that the manservant did the work, while the daiyoukai took the glory.
But Sesshomaru had quickly proved his competence. He had no need for someone "helping" him from the shadows, telling him what to do. Such a notion was laughable. This Sesshomaru, needing help, of any kind? Nonsense.
He had a goal in mind, of course. He liked goals. They were what kept him going, when he had no love for life, and no motivation.
He was to be the greatest daiyoukai in all of history.
That was all. Then he would be able to die in peace.
….
Inuyasha, brute that he was, hadn't understood why he had to go to the Oracle. He had whined and complained, even when Sesshomaru had told him what it meant; that he would learn his destiny.
"I'll make my own destiny." He said, naivety irritating Sesshomaru to no end. That was it. The reason he hated Inuyasha. Not why he was disgusted with him, or thought him beneath Sesshomaru's notice. That had everything to do with Inuyasha's human blood. But why Sesshomaru hated him, why he went out of his way to make the boy miserable, was different. It wasn't the hanyou's brash nature or how he had somehow earned their father's approval from the day he was born, though that was irritating.
It was the hanyou's naïve, positive outlook on life. No matter what happened to the hanyou, he believed the world to be good. He could fight for his life, without questioning why. He knew, somehow, in his short two hundred year of his life, what was good, and what was wrong.
He had a passion for life Sesshomaru had never been able to muster.
And Sesshomaru hated him for it with his entire being.
So it was that simple line, not any of the hanyou's insults or threats, that had pushed Sesshomaru over the edge, and had possessed him to sling the hanyou over his shoulder and carry him to the Oracle.
It wasn't one of the crowning moments, of his life, no, but he would not allow his stain of a brother to reject such an amazing gift; the ability to know his fate.
He finally dumped the hanyou on the ground before they entered the cave of the Oracle. Inuyasha shot back up, slinging new curses at him. Sesshomaru repressed the urge to roll his eyes. If Inuyasha's cursing hadn't affected him when it was yelled in his ear the entire way there, it wasn't going to affect him now.
"I trust you will show respect for the Oracle, if you can find none for me." Sesshomaru said, voice ice. It was not a suggestion. It was an order. If the hanyou did not comply, well, Sesshomaru hoped he enjoyed the feeling of having his entrails fed on by the crows, because he would get no better.
"Like hell I will!" Inuyasha yelled, and Sesshomaru backhanded him, causing Inuyasha to fall to the ground.
"If you do not maintain a level of composure, I will see to it that your precious little human followers do not live through the night." Sesshomaru gritted through his teeth. That got Inuyasha's attention.
"You leave them alone, you dirty little—" He was interrupted by Sesshomaru.
"I will, if you will do what I tell you. Now, I am telling you to be silent and cease from using your brutish profanity." Sesshomaru looked at his fingernails. Why did everything with Inuyasha have to be such a pain? Why could he not choke down his obvious hatred of the daiyoukai and listen to him for once? "If you do not, there will be no further warning. Expect to go back to the day-old carcasses of your human pets."
Inuyasha gulped. "Fine." He spat. "I'll do what you want. Sesshomaru, but no more than I have to." He snarled, glaring at the daiyoukai before reluctantly entering the cave.
That was more like it. Sesshomaru followed, the hanyou into the dimly lit cave, wrinkling his nose at the strong scent of incense. "I, Sesshomaru, Lord of the Western Lands, present my half-brother, Inuyasha, for the oracle to determine his fate." Sesshomaru announced, and the Oracle smiled.
"Now isn't this a turn of events?" She rasped. "Come here, child. Let me take a look." Inuyasha edged towards the woman nervously, and Sesshomaru gritted his teeth. Be respectful, cur. He thought, wishing Inuyasha would not be such a failure, even just this once.
"What?! Hag, I don't want to get any closer to your awful scent!" Inuyasha complained, earning a stern glare from Sesshomaru. The half-breed had just signed his friends' death warrant.
But the Oracle just laughed. "Very well, then, Little One. Your fate is strong enough I can see it from here. You will be a great daiyoukai, succeeding your father. Perhaps, even, the greatest daiyoukai in all of history." Sesshomaru felt all the air leave him. Impossible. That was his prophecy. Had Inuyasha stolen that, too, with his father's love and sword? "Your mate shall be your perfect match, Strong and intelligent, but you already knew that, didn't you?" she waggled her eyebrows at Inuyasha, and he blushed, probably thinking of that little miko wench he traveled with. Her, Inuyasha's mate? Over his dead body, Sesshomaru thought vehemently.
"What is the meaning of this? I was told I was to succeed my father, not him." Sesshomaru spoke, trying to hide the weakness in his voice, albeit unsuccessfully. The Oracle blinked.
"You shall each inherit the occupation of your fathers. Is there a problem?" Fathers? Plural? What was the witch getting at? Was Inuyasha's mother a big enough whore that she had bed a different daiyoukai? It seemed unlikely that another daiyoukai would bed a human. A dog demon one, at that.
"Duh. We freaking have the same father, hag." Inuyasha said, and for once, Sesshomaru didn't mind his disrespect.
"No, you do not. Did you not know this?" She looked to Sesshomaru. "Your father was not the InuTaishou. It was, of course, his manservant that had impregnated your mother." Sesshomaru felt as if he had been stabbed in the gut. The Oracle was always right.
He was not a daiyoukai.
He was not even any sort of lord.
His brother was once again getting everything he had ever wanted.
And he would have to serve his worthless hanyou brother, waiting on him hand and foot.
For the rest of his life.
Unable to breath in the stuffy cave, Sesshomaru bolted out the door, running anywhere, as long as it was away from that place. It wasn't true. It couldn't be true. He picked up his pace as he realized who he must see. Grudgingly, he went to see the woman he called his mother.