This is pretty much my first fanfic, I don't know whether it's good or not so please submit a reply. If you're planning on insulting me, don't bother, I don't care...and this does not include constructive criticism...that I like. Some words which shouldn't be might be joined...I try to fix that as much as I can, but it's my computer not me...
Moving on, I intend this to be a pretty dark fic involving Sesshoumarus' childhood. I don't think I started it off well but what it is, it is. The whole story is pretty much going to be from Sesshoumarus' point of view.
Sesshys thoughts/
narrating what he's doing
Normal words are pretty
much in third perspective.
Disclaimer- I do not own Inuyasha.
I walked out of the dark confines of the forest to stop by a large stream. I did not stop until I stood beside the mass of water. I did not wish to look at my reflection, but I did.
My eyes met those of a distorted figure. I crouched down to take a closer lookat the cold facade that stared back at me. A pale sharp face, two marron colored stripes marring each cheekbone, and soft silver bangs gathered around a blue crescent moon adorning a forehead. A straight, but soft pointed nose, followed by moist pink lips. But none of that bothered me, what bothered me was the blank look on my face. And even more than that, the placid look that never left my gold eyes. And only I knew why...
I harshly slapped the water and stood, my gaze drifting to the clouded sky. I cannot stand to look at my reflection. For every time I look at it, I remember my past...what brought me to be what I am.
What brought me to live through this world with nothing but disgust for myself.
I strode to a tree and leaned heavily against it. My thoughts wandered back to my childhood as I slid down to sit comfortably at the trees base.
I used to think I was normal. Until I was caught up in the thoughts of others, that a prince could be anything but normal. Anyone who was not a royal thought my childhood was special, that I was lucky. And I foolishly believed them. If I had known special would have taken me here, I would never have prayed to live up to everyone else's expectations.
Back then, all I had wanted, desperately wished was to be thought of as a responsible adult. I had craved the thought of being looked up to, of being relied on. Just as my father had been needed by others numerous times. I desired to be him more than anything else. I would have done anything to gain his approval.
Had I known that my wish to become him would bring me here...I can guarantee I would have changed my thoughts in an instant. To say I am unhappy with who I am now is an understatement, a fairly large one at that. Miserable doesn't even begin to describe my 'emotions.' Depressed, some may choose to describe me, but I am well beyond that. Why? Well for one instance, being depressed does not include dreaming of my demise every fleeting moment. Though my 'unhappiness' with myself, I admit will never change my personality. For I no longer care, about this world or anyone in it. I blame myself for my 'depression' and as punishment to myself, I will save myself from suicide until the day I die.
Many find me gorgeous. I do not, nor ever will, understand why.
Do my bitter emotions and sickening depression make me seem surreal?
Or is it that others find my strength to live when I desire to die beautiful?
I hope they never wish for my life. For they have no idea what I have gone through. For a soul to go through the life I have, would be highly unfortunate. Whether or not any believe me, my fate is one that no one wishes to experience.
I have accepted mydestiny and refuse to regret anything I have done. But if I could change anything, it would be for someone, anyone, to have slapped me back into reality, that fateful day...the day I desired to become my father.
I can remember the day quite clearly. I was still quite small and incredibly young in my years. Father and I had been in his library, he in his red satin chair and I sitting at his feet, pestering him once again with my endless questions.
"Father, why does thewestern sidelove you?" a small youkai asked, fingering the plush carpet beneath him.
"Because I love them," Inutashio easily supplied.
That was the moment I realized my father had never told me he loved me. And in turn, I could not remember a time when I told him I loved him...or anyone else for that matter.
The silver haired boy cocked his head to the side, "Why?"
"It is quite complicated Sesshoumaru." the Lord replied.
"Why?" the young boy's hands stopped fiddling with the carpet to rest in his lap.
"Because you are asking my to explain love, and love is unexplainable." Inutashio said,gazing out the window.
And this was the moment I realized I wanted nothing more than for my father to love me, or at least tell me I made him proud.
The small boy began, "Okay, but even if you can't explain love to me, I still don't get-"
"You do not understand, Sesshoumaru." the adult corrected.
This instant, I found myself wishing to be my father. Proud, strong, and one who made no mistakes. We were nothing alike, and I strongly wished us to be.
"I still do not understand what makes the people," after hearing father say he loved the people, but never saying he loved me, I could not bring myself to say the word 'love' again, "like you."
"I must meet with some villagers andit is important that Ileave before nightfall. I will be back in a few days." Inutashio stood and took a deep breath before continuing, "There is only one thing in the world you must know, Sesshoumaru. And it is a phrase I wish you to always live by. If you wish to be a good Lord, you must sacrifice yourself for others."
"Sacrifice myself for others?" The small youkai repeated, as if tasting a delectable dish for the first time.
The boy's father nodded, "Yes, Sesshoumaru, sacrifice youself for others," and left without another word.
I wish now, that I had never heard that phrase, or at least had not decided to abide by it so thoroughly. But I did, and I blame no one but myself.