AN: Welcome to Snippets, a series of little shorts, no more than a page, each one a new story looking into some aspect of the lives of the Inu gang. There will be language, nothing too strong but still, be warned! I don't own any of the people who you recognize. Plots and OCs are mine. Do enjoy them!

'No, you can't do this to me Shizu, you know you can't!'

'It's too late now, let me go, let me finally have some peace, can't you see this is your fault?'

The scenes changed to a later time.

'Look Sesshomaru, he's your new baby brother, don't you like him?'

'No,' he turned leaving a shocked Izayoi and a slightly fuming father in the hall.

Once again, the images shifted.

'Everyday he comes home crying, why are you never there to protect him?' Sesshomaru had had it with this question.

'You want to know fine, I'll tell you why. That thing is the bane of my life; because of him you killed my mother. If you never loved her then why did you make her suffer for you? Why are you such an anal retentive bastard?' He raged. His father stared at him like he had never seen him before.

-------

Sesshomaru tossed in his sleep, horrid memories kept permeating his dreams and twisting them into nightmares. Which seemed ever closer, ever more like he was back in that time, the closer they were to his present age, he woke with a gasp and looked around his room while his back prickled uncomfortably with cold sweat.

He wished for his mother, she always knew when he slept badly and always came to assuage his fears. Now not only was he too old for that, his mother would never again walk in the halls of the house.

Sesshomaru reached across his cluttered night table. Though to the outside world he presented an image of neatness, his personal life was far from organized. At home, he let chaos rule supreme.

He grabbed the small gold circle he was aiming for. Bringing it towards his nose he hit the catch and it popped open. It was a make-up compact that had belonged to his mother. Not even a touch of the pale powder remained but her scent lingered on. It was slightly chalky, due to it being make-up but it was nonetheless, hers.

It had been the only thing he had been able to save from his father's purge of the house. Everything to do with his mother, gone: books, furniture, bedclothes, decorations, paint, whole rooms totally emptied and then redone by his step-mother. He was sure that his father felt regret for his mother's death, sure he still felt sad some nights. Perhaps this was his way of trying to escape emotions that threatened to take over.

Sesshomaru breathed in deeply and closed the compact. Carefully he replaced it in its spot on his cluttered night table.

'In the end, can anyone ever truly be happy?' He wondered. For only four years after Inuyasha's birth, Izayoi had passed away from breast cancer.

At least his mother had her vengeance in the end. He turned over onto his other side to sleep.