The wind rustled the tree leaves as he stepped out of his little rotting shack. He stared at the trees around him and sniffed. He let a sad smile take his lips, it would be another cloudy day without rain. He went back in his house and retrieved a long white piece of cloth and samisen. He stared at the samisen as he walked back out of his little shack. Tears came to his frozen gold eyes, but he refused to let them fall, refused to show he was weak.
He wrapped the cloth around his neck like scarf before taking the edge of the cloth behind his neck and pulling it over his long silver hair, tucking his hair into the cloth on his head. He had his samisen in his hand as he walked to the edge of the forest. The edges of his dark blue haori fluttered in the wind. As he neared the village nearby his little shack he stopped and sat on his knees next to a large weeping willow tree. Slowly, he began to play a sad melody on his samisen.
The melody filled the area he was playing in and he began to sing about a human falling in love with a demon.
As the day went by, people stopped to listen to his sad songs and some dropped money at his knees. At sunset, he stopped playing his instrument and headed back to his shack in the woods. His golden eyes trailed over tree leaves as sun's light slowly faded and left everything in shadow, but he could still see clearly.
He followed the trail he made over the years of walking the same path time and time again. His steps were light and silent as he made his way through the forest. The moonlight shone down on his face making his pale skin even paler, but he pulled the cloth down over his golden eyes as he wondered through the forest. He hid his clawed hands in the sleeves of his navy blue haori, carrying the samisen in his arms. The wind whipped around the trees making the ends of the cloth around his neck and head flutter in the wind. He walked through the forest reaching the part where golden leaves had begun to fall and litter the ground. The only sound during the long walk to his home was the crunch of leaves beneath his feet.
When he had reached his home that was falling apart, he walked in and removed the cloth from around his head and neck, revealing his long silver hair and the blue crescent moon on his forehead as well as the two magenta stripes on each of his cheeks. He brought his hand up and used clawed fingers to brush his hair behind a pointed ear.
He sighed as he began to start the fire for the evening. He tried not to think of his past as he stoked the fire, but alas he did and the tears sprang to eyes once more. He looked away from the fire and brought his golden gaze to the samisen, but he regretted doing so as the tears began to fall down his face leaving a sparkling trail on each cheek. He silently growled at himself.
"Sesshomaru, stop this now.," he said quietly to himself as the fire became big enough for it to sustain itself through the night while he slept.
Sesshomaru kept his gaze away from the samisen, though it was now his and he played it with great talent, it was also a reminder of his mother's death.
He looked at small painting his father had gotten made, it was a portrait of his mother.
His mother had snow white hair and cold black eyes. She also had a crescent moon on her forehead, but no other markings. Her skin was the same pale color as his own. His mother would have looked beautiful now, but she had died shortly after he no longer needed her to feed him; he was four when she died. He remembered the tears he cried for his kind-hearted mother while remembering how cruel she was at the same time. It was her fault the village rejected him, it was her fault he couldn't fight against the villagers, despite their humanity. His mother had taught him to be kind and he was, but only to people who deserved of such affection otherwise he was silent and ignored their presence. He was hardened by the years of rejection and cruelty towards his person. The only way people looked at him was with disgust and hatred. He refused to cry in front of anyone or during the day because he refused to show weakness in front of the humans who scorned him.
He looked back at the fire, the flames lighting up the tears falling from his golden eyes. He stared into the fire, his eyes never once wavering away from the flames. He moved slightly from his cross-legged position on the floor to sitting on his knees. He reached out and grabbed his samisen, then began to play a depressing melody. He sang with the melody in his silk-like voice about a servant girl who loved to serve her mistress, but one day she lost her mistress and was forgotten.
Soon, the song was finished and Sesshomaru put away his samisen for the night. He stood up slowly and made his way to his futon near the fire. He laid down on the lumpy mattress and covered himself with a thin blanket. Slowly, he felt himself fall into the dark clutches of sleep.