AN: Sorry…you know how I love my angst and tragedies…and um…if you don't like this…sorry? It's not exactly the prettiest work I've ever made, but I like it. Not too bogged down with background info, just the way I like it. As for the title, it's supposed to be Latin, but who knows if I got that right at all…it's supposed to mean desire or longing, grief for the absence or loss of.

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha.

Desiderium

Once upon a time, there was a princess.

Izayoi knew that the moment she saw him, she was completely, irrevocably, undeniably in love. His beautiful sun-kissed eyes, shimmering silver hair, and his all around commanding aura. He was not one to mess with.

He came upon their palace, her home, killing anyone and everyone who dared to step in his way. They were foolish humans who deserved death for thinking so highly of themselves to begin with. Izayoi could express nothing but gratitude when she came back from her daily trip to the forest (an activity unknown to others). Her prison, her walls of stone, had come crashing down so easily at this demon's feet.

She would do anything to be near him, to even utter a single sound in his direction. Just to do that would send her soul in a frenzy. For years she had been dying to escape what she called her own, personal hell. Nobody gave a rat's ass about her in that palace, using her only as a means to an end for political ideals. She couldn't begin to fathom how many daimyo's sons her hand in marriage had been considered to. And like the good, little princess she was, she would not utter a single word of refusal. After all, who would want a woman who could speak her mind?

But now…now she felt more alive than ever. To see a palace like that desecrated filled her with joy. It terrified her in a way to know how much she loved this. Did that make her a demon herself? Surely no human would react this way. If anything, she should be burying the dead and paying her respects. But she was through with doing what others wanted – expected – her to do.

However, when she set her sights on him, the only look she received was one of contempt. She should've felt crushed, but she didn't. He was right to think of her as lowly. She felt like dirt beneath the grass. All this time she was just a shadow, some object. She didn't know how to live like a human.

He didn't care regardless.

"Filthy," he sneered.

And with that, he vanished like a ghost. As if he had never even come this way.

There is a prince.

It was almost déjà vu when she saw those golden eyes and the silvery hair again. Izayoi could've sworn that she had met him before, seen him in the past from not too long ago, but not too near either. Like a little ghost floating in between.

His stance was authoritative, demanding respect upon whatever ground he treaded. She ached to be by the side of someone like that.

But she suddenly knew he was different. Off.

He looked at her, his sharply golden eyes focused on her and only her. She felt dizzy and slightly nervous. She was alone in the woods, a bubbling stream not too far off in the distance. He was within such easy distance that all he needed to do was draw one of his powerful swords, or even his claws, and swipe. However, she didn't fear him. Not too much at least.

And suddenly, he smiled.

It was an odd smile, slightly out of place. Crooked, small, judging.

"What is a human like you doing out here, alone?" he asked softly, though the baritone in his voice was not missing.

Izayoi's lips were dry and refused to part. She licked her lips slowly, unsurely, before looking up, almost afraid to get lost in those golden pools.

"I like to walk by myself," she whispered, though she knew one such as him could hear even her heart palpitating wildly against her chest.

He stayed silent for a moment, taking in her appearance. She was pretty, for human standards at least. Young as well. She couldn't possibly be older than nineteen. But humans were so frail and aged quickly. He had lived centuries and still maintained a youthful appearance. Something about their frailty intrigued him though. In their weakness, they had an overwhelming amount of dedication to their emotions – perhaps the very downfall of them all.

"Your name." It was not a question.

"Izayoi…"

There is a beginning.

She stayed with him, not knowing what sort of whirlwind she was allowing herself to step into. It mattered not anyways. She had nothing left behind her; the future was her only concern.

Still, as she looked at this man, this demon, she could only think of the one who so many years ago destroyed her home and the inhabitants of it. Flawlessly, effortlessly…perhaps carelessly as well. No sympathy ever poured out of his eyes, no regret. And she would've absolutely hated him if it had.

Izayoi didn't linger too long on him though, for she was involved with this demon, who almost had the same effect on her. Almost. He made her forget about things she never wanted to recall again, and maybe, each time she laid by his side, dreamed alongside him while he was doomed without a subconscious, she imagined it was him.

Many nights passed and went, and one of those nights brought on new life.

Her stomach swelled in size gradually, and the very idea of walking sent it aching. During the later days of her pregnancy, she was confined to her room, dreaming of the day she would see him again. Not even a child could possibly get her to focus on the one at present. And fear suddenly gripped her.

This child would never be whole. It would never contain a human spirit or a demon life. It would always be stuck somewhere where the seams unraveled. She felt sick with contempt at herself, knowing she was fully aware of all the actions she had taken. She had allowed a child to come into this world like that…she allowed the future suffering. Just like she had suffered.

"I can't…" she whispered to herself, crying because of all the things she did wrong and never right.

Only a little while later did a baby boy emerge from her womb, and she knew from that day on, she was shattered.

"Inuyasha…"

A tragedy always happens.

The father of her child was gone, dead in battle. It was indescribable to her, to understand how such a powerful, commanding creature could fall at the hands of a battle. Whoever killed him must've had a strong desire to do so.

And perhaps, she was once more happy for a death that occurred in her life.

She was sure that she was sadistic in one way or another.

Perhaps that was the greatest tragedy of all.

But there is no happy ending.

Inuyasha had been sent away from her, running off to play in a large field of flowers. Izayoi had set herself along the edge of the forest, taking in all the beauty around her. Life was full of beauty, and she had begun to believe that she was a blemish on something otherwise so stunning.

She couldn't keep it in any longer; this could not go on. It was wrong, that much she knew, especially with her child, her beloved, isolated child so near her. It would only be a matter of minutes before he sniffed out her blood, and that would be it. But he was strong…she knew he was. After all, being born a half-breed forced the survival into you.

Besides, she was just a strain on him. She could never keep up, never love enough, and never protect enough.

The small dagger rested in the sleeve of her kimono, and she groped the hilt of it, feeling a sudden coldness still in her heart. The end for her was only a matter of seconds away.

And right then and there, as if he had descended straight out of the heavens itself, he appeared. Quiet, cold, and repulsed. He watched her silently, taking in the whole scenery. He could practically feel the sadness rolling off her frame in waves. But what bothered him the most was the way her dark eyes focused solely on his, never wavering for even a second. Longing pooled into those dark depths, and he felt sickened to the core. He saw her pull out the dagger, and his lips curled in contempt.

"Filthy."

And there is no love.

A gasp was heard, a soft thump, and the ending had come and gone, just like that.

Sesshoumaru…