Not Right
It was not right. This wasn't supposed to happen; this was a great mistake. What went wrong, what did they do to deserve this? It just wasn't right, wasn't fair, it must have been one sick, cruel joke. It was the joke of life with death as a punchline.
She was a lowly human. She was weak and fragile and had already died once. She was supposed to die again, with him never changing, hardly aging. She was supposed to grow old, and he was supposed to live for many hundreds of years yet. Everything is wrong everything messed up. It wasn't supposed to be.
He was a great youkai. He had been strong and powerful. He had been the owner of Tensaiga, the healing, life saving sword; the master of the sword that had brought her back from a death via wolves. He was supposed to live long after her second death. He had promised to never forget her. Now he would just never get the chance. Now the one who protected her, the one that she had followed for so long, and for so far, was... But it wasn't right, it wasn't supposed to be like this.
She was the one destined to die.
Why did this happen? Why wouldn't the Tensaiga work for her, the one who had loved Sesshomaru-sama despite him being youkai, and she a human? Why had he left her, with her knowing he would never be able to return? Why? Why? Those questions would go unanswered she knew. It was what it was. And it all was wrong.
Sesshomaru-sama had been protecting her as always. Was that what caused this? Was the fact that she had found that he had never been more beautiful then he was then? Him, standing in front of her. His eyes a cold amber, his hair twirling around in silvery wisps. Blood everywhere. But his face looked as it always had. But his body betrayed his vulnerability.
He had taken the blow intended for her, the one intended to swipe out her existence. Sesshomaru-sama was blood splattered, as was she, the red liquid flowing out into the world. His boa always had been so soft to sleep on, always so white, slowly turned red. The big, gapping wound in his chest, his stomach, had done something that had never happened before. For the first and last time, Sesshomaru-sama fell to his knees. His face had changed then. His mouth fell, and blood trickled out past his fangs, over his lips and crawled down his chin.
Rin never looked away. Rin should have looked away, should of screamed and covered her eyes like a coward. But she couldn't pull her gaze from those cold amber eyes that were now held even less shine then before. A dead stare.
Rin should have been the one to have the wound. She should be the one lying dead on the ground. She should have been kill by Naraku, that monster, that killer. Rin should have been left dead many months and moons ago.
She should have been able to join her mother, father, and brother.
Those deaths were the first. The first she saw, the first she screamed, and the first she had the smell of blood stinging her eyes. The last she had talked for 2 years. Those bandits had killed her beloved family, with her crouching in the bushes, shaking. They had fun with the near dead body of her mother, forcing her father to watch. Her brother had died first, his head cleanly detached from his body. The bandits had placed it on to a stick to place by the roadside, like some strange marking of their power. But she was always curious, and she never pulled her gaze from them and their twisted acts. That's why she feared them. Rin wondered now if she will fear youkai.
The wolves were comrades of youkai. They killed her by the order of a youkai. All because of a thief had wanderer into her hut by the riverbed. When she had first laid eyes on him, she knew trouble was coming. She was right. The wolves hadn't even glanced at her direction when they first started to attack those hateful, abusive villagers. Only when they had finished with them, they looked her way. Rin had run. Her little legs carried her to the forest, where she knew something that was so powerful that he didn't even need human food was resting. Her mind thought, maybe he likes wolf. But then she tripped, and the wolves pounced. Her tears probably tasted salty on the wolves' teeth.
When she awoke, she was surprised. Rin knew she had died. Rin knew that the one who had cradled her in his single arm had revived her. She loved him then. He had her reborn, he had been her new creator, her new father and mother. From then on he had been her Sesshomaru-sama.
But now Rin would be waiting, stilled in this spot, Sesshomaru-sama's blood wetting her kimono. Here she would wait, in front of this beautiful corpse, her eyes still looking, still staring, until it would finally be her turn. Her creator was gone, what else was there for her to do?
It was wrong, Rin thought. It wasn't supposed to end like this. She the human, and him the youkai. Which one was supposed to die first? She was dead, or at least had been. Was that the mistake? Her Sesshomaru-sama is dead now. And she wished and hoped and prayed to anyone that could hear her unspoken words that she would be fast to follow. Sesshomaru-sama had led the way, and Rin would follow. But in this world, she the human was supposed to go first. But she had already, so it was her fault. Her death had caused him to revive her, causing her to follow him, causing him to protect her, causing him to die.
But it was all wrong. It just wasn't right. It wasn't to happen this way. His life did not need to end. She was the human, the weed, the fleeting life of a flower. He was a tree, meant to last for ages. But he had rotted away, all because of her. It's not right.
