A/N: This is the rewritten version of Irony. Title has been changed. It's been a while since I've written anything for Inuyasha. I kind of abandoned it when I got into Death Note XD. Well, I decided to rewrite all my old Inuyasha fics.

Warnings: Sesshomaru is a bit OOC. But not, like, Mary-sue-ish. He has anger problems, basically, because he suffers through drug addiction. Story is through Rin's POV. Character death.

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.

The air around me has a sort of gloomy presence, like something terrible is going to happen. Winter has finally made its way to Hokkaido, and there are flowers blooming. It's a bad omen.

I live every day of my life in fear of what's going to take place each day.

He's always in a bad mood, my father. When he's not in his state of euphoria, he's angry and ill-tempered, and I'm the one who has to suffer at his hands, each and every time. I'm the one he takes it out on. I'm more like an object for him to release his frustrations.

I'm more of an object than his daughter. Is something wrong with that picture?

He gets a little high, feels a little good, and acts like he actually gives a damn about what goes on in my life. He irritates me and asks questions that he wouldn't bother with if he wasn't on a good one. Right away he wants to be 'father of the year' and show up to my next stage performance. I'm his only reason for living, his only 'friend', the only one that cares and understands, since grandma and grandpa treat him like shit. I'm the best thing that happened to him.

But...

I'm just an object, remember? When he's not high and he's suffering from withdrawals, I'm an object. The petty things make him mad and rile him up. If there's nothing for dinner and I'm out of money, he's angry.

I remember about a year ago, when he was so strung out; he wanted to go to the movies with me. I told him no and reminded him several times that I had to study for exams. However, that didn't seem to register through that immeasurable sized head of his. He became angry, and stormed off to his room, mumbling something about me never spending time with him.

Three reasons for that though; first, like I said, he was unimaginably high off his ass. Second, I did have exams to study for. Third, why the fuck should I waste my time sitting through some ridiculous two hour movie with him? Why should I act like I cared, when he never gave two shits about me and my business? Why should I have to accept his role of father-of-the-year and play 'sweet-naive-daughter'? That just wouldn't work. Saturday, the next day, finally done with my studies, I decided to watch some t.v. in the living room. As I thought of turning it off cuz nothing good was on, I heard him come out of his room. Thinking he was gonna go outside because his connection was here, I ignored him. That was the only day I wished he had gotten high. His anger was the worst I had ever seen.

He had unplugged the t.v. from the wall, and before I knew it, his hands were fisted in my hair. He was shaking me back and forth, screaming obscenities at me. I pulled my knees up to my chest for protection, and he kicked the stool that my feet had been resting on up towards me. It didn't hit me, but his hands were flying towards my face and arms, anywhere he could hit. I sat there crying and trying to block his blows. He stopped, but he stood in front of me, calling me an ungrateful little bitch. I dared to look up at him through my bangs, and saw nothing but anger and hatred in his eyes. He was angry just because I didn't want to see a movie with him yesterday. Childish, isn't it? But it gets even better. He started yelling about how I always expect everything out of him, and when he asks a simple thing from me, I, "have a fucking cow" and, "start complaining like a little bitch." I dared not ask what the fuck he was on, because as I recall, I most certainly was not complaining or having a cow. I simply stated no and calmly explained I had to study. I reminded him again of what I said, and how I said it, but he only ignored me. The insults and hits came again. He landed a blow to my cheek, and it stung like hell, but I willed myself not to cry. He finally stopped and went back to his room. I sat there, motionless, just staring at the ceiling. That was the worst day of my life.

Or so I thought.

Now, I know it's going to happen all over again. Why, this time? Because there's no food and he has no money. He asked me for money and called me a fucking liar when I said I didn't have any. Well, I don't. I only have fifty-three cents available in my account. My whole paycheck went to my cell phone bill and the electric bill. Once again, I was named 'ungrateful bitch' because I supposedly just sit on my ass with the air conditioner running. Hey, he enjoys it too right? And I always pay that damn bill, and it's usually just half my paycheck. Why was it so high this last time? Because he was the one sitting on his ass with it running all day for two weeks. He should have been at work for those two weeks, but Grandpa Taisho suspended him from work for since he went in one day high and lost several very important clients. Stupid bastard. That's what he gets. But now he's complaining about there not being enough food, and he's still calling me a liar. Tomorrow will be just the same as last month.

Haha. I was right. His fists are raining down on me, each hit harder and harder than the last. I sit motionless, trying not to cry. I will never cry for anyone again, but that's if I make it through this one. I try to block out the hits, try to think of something else. I close my eyes but the pain still won't go away. The name calling has returned. Hah...why am I ungrateful? I don't know anymore. I don't care. All that I notice is the explosion of unbearable pain coursing through my head. I swear I can feel my brain bleeding. A metallic taste enters my mouth. He busted my lip, and I feel strangled, like I can't breathe. Oh dear Kami, he's strangling me. The blows to my head are back. I feel myself fading away, deeper and deeper into the subconscious part of my brain. I'm surrounded by darkness, an eternal abyss that I strangely find slight hope in.

I'm finally free, and maybe I'll have the chance to see my mother. She, too, died by my father's hands.

A/N: I felt the need to say this: Drug addiction is a serious problem, as I'm sure you know. It's not as easy at it seems for someone to let go of the addiction, but that doesn't justify their actions or choices they make while under the influence. Please, don't let drugs ruin your life, or any of your loved one's lives. Drug addiction brings about many losses, heartache, and pain, and I'm sure no one wants that. But that's not the case with every addict. Some are too wrapped up in their own world, and they can't be helped unless they want to be helped. If someone you love, someone you know, or yourself, are struggling with addiction and need someone to talk to, please feel free to PM me. I've seen what addiction can do to a person, and I know the struggles that it causes for everyone around them. You're not alone, so please don't give up.