.:Breakable:.
A Sesshomaru Love Story
Disclaimer: I do not own the anime and or the manga Inuyasha. I however own my characters.
Her hair was of the up-most quality and the most beautiful color golden. It felt as if it were the finest silk, woven to perfection by specialists trained only in the fine art of silk weaving. Her perfectly sculpted pale face had no blemishes to speak of, yet her ruby red lips stood out against them. The crystal blue orbs that were set on her face were set on the pot in front of her. She was preparing dinner, no, not for her own family. For her brother and younger sister. The youngest, a boy who dreamed of becoming a famous chef, was killed-, No. A better term would be murdered.
"Nagisa, I'm home." A strong male voice rung out through the hut, echoing off of the small walls. Nagisa didn't raise her blue eyes from her cooking. She already knew who had just entered the door, having no doubts or suspicions it was her older brother by three years.
"Welcome home, Ichirou." Her lovely voice, equally as soft as her fine hair answered as he stepped into the small kitchen.
"Akira has not yet returned?" Ichirou spoke of their younger sister, who was only twelve years old, six years younger than Nagisa and nine younger than Ichirou, the man of the house now.
"It seems so." Although Nagisa's voice was ever so calm, inside she was worrying and fretting over Akira's well being. Surely the girl had been late before, but by now she'd walk in the door, rubbing the back of her golden curled head and smile with those bright ruby red lips of her's, similar to Nagisa's. The little girl, much too small for her age, would then say, 'Oh, I'm terribly sorry to have caused any worry on your part. I was just so fascinated by the beautiful scenery I just had to look!'
Then Nagisa would wave it off as nothing and serve the meal, and while they ate Ichirou would talk of his job guarding the small village's shrine and Akira would tell of her day at her academy where she learned to become a priestess.
Dinner had grown cold by now. No words or stories had been exchanged. Akira still was not present.
Both siblings agreed they should go look now. They both ran, afraid for their sister, deathly afraid. The two had always thought of the children as their own after their mother sold them to... him, after their father's death when she could not afford to clothe and feed them. He had locked them up unmercifully in a dark prison room. Once a week they would receive food. Most food went to the two children, Akira and Kazuhiro, who were still growing. For three straight years they were in the cell, until finally they were set free. Nagisa and Ichirou had grown since they traveled to the roof where sunlight was, where as the two children, only three months apart and very close, were scared of roofs and did not want to go. Only less than a day after they left, Kazuhiro died. If not for praying at the village's shrine daily, Akira would have the spirit whom protected the village saved Akira, and so she sought to repay the spirit by becoming a priestess. This lifted Nagisa's and also Ichirou's hopes that Akira could and would protect herself.
Apparently they were wrong.
Tears stung Nagisa's eyes as she stared at her sister's bloody body on the ground, a large hole through the middle of her body where blood was still oozing out. Her eyes opened wide and her lips were parted only slightly where blood leaked out. Tears leaked from the older girl's eyes as she stared at her younger sister in disbelief. Already, after just a year, another sibling had died. The only conclusion Nagisa could come to was that it was her mother's fault.. and also his.
The blonde clutched onto her brother's shirt and let the tears flow as he set a protective hand on her back. Flipping his long, yet not too long blonde hair out of his blue eyes, he looked at his little sister again before closing his eyes tightly and holding his sister tighter as she cried more.
Whoever did this would pay.