2. Fracture

Inuyasha was staring hard at the stone floor, hoping that his master would be gracious enough to spare him punishment for spilling tea on a guest earlier in the day, but he had been punished for committing lesser offenses in the past. He trembled at the thought of being beaten again—his bruises from yesterday were still fresh, swelling angrily, marring his otherwise flawless skin.

He often cursed his feminine appearance for causing him complications. It wasn't the first time his master had received a guest who took a perverse interest in him. At each improper touch, Inuyasha had endured until he could bear it no longer and deftly knocked over the cup he had been refilling onto the guest's lap. It would be foolish to assume there would be no consequences. He had been much too rash.

He didn't dare look up now, even as he heard the crack of a whip. He was sure he made quite the pitiful sight with his head bowed, eyes squeezed shut, and teeth biting hard into his lower lip; but he would not beg for mercy today.

He was still anticipating the sting of the whip when his master spoke. "I will not strike you at this time, you worthless thing," the demon said, dragging his words.

Inuyasha should have been relieved at the absence of beating, yet from experience he knew that his actions would not be so easily pardoned.

"Instead," the demon continued, "you will have no food or water for three days."

"Thank you for your kindness," Inuyasha replied instinctively, his eyes still glued to the ground.

The demon sneered. "I cannot imagine why Toguro decided to keep a weak thing like you around. Pathetic," he spat. "I would have killed you had it not been for that pretty face." He gave Inuyasha one last look of disgust before leaving him to stand alone in the hallway.

Inuyasha's feet felt as if they were rooted to that single spot. If only he were not human, perhaps then his fate would be different. Any fate would be better than this one. His hands closed tightly, clenching as resentment and hatred like none he had ever experienced before burned through him. They had no right to treat him that way, like he was filthier than the dirt beneath their feet—no right at all.

And then his anger faded, as if someone had drenched him with cold water. He should have learned his lesson the last few times he had tried to run. It was useless.

He could not escape this prison.

Night fell, and by that time, Inuyasha had returned to the dungeons. "You would think that I should have gotten use to this by now," he sighed. He had spent most of his days down here and as always, the air was chilling. It made him realize how hungry he was. His stomach suddenly rumbled, loudly enough that a guard snickered at the noise. His face flushed with shame and he quickened his steps.

"I see you're faring well, Inuyasha," he heard someone say, and he paused. He couldn't pinpoint where the voice came from. He was still trying to figure out why it sounded so familiar, when Toguro stepped out of the shadows. Inuyasha blinked, and Toguro was behind him, running his claws down the length of his arm. "Ah, the burns seem to have healed completely. How unfortunate," he said, holding up Inuyasha's right hand. He proceeded to turn Inuyasha's head side to side, inspecting his injuries. "I trust my subordinate has been handling you properly?" Though it was a question, Toguro didn't seem as if he expected an answer. He grasped Inuyasha's chin with a clawed hand.

"You will entertain me tonight," he commanded.

Sesshoumaru had thought Inuyasha dead the night he heard his scream from the tower. There had been no sign of him or Toguro when he had reached the top, save the faint scent of blood. For two years, he had sent search parties and went so far as to seek him personally to no avail. Allies of the Western Lands accused him of neglecting his duties for personal interests, forcing him to put the search on hold. Refusing to be deterred, Sesshoumaru secretly sent out one of his best spies to continue looking. That had been a year ago.

Then just as he was going to officially announce Inuyasha's death, he received word of a servant who had an incredible resemblance to the second prince—except the boy was human.

But Sesshoumaru would not overlook this lead.

At dusk, he set out to the town where his brother may have been spotted. By the time he arrived, it was midnight. Demons were roaming the area, a few of them with human servants trailing behind them. He scoffed. Simpletons.

"Where can I find Toguro?" Sesshoumaru demanded, to no one in particular.

Every demon turned to see who it was, wide-eyed when they did recognize him. "He can be found in the manor on the hill, milord," an older demon replied, inclining his head as he did so. Sesshoumaru barely glanced at him before walking briskly ahead.

There were demons standing guard when he neared the entrance of the manor, so he chose simply to leap over the back wall, stealthily slipping through an open window. He heard a distant sound of subdued cries and distasteful chuckles, guiding him to the dungeons, where he was met with minor interference. The guards did not even see the face of their killer as their blood stained the walls.

Sesshoumaru was getting closer now, and a familiar scent reached his nose. He distinctly remembered Inuyasha smelling like this on the night of the new moon, but he had to be certain. He saw a human with ebony hair, kneeling with arms bound behind him in front of a demon he knew all too well. Toguro. His lip curled, but he moved no further. Toguro had not noticed him yet.

"Scream for me, Inuyasha," Toguro said, striking him hard on the cheek. Inuyasha bit his tongue from the impact, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth.

That name was all the confirmation Sesshoumaru needed. He unsheathed Tokijin, the blade crackling as he unleashed it. Toguro sensed him then and turned to see who had dared interrupt him. A slow smile spread across his face as his eyes fell on Sesshoumaru. "Lord Sesshoumaru. What a pleasure," he said, almost purring.

Sesshoumaru ignored him, dashing forward with Tokijin prepared to swing. Toguro stood there smiling, waiting, and disappeared in the next moment. Sesshoumaru's blade scraped against the floor as it sliced through air.

"Always so aggressive, Sesshoumaru." Toguro's chuckle came from the other side of the room, but there was no sign of him. "You can have your boy back, I have no desire to fight you today," his voice trailed off until the only thing that could be heard was the sound of the wind. Toguro's presence was gone. Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes, still gripping the hilt of his sword. All too soon, a low whimper broke his concentration.

Inuyasha lay on his side, shivering. The places where Toguro had cut him burned, but he did not bleed. The wounds were invisible, yet he felt them tearing at his skin. Inuyasha wanted release from this pain. He looked at his savior. Maybe he could help him.

Sesshoumaru approached Inuyasha's thin form, and stared down at him. Seeing Inuyasha like this gave him no satisfaction. Perhaps it would have in the past.

It took Inuyasha a few tries before he could speak. "Kill me," he said softly. His eyes were lifeless as he looked up at him, so different from the vivid gaze in his memories. "Please," he begged when Sesshoumaru did nothing.

Sesshoumaru growled, irritated. "You are useless to me like this, Inuyasha." He lifted him by his robe and threw him over his shoulder. "You are returning with me."

Inuyasha was just thinking how warm Sesshoumaru was when he succumbed to darkness.