Without Rival
The sunlight glinted off his armor, his silver mane blazed white hot, and twin blades gleamed at his side -- the dog-demon was the quintessence of splendor.
"You needn't stand in the threshold, son." Inu no Taisho didn't bother turning around.
Sesshomaru stood put. "You're off to battle again." It wasn't a question.
"I'll be back." Now the Dog General whirled to face his child, flashing a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"How do you know?"
A clawed hand was waved dismissively. "After so many years you can expect the same routine."
Sesshomaru's brow furrowed, a tiny talon pensively tapped his chin. "Does that come with being a leader?"
"Hmm?" The great dog cocked his head. "What do you mean?"
"Does knowing you'll get what you want come with being strong?" he clarified.
"Sesshomaru," the daiyokai crooned, sitting down beside his heir, his son. "There is more to being a leader than giving orders and having others obey."
"I know." Sesshomaru nodded, eyes set and certain. "Sometimes you have to enforce your decisions with a little bite." His teeth clicked in the air for emphasis.
"No, you don't need that either. Certainly not all the time."
"So then how do you know no one else is better? How do you know you're without rival?"
Inu no Taisho blinked back into large amber eyes, studied the two parrallel sets of stripes, the little crescent moon, the defiant upturned lip. He smiled. "Sometimes," he grumbled in a voice like lazy thunder, "you don't need a body count to measure how much you mean to someone. I know I'll be coming back because you know I'm without rival."
He resumed his full imposing height, but stroked the boy's head one last time in gentle farewell.
Sesshomaru etched the memory of his father's depature into his young mind. How the great canine bounded into the sky, sinuous and self-respecting over the twilit clouds.