A Being as Old
Golden. Sesshomaru knew the color very well.
His own eyes, his father's, his mother's, his…
No.
The setting sun made the remaining snow glow golden. The winter was over. Sesshomaru stood there, watching as the sky became red.
Another color he knew well.
You won't use Tenseiga, he had practically commanded. Insolent, stubborn half-breed. As if Sesshomaru ever would have.
Would he?
Sesshomaru was angry. In the end, he had been robbed.
The taiyoukai was surrounded by white, golden, and red. He felt mother nature was mocking him with those colors, pointing her finger and laughing at his ways, his stubbornness. He refused to question himself, though. A being as old as Sesshomaru had his pride.
Hanyou were beginning to be more common those days. Soon, youkai blood would be diluted completely, or so it seemed. The taiyoukai was familiar with a few of them, even respected them, and it made him uneasy for all the wrong reasons.
Still, to second-guess himself would be ridiculous. A being as old as Sesshomaru had his convictions.
The dog demon turned around, leaving his brother's final resting place. The reckless boy had matured to a strong-willed man, and this one had been dead for a long time. Sesshomaru was always angry when he went there, but not in his usual, bloodthirsty way. It was in a way that would have made it hard to breathe if he were anyone else, but a being as old as Sesshomaru had…
What?
This isn't grief. I hated you.
But he was alone in his hatred.
I thought you were too stubborn to ever die… Inuyasha.
