Disclaimer: Rin, Sesshoumaru and all other characters from Inuyasha belong to Rumiko Takahashi and the other various entities involved with the production of the manga and anime. I do not profit from this piece, nor is any copyright infringement intended by it.
The song, "Til I Hear It From You," was written in 1992 by Robin Wilson and Jesse Valenzuela of the Gin Blossoms with Marshall Crenshaw. It was released on the 1995 Empire Records soundtrack. It is copyrighted by A&M Records.
Until I Hear It From You
"She wants to stay."
The four words gnawed at his mind as Sesshoumaru stared across the grassy meadow, absently watching the green blades sway in the breeze. His face was calm; each muscle placid and unrevealing—as it always was. Inside though, he was seething. He could feel the phrase seeping into his blood, boring through his chest and into his very soul.
It made him want to rip the bright yellow sun out of the cloudless fucking sky.
Sesshoumaru always told her the choice to return would be hers to make. He knew there was the chance that she would want to stay in this village, living the life of a normal human girl; a life full of all the things he knew he could never give her. It was the very reason he left her there in the first place, all those years ago. Hearing it though . . . made it starkly real.
"She has met someone recently . . . someone she cares for very deeply."
Sesshoumaru had no idea what possessed that old hag to tell him of Rin's liaisons with the phantom boy—her alleged suitor. He didn't need to know. He didn't want to know. It was not as though Rin was his. She was a grown woman. She could make these decisions for herself. She didn't need his permission.
He was not jealous.
Besides, if this boy was so important, Rin would have told him about the relationship. The miko was obviously senile.
Certainly Rin would have said something . . . wouldn't she?
Of course she would. They did not keep secrets from each other. They never had. Granted, Sesshoumaru never divulged more information than necessary, not being the conversationalist his ward was. Rin was quite the chatterbox. She would not have been able to help but tell him. There was no sense in doubting the fact. It only served to frustrate him further.
"I've even heard talk of marriage."
The very thought of Rin's rumored nuptials bothered Sesshoumaru to an irrational extent. He shouldn't even care.
No. He did not care.
It wasn't as though he was going to marry her. His relationship with his had never been like that. Even if he were to entertain the possibility, it simply would not work. They were too different. Rin was such a delicate creature—her human body so easily felled by the slightest of maladies. But despite her innate vulnerability as a human, she was boisterous. Fiery. A troublemaker, but without malice or intent.
She was completely fascinating.
Ridiculous . . .
He shook away the thoughts. She would be gone before he knew it anyway; taken by time in the blink of an eye. Besides, what would he do with a wife anyway? It wasn't as though he needed companionship. He was content with solitude. He had spent decades in self-imposed isolation. It was a quiet, simple way of living; one perfectly suited to the antisocial daiyoukai. Returning to that life would be easy.
It would be quiet. Very quiet . . . without her around.
Sesshoumaru bit back a growl of displeasure. Why was he even fixating on any of this? All that old witch had told him was hearsay; a load of gossip and rumors collected from foolish, simple-minded human farmers who had nothing better to do with their time than to engage in idle prattle. He had no reason to bother with any of it.
"Sesshoumaru-sama!" a voice like song called from across the field, the sound announcing the arrival of the young brunette with the lovely smile.
Everything was fine. Nothing had changed. Nothing would change. Things would be as they had always been.
Until I hear it from you.