When he opened his eyes, he knew something wasn't right. Demons didn't sleep unless their power and energy were depleted. When they woke, they had their strength and power back. It was a life and death sleep, hardly for leisure. But as his eyes met the sky, he felt tired, his bones heavy. His mind was foggy, but he knew where he was; why had he fallen asleep in the first place? Again? How many nights had this been?
"He won't remember?"
As he walked through his land, people would raise their eyes to him and bow their heads for he was their Lord, but it all seemed unimpressive to him. He was moving, but it seemed so slow. He looked at the sky as the sun began to rise, coloring it orange and pink. The wind blew his hair gently, and for the first time, he noticed the chill that came with it. Winter would come soon. The lands would become barren. White and covered in snow and while there was beauty in it, there was also death. A thought that never entered his mind before, what was so different now?
"Will he be ok?"
He almost wanted to put his forehead in his hand. Perhaps he should visit his mother; she could have answers. He closed his eyes, and the face he had seen in his dreams appeared in his mind's eyes, her smile, whoever she was. Demons didn't dream; this had to be magic.
"If you truly love him, leave him be, do not lock him into a fate like his fathers."
Sesshomaru entered the moon places; still, time seemed to move slowly though here, time did not move at all.
"Mother," He spoke silently.
But the only thing he heard was that laughter that haunted him.
"You are everything he stands against, and you are the sole reason for his confusion and distraction; you will get him killed just as his father before him. Is this what you wish for him?"
"My son, why have you come to this place?"
He walked toward his mother. "I seek answers,"
"And your question?"
"Something is amiss,"
She rose an eyebrow "That is not a question,"
"I will remove you from his mind, his memory, his heart; it is the only way to save him from a fate worse than death,"
"I feel,- He started to say, unsure of how to word it, "Foggy," Sharing feelings it not something either of them did.
"Foggy?" She repeated as she drew closer to him, circling him.
"I have been sleeping,"
She stopped and looked at him. "Sleeping?"
"Will repeat everything I say?"
"Do you want my help or not?"
"Will he be ok?"
"Proceed,"
"What else?" She asked,
The girl he saw, no, that he would not tell her. That was too private—too much information. But also, he wasn't sure it was even real; it came and went from his mind. When she was there, it was clear, but when she wasn't, he didn't remember. Even now standing there he was forgetting.
"Time seems to be slower,"
"Yet I detect no time displacement,"
"I feel cold,"
At that, she looked him up and down. "You are unwell, yet I do not sense any magic on your person, just power."
"You must leave and not return,"
"Are you sure there is nothing else, something you are not telling me?" His mother asked,
He turned from her. "I must return," She was no help.
She could only watch as her son returned to the earthly realm. She sighed and opened her fan to fan her face. Short and to the point, as always.
He walked, and walked, much like he always did, but now he seemed to be lost. What was he looking for again? Was he even looking for something?
Power?
At that thought, pink power shimmered around his feet and up his body. Holy energy, purifying. But it didn't burn him, just confused him more. Called to him. Odd.
He followed the trail.
"To love is to kill him, Miko; what is your choice?"
It took him to a well. The power ended there. This was the bone eaters well.
"What are you doing here?"
Sesshomaru turned to see his half-brother, and the slowness vanished.
"Inuyasha,"
Inuyasha raised an eyebrow at the calm tone that came with his name,
"She isn't here,"
"She?" He asked,
Kagome touched the lip of the well, second-guessing herself. Was it right? "Isn't it taking away his choice,"
"Choice, has he not made his feelings clear? Does he not turn away from you at every blush you grace him with, or do you need him to say it out loud to you? He is sparing your feelings because, Miko, he does care about you; this will be selfless, the best act of love you can give, release him, free him, give him his power back."
"K, never mind" Inuyasha turned and walked away, but Sesshomaru blocked his path. "Time has been altered," He wasn't sure if he was asking or telling.
"What are you talking about?"
Suddenly he felt like he needed to sleep again.
"Do you not feel it also?"
"I don't feel anything."
"You do love him, don't you?"
"Yes"
Inuyasha looked back at the well, then back at his brother. "Can I go, asshole, or are you looking for a fight?"
"What are you not telling me?"
"Look, I don't know what you want; Naraku is dead, Rin is with Kaede, Sango and Miroku went back to the slayer village, Shippo is at school, Kikyo is dead, and my best friend is gone, everyone got what they wanted, but me," Same story.
What they wanted? What did he get?
As if Inuyasha had read his mind, he sighed, "You have a whole kingdom to run; you have surpassed our old man. Can you not feel it, the power rolling off you?"
Sesshomaru raised his hand and looked at it, "Could it be that my body is weak and unstable? Our great and terrible father's body was larger than mine," He was talking more to himself than to Inuyasha. Perhaps he gained this power sooner than his father had; perhaps he was young still.
Inuyasha rolled his eyes and turned away. "More like your heart,"
Sesshomaru watched his brother leave, but his confusion still remained. When did he surpass his father? He could hardly recall the battle with Naraku. Would he be able to adjust, to hold on to this power, or was it like wielding Tessaiga? Brief and strong but unable to hold onto it?
Impossible. He decided he needed time to adjust to it, or maybe he needed to release. Test it?
He returned to the West as night began to darken the sky.
"Will he be ok?"
Just as before, everyone bowed their heads, parted from his path, and creatures hurried away from him as if the power rolling off him would evaporate them where they stood.
His father's house was busy, alive once more, but once more, everyone around him seemed to be moving faster than he was. Had something important to do.
No one offered him a word; no one seemed to care as they went on with their duty, and he continued to walk the halls of his fathers- no, his house.
He entered a garden area; the garners, or what he assumed were the ground keepers, bowed and retreated as he stood in the middle, looking up at the sky. It was growing darker, later, and colder. Soon lanterns were lit with fire to break up the darkness and give light to those who needed it.
Sesshomaru took out his sword and looked at the blade. It sang loud, but what song it sang, he could not tell. Since when did he not understand Tenseiga's song? Why was it singing in the first place? No one he knew was dead, and even if they were, would he wield it to save them?
He could; he had that power.
Power.
But far away, Totosi wiped away a tear "Poor sword,"
"I love him,"
"I know,"
Kagome touched the lip of the well and looked back at the sky, toward the West. "I'm sorry, I have to go,"
She jumped down the well and sealed it from the other side.
The wind blew through his hair, and he closed his eyes and smelt the frost that would soon come. The cold made his heavy bones dare he say, hurt. He put his sword back at his side, his only companion, the only one he could trust, and even it knew something wasn't right.
He sat, then laid back and watched the stars above. His eyes grew heavy, but the chill that went up his spine kept him awake. The noise around him, the people coming and going. Was he the only one who really noticed?
Was he the only one who felt cold in this kingdom?
Was this what loneliness felt like?
Was this what supreme power felt like?
He could come and go and do whatever he wanted. But all he wanted to do now was sleep, but yet, for four months now, his sleep was haunted by a dream, a face, a voice, a smile he could not remember when awake.
His eyes closed, too exhausted to care. Maybe tomorrow, when he opened his eyes, it would all make sense. Be right because right now, he felt lost in time, missing a piece of something important.
Maybe he would find it in these dreams.
"Will he be ok,"
"He won't even remember you, it will be like you never even existed to him,"