A/N: Thank you all for the reviews, especially baka deshi who tried really,
really hard to come up with something negative to say about my story. You
have all made me incredibly happy.
I would like to clarify that Miroku tells Kagome to be careful because while Inuyasha is obviously protective of her, hanyou are notoriously unstable, and Inuyasha has already proven (to Miroku at least) that he can be a tad violent.
Warning: the following chapter contains some unpleasant things involving Rin's father.
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.
Synthetic Emotions
The man who stepped out of the vehicle was not precisely what Sesshomaru would have envisioned. His build might once have been compact, but it had long since settled to fat with middle age and soft living. His black hair was peppered grey, slicked back from a high forehead. The face illuminated by the bright security lights was jowly and marred with frown lines. His suit was wilted from his trip.
Sesshomaru didn't even know the man's name, but he recognized him immediately as the master of the house. The youkai glanced back at Ryoko, lying in her stupor, then let his eyes drift over the disaster of her bedroom. This was the man who paid to feed her habits, and who had bought all the finery that adorned her house. This was the man whose daughter never spoke a word, and whose wife was currently languishing in the effects of Tranquility.
Weren't these two supposed to be his responsibility?
That 'thing' in Sesshomaru was fighting to click into place once again. He could feel it straining to turn over completely. But it couldn't. There was something it the way. Something that kept it from doing. . . whatever it was it was trying to do. That sense of an empty space where something ought to be came back to the youkai acutely. He almost felt as though he could feel the edges of it, pulsing quietly as that thing struggled to click.
Sesshomaru's hands fisted at his sides. He did not understand what his brain was telling him. The artificial fibers that made up his muscles and sinews tightened, and he felt a rush of power along his nerves.
It was as though he body was preparing for a fight, but there was nothing to indicate any threat to his mistress, or himself.
A malfunction. . .?
All his systems seemed to be operating properly. So why was he responding this way at the sight of a man he didn't know? Even if he was the husband of a pathetic addict, there was nothing in his codes that said he was dangerous just because he didn't stop the woman from hurting herself, just as there was no article which made him interfere when she behaved so dangerously stupid. He was only required to respond to immediate physical dangers.
There was no reason for this response, even if he was responsible for Rin's bruises. . .
Thinking of the girl's fading bruises and the bandage on her wrist made the energy racing through him double in intensity, and for a brief instant, something came to life in that empty space.
Unfortunately, it was gone again before he could identify it, leaving only a vague afterimage in Sesshomaru's mind. Try as he might, he couldn't tell what it was inside him that so desperately wanted to activate.
The sound of the front door opening snapped Sesshomaru back to reality. The man was entering the house. Outside, the youkai driver was pulling the car around to the side of the house to be unloaded. The sound of heavy footsteps climbing the stairs preluded the bedroom door flying open.
Sesshomaru turned expectantly to see the man enter. Up close, the youkai could smell his cologne, and see eyes the color of black coffee. For his part, the man took in Sesshomaru's presence with a noncommental grunt, his gaze only briefly skimming over the tall, silver haired Companion youkai, to fall on his wife. At the sight of her, his wrinkles deepened, and the lines bracketing his mouth crumpled in a heavy frown.
"I assume you are Ryoko's new pet," the man said after a moment.
Sesshomaru wondered briefly at the choice of words. "I am Ryoko's property."
"I am Nakamura Kyosuke. Does that name mean anything to you?" the man asked.
"No," Sesshomaru told him honestly. "Ought it to?"
Nakamura's brow lowered over his dark eyes and a muscle jumped in his cheek. "It better mean 'God'," he growled, rather unimpressively. "I own everything she owns."
"I was given to Ryoko as a gift from her sister. Legally, I do not belong to you."
Nakamura glared at Sesshomaru, who met his angry stare without blinking. Inside him, the edges of that empty space were throbbing, seeming to anticipate some command from the void, but whatever it was in him remained dormant. The pieces didn't fit into place.
Eventually, the man looked away with a disgruntled snort.
"I'll have the bitch talk to you once she sobers up," he said harshly, then turned and left.
*~*~*
Later that night Sesshomaru was in the room Ryoko had specified as his, reading a novel by a popular author and filing away the sloppily written prose in his memory incase it should prove useful in the future, when he heard Nakamura's feet once again pounding on the stairs. The youkai set the book aside and stood incase the man should seek another confrontation. The loud footfalls stopped short of Sesshomaru's room, though, turning aside somewhere father up the hall.
Not the master bedroom, he noted, brows flexing slightly as he considered. Nakamura had come this way, and his steps hadn't slapped against the tile of the bathroom.
Sesshomaru reasoned where the man must be the same instant he heard the sound of a hand striking flesh. That sound ran down the youkai's spine like melting ice, and suddenly his chest felt tighter.
The sound again, followed by a soft, almost inaudible whimper.
Manifestly that thing which had tried so hard before to snap into place redoubled its efforts. He could feel it straining against what was blocking it, trying to break through. The normally silent operations of Sesshomaru's brain began whirring, mildly at first, then with greater and greater force as they strained to support whatever it was that thing was trying to do.
By the time the youkai's sharp ears caught the sound of bedsprings yielding to the weight of a large body, every one of his systems was buzzing in protest. The edges of the void were pounding inward, and that bit of him hiding in the emptiness was flaring to life and disappearing, on and off, on and off, but never staying or making any sense. It couldn't quite connect to the rest of him. . . not until the other piece fell into place. Not until it clicked.
Sesshomaru heard a grunt through the walls, and a few moments later another, and another after that. The disgusting sound came just a little quicker every time, coinciding with the now rhythmic creaking of the springs. There was no way for the youkai to mistake what was happening. His knuckles cracked ominously as he curled his fingers into talons, but he did nothing else.
His codes gave him no course of action. He was not designed for law enforcement, nor for protecting anyone but his owner. Ryoko had never even hinted that he should extend that protection to her daughter. But she had given him an order regarding her husband. 'Just stay out of his way.'
He could not defend the girl. With his brain humming loudly, he didn't even question that he wanted to.
After minutes of listening to the grunting, and the groaning of the box spring, and the frantic buzzing of his own circuits, Sesshomaru heard a final, stifled moan. He caught the smell of human musk even from the other room, and heard the retreating feet of Nakamura as they thumped back down stairs. It was another moment before his functions wound down, leaving the youkai trembling slightly.
Sesshomaru caught himself on his chair before he could fall.
What the hell had just happened?
Once he was sure he could stand, the youkai straightened and hurried out of his appointed room, down the hall to Rin's bedroom.
Nakamura hadn't even bothered to shut the door when he was through. The scene which greeted Sesshomaru was incongruous with the girl's bedroom, with its posters and stuffed animals, and the childish curtains printed with strange little horses in unreal shades of teal and pink.
Rin was lying on the bed, looking up at the ceiling with lost eyes. The right side of her face was red and puffy. It would be a new bruise tomorrow. She was breathing raggedly through her mouth, almost sobbing, but there were no tears on her cheeks or in her eyes. Her hands were still above her head, and her wrists, too, promised new bruises. Her shorts and panties had been left hanging from one ankle.
An unfamiliar feeling washed through Sesshomaru at the sight, as though his chest was slowly filling with boiling water. And another feeling, like something inside him were being ripped into tiny little pieces. He did not know what to do with either sensation. They were nothing he was prepared for.
He moved into the room tentatively, thinking that he should speak, but not knowing what he ought to say. His programming failed to cover this situation. If Rin had been his owner, he would have kept Nakamura from her. He would have fought him, if necessary, even killed him.
But he was not Rin's. He belonged to Ryoko. And Ryoko had told him in no uncertain terms not to interfere with Nakamura's doings.
His hands still shook slightly as he touched the prone girl. Her breath caught in her throat at the light contact, and her eyes began to focus. She turned to look at him.
Then, in one sudden move, she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. Gently, Sesshomaru circled the girl in his arms, pulling her into a careful embrace. Still he said nothing. What could he say? That he could not protect her? A bitter taste formed on the back of the youkai's tongue, but he ignored it in favor of the girl in his arms, who was now shivering uncontrollably. He stoked her back in what he thought might be a comforting manner.
She seemed to calm slightly at his touch, but tremors continued to wrack her body and she was still crying tearlessly.
On impulse, Sesshomaru lifted the girl from her bed and carried her to the bathroom, where he sat her gingerly on the counter top, all the while watching for the any wince or hitch in her already labored respiration that would imply he had hurt her. When he was reasonably sure she was alright for the moment, he left her to start filling the tub with water. When he finished ajusting the water temperature, he returned to the girl quickly.
Brushing the hair back from her face, he committed to memory her pained expression, the somewhat dazed look in her eyes, the split in her lip, and the blood trickling in a thin trail from her nose.
"This will not happen again," he said, finally finding his voice. He wasn't sure how he could prevent it, but it would if he had to rewrite his own codes to do it.
Against all odds, Rin smiled at him.
*~*~*
Kikyo traced her fingers over the cafe's window, weaving abstract patterns only she could see. Her eyes gazed vacantly back at her from her reflection on the darkened glass.
She had seen Inuyasha leave here earlier today, following some slip of a girl who had somehow come to inherit him. The coldfire had spiked to a new intensity within her when she saw that girl. Did Inuyasha lie to her as well? Did that machine claim to love her, as he had once upon a time claimed to love Kikyo?
Or was that cruel lie only for one woman?
"Inuyasha," the Replica murmured tonelessly. Her lips quirked in the shadow of a smile, and she laid both hands flat against the window. Energy pooled in her palms, building just under the skin waiting.
When she released it, the glass exploded inward.
*~*~*
A/N: This was very hard chapter for me to write, and I ended up spending more time with Sesshomaru and Rin than was my original intention. Please forgive me for what I did to Rin.
Until next time, review!
I would like to clarify that Miroku tells Kagome to be careful because while Inuyasha is obviously protective of her, hanyou are notoriously unstable, and Inuyasha has already proven (to Miroku at least) that he can be a tad violent.
Warning: the following chapter contains some unpleasant things involving Rin's father.
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.
Synthetic Emotions
The man who stepped out of the vehicle was not precisely what Sesshomaru would have envisioned. His build might once have been compact, but it had long since settled to fat with middle age and soft living. His black hair was peppered grey, slicked back from a high forehead. The face illuminated by the bright security lights was jowly and marred with frown lines. His suit was wilted from his trip.
Sesshomaru didn't even know the man's name, but he recognized him immediately as the master of the house. The youkai glanced back at Ryoko, lying in her stupor, then let his eyes drift over the disaster of her bedroom. This was the man who paid to feed her habits, and who had bought all the finery that adorned her house. This was the man whose daughter never spoke a word, and whose wife was currently languishing in the effects of Tranquility.
Weren't these two supposed to be his responsibility?
That 'thing' in Sesshomaru was fighting to click into place once again. He could feel it straining to turn over completely. But it couldn't. There was something it the way. Something that kept it from doing. . . whatever it was it was trying to do. That sense of an empty space where something ought to be came back to the youkai acutely. He almost felt as though he could feel the edges of it, pulsing quietly as that thing struggled to click.
Sesshomaru's hands fisted at his sides. He did not understand what his brain was telling him. The artificial fibers that made up his muscles and sinews tightened, and he felt a rush of power along his nerves.
It was as though he body was preparing for a fight, but there was nothing to indicate any threat to his mistress, or himself.
A malfunction. . .?
All his systems seemed to be operating properly. So why was he responding this way at the sight of a man he didn't know? Even if he was the husband of a pathetic addict, there was nothing in his codes that said he was dangerous just because he didn't stop the woman from hurting herself, just as there was no article which made him interfere when she behaved so dangerously stupid. He was only required to respond to immediate physical dangers.
There was no reason for this response, even if he was responsible for Rin's bruises. . .
Thinking of the girl's fading bruises and the bandage on her wrist made the energy racing through him double in intensity, and for a brief instant, something came to life in that empty space.
Unfortunately, it was gone again before he could identify it, leaving only a vague afterimage in Sesshomaru's mind. Try as he might, he couldn't tell what it was inside him that so desperately wanted to activate.
The sound of the front door opening snapped Sesshomaru back to reality. The man was entering the house. Outside, the youkai driver was pulling the car around to the side of the house to be unloaded. The sound of heavy footsteps climbing the stairs preluded the bedroom door flying open.
Sesshomaru turned expectantly to see the man enter. Up close, the youkai could smell his cologne, and see eyes the color of black coffee. For his part, the man took in Sesshomaru's presence with a noncommental grunt, his gaze only briefly skimming over the tall, silver haired Companion youkai, to fall on his wife. At the sight of her, his wrinkles deepened, and the lines bracketing his mouth crumpled in a heavy frown.
"I assume you are Ryoko's new pet," the man said after a moment.
Sesshomaru wondered briefly at the choice of words. "I am Ryoko's property."
"I am Nakamura Kyosuke. Does that name mean anything to you?" the man asked.
"No," Sesshomaru told him honestly. "Ought it to?"
Nakamura's brow lowered over his dark eyes and a muscle jumped in his cheek. "It better mean 'God'," he growled, rather unimpressively. "I own everything she owns."
"I was given to Ryoko as a gift from her sister. Legally, I do not belong to you."
Nakamura glared at Sesshomaru, who met his angry stare without blinking. Inside him, the edges of that empty space were throbbing, seeming to anticipate some command from the void, but whatever it was in him remained dormant. The pieces didn't fit into place.
Eventually, the man looked away with a disgruntled snort.
"I'll have the bitch talk to you once she sobers up," he said harshly, then turned and left.
*~*~*
Later that night Sesshomaru was in the room Ryoko had specified as his, reading a novel by a popular author and filing away the sloppily written prose in his memory incase it should prove useful in the future, when he heard Nakamura's feet once again pounding on the stairs. The youkai set the book aside and stood incase the man should seek another confrontation. The loud footfalls stopped short of Sesshomaru's room, though, turning aside somewhere father up the hall.
Not the master bedroom, he noted, brows flexing slightly as he considered. Nakamura had come this way, and his steps hadn't slapped against the tile of the bathroom.
Sesshomaru reasoned where the man must be the same instant he heard the sound of a hand striking flesh. That sound ran down the youkai's spine like melting ice, and suddenly his chest felt tighter.
The sound again, followed by a soft, almost inaudible whimper.
Manifestly that thing which had tried so hard before to snap into place redoubled its efforts. He could feel it straining against what was blocking it, trying to break through. The normally silent operations of Sesshomaru's brain began whirring, mildly at first, then with greater and greater force as they strained to support whatever it was that thing was trying to do.
By the time the youkai's sharp ears caught the sound of bedsprings yielding to the weight of a large body, every one of his systems was buzzing in protest. The edges of the void were pounding inward, and that bit of him hiding in the emptiness was flaring to life and disappearing, on and off, on and off, but never staying or making any sense. It couldn't quite connect to the rest of him. . . not until the other piece fell into place. Not until it clicked.
Sesshomaru heard a grunt through the walls, and a few moments later another, and another after that. The disgusting sound came just a little quicker every time, coinciding with the now rhythmic creaking of the springs. There was no way for the youkai to mistake what was happening. His knuckles cracked ominously as he curled his fingers into talons, but he did nothing else.
His codes gave him no course of action. He was not designed for law enforcement, nor for protecting anyone but his owner. Ryoko had never even hinted that he should extend that protection to her daughter. But she had given him an order regarding her husband. 'Just stay out of his way.'
He could not defend the girl. With his brain humming loudly, he didn't even question that he wanted to.
After minutes of listening to the grunting, and the groaning of the box spring, and the frantic buzzing of his own circuits, Sesshomaru heard a final, stifled moan. He caught the smell of human musk even from the other room, and heard the retreating feet of Nakamura as they thumped back down stairs. It was another moment before his functions wound down, leaving the youkai trembling slightly.
Sesshomaru caught himself on his chair before he could fall.
What the hell had just happened?
Once he was sure he could stand, the youkai straightened and hurried out of his appointed room, down the hall to Rin's bedroom.
Nakamura hadn't even bothered to shut the door when he was through. The scene which greeted Sesshomaru was incongruous with the girl's bedroom, with its posters and stuffed animals, and the childish curtains printed with strange little horses in unreal shades of teal and pink.
Rin was lying on the bed, looking up at the ceiling with lost eyes. The right side of her face was red and puffy. It would be a new bruise tomorrow. She was breathing raggedly through her mouth, almost sobbing, but there were no tears on her cheeks or in her eyes. Her hands were still above her head, and her wrists, too, promised new bruises. Her shorts and panties had been left hanging from one ankle.
An unfamiliar feeling washed through Sesshomaru at the sight, as though his chest was slowly filling with boiling water. And another feeling, like something inside him were being ripped into tiny little pieces. He did not know what to do with either sensation. They were nothing he was prepared for.
He moved into the room tentatively, thinking that he should speak, but not knowing what he ought to say. His programming failed to cover this situation. If Rin had been his owner, he would have kept Nakamura from her. He would have fought him, if necessary, even killed him.
But he was not Rin's. He belonged to Ryoko. And Ryoko had told him in no uncertain terms not to interfere with Nakamura's doings.
His hands still shook slightly as he touched the prone girl. Her breath caught in her throat at the light contact, and her eyes began to focus. She turned to look at him.
Then, in one sudden move, she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. Gently, Sesshomaru circled the girl in his arms, pulling her into a careful embrace. Still he said nothing. What could he say? That he could not protect her? A bitter taste formed on the back of the youkai's tongue, but he ignored it in favor of the girl in his arms, who was now shivering uncontrollably. He stoked her back in what he thought might be a comforting manner.
She seemed to calm slightly at his touch, but tremors continued to wrack her body and she was still crying tearlessly.
On impulse, Sesshomaru lifted the girl from her bed and carried her to the bathroom, where he sat her gingerly on the counter top, all the while watching for the any wince or hitch in her already labored respiration that would imply he had hurt her. When he was reasonably sure she was alright for the moment, he left her to start filling the tub with water. When he finished ajusting the water temperature, he returned to the girl quickly.
Brushing the hair back from her face, he committed to memory her pained expression, the somewhat dazed look in her eyes, the split in her lip, and the blood trickling in a thin trail from her nose.
"This will not happen again," he said, finally finding his voice. He wasn't sure how he could prevent it, but it would if he had to rewrite his own codes to do it.
Against all odds, Rin smiled at him.
*~*~*
Kikyo traced her fingers over the cafe's window, weaving abstract patterns only she could see. Her eyes gazed vacantly back at her from her reflection on the darkened glass.
She had seen Inuyasha leave here earlier today, following some slip of a girl who had somehow come to inherit him. The coldfire had spiked to a new intensity within her when she saw that girl. Did Inuyasha lie to her as well? Did that machine claim to love her, as he had once upon a time claimed to love Kikyo?
Or was that cruel lie only for one woman?
"Inuyasha," the Replica murmured tonelessly. Her lips quirked in the shadow of a smile, and she laid both hands flat against the window. Energy pooled in her palms, building just under the skin waiting.
When she released it, the glass exploded inward.
*~*~*
A/N: This was very hard chapter for me to write, and I ended up spending more time with Sesshomaru and Rin than was my original intention. Please forgive me for what I did to Rin.
Until next time, review!