Disclaimer: If I owned Inuyasha, than I would also have the power to keep
Fanfiction.net's server from going down every five days, but I don't, and I
cant.
AN: Sorry guys, I still have writer's block and I'm not sure how this chapter is going to go. I need feedback, this story will be over in the next five or so chapters, and I'm a little low on ideas at the moment.
The Need
Mother Knows Best
Sesshoumaru flexed his claws, in, out, in, out...How long would it take him to slaughter this woman? Not even three seconds, then again...He looked up and stared warily at Kagome, who was giving him an almost murderous glance. Inuyasha was playing Jacks with his children, and he? Well, he had been degraded enough already, he had been subdued by a child, and had the fact that he was mate-less rubbed in his face. But this was really ridiculous.
"Kagome dear, pass the hair spray."
His beautiful mane, his pride and joy, woe was he, it was being tortured by the smell of chemicals and sticky stuff. At the moment that "Higurashi- sama" had caught sight of his hair, she had insisted upon washing, brushing, and styling it. Being the man of dignity that he was, he had refused, that is until he had been reminded that Rin might like to run her hands through soft silky strands. So that, and a few warning looks from Moriko and Kagome had brought him into this situation. He could feel his mane be tugged back into what Kagome called a "low pony-tail" and he had sniffed indignantly, mumbling that dog demon's tails were much more appealing.
"All done Mr. Sesshoumaru dear."
He was about to speak when he realized that Higurashi-sama was eyeing his clothing with a scrutinizing look. She wouldn't dare, these clothes were of the finest silk, she wouldn't dare...
~*~*~*~Fifteen Minutes Later ~*~*~*~
He couldn't believe she had dared. He let out an angry grunt as he stepped out of the hut, dressed in an uncomfortably tight black shirt, and what Inuyasha had laughingly called "jeans" of the same color. He didn't see why his normal clothes couldn't be washed, for some reason Higurashi-sama had insisted upon him trying the odd clothes from the future, which Inuyasha was also sporting. Apparently Higurashi-sama did not approve of clothing from their era. He could have killed the woman, if, in fact, she had not been carefully grooming his father's pelt. Part of him felt a twinge, his mother used to do that. For a second he could feel his eyes cloud with memories from his childhood, before Inuyasha's mother had come into the picture. Thinking back on it, none of it had been her fault. The woman had been taken up as a mate by a dog demon, whom she loved. She had tried her best to be friends with Sesshoumaru, and had never tried to take the place of mother. But he had ended up pushing everyone, and everything away. He met Higurashi-sama's eyes and he recognized the warm look of caring and kindness that had been in Inuyasha's mother's eyes. Grunting merely for show he muttered.
"What about this?"
"I liked him better in the red."
"Red is my color."
"He looks good in it too."
"What about red with black?"
"I wonder if we could cut his hair?"
"Stop talking about me as if I'm not here!"
"What about curling it?"
"Shirley Sesshoumaru . . . it could work."
"No!"
"Pink!"
A few minutes later he was pushed into the hut carrying a set of pink clothes, at Kimyou's (the youngest girl remember?) request. Since when had he become such a pushover? Oh, yes, since the girl had learned that he hated to see females cry. He went through what seemed like millions of shades and clothes and shoes and other such things before they finally decided. A pair of black baggy "jeans", a white button up shirt with the top buttons undone, and his pelt, upon his insistence. (I have no fashion sense, a friend suggested this, if you disagree, review and tell me what you think he should wear, you're the readers.) Carefully setting the clothes aside. They went back to his training, this time, it was dangerous, this time, it was serious, this time...It was table manners, which they insisted apon seeing. Even though he had already been quite trained in them...Though it was a few centuries past.
AN: Writer's block, that is my excuse for this chapter and I'm going to cling to it like there is no tomorrow. Review! And don't forget your email addresses. I also need story ideas! SOMEONE GIVE ME A STORY IDEA!
AN: Sorry guys, I still have writer's block and I'm not sure how this chapter is going to go. I need feedback, this story will be over in the next five or so chapters, and I'm a little low on ideas at the moment.
The Need
Mother Knows Best
Sesshoumaru flexed his claws, in, out, in, out...How long would it take him to slaughter this woman? Not even three seconds, then again...He looked up and stared warily at Kagome, who was giving him an almost murderous glance. Inuyasha was playing Jacks with his children, and he? Well, he had been degraded enough already, he had been subdued by a child, and had the fact that he was mate-less rubbed in his face. But this was really ridiculous.
"Kagome dear, pass the hair spray."
His beautiful mane, his pride and joy, woe was he, it was being tortured by the smell of chemicals and sticky stuff. At the moment that "Higurashi- sama" had caught sight of his hair, she had insisted upon washing, brushing, and styling it. Being the man of dignity that he was, he had refused, that is until he had been reminded that Rin might like to run her hands through soft silky strands. So that, and a few warning looks from Moriko and Kagome had brought him into this situation. He could feel his mane be tugged back into what Kagome called a "low pony-tail" and he had sniffed indignantly, mumbling that dog demon's tails were much more appealing.
"All done Mr. Sesshoumaru dear."
He was about to speak when he realized that Higurashi-sama was eyeing his clothing with a scrutinizing look. She wouldn't dare, these clothes were of the finest silk, she wouldn't dare...
~*~*~*~Fifteen Minutes Later ~*~*~*~
He couldn't believe she had dared. He let out an angry grunt as he stepped out of the hut, dressed in an uncomfortably tight black shirt, and what Inuyasha had laughingly called "jeans" of the same color. He didn't see why his normal clothes couldn't be washed, for some reason Higurashi-sama had insisted upon him trying the odd clothes from the future, which Inuyasha was also sporting. Apparently Higurashi-sama did not approve of clothing from their era. He could have killed the woman, if, in fact, she had not been carefully grooming his father's pelt. Part of him felt a twinge, his mother used to do that. For a second he could feel his eyes cloud with memories from his childhood, before Inuyasha's mother had come into the picture. Thinking back on it, none of it had been her fault. The woman had been taken up as a mate by a dog demon, whom she loved. She had tried her best to be friends with Sesshoumaru, and had never tried to take the place of mother. But he had ended up pushing everyone, and everything away. He met Higurashi-sama's eyes and he recognized the warm look of caring and kindness that had been in Inuyasha's mother's eyes. Grunting merely for show he muttered.
"What about this?"
"I liked him better in the red."
"Red is my color."
"He looks good in it too."
"What about red with black?"
"I wonder if we could cut his hair?"
"Stop talking about me as if I'm not here!"
"What about curling it?"
"Shirley Sesshoumaru . . . it could work."
"No!"
"Pink!"
A few minutes later he was pushed into the hut carrying a set of pink clothes, at Kimyou's (the youngest girl remember?) request. Since when had he become such a pushover? Oh, yes, since the girl had learned that he hated to see females cry. He went through what seemed like millions of shades and clothes and shoes and other such things before they finally decided. A pair of black baggy "jeans", a white button up shirt with the top buttons undone, and his pelt, upon his insistence. (I have no fashion sense, a friend suggested this, if you disagree, review and tell me what you think he should wear, you're the readers.) Carefully setting the clothes aside. They went back to his training, this time, it was dangerous, this time, it was serious, this time...It was table manners, which they insisted apon seeing. Even though he had already been quite trained in them...Though it was a few centuries past.
AN: Writer's block, that is my excuse for this chapter and I'm going to cling to it like there is no tomorrow. Review! And don't forget your email addresses. I also need story ideas! SOMEONE GIVE ME A STORY IDEA!
