Heya, Guess Who's Back? Ye-aw, c'est moi! Yeah, sorry, I'm kinda on sugar. I know, I know, cliche. But hey! Thanks to those very few who reviewed. Cheers to Dante and VG! Thanks a lot!
The day was as dry as it ever was in summer, since the fire. Sesshomaru glanced apathetically around his rooftop, wondering if anything interesting would happen today. The sky was blue, the sun was shining, and the plane was taking a nosedive--
"What in hell?" He bolted upright, staring as the airplane zoomed toward the ground, smoke trailing from the wings. He could almost hear the screams of the passengers, knowing that they would be absolutely terrified. He wondered idly if anyone he knew was on it . . .
Something lanced through his head. "Ungh!" Allowing for a moment of exreme weakness, he let his pain show as he bent double and clutched his head. Fingers digging tracks through his hair, he fell to his knees. He felt as though someone were drilling through his skull from the inside. Screaming accompanied it -- not his own, though he could tell that it sounded familiar, even through the pain.
As suddenly as it had come, the pain receded. He stood up slowly, not bothering to straighten his clothes or finger-comb his hair. The plane was hovering mere inches from the sea, shivering so violently that it looked as though it would collapse. Sesshomaru made a split-second decision -- he leapt.
Dodging over buildings, he raced toward the hovering aircraft, unable to forget the scream. He heard nothing but the ringing in his ears; he didn't even hear the astonished cries from the streets below. All he could concentrate on was saving that one person, the person whose cry he had heard. He wanted to -- he had to.
As he neared the craft, he saw the passengers being ferried out by helicopter. One young man looked petrified in particular, holding an unconscious girl in his arms. No, not a girl -- a young woman. Her black hair hung past her waist and swayed gently as she was handed aboard the heli. There was a reason she caught his eye, though. She was the source of the power which held the plane aloft, the power which everyone was doing their best to ignore. That was the reason she was unconscious. Her mind had overloaded.
Sesshomaru flew toward the helicopter, shooting the pilot a stern look that said to keep put. His hand closed over that of the short lieutenant who held the unconscious girl. "I'll be taking her, whether you mind or not."
The unpleasant man sputtered at this impudent young rascal, and sputtered some more at the sight of him hovering impassively in midair. "I-I never! I won't just hand her over to the first hallucination that comes my way! Now, get off with you!" He waved his hand, loosing his wrist and flapping at Sesshomaru to leave.
The demon clasped the man's wrist tightly. "She is my protegé; I am her guardian." He glared the man in the eye. "I will take her. Now."
The ugly lieutenant paled, nodding quickly and glancing around. He gulped when he saw one of his superiors watching him. "I can't right now--"
"I don't care about that. Give her to me." He was getting impatient, and it was starting to show.
He gulped again, and handed her to him without another word. As he sped off he heard that selfsame official yelling at him to stop and give her back and yelling at the lieutenant for being so stupid, screeching that he would be court-marshialed. He also heard the voice of the young man join that of the superior's in railing at the hapless man.
He smirked as he escaped the scene, heading straight back to his rooftop. The scenery flashed by once more, and the people on the streets started to scream just as the girl in his arms began to wake up. Stopping, whirling, the demon lord watched as the plane sank into the ocean, bubbling and descending faster and faster as the girl became fully conscious. He glanced at her, stilling the erratic beating of his heart, and said, "Do you know just what happened here?"
She looked up at him, eyes wide, innocent and confused. "I was on that plane!" Her shriek denoted near hysteria to him, so he traveled the rest of the short distance to his roof, ignoring her whimper of disbelief and the way she clutched at his shoulders. Setting her down, he stood again. She was disheveled, tired and clearly scared, of him and the fact that she might have died. Something in her eyes told him that she thought he had saved her, so he looked at her and said, "You did that. You were the one who kept the plane from sinking until everyone was saved."
Slowly, the scared look changed to one of pure horror as she comprehended the enormity of the deed she had done. "No . . . How . . . could I have . . . ?"
He almost started when he saw the tears gather in her eyes. Dropping his head into his hands for a moment, he knelt beside her and mumbled softly, "Don't cry."
She looked at him, really looked, and was stunned at what she saw. Golden eyes, long white hair, and the most inviting shoulder she had ever seen . . .
He was shocked, to say the least, she she leant forward and began to cry into his shoulder. Unsure of what to do, he put his arms around her, remembering the embrace of one he had once . . . known. His eyes glittered, full of his own unshed tears, and he held the only person he had ever cared for. The onyl person whose death he'd regretted.