Chapter 11

"When we are born, we cry, that we are come
To this great stage of fools."-William Shakespeare

Sesshoumaru was not amused. In fact, he was seriously put out. Upon hearing the flea's words, he had gone through the usual stages- shock, denial, and then anger. Now he was simply annoyed. The infant had not ceased crying for more than five minutes since they had moved from that location in order to think. Father or no father, if it wasn't for the fact that destroying him would also cause Sesshoumaru himself to disappear, he would be sorely tempted to do it.

The youkai lord paced in front of the fire, which Inuyasha had built in hopes that it might cause the infantile wailing to cease. It hadn't. Nothing had. Nothing would. It would never stop crying until it drove Sesshoumaru to the brink of madness. He was confident that his father, if such a whining whelp of a creature could possibly be such, was exacting future revenge for all those times that Sesshoumaru would doubtless act in the same manner. Or had acted. Except the baby couldn't know how his future son would have existed. It was past to Sesshoumaru, but future to the child. Wasn't it? Except now the child from the past was in the future and he hadn't yet grown up and….Sesshoumaru lifted his hand to his forehead, willing himself to think of other thoughts before he developed more of a headache than he already had. Not for the first time in the last couple hours did he wonder if Inuyasha and his miko had ever really tried to take in the full scope of moving in time. He sincerely doubted they had, or they would have been rendered incapable of thinking coherent thoughts.  And what of Masuyo? Would the switch cause even new problems? Of course, if the youkai was found within the now-missing baby's room, perhaps he would merely be captured so that the true matter could be found out. Masuyo was bound to be greatly weakened by the ritual. Yet, it was impossible to say what precisely would happen. Did happen. An almost imperceptible grimace flitted over Sesshoumaru's features.

He turned his thoughts again, shifting to eye the crying bundle skeptically. Had he ever behaved like that? No. Absolutely not. He could not have been this annoying. In fact, had someone informed Sesshoumaru that anything could even be this exasperating, he wouldn't have believed them. Ten Jakens put together weren't this annoying. Maybe that is taking it too far.  Alright. Ten Jakens put together would be about equal to that lump of wriggling, whimpering flesh.

Inuyasha was also reaching his wits end. He was currently holding the child in his arms, a duty that Sesshoumaru had gotten out of by pointing out he only had one arm so he could clearly not hold the baby properly. Inuyasha thought he was full of it. He was fairly certain that one could hold an infant in one arm, but as it was their future on the lines, he didn't push the issue. Reluctant as he was to admit it, there were times when he could be wrong. "Stop already, will you!" Inuyasha growled at the baby, struggling to keep his calm.

"Ah, Lord Inuyasha. As little knowledge as I have of children, I still must say that I do not think that yelling at it will help." Myouga shrunk back a bit at the death stare that the hanyou gave him.

Gritting his teeth, Inuyasha was about to respond with a few rude phases when suddenly he felt a rather hard pull on the front locks of his hair. He grimaced, lowering golden eyes to the now amused child. Only after the initial pain had passed did the silence sink in.

Sesshoumaru, who had forsaken pacing and was now sitting with his back against the tree and his hand shoved through his bangs, fell still at the sudden peace. Tell me he didn't kill it. Wait. No. We're still here. He couldn't have killed it. His breath escaped through his teeth in a hiss, head slowly lifting. "Is it finished?" He couldn't have been aware of the sheer hope that pervaded the hushed whisper. He cringed as the infant opened his mouth, certain that another round of crying would ensue. Instead, the child simply yawned, giggled, and with one tiny first curled around Inuyasha's captive hair, fell asleep.

As for the hanyou, he looked like the helpless victim to fate that he was. His head was cocked to one side and he was unable to straighten it without pulling his hair from the grip of the kid. "Do something." He sounded almost panicked, but he managed to speak softly all the same. He couldn't risk another bout of tears. His ears just couldn't take it.

A malicious grin curved Sesshoumaru's lips as he straightened from his almost crouching position against the tree. He stretched his legs lazily out before him, head once again resting on the trunk behind him. The youkai regarded his brother with hooded eyes, the gleam of deviltry still quite apparent in them, "Such as? Really, little brother, you can't survive a crick in your neck for the sake of your very own father?  How selfish."

"I don't see you volunteering to sacrifice your hair." was the growled response.

"Of course not. But I think you flatter yourself in calling that shaggy main of yours 'hair'." He casually lifted his claws to work out a snarl in his otherwise perfectly smooth hair. They had taken turns earlier watching over the child as they washed off the filth from the fight. Sesshoumaru had, not surprisingly, taken over twice as long as his brother. It seems the hanyou was not intelligent enough to realize that the longer he took, the more of a break he got from the kid. It worked to Sesshoumaru's advantage nonetheless.

"Maybe I do." Inuyasha snorted in response, still trying to delicately extract his hair from the child's grip without reawakening it. Glancing up from his task, a smirk formed on his face, "But at least I wasn't careless enough to lose an arm." 

The jibe hit home, evident by the gold fire that burned in Sesshoumaru's eyes. Inuyasha just continued to smirk, aware of the fact that his older brother could do nothing while he held the baby. It acted as a perfect shield. Disgusted at his own lack of resource, Sesshoumaru sniffed haughtily and turned his head away, "Hiding behind infants now, little brother? How degrading."

Aware of where this fight was heading, and his own ears throbbing, Myouga cut in at quite a risk to his life, "Ah, my lords. If you continue to argue, that might disturb the Inutaisho."

The usage of their father's title sobered them both and they fell into a sulky silence. After about ten minutes, Inuyasha broke it, "So, what are we going to do?"

Sesshoumaru didn't respond at first, fixing his eyes on the flames of the fire. When he spoke, it was in a deceptively soft voice that only thinly masked his true ire, "Watch over the child until we learn more about the situation." He couldn't bring himself to call the babe his father. His father had been a strong warrior, despite his fascination with human females. His father was fierce, but that child in his half-brother's arms was defenseless.

Nonetheless, Sesshoumaru would see that it was taken care of and guarded closely. He could do no less for his father. Out of all the creatures the youkai lord had met, his father still held the sole position of true respect. Respect. Not love. Sesshoumaru had decided long ago that he would never love. Respect and duty he understood, and it was respect and duty that would guide him now. He regarded Inuyasha through the flames, oddly struck by the image of the hanyou and the babe. It seemed right, somehow, in a way that Sesshoumaru couldn't define. Perhaps it was the slight tightening of arms around the child, or the strange glint in Inuyasha's eyes as he looked down at the sleeping bundle. Whatever it was, Sesshoumaru felt almost bereft. It was almost as if… as if the hanyou loved the babe. Their father. No…not love. Something close though. It was caring. It was then that the importance of the imagery fully struck the youkai. Inuyasha looked the same holding the bundle as Sesshoumaru had felt when he held Rin upon returning her life with the Tensaiga.

That's because you care about her, as well.

I don't. I merely feel compelled to protect her now. She is mine.

And where does that compulsion come from? Duty? She showed you caring when you were weak. It was not duty that compelled her to do so.

Sesshoumaru jerked his head away from the sight of his brother. His fangs bared briefly in the firelight, irritation filling his eyes. He didn't care. Not about his brother, not about the girl that followed him around. And definitely not about Jaken. Sesshoumaru cared about Sesshoumaru.

So why did he suddenly feel so confused?

A/N:

So, when I first started writing fanfiction, I swore I wouldn't be one of those authors who would go through months without updates. Oops. This summer has been an extremely stressful one for me for reasons I'm not going to go into. I also had serious writer's block with this story (still somewhat do) and never seemed to have time to get to it.  But those are still excuses, so I apologize to anyone still reading! I can't promise I'll be much better in the coming months, though hopefully I'll get a solid idea of where I'm heading with the story and get back to writing a bit more on it daily. Reviews are much appreciated! Let me know what you thought of this chapter. Sometimes just the right thing will be said in a review and it'll chip away at my writer's block. ^_^