An alternate fanwork by Wolfye Productions.
Hey guys, thanks for putting up with my silly filler chapter. It means a lot to me that you all read it. I've just noticed that I'm not that good with character dialogue whilst I was in the midst of writing this next chapter. Odd, that. Well, anyways. I wanted to thank everyone for reviewing me once again, and I'd like to be able to respond to everyone's reviews without taking up much needed fanfic space. (Plus I don't think FFnet likes people doing that anyway). So I setup a blog for that specific purpose, as well as give some updates and stuff on my fanfics in progress. I also add some silly stuff here and there, and maybe later I may start posting sneak previews of my chapters in progress before they're published to stem the saliva drools (or maybe to start them, teehee). The link to the blog is linked in my profile, so look there for it.
This chapter is brought to you by the dying copy machine at my workplace and lots of XS™ Energy and Sports Nutrition drinks. And without further ado, the fic!
I don't own any of the characters that you're familiar with, but the ones you don't know are mine (wahaha...). Thanks for reading!
Part 04:
"Welcome home Sir," a man standing just inside the front doors said, bowing low. "Shall I have breakfast prepared for you?"
Sesshoumaru looked over at Tetsuya as he took off his jacket and handed it to one of his servants, who quickly scuffled up the stairs with it. The man was dressed in pleated black slacks and a red button-down shirt. No tie today, he observed. Tetsuya really disliked wearing the fabric nooses, and took every possible opportunity to avoid doing so. His shoulder-length dirt brown hair was neatly combed back and tied to the nape of his neck with a simple black band. A few rebellious locks defied capture at the crown of his head and fell haphazardly across his forehead, framing his light brown eyes. All in all, the man was suitably dressed in compliance with Sesshoumaru's strict dress code; sans tie, of course.
Tetsuya was in his early thirties, not more than four years his senior, and had been employed as his personal assistant for the past five. The man was extremely adept at performing his job; no detail was ever overlooked. Since he had hired the man, the overall productivity of his operations had more than doubled, which pleased him greatly. It was so hard to find good help these days, and Tetsuya was as steadfast and loyal as they came.
"That will not be necessary, Tetsuya," Sesshoumaru intoned. "What news have you for me?" The two began walking to his office, located towards the back of the house on the first floor.
"I should first inform you, Sir, that you have -" Tetsuya began, but was suddenly cut off by a high-pitched squeal.
"Sesshy!"
Sesshoumaru glanced up in the direction of the shout that left him nearly deaf, only to see a young woman with soft black curls and flowing white dress, and way too much make-up on, barrelling down one of the staircases towards him. He inwardly groaned, bringing one hand up to massage the oncoming headache at his temples. He definitely did not need this right now. Behind the girl, Akito stood at the top of the staircase smirking down at him. Sesshoumaru glared ruthlessly at the other men as he braced himself for the impending impact. Akito's smile broadened.
As expected, the over-zealous female ran full-tilt into him, wrapping the gangly tentacles she called arms tightly around his neck. The acrid smell of cheap perfume hit his sensitive nose like a mack truck, making him gag. Her arms suddenly tightened even more around him, successfully choking off his much-needed air supply. Dark spots began to fill his vision, and he could feel the bile rising in his throat.
He swiftly reached up and pried her arms from around his neck, shoving her none-too-gently from his person. He held her out at arm's length, unwilling to release her just yet for fear that she would attempt to glomp him a second time. Great, now he reeked of her disgusting scent. He would need to take another shower now before getting to work.
"I assume this is what you were about to warm me of," Sesshoumaru said to his assistant, his eyes never leaving the woman he was holding. The infuriating creature batted her fake eyelashes at him, earning a look of utter disgust from him.
"Yes Sir," Tetsuya replied.
"Oh Sesshy! How can you be so mean?" the woman whined in her annoying high-pitched voice, squirming futilely within his iron grip. "I've missed you!"
"Sayako," Sesshoumaru commanded in a harsh tone, silently willing her to shut up. His headache was getting worse by the minute.
Sayako Souma. The woman was like a human leech, and one of the many banes of his existence. Elder sister to Akito, she was a year older than the both of them, and the eldest child in the Souma family. Ever since she had hit the age of puberty, Sayako had become completely obsessed with him, no doubt drawn to him by his ethereal good looks and massive family fortune. After all, the woman was known to be a ruthless fortune hunter. She was drawn to money like a moth drawn to a flame.
Sayako had a string of rich lovers tainting her past, each and every one of them young and naive to a fault, unsuspecting of her true nature. The woman was cutthroat and cruel, convincing the poor men into grandeurs of their love together so they would buy her expensive gifts. Cars, clothes, jewelry; even extensive trips to exotic locales around the world. But whenever the subject of marriage would come up, the heartless woman would immediately forsake her lover in favour of another she had managed to ensnare within her web of deceit.
And yet, throughout all of her relationships, she continued to hound him unrelentingly, devising all manner of ways to get him to go out with her. To her, Sesshoumaru Inukai was the ultimate prize, and that thought alone enraged him to no end. He was not some trophy to be had. He was the owner of one of the largest multi-conglomerates in the world, rivalling both Microsoft™ and Sony Distributions™. He just happened to be half the age of the presidents of either company, and a million-and-a-half times better looking than the other two combined.
When the woman finally ceased with her obnoxious tirade, Sesshoumaru let go of her, his hands now feeling soiled from having had to touch her. He took out his handkerchief and idly wiped his hands on it, as if that would help get the dirt he felt off. He grimaced; he really needed a shower now.
"What are you doing here?" he bit out, giving the woman a hearty glare. She seemed unfazed by it, he noted with some disappointment.
"We're here for the benefit tomorrow night," Sayako whined, her overly-caked face contorting into an unattractive pout. "Don't tell me you forgot I was invited."
Invited? Sesshoumaru blinked. He never invited that disgusting woman to anything. Unless... It was now Akito's turn to receive one of his infamous "doom" glares. The man just gave him a cheesy grin in return, confirming his thoughts. Why, that little bastard! He knew how much he hated his older sister! The fingers on his right hand twitched, wanting more than anything at that moment to wrap themselves around the delicate throat of his long-time friend.
Sesshoumaru quickly composed himself, reigning in his anger for the time being. He was nothing if not a master of self-control, and right now, he had more pressing matters to attend to. Like taking a hot shower to rid himself of that whore's nauseating stench.
"Tetsuya," he barked.
"Yes Sir." The man in question immediately straightened and bowed his head.
"Escort Miss Souma to the family room and see to her needs. I will be down shortly after I have freshened up."
Tetsuya bowed obediently before grabbing a protesting Sayako by the arm and hauling her off towards the back of the house. Sesshoumaru watched her go with some distaste, doing his absolute best to ignore her vulgar comments about "helping" him in the shower. Filthy whore. A muffled laugh caught his attention, and he looked up to see Akito gripping the bannister while covering his mouth in a very feminine gesture, his sides quaking.
Sesshoumaru gracefully stalked up the stairs to where his friend was doubled over the railing laughing. Akito had some explaining to do. Without a word, he gripped the other man by the back of his shirt collar and dragged him down the long hallway in the direction of his bedroom. Once inside, he made sure to securely lock his door just in case Sayako managed to somehow evade Tetsuya's ever watchful gaze. The man was extremely good, but Sayako had an almost ninja-like ability to disappear at will.
He stood there for a moment as he collected his thoughts, fists curling and uncurling repeatedly in a frustrated manner. Akito just stood there with a feigned innocent look on his face, giggling softly to himself. Giggling; yet another highly feminine trait his friend practiced. Sometimes, he wondered about his friend's masculinity, despite the staggering number of females the man bedded with on a consistent basis.
Sesshoumaru let out a frustrated sigh and walked over to his closet, which happened to be the size of a very large bedroom. The walls were painted in a light taupe colour, which aesthetically accented the honeyed wood of his wardrobe racks and drawers. A large picture window graced the eastern wall of the room, and gave breathtaking views of the rolling green landscape of his estate. In the middle of the large room was a sitting area, complete with two identical loveseats and two complementing high-backed chairs. All were of a very simple design; Sesshoumaru appreciated simplicity in his décor.
The centerpiece of the room was one of antiquity, an old rug he had found years ago while visiting an old abandoned family shrine that had been condemned by the city to the wrecking ball to make way for modernization. He had gone with his father and InuYasha to see if there was anything left of value before the city tore it down.
It had been in the farthest back room of the old shrine where he had found this treasure, rolled up and stuffed away in a dark and dusty corner, long forgotten. The rug had appeared to be centuries old, and he remembered being very surprised that it was still in good condition, despite how old it must have been. Nevertheless, he had it immediately restored upon returning home, and had it placed in his massive closet where he could enjoy looking at it during his morning teas.
The rug was a deep red colour, contrasting beautifully with the rich cream colour of his carpet and furniture, and made of some of the most exquisite materials he had ever seen in his life. It was as soft and luxurious as the finest spun silk, yet as thick and sturdy as the hardiest wool. To this day he could not fathom such a material existing in ancient times without industrial modernization; and yet there was no fabric today that could even compare to this ancient relic.
The border of the piece was inlaid in gold and silver thread, which he suspected were real; delicate tendrils weaving in and around each other in an intricate design. In the middle of the rug were two figures facing each other, outlined stark against the dark background. The one on the left was a massive furry dog with its head bowed and slightly turned, facing front. The dog was twice the height of the other figure, and not unlike the creature that graced the fountain outside his home in appearance; except this figure sported twin stripes along its jaw and a crescent moon atop its forehead. The figure on the right was a female of extraordinary beauty, a face unsurpassed by the fake plastic women of today, her wild ebony hair fanning out behind her. She was dressed in the garbs of one of those ancient priestesses of legend, a miko.
The details of the images were incredible, and one could actually depict the look of calmness and serenity adorning the face of the miko as she gazed upon her partner. Her right hand was raised, resting lovingly upon the snout of the giant dog. One would have to be blind to not see the love and compassion the two creatures had for each other, their intimacy captured for all eternity on this one piece of cloth. Above the two lovers hung a silver moon in its fullest phase, another symbol that was present in his family crest.
It had been the dog and the moon that had alerted him to the observation that the rug was a family heirloom; but who was the female that was also depicted here? He had spent countless days and nights studying her face, wondering who she was and how she was related to his family. None of his relatives had any clue as to her identity; even his own father, a man wrapped deeply within his family's history, had been at a loss as to who she was. He had spent hours combing his family's archives, searching; but never once was a miko ever mentioned in the multitude of ancient tomes.
All of his dead ends frustrated him. He knew that the rug represented a missing part of his family legacy, a part that had somehow gotten erased through the centuries. But he was clueless as to where to go or what to do to find out what it was. Who she was.
A sudden realization hit him as he stared down at the female figure, golden eyes meticulously scrutinizing her features as he did everyday. Why hadn't he noticed it before? He inwardly berated himself for his acute lack of observation for something so obvious.
"What's wrong Sesshy?" Akito inquired, having had followed his friend into his closet. He studied the man's shocked face, then followed his gaze to the old rug on the floor. He had no idea what he was looking at, but he was glad that the man's anger towards him was diverted for the moment.
He hated it whenever Sesshoumaru would "play" the Spanish Inquisition with him. The man had a really freaky pair of eyes. Not only were they abnormal in colour to begin with, but he also had a penetrating stare to go along with it. When he stared at you, it felt as though he could read your most sacred and intimate thoughts. This was, without doubt, a trait he had inherited from his father, who had used "the stare" most effectively in his various business dealings. No one would dare to even think twice about double-crossing Kanemaru Inukai. Being a grand master in the art of kendo probably helped in that aspect too.
His eldest son was no different; but whereas his father had excelled in the art of negotiation, Sesshoumaru's area of expertise was in the art of interrogation. And he was a third degree black belt in the art of kendo to boot. Only a fool would dare to think of challenging the Inukai family. That is, unless death was their sole wish in life.
Okay, now he was getting impatient. The man still hadn't said anything. He knew Sesshoumaru was a man of few words, but this was ridiculous.
"Sesshoumaru," Akito said loudly, using the man's full name, something he rarely ever did. He preferred calling his friend by his childhood nickname because he knew it annoyed the hell out of him. He finally got a response when the man blinked, but he didn't turn to look at him. He just continued to stare at the rug. That was another thing that irked him, Akito idly thought. The man liked to take his time blinking. That couldn't possibly be healthy.
"She looks like Kagome," Sesshoumaru said softly, his deep voice barely above a whisper.
Akito's eyes wandered back down to the ancient rug, curious as to what he was talking about. Like Kagome? He had only seen the little vixen once before when he had helped the two brothers during the casting call for their show. But one look was all it took to get that sexy bird emblazoned forever into one's memory banks. Kagome had the most beautiful face he had ever seen, and the fact that she barely wore any make-up at all to enhance her features made her even more appealing to the opposite sex. Not to mention she had a body that wouldn't quit. It was a no-brainer to see why Sesshoumaru, the guy who never once before bothered himself with the affairs of females, was so hooked on her. What he couldn't understand was why his friend was so hesitant with pursuing her. It wasn't like he was a stranger to women. The man had dated dozens of women before, so why was Kagome any different? He shook his head; he just couldn't figure it out.
Akito studied the figure in the rug carefully, smoky eyes taking in the delicate features - the warm smile on the pouty upturned lips, the wild black mane and serene chocolate eyes. It was now his turn to blink. The similarities were amazing, almost impossible. It actually looked like someone had dressed Kagome up in a priestess outfit, taken a picture of her, and glued it onto the rug. This was way beyond bizarre.
"Um, how old did you say this was?" Akito asked, bewildered.
"I had it dated to sometime during the sixteenth century," Sesshoumaru said, still silently cursing himself for his negligence over the past few months. "The historians could not pinpoint a more exact date, but it is suspected that it was created sometime during the beginnings of our house."
Akito blinked at first, then nodded his understanding of what his friend had just said. He was talking about his family, not the building. Sometimes, he found it difficult understanding the guy, especially when they were younger.
Sesshoumaru had adored and respected his father when he was alive, despite his extremely strict upbringing. Kanemaru had been a stickler for proper manners and speech with his first-borne son, most especially since the boy was to inherit an empire. And Sesshoumaru had always wanted nothing more than to be just like his great father, if not more so.
Akito smiled in spite of himself, his mind recalling memories of their childhood. Despite the man's ruthlessness in the office, Kanemaru had truly been a gentle giant at home. The elder Inukai had loved his sons dearly, and had been a loving husband to his wife, Izayoi, InuYasha's mother. He had also been a great friend and uncle to his own family, and Akito had always had the highest possible respect for the man.
Akito had no memories of Sesshoumaru's mother, however, his friend's father having had divorced the woman when he and Sesshoumaru were only two years of age. According to the staff of the estate, the woman, Ayako, had been a very proud and vain woman, and had only married Kanemaru for his money and social standing. She had never cared for the welfare of her own son, and that had been a trait Kanemaru could not tolerate. A little over a year later, he had met and married the love of his life, Izayoi, who had been the youngest daughter of an ambassador to America. The woman had taken an instant liking to the reserved child of her new husband, and had wholeheartedly taken over the role of a loving mother to the young boy. Nine months later, InuYasha had been borne.
As the years passed by, Sesshoumaru had never bothered seeking out his biological mother, like most abandoned children tended to do when older. Akito liked to think it was because his friend had already found his mother while growing up.
"Why are you smiling?"
Sesshoumaru's deep voice immediately snapped him out of his reverie. Turning slightly to look at the other man, he found Sesshoumaru staring at him suspiciously through narrowed slits. An icy shiver ran up and down his spine at the penetrating gaze, and his body involuntarily shuddered in response. Yup, he really hated that man's eyes. His happy mood was quickly replaced by the feeling that he was being hunted. The age-old instinct of fight or flight briefly crossed his mind, and he shook his head violently trying to clear it, meanwhile his hands came up in a pacifying motion.
"Uh, nothing Sesshy," Akito said, a weak smile adorning his face as he took a step back. "Absolutely nothing."
"Mmhm..." Sesshoumaru replied, accepting his friend's statement for the time being. Akito had better not be thinking lecherous thoughts about Kagome again. Honestly, the man made Miroku in the show look like strawberry shortcake. Now that he thought about it, he idly wondered if that was where InuYasha had gotten the idea for the character in the first place.
He walked over and began rummaging through his multitude of racks looking for something suitable to wear, while Akito made himself comfortable on one of the loveseats. He finally settled on a pair of charcoal grey slacks and a royal navy blue button-down shirt. He made sure to grab a change of undergarments before sitting down across from his friend.
Uh oh, Akito thought, here it comes. He did the mental equivalent of sitting up straight and squaring his shoulders, although physically he remained slumped across the back of the sofa. Hey, it's the thought that counts, right?
"Whatever possessed you to invite her?" Sesshoumaru asked, his golden eyes piercing into Akito's greys.
"Hehe," Akito said weakly, quickly averting his gaze. Now all I need is a spotlight, he thought sarcastically. He sighed, feeling really drained all of sudden.
"She came home unexpectedly last night and overheard Sachiko and Yuriko talking about the benefit," Akito said, his bony shoulders slumping in defeat. "When I got home, she attacked me and put me in a headlock until I told her she could come too. My neck's still sore," he added, rubbing a hand absently along the back of his neck.
Sesshoumaru carefully studied Akito's face, dully noticing the look of utter defeat in the man's eyes. So, the wench had forced her brother to consent, had she? Then that would mean she would try to find a way to get him to be her escort to the event, and there was no way in the seven hells he would ever consent to that. Fortunately this time, like every other time she would try something, he had a way out. But this time, unlike the others, his way out would be much more pleasurable. A sexy smile graced his lips when an image of his angel floated across his inner mind.
"Sesshy, you're freaking me out," Akito said, ruining Sesshoumaru's blissful reprieve. Akito leaned forward on the sofa, his elbows resting atop his knees.
"You know what Sayako's gonna try to do, right?"
Sesshoumaru waved his hand dismissively and got up, heading for the bathroom on the other side of his room.
"Of course I know," he replied, "but it is of little consequence."
Akito stared suspiciously at his friend's retreating back. Something wasn't right about Sesshoumaru. Normally, the guy would be pacing back and forth, trying to strategize his way out of whatever schemes his sister might attempt.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Akito called after him, getting up and crossing the huge bedroom towards the bathroom. "Aren't we supposed to be planning how to get you out of becoming Sayako's date for tomorrow night? How is it 'of little consequence'?" he added, imitating Sesshoumaru's arrogant tone.
Sesshoumaru never broke his long strides across the room, not even bothering to look back as he spoke over his shoulder to the man behind him. "The wench will not succeed in her attempts this time. This Sesshoumaru already has a date," he said, his lips pulling back into a gleeful smirk that Akito could not see.
"...with Kagome."
Akito stopped abruptly in his tracks, pure shock written all over his face. He stared, uncomprehendingly, as Sesshoumaru vanished within the massive confines of the marble-encased room, his words not quite registering in his over-loaded brain.
That is, until the meaning of the words hit him with the full force of an eighteen-wheeler big rig. His slack jaw dropped open in disbelief as his gun metal-coloured eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets.
A lone shriek pierced through the ensuing silence that had settled over the bedding chambers like a heavy fog.
"WHAT!"
A/N:
And so the chapter is complete, and the story progresses. So, who do you think that miko is? And why does she look identical to Kagome? Why isn't she mentioned in the history books? Ah yes, the plot thickens.
I hope everyone's enjoying the ride so far. This plot just keeps twisting more and more as I write, and it's getting exciting with all of the possibilities laying at my doorstep. Oh yeah, how'd you like my description of the rug? Can everyone actually see it? It's going to be an integral part of this story, linking past with present. I wonder if anyone could take a crack at drawing it for me? I've become terrible at drawing over the years, but I would if I could. I used to create countless fanarts to go along with my stories, but those days are now in the past.
Anyways, please review, and I'll be posting replies up in my blog as I receive them. Thanks for sticking around!