Disclaimer: I don't own Inu-Yasha; however, I DO own Winslow Asparagus and his book Carrot Rhythm

Dearly Beloved

Second Installment

Three months later. It was nearing the end of summer vacation. Or at least that was what Inu-Yasha's mind told him. In actuality, it was the beginning of his first school-time period... out of school. His freedom as an adult was dawning. For the first time since he was but a tiny whelp, he wouldn't have to worry about textbooks and teachers... and rules or curfews or schedules. He could go to bed when he wanted, could spend as much time reading or watching TV or surfing the 'Net as he wanted. He could eat ice cream at 1:00 A.M. with barbeque chips watching reruns of Azumanga Daioh on the On Demand and his mother couldn't tell him to go to bed. One, because he was a legal adult now, and two, because his mother was dead.

It was weird to think of her as dead. He remembered being so upset about it before... Now he felt sort of numbed. He loved having this freedom, but he didn't want his mother to be disregarded. That was why he put a framed picture of her by his bed. That way, he'd always see his mother's face in his dreams... Now he lay on the living room couch, taking a moment from his book to dwell upon the memory of his mother. It wasn't as hard to do so as it was after she had first died. The lady had to go sometime, right? Though, he was still awaiting the results from the autopsy... One would think they'd be speedy about it, but apparently not. That, or Sesshoumaru wasn't willing to share the information with him.

The front door slammed with an agitated click. Inu-Yasha's ears twitched. Those ears, as catlike (Inu, he insisted, they're dog ears... That's why I was named Inu-Yasha... Even if Sess calls them cat ears) as they were, were the result of a birth defect, so he was told by his dearly beloved mum long ago. Birth defect. Yeah right. He sat up and watched closely as Sesshoumaru walked by and started messing around with papers on the coffee table. You couldn't tell by his expression—apathetic as always—but the energy surrounding him made it evident it might not be a bright idea to aggravate him. After a few minutes passed, he turned to Inu-Yasha.

"..."

"...?"

"You haven't done anything of worth all day, have you?"

"I did the dishes..."

"..."

"...?"

"You should probably look for a job."

"...Aw, c'mon, Sess! I—" Inu-Yasha broke off as his brother turned his back on him again. It wouldn't be good to whine. He had to look for a job and that was that.

Three weeks later. Inu-Yasha flapped a plastic bag so that it opened itself from its Hermetic sealing. He then slipped the two good-sized volumes in it and swiftly pressed a key on the register.

"That'll be $54.39, ma'am." The middle-aged woman already had her money out. She handed it to him in exchange for a receipt and the bag of books. "Thank you. Have a nice day."

"Thank you very much." Before walking away, she paused and looked at him, as though wanting to ask him something, but being hesitant about it. At last, she said, "Your ears... are they real?"

"They sure are, ma'am," he answered, smiling in a kind of I-really-don't-want-to way. Not reluctant, just plaintive. She nodded, and, still looking unsure, went on her way. Inu-Yasha let out a sigh. People had been asking about his ears, his hair, his nails, his eyes all day. Going out in public was bothersome most of the time. He always wondered whether his father had been some kind of otherworldly creature, to have produced such alien-looking sons who preferred to grow out their hair and nails. It just never felt right when either was short. His mother used to bring him to a beauty parlor when he was young, and every time he came out, smelling like lilies, his trimmed and groomed hair would feel as though it didn't belong to him. And he remembered quite clearly some of the fusses and tantrums Sesshoumaru made when it was time for his own haircuts.

Another customer came up. He was holding four books, all taken from the Barnes and Noble Classics section over by the Fiction and Literature aisles, from the colors and setup of them. Two were of Charles Dickens, whom Inu-Yasha noted Sesshoumaru didn't care for, and the other two, one was a Mark Twain and the last was Bram Stoker's Dracula. The young man holding them made Inu-Yasha look older by a few good years, and was rather pimply-faced, with a brown mop of hair, unbrushed and wild, and big blue eyes perking out of his pale round head. He didn't hand the books over, however. In fact, he seemed rather reluctant to give them up. Inu-Yasha, taking duty in his hands, asked,

"How can I help you?" The boy licked his lips, his eyes glued to Inu-Yasha like a vulture's.

"I'm looking for a book by Winslow Asparagus. It's called Carrot Rhythm. Do you know where I can find it?"

"Carrot Rhythm," Inu-Yasha repeated. "Winslow Asparagus. Nope. Never heard that one before. Why don't you check with the information desk? They probably know better than I do." The boy gave a saddened expression to him at this suggestion. He shook his head.

"I asked the man at the information desk already. I want you to find it. You're a lot like me." Say what, kid? What're you up to? Just how could he have anything in common with this booger? He raised an eyebrow, but nodded anyway, deciding just to go along with the flow.

"Okay, if you say so. Let's go check and see where we can get this book of yours. What genre does it fall under?" The boy's gaze never left him as he abandoned his cash register to go out into the open store.

"It's science fiction." He licked his lips again. Inu-Yasha nodded and headed for the sci-fi aisles. This aisle, for some unknown reason, was abandoned. And that was fine. So today wasn't a hot sci-fi day was all. He bent down and took a look at the A's, doubting in his mind the chances of finding anyone by the name Winslow Asparagus, nor a book called Carrot Rhythm. He yawned, covering his mouth by unconscious habit.

"I found it."

"What?" Inu-Yasha turned to look at the boy. Something in his grin made him cringe. It was a dangerous grin. The boy was no longer holding four books, but one; a monstrous-sized volume bound by black leather, on the spine in gold letters it was entitled Carrot Rhythm. Winslow Asparagus's name could be found below it. There was no indication of a publisher.

"Where the hell did that come from?"

"From the shelf," the boy answered simply enough. There was a twinkle in his eyes which Inu-Yasha was not too fond of. It reminded him of his worst memories: those days when Sesshoumaru, who he had always admired from afar but was likewise always embarrassed to admit it, decided to humiliate him in some way. Sometimes it would be a rough game of Throw-Loose-Bricks-Found-in-the-Neighbor's-Yard-At-Inu-Yasha, other times it might be Spill-Ketchup-and-Mustard-on-Little-Brother-and-Lock-Him-in-a-Shed-After-Rolling-Him-in-Dirt, and still others it might be his least favorite game of all, Beat-Little-Brother-Til-He-Cries-Like-the-Stupid-Girl-He-Is. Always had the beatings harmed him most, not necessarily because he was being beaten, but because those were the times he always thought Sesshoumaru really hated him, wanted him dead, even. But one day, Big Brother had the nastiest look in his eyes... and a smirk to go along with it. That day, an intention to kill seemed to fill the air around him with a sickening stench. Inu-Yasha couldn't recall ever being more frightened than he had on that day; he pissed Sesshoumaru off real bad, real, real bad. He couldn't remember what he had done, but he had promised never, ever, ever, Big Brother, please, never to do it again, he had been so terrified, so horrified by that look in Sesshoumaru's eyes. He swore they had glowed red.

Now he was seeing a very similar light in this boy's eyes, and, goddamn, that fear was catching on again. Not as heavily, oh no, for this was not his elder brother, but a complete stranger whom he had only just run into, however, it was still there. The difference? He was older, much older, and could feel a strength rising sneakily into his hands, a desire he had never felt before; the desire to knock the guy's head off his neck.

"It came from the shelf of Hell, where you will be going soon," the boy-creature cackled in delight. "But first, I will reap the opportunity and feed upon your deliciousness. You do not even know what you are, do you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Inu-Yasha growled, unaware of how he was baring his fangs on instinct, and stood, clenching his fists. His nails, he realized, felt sharper, deadlier, useful—more like the claws of a... well, a dog. "But I don't like your tone. Run that by me again, will you?" The boy-creature's smile widened. His skin had gone a pale, sickly greenish color. The irises of his eyes stood out bright yellow against the dark pupils.

"I'd be more than happy to, my tasty little pup. In fact, I'll demonstrate." He vanished where he stood. Inu-Yasha was caught dumbfounded and off-guard... and in the creature's clutches. He had used some sort of teleportation trick to get behind Inu-Yasha, and was now holding onto him, pulling his arms back. "Allow me to introduce myself: my name is Winslow. Winslow Asparagus. But you can call me Your Maker."

"Feh. I'd rather call you DEAD!" Inu-Yasha struggled to turn around, but just as he got his right arm free, tentacles sprouted from the creature's sides and wrapped around him, holding him securely in place. "Winslow," as he called himself, looked very smug. Too smug. Inu-Yasha couldn't stand it.

"Puppy has a temper. Let me sooth what ails you." Winslow stepped away from his "treat," the tentacles detaching themselves from his body, yet maintaining a firm grasp on the captured. He bent down to Inu-Yasha's waist and unbuttoned his jeans. Inu-Yasha stared in shock. Did this weird being mean to rape him? Where the hell was everybody? Daydreaming! Why did nobody hear them? Why didn't they sense the evil presence! Winslow pulled Inu-Yasha's jeans to the floor. He did the same to the boxers which were left. Fear was tensing up in Inu-Yasha's nervous system now. He was anything but aroused. He had heard plenty of stories about rape, but never had he imagined something even close happening to him.

The monster licked his lips once more. "Ah, the beauty of adolescence. Had you seen the withered hags of my world, you would be sympathetic and cooperative with me instead of glaring like that."

"I could never be sympathetic with the likes of you!" Cold air was taken into Inu-Yasha's mouth through his teeth, making a sharp HSSHT! sound. "SOMEBODY! HELP!" His offender giggled.

"You're not going to attract their attention that way!" The creature's skin had become scaly, cold and coarse. A talon-like hand extended to caress one of Inu-Yasha's genitals... And was quickly withdrawn. Winslow Asparagus jerked back, looking as though he had been burned. Surprise swiftly changed to annoyance.

"How could this be! You seemed far too innocent not to be virgin! Aren't you virgin, boy!" Aha. That insecurity was enough to make Inu-Yasha feel he had the upper hand here.

"Nope. Sorry. My big brother took it away from me and he keeps refusing to give it back. Says it's his now or something. But tell what, you can always go ask him for it. He'll slice your head open."

"That's... not... RIGHT!" Winslow shrieked, his low, slimy voice gaining higher pitch. "Beautiful young boys should not by any means have consensual sex with their BROTHERS!" Inu-Yasha blushed at this.

"How... how would you know if it was consensual, huh!" He broke free of the tentacles, feeling that new strength spread throughout his muscles. He was more than ready to fight now. Roaring, even. Those which bound him disintegrated to ashen dust, gray and plentiful. Regaining composure, Winslow stood and sneered.

"My boy, true given-and-gotten love provides a barrier which no evil can break. Not even he who hired me to kill you and your mother would be able to break it, and I assure you, every pore on his body sweats darkness. Until next time, my unrequited love, may you and your brother find peace within yourselves." He vanished once again, leaving Inu-Yasha to ponder on this thought.

He took a step forward, and caught his gaze on the ground where Winslow had stood. Did that... really happen? Did this Asparagus dude know something about him which he didn't know? Wait... Hold on just one fucking minute...

THAT WAS THE GUY THAT KILLED MY MOTHER!

In a sudden burst of fury, Inu-Yasha ran down the aisle, looking for any clue which would lead him to Winslow Asparagus. As he passed by, people stopped and gawked at him like he was crazy. Why hadn't anyone come to rescue him? What was going through these people's heads? He stopped abruptly at his assigned cash register, panting much like a dog in the sun on a ninety-degree summer day. His eye had caught hold of something on the table; Winslow's book. Carrot Rhythm. On the cover was a note:

TO INU-YASHA, MY DARLING CUDDLE BUG. WITH LOVE, WINNIE.

END/Installment Two