I was both disgusted and grateful for the birth of my hanyou half-brother. Disgusted by the death my father met, though it was the wounds given by Ryuukotsusei that actually caused it in the long run. Releived and grateful because I would not have to be the one to claim my father's life. Demon heirs are trained from the beginning to hate their superior. Later in life when they are strong enough, they will eventually kill him and take his title of lord or cheif. My father tried to be cold and brutal with me, but I could always see through his tough demeanor. I could see his amber eyes light up with paternal pride, and in the end I loved and respected him, unconcsiously dreading the day I would have to kill him.

That night, the night of InuYasha's birth, I saw, from a distance my father race into the flames and never come out. What I did see from the top of the pine tree I was standing on, was a young human women, the fire cloth covering her head and shoulders, holding an infant. She paused and looked back at her burning home, and in her arms, swaddled in white clothes was a new-born with silver hair, amber eyes and greyish triangular ears sitting on the top of his head. I felt my heart swell, with delight and anxiety as I looked at him. Izayoi walked trough the forest towards the town in the distance, and I followed her silently, not letting my prescence known to her. I could sense the other demons preparing to attack her but as soon as they caught my sent they backed off, somewhat sheepishly.

Every day I visited my brother, though he and his mother never knew I was there. I saw him feeding off his mother's breast through the blinds, I saw him romp and crawl all across the terrace, I was there to witness his first steps and heard his first words.

A few years passed, and one day that InuYasha was playing with his usual ball, a solitary occupation I often thought, he threw it to hard and it bounced over the fence, landing at my feet. Being curious, he climbed the fence and toppled onto the other side, squashing a few blossoming flowers. Then, he saw me. He stared at me with wonder in his eyes, not surprisingly since I was the first demon he had ever seen. I knelt down onto my knees, took his ball and extended it to him. He causciously stepped forward and took hold of it, lightly brushing his small hand against mine. "Thank you" he told me. I thought he was going to run away then and there but he did no such thing. He continue looking straight into my eyes and finally a few minutes having passed he went on the tip of his toes and placed a quick kiss on my cheek. I had seen him kiss his mother, but this was the first time someone had ever kissed me. It was only because I placed one of my hands on my arm and started peircing and tearing the skin, that I didn't take him away and bring him back to the inu-youkai home, to be raised as an inu-youkai. But I knew that it would do him more harm than good and so I let him return to his mother. I stayed quite a bit of time wondering if he would tell her what had happend, but he never did. I don't think I'll ever know why.

His mother caught a disease and died. He was kicked out of the mansion, where she lived and had to fend for himself. He was fourteen now and so I let him figure himself out alone. I let him fight and get hurt by demons, but I always slaughtered anyone that could do him serious harm. He never knew that I was watching him. The day came when a demon, who would have killed him, stopped himself and mentioned that he looked so very similar to the "Lord of the Western Lands". That planted the seed of doubt and the hope of acceptance in him, which I knew I would have to crush. He journeyed through my lands till one day he found me sitting by stream. For a second his eyes lit up and I thought he had recognised me but then they became cloudy again.

"Are you Sesshomaru?" he asked me.

"Yes"

"Well, I'm...I..I'm your br..brother." he stutterred.

"I know. You are the half-breed peice of trash that I am unfortunatly related too."

I hurt him with my words. I saw it in his face. Much more than when I finally attacked him and beat him to the ground. He didn't offer much resistance, still reeling from the shock of his shattered dreams of a 'family'. As I punched him, I knew I was hurting him, but it felt good to be able to touch him, even if it had to be in a violent way.

Over the next few hundred years I kept silent watch over him. I know that and old village preistess had adopted him, and he lived and helped her succesors over the years. I saw him fall in love, or what he thought was love, with a preistess named Kikyo. It was nothing more than an attachment to her, for I knew that if he really needed her he would have marked her long ago. That is a demon's nature. Even so I felt a pang of jealousy when he kissed her. Naraku betrayed their measly trust in each other, and so she trapped my brother to a tree.

Over the next fifty years I went to visit him every day, and would pass my hand through his tangled, wild hair. I never tried to free him, for I knew that he was safe, and content here, and might have left him there for the rest of eternity if that woman's reincarnation had not removed the sacred arrow, which pinned him against the tree.