AN: Angst warning! It just came rolling out of my fingertips and onto the computer screen! Sesshoumaru, without Fortune around to goad him on, seems to fall into a very contemplative mood. But, don't worry, he still manages to get himself into some strange situations (as usual).
The next time Sesshoumaru exited his room, he found another folded note wedged in the door. Noting the masculine handwriting, he began to read:
Seshomuaru, Seshomuaru
You make my heart flutter
And the rest of me melt like butter
I adore your lack of expression
I treasure your joyless face
And, I hope you don't think me low
That in your hair, I'd love to see a pretty, pink bow.
You look strange when you smile
I suppose you haven't done it in awhile
Animation is just not your style
Your long hair is the color of pearl
But I'm still not sure you aren't a girl
You walk with such grace
But what have you done to your face?
Lastly, I hope your heart does not drop,
When I tell you I saw you fall in the swamp.
Sesshoumaru's face registered no emotion. "Fortune, you moron," he said aloud to no one in particular.
Sesshoumaru had plans. These plans did not include the vampire at the moment. He stepped outside, squinting as his keen eyes adjusted to the morning sunlight. He tilted his head a little, and began to sniff carefully, a faraway look in his eyes. There she is, he thought, and began to walk. He followed her scent several miles, until his path took him into the deteriorated areas near Mazant, through a couple of lush, overgrown lots and then circled back in the same direction as he had come. Young girls, Sesshoumaru scoffed. He'd had plenty of experience with the seemingly aimless wandering of little girls. The oddest things could divert their attention, he recalled—flowers, an interesting path, a misguided sense of adventure. Plus, they did an inordinate amount of daydreaming, if he remembered correctly.
After a few more doses of memory—Rin running towards him with arms outstretched, Rin laughing and playing at the waters edge, Rin stooped and haggard, yet giving him that same clean, bright smile that never aged—Sesshoumaru started dragging his feet. After so many years, he had still not come to terms with the regret of loving her, of losing her. What made it so difficult was that he not only regretted his unexpressive nature, but also that he simply did not seem to have the capacity to feel the emotion in the way she obviously did. Emotions slipped through the holes in his heart like sand. He was never able to hold on to them for long. They were replaced by the emptiness and smoothness that was his youkai nature. Regret seemed to be the only emotion with grains coarse enough not to slip through that sieve that was his heart.
Yet, he had felt love. He remembered the feeling of it. But, it did not suit him.
He remembered the burst of warmth which would seep into his very bones as his gaze was caught and held by Rin's smiling eyes. He'd felt a strange sweetness coursing through his veins, as if his blood had been replaced by sweet, strong wine, and it left him feeling strangely content.
But, that feeling would quickly dissipate, seeping this time out of his bones and skin and back into the air, to be replaced by the cold, calculating thoughts to which he was accustomed. No, he soon realized, it never lasted, despite that bright and shining promise the warm feelings held. The promise of something more—something that would grow and flower and become rich with sweetness—never happened. Later, when Rin would do something spontaneous, such as giving him the rare hug—her arms wrapped tightly around his waist and head buried in his hoari—he would still find himself responding in kind again. He would remember his love for her, remember why it was he rarely left her side, only to have the ephemeral feelings slip through his fingers again. He grew accustomed to these failures. He could only shrug his shoulders in acceptance as each time the intense, warm feelings were readily replaced by colder urges.
The worst part of it was that it left him feeling dead. He imagined this was how the undead miko, Inuyasha's miko, felt as she walked the earth—a re-animated corpse still retaining all her warm memories of life. Her sharp intellect was still perfectly intact in that cold prison. Yes, Sesshoumaru thought, he could have lived all these years in blissful ignorance, if only he had not felt that warmth. Sesshoumaru knew that he would have also remained a total bastard, so perhaps it is best for rest of the world that these wayward emotions had mellowed him somewhat.
Sesshoumaru shook his head to dispel these thoughts. Why had his idle amusement brought such useless, tortured memories to the surface? Why must he seek out this reminder? Why risk forming another relationship where the guilt of not measuring up and resulting emptiness might haunt him as it had with her. Still, he chided himself. For an unfeeling, unemotional youkai, he was acting like an angst-ridden youth. He also could not help the feeling that this whole mess must be somehow Fortune's fault.
He had been standing in front of a residence for some time now. This must be where she lives, Sesshoumaru thought, his chaotic emotions from earlier were replaced, one by one, with a calculating calm. Despite his earlier rant, his youkai nature certainly had its advantages. Sometimes it was nice when the bad feelings just…went away.
He walked up to the door and knocked. He was not certain what he expected, he did not even know her name. But, Sesshoumaru was essentially a man of action, he did not wish to stand outside the house all day waiting for her to appear.
The girl opened the door. He saw her shocked expression—mouth gaping and eyes wide—for mere seconds before the door slammed back in his face. Then, it opened again, just as suddenly. He noticed that her face now held a look of disbelief , before she slammed the door shut in his face again. Sesshoumaru's hair gently swayed in the breeze created by the action of furiously opening and closing the door. Next, he heard the key turn in the lock. What an amusing reaction, Sesshoumaru thought, coming here was worth it after all. But, after a few minutes of staring at the door, he began feeling indignant. He was left waiting outside her door like a scolded puppy. He turned to leave, but halted quickly, head and neck twisted at an odd angle. What the..That little bitch, Sesshoumaru fumed inwardly. His hair was caught in the door. Not wanting any more torn pieces of hair, Sesshoumaru knocked again.
A face appeared in the window next to the door. Then, it disappeared.
This is getting frustrating. Is this girl insane? Sesshoumaru raised his fist and was about to start banging on the door, when the girl's face reappeared in the window.
"What do you want," her muffled voice asked.
"My hair. It has been caught in the…," Sesshoumaru barely resisted the urge to swear, "your door."
The girl looked dumbly up at him through the window.
"Please open it, NOW." Sesshoumaru commanded, voice rising in uncharacteristic anger. He was getting tired of having his hair mussed. Plus, his neck muscles were beginning to cramp due to the odd angle.
The girl disappeared again. Sesshoumaru sighed. Fortune may have claimed to have seen the swamp incident, but at least the daylight would ensure he would not witness this fiasco. He resisted the urge to leave long, deep scratches in the wooden door. He knew what happens to wild animals which have their paw caught in a trap. But, he was not about to cut off another chunk of his hair to escape. She had to come out sometime, or perhaps someone would need to enter. He could wait.
Standing there, his hair caught in the door, Sesshoumaru had a sudden, fleeting fearful thought that he might be stuck here until night and would be found by Fortune, who would mock him with that awful little laugh of his. He did not want to be subjected to anymore of Fortune's dumb jokes at his expense either.
"Hee haha! Youkai, your prissiness is beyond words. Your damn hair is not that pretty, you know….Hm. With you stuck like that, now is the perfect time for me to take another taste…." Sesshoumaru shivered at this mental image of Fortune leaned towards his jugular as he struggled to escape in the close confines of the doorway.
He heard the sound of a key turning in the lock and breathed a sigh of relief as the door slowly opened. His wayward locks now joined the others against his shoulder.
"Thank you," Sesshoumaru gritted out, and turned to leave.
"Wait," the girl squealed, sounding a little desperate. When she was sure she had Sesshoumaru's attention, she continued in a normal, though nervous, tone, "I know who you are. You can come in."
Sesshoumaru paused, pride still stinging from the hair-trapped-in-the-door incident. The girl opened the door wider and held out her hand in a welcoming gesture. I suppose, he thought, I did come all this way…
Upon entering, He was immediately overwhelmed by the stink of rotten food. He stopped in his tracks, sniffing, wondering if he could make a quick exit now without seeming too awkward. He casually put a finger over his mouth, trying to suppress a gag reflex.
The girl seemed to understand his reaction. "Sorry about the dishes. My sister made dinner a couple of weeks ago," the girl offered by way of explanation. It'll be better in here.
The girl led him to her room, quickly shutting the door behind them. The heavy scent of incense permeating the room all but shut down his sense of smell. This was not a bad thing considering the way the rest of the house smelled.
She looked around. The only chair was piled high with what appeared to be several years' worth of clean laundry. An oversized care bear was tossed to the floor and she motioned for Sesshoumaru to sit on the bed. The girl leaned against a paper lined dresser in the corner of the room, biting her nails and staring at him out of the corner of her eye. There was a long pause before either of them spoke.
"Your poem," Sesshoumaru started, but was unable to think of what to say next. Your poem touched me, and my vampire friend as well. No, that wasn't actually true. But, he knew better than to use the word amused. Thank you for taking the time to write a poem about me. That sounded too egotistical. Your poem needed a few spelling corrections. No, that was what Fortune had wanted him to say.
"Oh, that," the girl lowered her eyes, tittering nervously. "Um, is that why you are here?"
Sesshoumaru did not answer. He did not exactly know why he was here.
The girl grew nervous under his steady gaze and began to shuffle through a pile of papers on her desk, "I've got more, if you want to see them."
Sesshoumaru began to panic. He was expected to read more poems? What kind of mess had he gotten himself into. He was on the verge of standing up to leave yet again, when the girl picked up a single sheet from the pile and immediately turned bright red. "Um. I don't know why I just offered to let you read these. They are kind of, personal, you know. Would you mind if I just put them away, instead," she said, hurriedly stuffing them into a drawer. Sesshoumaru let out a sigh of relief and relaxed back down onto the bed.
"What is your name, girl?" The girl jumped at his voice. She had just been wondering why she'd invited this stranger into her room, beautiful though he was.
"Erin," she finally answered.
"And, Erin," Sesshoumaru said, trying out the name, "why have you been following me?"
"I don't know what you are talking…"
Sesshoumaru cut her off quickly, "Don't try and deny it, girl."
"Erin," the girl corrected.
"Erin, don't make me repeat myself. You will explain now." This came out more sharply than Sesshoumaru had intended.
Erin did not respond. She looked quite pale, and as if she just tried to swallow a mouth full of crackers dry. What to do, what to do, Sesshoumaru pondered. He did not want to scare her. Perhaps coming here was not such a good idea. He should say something reassuring. "I did not intend to frighten you. I only came here out of curiosity, and to discover your intentions. But, really," he chided, "trailing strange men in the middle of the night is not wise. Perhaps you should find another hobby."
"I'm not scared," she lied, "And, I only followed you because I wanted to know more about you. You saved me from your, uh, friend. And, you helped me with my scratches. I had thought, at first, that you and that other guy had kidnapped me, that's why I ran off so fast. But, when you didn't try to stop me, I figured that wasn't the case. Or, I did later. That guy you are always hanging out with, you know…"
"His name is Fortune."
"Yeah, well, he's kind of weird."
Sesshoumaru chuckled at this. "Oh, believe me, you don't know the half of it."
"Why did he attack me? He tried to, I mean, he did bite me."
"You'll have to ask him," Sesshoumaru answered, avoiding the question. "But, do not worry. He will not touch you again. I've seen to that."
"Oh, thank you, uh, what is your name?" Erin smiled shyly, her eyes now bright, no longer shadowed in fear. That look stirred up a flicker of memory, which Sesshoumaru promptly stuffed back down.
"Sesshoumaru."
"Thank you, Sesshoumaru," Erin said softly, stumbling a little over the unfamiliar word.
The girl had relaxed her guard, and now was excited at the prospect of learning more about her current fixation. Normally, she was fearless, hence the midnight wanderings. Her mother, a single parent and drug addict (Erin was not supposed to know this), had died of an overdose when she was eight. Now, she had her older sister. Her sister was mostly absent, so Erin was forced to become independent at a young age. In return for the neglect that she suffered, she was given freedom, and a lot of it. It was not that no one cared, her older sister and guardian did care. But, a twenty-something sister with a tendency toward an already bohemian lifestyle did not offer much by the way of stability, structure, and there was a distinct lack of rules. However, this overkill of freedom was much preferable to the foster homes she had shuffled through for almost two years until her older sister was granted custody. All the families were nice, but despite the fact that her sister was absent much, both mentally and physically, her house held the feelings of home that they never had.
All in all, Erin had turned out a bit wild. Not wild in the way girls might drink heavily and spread their legs to all the boys. But, wild in the 'raised by wolves' way, except that she was raised by a half-assed, hippie older sister. Her wild nature might explain her next inappropriate request.
"Um. Can I touch your hair?"
Sesshoumaru was a little surprised that this previously nervous and shy creature was making such a bold request. "Yes," he answered, worrying he would regret this.
Erin's hand twitched. She smiled and reached to touch the ends of his silver hair resting on the bed. "So soft," she whispered, her enthusiasm for hair fondling growing by leaps and bounds. She began to lift whole sections of his hair and let it slide through her fingers, slipping back down to the bed to in a fan-shaped mass. Sesshoumaru was beginning to relax as she continued her ministrations, letting his head lean back against the wall behind the bed. Grooming always relaxed the youkai.
Erin gingerly moved the lock of hair aside with which he normally covered his pointed ears. One ear had been spotted during the enthusiastic grooming. There was a sharp intake of breath, and then she paused. Erin finally began breathing again. "I knew it," she said knowingly, pushing the hair behind his ears, "I knew you weren't human. What are you? Some sort of elf? "
"No." His eyes were closed now. He was quite relaxed. He did not really want to put forth the mental effort needed to formulate an appropriate explanation for the girl. "I am a youkai," he corrected. "From Japan," he added as an afterthought.
"Yes, well, that explains the accented English." Erin was busy braiding his hair now. The way the silver strand slipped silkily through her fingers distracted her, and she did not note the lack of verbal explanation yet.
"Hm." Sesshoumaru had never realized that he had anything but perfect English. Fortune had never mentioned it. Then again, Fortune was of French origin, and spoke lightly accented English as well. Sesshoumaru sighed. The human girl had been conversing with him less than an hour and already he was allowing her to groom his hair. But, it was so nice, so calming, so relaxing. He sighed again in contentment. He tried not to think about other times when a certain young girl had busily groomed his hair as well.
"Sesshoumaru," Erin said his name carefully and accurately this time. She held up the short, butchered lock of his hair, "what happened here?"
Sesshoumaru groaned. So, it still had not grown back yet. Damn you, Fortune!
Later that evening…..
"Can you please tell me what we are standing here for?"
"We are waiting," Sesshoumaru offered by way of an answer.
"For…," Fortune was becoming accustomed to having to goad the youkai into conversations.
"For Erin. The girl who wrote the poem."
"Oh, yes, that tasty little girl."
Sesshoumaru gave Fortune a hard look.
"What did you do, Sesshoumaru, follow her home like a lost puppy?"
Sesshoumaru declined to answer.
"I cannot imagine why you would wish her to join us. What is she going to do—braid your hair while I drain the blood out of some other human?"
Sesshoumaru's unreadable expression did not change, but was beginning to wonder if Fortune was a mind reader. "No," he finally answered, also wondering why he was allowing the girl to come with them tonight.
AN2: Sesshoumarusbride—thanks for the review and for pointing out the possible problem with OOC Sess in the story. (it was the flower incident, wasn't it!) This chapter may have the same disease. Please give me some tips on keeping him in character. Or, do you think that I have already stumbled too far into OOC-land to remedy the situation?
Have a busy week coming up, and am going out of town soon. I might be able to update before I leave, if I can get myself motivated. All who read, please review and help my motivation.