His Mother
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha
''Lord Sesshomaru! Wait, Lord Sesshomaru!''
A tall, regal man stopped at hearing his name. He knew who it was without looking
behind him, waiting for Rin and Jaken to catch up.
''Jaken.''
''Yes, milord?''
''Stay here, watch Rin.''
''Yes, Lord. But where are you...?''
He walked away before the imp could finish his sentence.
; &g t; br
He had been walking for a while when he smelled the Sakura Blossoms. They reminded him of her. She had been the only person he ever truly cared about. He remembered how beautiful she was, how perfect. She did have faults, but it was her faults that made her perfect.
If one were to look at him, they would only see his icy exterior. But if one were to feel what he felt, they would feel a pain worse than anything ever experienced. For what pain can compare to the pain of losing one's mother?
He had flashbacks whenever he breathed in the scent of the Sakura Blossoms, or on the rare occasions when he would dream, his dreams would be about her. In those dreams, she was always there waiting for him with open arms, just as she had in life.
He had been 17 when she died, it was a long time ago, but he remembered everything perfectly. Her health had been detieriating, and she had been getting weaker during the few days leading up to her death.
When they first told him she didn't have much longer to live, just a few hours, he sat with her as she lay there. He remembered feeling so helpless, that he could never heal from this. She told him he needed to be strong, for himself, for his father, and for her. He asked her if she was afraid to die. She said no, that they weren't destined for this world, and that she only wished she could stay with him longer.
He had fallen asleep, and his father came and carried him to his room. He awoke the next morning to his father gently shaking him, calling his name. He opened his eyes and sat up, seeing the tears falling down his father's face, and he knew that his mother was gone. He was told she passed early in the morning. Her breathing had become labored during the night and she slipped into unconsciousness. But before she died, her breathing evened out and she became peaceful.
He had been angry at first that he hadn't been there, that no one had come and woken him up so he could have been there. But his anger melted away when he saw his mother's body laid out on the pyre, and was replaced with shock.
It was so hard to believe that his mother was gone. She couldn't be. He had seen her alive just the day before. How could she be gone?
His father stayed with the body during the night, and the following night the body was set ablaze. That was the last he saw of his mother. Her ashes were taken and buried, and he used to visit the grave often, but he didn't anymore.
A month after her death, he had gone out to the Sakura Trees. She had always smelled like Sakura Blossoms. It had been so easy before to just think that she was only gone for a while, that she was going to come back. But when he went out and smelled the blossoms, he had realized for the first time that his mother was never coming back to him again. She was never going to come back and be his mother again. He realized this, and cried.
He remembered all of this. He still missed her so much, still wanted her to come back, still wanted to talk to her one last time. And as he breathed in the scent of the Sakura Blossoms once more, he turned and left with a silent tear sliding down his cheek.