"You hold the answers deep within your own mind
Consciously, you've forgotten it
That's the way the human mind works
Whenever something is too unpleasant, too shameful for us
to entertain, we eject it
We erase it from our memories
But the imprint is always there"

Chapter One

The late summer day was immeasurably warm and humid, the sky a deep azure unmarked by clouds. The day would not have been so unbearable had there been even a feathery breeze, unfortunately, not a leaf from even the tallest trees stirred. However, all that was occurring outside of the office of Amaya Sesshoumaru was ignored. He cared little for the world outside his office; he cared little about everything save for his reputation and his father's business. The sunlight that had filtered through the large corporate glass window of his office, casting sharp shadows against the pale ivory of his carpet went unnoticed. His office was neat and orderly, reflecting the personality of its sole occupant. Conversely, the room gave off an inhospitable aura, the furniture a dark cherry stained wood: hard, impersonal, and elegant. The spacious office's décor was nothing short of refined, the focal point of the room was a large desk, half of which was taken up by a laptop on the other half were several documents of the company's expenditures and income as well as a telephone, two large bookshelves adorned the room's left wall. A small end table on which was an ornate lacquered vase, a deep cerulean blue with gold trim along the mouth and base, separated them and a gilded ivy design was painted along its sides.

The silence of the room was unbroken save for the scratch of the ballpoint pen across the sheets of paper; no ticking of a clock, no traffic from the outside world disturbed him. Sensitive ears did not desire to hear the repetitive ticking of the clock, the bustle of mortals, and the infernal racket of machinery. The motion of the pen paused, as its owner stopped, reflecting for a moment on the nature of his work, the purpose it served, and the responsibility it held. Although the work was cumbersome, often menial, and always repulsive it served a great purpose, it was he that made the minor decisions, it was he who was to succeed the great Inutaisho, and it was he who held the place of second most powerful in the entire building. Responsibility granted to him on basis of being the first born, the most adept and yet the fear still remained in the recess of his mind. Guarantees were fools gold, being eldest was meaningless should his father choose to bequeath everything to the halfling Inuyasha.

Sesshoumaru's lip curled into a snarl at the thought of the hanyou taking what was his, it was his birthright, and his father would be a fool to entrust such a task on such an irresponsible child. Youkai longevity marked Inuyasha as an infant, a toddler compared to the vast knowledge and experience that Sesshoumaru could claim. Still, the comfort was intangible, and he rested uneasily. Inuyasha was the preferred son; the prodigal son was a more accurate term in his mind. Coarse, the only word that could be used to describe the short-tempered youth, made the situation almost laughable. Imagine, the crude man-child in a tailored three-piece suite attempting to sway the opinion of other men into agreeing with his decisions for the betterment of the company. The image was ludicrous. The mere idea of Inuyasha making any corporate decisions was ludicrous. With these thoughts, the doubt was pushed further back and Sesshoumaru resumed his work, the pen scratching across the page and eyes roving down the finance papers.

The noise of the pen ceased once more, silence filled the room as Sesshoumaru, seated in his black leather chair, sniffed the air lightly at knocking on his office door, and he recognized the scent to be that of his snow youkai secretary, Kinusaya.

"Enter," he said, not looking up when the door opened and Kinusaya entered the room. She was a tall youkai, pale and slender; half of her ice blue hair was pulled into a bun the rest cascaded freely past her shoulders, accenting her two-piece lavender suite.

"Sesshoumaru-sama, your father has requested your presence in his office immediately. He said that it was a matter of utmost importance and that you must not tarry."

"Very well, inform my father that I am on my way."

"Hai, Sesshoumaru-sama," she answered before leaving the room. Sesshoumaru stared pensively at the closed door before he too stood up and exited the room.

This is what I brought you, this you can keep.

Amaya Inutaisho gazed at the door to his office anxiously, what he had to discuss with his eldest son was a matter that could not afford to be put off any longer than it had already been. He had hoped that the issue would not be necessary, but as time passed, it had become painfully obvious that the matter could no longer be ignored. His thoughts tinged with nervousness and fear twisted in his mind, surely he could discuss the matter with Sesshoumaru. Surely, there would be no conflicts. Yet the fear remained. Had Sesshoumaru noticed or even suspected the fear he would have scoffed, believing fear to be a mortal emotion. Inutaisho knew differently, fear was an emotion all living things felt, the fear of dying, of losing that was valued the most, whether ningen, youkai, or mere animal all living creatures were capable of fear. Still the fear was not enough to prevent him broaching the subject with his son. There was only one miniscule problem that Inutaisho had to resolve, how to inform and persuade Sesshoumaru to agree to- Inutaisho's thoughts were interrupted by the knocking at his door, knowing immediately that it was his son he quickly ushered Sesshoumaru in and asked him to take a seat.

"Konnichiwa Sesshoumaru, hopefully this meeting shall be brief and you may return to your office and complete your tasks."

"My work was mostly finished, Father, I was only looking over the company's finances as one mistake could be very costly for the business."

"Yes, yes of course."

"Not to be impertinent Father, but I would appreciate it if you would tell me why I was summoned here."

"Well, my son, a matter has once more come to my attention, a matter that can no longer be overlooked as it has been for the past three-hundred and fifty years. This most pressing matter regards your future as well as the future of this business. Sesshoumaru, as you are no doubt aware, society has began to score a person's ability by the type of college degree that they earned; businesses have put the most weight on those thin sheets of paper. This is most troubling for our business as most of our employees do not have degrees, and many companies are beginning to refuse working with us, because you, my eldest son and heir, do not have at least a Bachelor's degree, or the equivalent to; although, a masters or doctorate would be preferable."

"Father, are you telling me that I must attend a university?"

"Unfortunately, Sesshoumaru that is exactly what you must do, for the business and for your own future. I have selected an exemplary university in Tokyo, it is the same university that Inuyasha is to attend, and their Business department is superb. While you are in Tokyo you will oversee that particular branch of our business whilst you are not busy with your studies. I have also procured an apartment for you; most of your things will be delivered there seeing how you will be living there for at least the next four years. Do not worry, when the time comes, you will not share an apartment with Inuyasha. Inuyasha will not be attending college for three more years and has at the moment, decided to live in a dorm. Seeing how it is only June, you still have a little over a month to get all of your affairs in order and situate yourself in your new home.

"I take it that I have no other option but to accept, very well Father, if that is your wish and if the company depends on this I shall attend this college that you have chosen."

"Sesshoumaru, believe me when I say that if there was any other option available you would not be coerced to attend college, unfortunately this is our only alternative and you must learn to accept your fate. Perhaps you shall learn that college is not as insufferable as you first imagined and the fact that you will be coerced to socialize with ningens will become the least of your problems. Ningens are truly not as vile as you deem them to be my son, they are not worthless and the majority of them are quite decent."

Sesshoumaru did not respond to his father's final statement, nor did his face reveal any of the emotions or inner turmoil that he might have been feeling, as it remained as impassive as ever. He stood up slowly and took his leave from his fathers office, cold amber eyes staring strait ahead, he barely acknowledged the building's employees as he passed them. Although he understood the reasoning behind his father's judgment, Sesshoumaru was still angered and repulsed by the prospect of attending a college that also accepted the deplorable human species as their alumni. It was utterly disgraceful that he would be coerced to spend the next four years in such an ignoble place, it was degrading, demeaning, abhorred, and well below his station. To spend a minimum of four years in such a state, with Inuyasha in such close proximity was a curse, a punishment for some unknown deed.

Conversely, there was one thing that greatly troubled Sesshoumaru; it was the fact that his father appeared to have left out one crucial fact during their discussion. It had become apparent when he stated that the matter had been overlooked for the past three-hundred and fifty years, college degrees had not been necessary until fifty years ago. Whatever the motives for his father's suspicious actions, Sesshoumaru knew that the matter in question concerned him and that he would more than likely not enjoy the announcement, whenever Inutaisho deemed him ready to know. However, for now it would suffice to know whom Inutaisho intended to replace him with and if that person was competent. Unfortunately, that too was not revealed to Sesshoumaru and only time would reveal his replacement, whether it was to be for better or for worse.

He sat down at his desk, picked the pen up and soon the only noise in the spacious room was that of the scratching of the pen.

I promise you my heart
Just promise to sing

The slumbering figure in the king-sized bed had not shifted during the time that Sesshoumaru was lost within his memories; a luxury that he often times was unable to partake. He gazed at the diminutive form slumbering contentedly, she slept like the dead he mused; no she slept like an innocent, untainted by the cruelty of the world and the putrid odor of corruption did not hover around her as it did in most ningens. He felt that such a thing would be marvelous, to be able to live without sin, without darkness on the soul, but such a thing was denied to him. He needed, he needed, what was unattainable. No, he did not need, a need was something he could not live without, he wanted what was unattainable for a want signified a desire. Wants and needs, it was funny how the line between the two blurred so often when he thought of her.

He continued to watch the steady rise and fall of her bosom, the sheets moving slightly with each inhale countered by the following exhale. Steady, even. As a youkai, he did not require much sleep, but ningens were weak and required a specific quantity of hours of sleep to live for if their bodies were not permitted to sleep they would surely die. Weak, he thought, inexplicably weak creatures, and she was a fragile china doll that he needed to keep safe, to stop her from being knocked off the shelf and shattering into thousands of pieces. While she was whole he could hold her, could take care of her, could leave for brief periods without much worry, but if she shattered nothing would remain the same. The scattered pieces could be gathered, he could put her back together, carefully applying glue to each jagged edge, but the fault lines would always remain, fractured, and weakened beyond repair. An illusion of the former beauty, damaged and guilt would set in, guilt from his lack of ability to protect. He had seen broken ningens before and as he watched her sleep he vowed he would not allow her to be broken.

The slumbering figure suddenly shifted, a soft sound of discomfort escaping her lips, she had rolled to his side of the bed, her brow furrowed. Sesshoumaru sighed softly and walked to the bed after locking the balcony doors securely behind him, with the natural grace of a youkai he laid down beside his mate. He cradled her gently in his arms, her face instantly relaxed and she mumbled something that not even he with his exceptional hearing could comprehend. Only she could extract such tenderness, only she could sleep beside him without fear, and only she among her kind deserved what he gave.

He cared for her, that he would not deny, but love was not something he would admit. He did not love, he did not know love, he could recite definitions of it, explain what it made people feel, but he did not know the meaning of the word, never experiencing such an attachment to another being in centuries. The feeling was forgotten, erased from his memories and from his understanding. A hand moved to her head, the long tapered fingers burrowed in her dark hair, claws combing through the silky locks, and he wondered for the nth time what her feelings towards him were. Her emotions where complex, compassion, adoration, admiration, and something else that he was incapable of naming, but he knew it was not love. She did not love him, but she did not see him as simply a good friend whom she decided to marry. Something in-between perhaps, not quite love but not quite friendship. How he loathed the grey areas of life, the inconsistency of emotions.

Still, he felt that emotions were completely overrated; ningens held love sacred, but it was all completely irrelevant. His gaze shifted down to the woman in his arms, the woman who trusted him with her life and believed that he would never physically injure her, even though he had the power to end her life with one slash of his claws. It was somewhat refreshing and comforting to know that his ningen did not view him as a callous monster, which more often than not was how ningens viewed him and his race. How quickly they had infuriated him and though he had longed to purge the world of their deplorable existence, he had resigned himself to ignoring their petty words.

The matter no longer concerned him, he gazed at his mate once more, trust was a form of love and Sesshoumaru did not trust nor could he love, especially something as despicable and vile as a ningen for they were known for their debauchery. Overgeneralization, stereotyping, whatever the term others preferred it did not matter to him, it simplified ningens, gave them flat personalities for if he were to acknowledge their different facets he felt that he could not despise them as much as he did. Yet, his mate was ningen, he knew all the facets of her personality and he would not attempt to remove her flaws, they made her what she was. Nevertheless, Sesshoumaru loathed the fact that, in the eyes of all youkai, he had developed the same weakness of his father, and he abhorred the fact that he had made the same mistake that his father had made with the wretched ningen, Izayoi.

Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.