I know it's stupid of me, but one day, I woke up and decided to extend my one-shot, Unforgotten, into a full-length story. The only problem? I don't have anything worked out yet, except a vague plot line …
Sesshoumaru's mate is not going to appear many times in this story, if any. I don't want to be sent death threats that often. She's not a self-insert, or anyone special. I doubt they even love each other anyway. The immortality thing is shamelessly copied from 'The Last Unicorn'.
I forgot to add this in my first chapter. Rumiko randomly walking into my house, handed me all the InuYasha characters and walked out again. Oh yeah, did I forget to mention she said I was a horribe liar as well? No, really.
It was morning, and yet another dawn found Sesshoumaru trekking silently along a nearly invisible forest path. It was clearly outside his territory, but that had never stopped him before. He was alone – Jaken having passed away only a decade ago, old and withered, but extremely happy. He had got his wish; to build an empire with his beloved master, and had lived long, even for his own kind. Sesshoumaru had not seen in years that empire though – along with his mate, Michiko. But she was sensible, and knew how to rule almost a quarter of Japan quite well enough without his help. Better, even. She had not his quick temper, lack of patience and love of outdoors, that practically no one knew of. Why else would he be out here, when everyone in his place would be safe and comfortable in his richer then royal palace. He made a mute and invisible sigh, lips not moving more then a millimetre. The lesser youkai population was more then last week, stronger ones less. He mulled over the thought, reminded briefly of an event around a century ago – a huge and powerful youkai had chased out all the youkai in a small territory in the Eastern lands. Larger, more powerful youkai had flocked there, all hoping to kill the youkai and become famous. Of course, it not being in his lands, Sesshoumaru had not bothered about it, doing no more then regularly checking to see if it was coming to his territory.
Was this time like last? He found that most of the youkai were from the south, but many were from elsewhere. Was there an actual threat now? He doubted it – since that hanyou, Naraku, was dead, there had not been anything in the least bit threatening for centuries. Maybe InuYasha's head had swollen enough that the youkai population was running out there to try to exterminate him. Or at least deflate his swelled ego. Sesshoumaru stretched out the fingers in his left hand, listening to them click. Smiling inwardly, he enjoyed the feel of having his arm back. It had, over the centuries, grown back and was now just as good as his old arm, if not better.
Thoughts darted back and forth, from a particularly ugly youkai he had met just before, to what looked like an oncoming war between two tribes of human in his territory. Not that he minded the humans killing each other – that was a good thing – but how much damage would it do to the countryside, and would it attract even more youkai, coming to feed off the large numbers of humans in one place? That would be irritating; hundreds of lesser youkai running all over the place trying to claim a bit of land for themselves.
Sesshoumaru sighed mentally. His mate had mentioned that maybe it would be best if he went in and got rid of one of the armies … or both. It would certainly save a lot of bother in the long run, but he was nowhere near them, and it would take at least two days to reach there, running all the way in his true form. He would just let them work it out between themselves, and clean up the mess later.
His thoughts flicked back to his mate, probably sitting at home in some incredible boring meeting with a group of equally tedious and arrogant youkai. He did not envy her.
Michiko was a Taiyoukai like him, also dog, but a lot weaker – her strongest attack probably could only destroy Sesshoumaru's light whip, but she was faster, lither and more agile. The new lady of the western lands had more white then silver hair however, and it reached just to the middle of her back. Yellowish orange eyes seemed to stay in a constant expression of calm and annoying motherly understanding, while single maroon stripes lay across her cheeks. She was a little less then a head shorter then he, and many had requested to be her mate. Too bad the one she chose did not want it. Truly, Sesshoumaru had accepted only because she was tolerable, and the nearby youkai population had been breathing down his neck for around a century, practically telling him in his face that if he did not produce an heir, there would be a threat of invasion. The western lands were large, and valuable – many had their eyes on it, human or youkai. Still, any thoughts of even his mate bearing his child was about as welcome as paying his hanyou brother a welcome visit in a town full of humans, laden with flowers and words of forgiveness and apology. Not that there was anything to apologize about.
One thing led to another, and through a storm of memories, painful and loved, one mortal girl shone above all others. Yet he, Sesshoumaru, was practically immortal – nothing could best him in strength, power, wisdom, there was no danger of him being killed, yet the span of life for dog Taiyoukai had never been lived to it's full before. Never had one died of old age, and all had lived ranging from just a century to five millennium. He had heard that in time he could easily defeat even his father, the great lord InuTashio, if he were still alive.
But the mortal he remembered was just that – mortal, or at least physically. Her body was no more, her mind long gone. Yet she remained, untarnished in his memories, and would stay there for as long as he remained. He had his immortality, and so she had hers.
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Treading lightly through and past weaving vines, clinging to each other and the sombre trees, towering over the dirt path, the Lord of the Western lands looked fleetingly at a flower, delicate and alone, standing silently to one side. Immediately he remembered something he could of sworn that he did not know just a minute ago. An image of Rin, his little human girl, picking that same flower and reaching up to hand it to him, all those centuries ago. He had moved to pick it up, when the bitter Northern wind picked it up and blew it out of her hand and into the forest.
"Away …" Rin whispered, and the memory faded and was gone, leaving Sesshoumaru alone in the pathway, the tiny white flower gone without trace.
