Adult-FanFiction.org : Inuyasha / Yashahime

Cycle
By : NihilEtNemo
Category: InuYasha > Yaoi - Male/Male
Views: 3169 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.
Chapter List
- 1-1
- 2-2
- 1
- 2
TITLE: Cycle
CHAPTER:
2/??
AUTHOR: Ankh Ascendant ( setosgirl0 / neferseti0 )
DATE:
12-29-09
FANDOM: Inuyasha
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own
Inuyasha, or make any money from it.
PAIRINGS: mentions of Inu no
Taisho/Sesshou
TYPE: Angst
RATING: chapter: PG-13
WARNINGS:
OCs and Character Death, and the series is about several different
kinds of incest
OCs: Tennin, Inumaru (Sesshoumaru's
children)
BETA: none
WORDS: 3259
SUMMARY: After four hundred
years, Inuyasha has finally passed away, and Sesshoumaru is left with
only his children. But eventually he is reminded that the past always
comes back...
NOTES: If you'd like to see a picture of Tennin, I
have one
here:http://setosgirl0.deviantart.com/art/OC-Tennin-146565645
. Also, the story's moving slow, because I lost focus and felt I
wasn't sure what I wanted to do, but I decided ot keep with my
original plan anyway. Sorry for the wait.

* * *

Cycle
Chapter
02

Pain... When Sesshoumaru became
conscious it was only of pain. Fire ran from the eternal mark on his
neck, along his veins, circling his heart. Not even for a blissful
moment of confusion could he forget that Inuyasha was gone...

A low whine clawed its way out of his
tight throat, the perfect sound of his pain. What he was still doing
here, alive without his mate, he didn't know and didn't want to. This
was not something he could bear.

“Father.” Fingers combed
gently through his hair, brushing the tip of his ear, and he
stiffened. There was a part of him that said he could not show this
pain and weakness in front of his younger, gentler son; Tennin didn't
deserve to be subjected to this. There was another part of him that
felt even his pride and his son's opinion of him no longer mattered,
and it was that part of him that buried his nose in Tennin's arm and
clutched at him, taking whatever support he could get from any
direction it came.

He felt that hand brush over his hair
again, trying to soothe him. “It will be all right, father,”
his son's soft voice assured him. His gentle human-soft fingers
brushed across the stripes on his cheek, and some of the physical
pain actually faded. The emotional did not, and he was sure never
would...

“Tennin...” He managed not
to whine the word, but did not bother to pull away from his son's
hands. He was going to humiliate himself in front of him, but he
didn't really care... “He's gone...”

“Yes father, Uncle Inuyasha is
dead.”

His eyes clenched shut and he whined
again, unable to give any other voice to the pain. Inuyasha could not
be... but was... How could this be?

“Where is he?” He gripped
Tennin's arm tightly, and forced his head up, to look at him. “I
need to see him, where is he...?”

Tennin's blue eyes looked down at him
in what looked like open pity, and he stroked his hair again softly.
“I'm sorry, I took care of him while you slept. You have been
sleeping for three days... I didn't want you to have to deal with it
when you woke.”

He bowed his head against his son's arm
in silent pain. Tennin was right, of course, but gods it hurt. He
couldn't even see him again...

“I let his ashes go, but I made
him a grave if you want to see it,” Tennin told him gently,
stroking his hair.

He nodded, though maybe he should not
have. It would only torture him more. “I do.”

Silently, Tennin stood up and helped
him to stand. He felt faint; he had been out for three days, and his
mind and body were still reeling from losing his mate... it was only
now probably that he was going to live. It was no surprise he had to
lean on Tennin's arm to walk. He let his son guide him without
raising his eyes from the floor beneath their feet.

Dark thoughts occupied his mind,
merging with the darkness of the unlit castle around them. What would
happen to him now? He had rarely heard of a mated youkai surviving
the death of their mate... and never one who went on to have a life
worth living. He, too, may be a weak, useless shell, pining for the
rest of his life... Perhaps he would go insane. He might prefer that,
to not have to realize that he was here without Inuyasha...

Unfortunately, he did not think
insanity was in his future. It was not in his character to lose his
mind with anything but anger, and this... this was not anger. This
was grief so thick it came between him and the rest of the world, a
heavy iron veil...

The cold air as he stepped outside
tried, and failed, to shock him into sensibility. He let the
sensation slide right off of his mind, unable to grasp and focus on
it or anything.

“Here, father,” Tennin
murmured, and he raised his head. They were a short distance into the
trees, but still in full view of their home; he could see his bedroom
from here.

His eyes slowly moved down. At his feet
was a patch of grass partially surrounded by a tumbled 'wall' of
stones that had been moved here, of all sizes, until at the apex of
their half circle sat a small boulder, Inuyasha's name etched into it
by the acidic venom he shared with his son... It was less a grave
than a shrine.

With a noise, he fell to his knees
within the arms of the wall and bowed his head, his hand lying over
Inuyasha's name. The last connection to him...

He could smell nothing of Inuyasha
here, though. His grave, but nothing of him. It was terrible, yet he
was grateful; Tennin had done the right thing in burning his body,
however he had done it. He could not have stood to come to this
grave, shrine, and smell his mate rotting beneath him. His son knew
what was right for him, even if he resented what he did. To touch and
see and smell Inuyasha again, he would have given anything...

“Father.” He heard Tennin
settle on his knees behind him, then he felt the touch of his hand on
his back.

He took a deep breath and raised his
head, eyes closed. If he opened them there would be tears, and he did
not want Tennin to see that, again. “I am all right,” he
said quietly. The ache in his heart argued, but he ignored it as well
as he could. He had to or he would crumble.

“You aren't.” Tennin's arms
wrapped around him, and he found himself sagging against him, unable
to maintain his resolve to even pretend at strength. “I'm
sorry.”

“Tennin...”

Silently, his son held him close, and
he gave in, burying his face against his shoulder. Tears forced their
way from his eyes and he clung to the boy's slim frame. Only the tiny
sound of a fraction of a whine from his throat broke the outer
silence, but within, he was being swept away in a torrent of emotion,
filled with sharp rocks of grief and reminders that Inuyasha was
gone, all pulling him toward an abyss of cold emptiness. He sensed
that if he followed his grief too long that was where it would lead,
and he almost wanted it. No more pain...

But no more love or happiness, ever,
either. He clung to Tennin because Tennin was the only thing left to
cling to, all that stood between him and eternal numbness.

“This was too soon, father, I'm
sorry.” Tennin stood, and instead of letting him go, he picked
him up. The action forced him to remember that Tennin was not a boy
at all, but a man. He was half a millennium old, fully grown, with a
mate of his own...

Though the only one who had ever
carried him, since he was a small child, was Inuyasha, and then only
rarely, he didn't protest. It was so much easier than forcing himself
to walk, and comforting. Instead he touched the old scar of the bite
on Tennin's otherwise pale neck lightly, looking dully at it.

“For your sake, my son...”
he murmured, resting his head on his shoulder as he carried him back
inside, “I pray Inumaru lives longer than his father... You
should never feel this. Inuyasha was only a hundred and fifty years
older than you both...” He cursed the human heritage that had
robbed him of his mate, left him prey to aging and disease like no
true taiyoukai, so easy to take from him. If his father had only
never loved a human...

His hand slid to Tennin's kimono and
clenched in the material; the wandering thought stabbed his heart,
dredging up ancient pain that he had thought long gone. The pain of
losing his mate suddenly reminded him of the pain of losing his
father, his first lover, his god for so long. Inuyasha was not the
first but the second love to be stolen from him long before he was
ready...

Without a word, Tennin returned him to
his room and his bed, sitting beside him. He only reluctantly let go
of his son, feeling irrationally that he was losing an important
connection, missing it. Oh how he hated these emotions... If Inuyasha
had never made him his mate he would never have had to feel any of
them, and he could have existed in his coldness forever...

“I may yet die...” he
murmured, closing his eyes. He felt Tennin settle his fur around him
and he pulled it close.

“Do you wish to?”

“I don't know...”

The mattress settled as the weight of
his son rested on it. Fingers started combing through his hair,
gentle and slow, soothing. “You already lived through his
death,” he said calmly, fingers petting lightly. “If you
die now it is because you want to. You had to want to live, to
survive, and you did... I hope you haven't changed your mind.”

He sighed, lulled by the calm voice and
gentle touch, and the promise of sleep itself. “You are
wise...” he murmured. He wasn't awake long enough to hear the
response.

_ –
=*= – _

“Sesshoumaru.”

He looked up at the voice and barely
contained a smile when he saw his father, ducking his head again
quickly to hide it.

“Come here, my boy.”

He stood and hurried forward, almost
tripping on his kimono in his eagerness. He bowed clumsily when he
reached his father's feet, his insides feeling all warm and happy
just to be near him. Standing, he barely reached his father's waist,
but it hardly mattered when he scooped him up in his strong arms.

He held onto the closest spike of
his arm and snuggled against his shoulder, rubbing his face in his
fur. So soft, smelled so good...

A light kiss landed on his cheek,
and he smiled, unable to help it. He nuzzled against his cheek
instead of the fur, relishing the rough feel of the dark stripe
against his skin. He wanted stripes like that when he grew up...

_
– =*= – _

A gentle touch on
his cheek, brushing away his hair, made him stir, and he slowly
opened his eyes.

At first, he did
not know who he was seeing, and his mind struggled to sort out his
sight.

Father? No... He
had stripes, but there were two, a lighter blue color, smooth, and he
was too thin and his hair, though the right color, was too short...
He wore no armor, only a blue kimono and silvery hakama...

Inuyasha? Could...
No. No, Inuyasha had no stripes, most of the time, and they too were
ragged when he did... The figure was the right height, but he had no
furry ears, and his face was too calm, and his eyes were brown,
gentle, cool...

Naraku? His heart
skipped a half a beat, even as his eyes widened, but he knew better.
The hair was silver and there was no vicious or condescending smirk
on his face.

Besides... they
were all dead.

He closed his eyes
again and sighed heavily, leaning into the hand still on his cheek.
“Tennin,” he murmured, almost wishing he had never
realized who was with him. His relationship with reality was
beginning to grow hateful.

“Who did you
think, father?” Tennin's finger's stroked his cheek gently. He
should tell him to stop, but the light touch on his stripes felt
good, perhaps too good. It fought away the pain of memory.

“Sometimes I
forget that you are grown,” he said, and raised his hand to
touch his son's, stilling it. “You resembled... others.”

“My father?”

“In no way,”
he denied. “Never.”

“Your
father?”

He opened his eyes
a little and looked at Tennin, considering the question. His eyes
wandered over him, comparing his memory and his sight. “Very
little,” he finally decided. “Almost not at all. Why?”

“You
mentioned him in your sleep.” Tennin finally sat beside him,
and began to stroke his cheek again. “Rather, you were speaking
to him, and using archaic language. Were you dreaming?”

“I was... a
memory.” He let his eyes wander toward the wall. The expansive
but ancient mansion that was his earthly home was silent... so still.
There was no Inuyasha, any longer, seeking his attention or talking
to himself or playing with his son or... anything. There was no
Inuyasha at all, anymore. He bit his tongue to distract himself, but
the memory of the knowledge did not reduce him to quivering pain this
time, or tears. It hurt, but... gods, was he beginning to accept that
he was gone?

“Inumaru...”
he murmured; Tennin's fingers paused. “The house is silent
without Inumaru. It's lonesome, now that... it's empty. You should
call him back.”

“I've already
called for him,” Tennin assured him. “Will you tell me
about your father?”

“Why?”
He glanced at him, dimly curious about his curiosity. It had never
come up before...

“I've never
known anything about him, and I thought that it would be a good
subject for your distraction? Was I wrong?”

“No.”
He closed his eyes again and sighed, leaning into Tennin's hand. “You
are as perceptive as ever... It is distracting to me, but it is
also...”

Tennin stroked his
cheek once more. “I know he's dead... Does it pain you as it
does to think of Uncle Inuyasha?”

“...It does,”
he admitted quietly. “I loved my father...”

“As I love
you.”

He shook his head
gently. “No... As I loved Inuyasha.” Tennin's fingers
paused. “For as long as I was with... Inuyasha, I was with
him...”

There was nothing
said. Tennin absorbed the information in silence and stroked his
cheek, and the silence stretched out for several minutes. His own
thoughts turned back to the ancient problem that was his father, and
his feelings for his father. More than half a millennium since his
death had resolved nothing, in truth...

“It was
wrong,” he finally murmured. “I was a very young child
and he took advantage of my regard for him for very many years. I
know this and I have known this for four hundred years, but it
changes nothing of my affections...”

“Did he love
you?” Tennin wondered, all distant curiosity. Even now the
boy's – man's – cold emotions could surprise him, such a
casual question in such a conversation.

“I don't
know,” he sighed, and closed his eyes. “To this day I
know not. He was never one who would show such a thing, that I ever
saw...”

“What kind of
person was he?”

Sesshoumaru
considered the question. Perhaps Tennin was onto something...
Thinking about facts instead of feelings helped keep him from
wallowing in misery. “Very powerful,” he finally said.
“In every way, he was very powerful. He was absolute master of
himself and his emotions, his body, his power. He was very commanding
– harsh, but not cruel, ever, in his mind, though he could seem
that way. He had very high standards for everyone, and no tolerance
for weakness or failure, but to meet his standards and to please
him...” He opened his eyes and sought the window, instinctively
searching for the moon. It was not visible, or likely yet risen, but
his eyes stayed there. “A single word of praise or kind touch
was worth any trial.”

“He sounds
like you,” Tennin said quietly, and touched his hair.

“No.”
His eyes shifted from the window to his son.

“No?”

“I resemble
him the way a candle resembles the sun, nothing more. I tried to be
like him, but even I know I have never been more than a pale shadow
of his strength or power. I know he would never have been bound by
anyone as I am by him, still.”

“I think you
judge yourself harshly, father.”

“No, it's not
my habit to do so. You never knew him... This is only the truth. I am
missing several important parts from his personality, if I were to
want to be him. Unlike my father, I can be very cruel, and very
wrathful, and very depressed... My self control can fail me. I am
less commanding and more arrogant, less powerful and much less
beautiful...” His thought trailed off and abandoned him in the
midst of memory. There was not a single sight of his father that had
not been a perfect vision, and yet for some reason the perfect man
had chosen him, and given him that title, 'beautiful'...

“I find this
hard to believe, father,” Tennin chastised him gently. “As
his son you must at least resemble him.”

“You would
think so...” he murmured. “Recall my mother, and how much
I look like her.”

“You have two
stripes, while she has one,” Tennin said promptly, as though
that would argue with him.

“Father, too,
had only one, and they looked like Inuyasha's, when he was angry and
turning demon...” He closed his eyes, and felt Tennin stroke
his hair again.

“Perhaps I
should not make you think of them,” Tennin murmured. “I'm
sorry.”

“Everything
will make me think of one or the other.”

“Did you love
Uncle Inuyasha more than your father?” Tennin asked. He did not
seem to have inherited Inuyasha's repugnance at the thought of a
father loving his son in that way; he had spent little time around
humans and their morals, and to him the question was only academic,
perhaps interesting, but not disgusting. He was selfishly glad.
Inuyasha had always turned so cold when he knew he was thinking of
his father, for once it was nice to be allowed to indulge the
thoughts...

From now on,
Inuyasha and his father would have to live together in his memory.
Perhaps one day they would be equal, but it hurt too much to think
too openly of Inuyasha now, when he could turn his head and see his
grave...

“No,”
he murmured, and touched Tennin's hand. “No more than being
mated made it so. I loved them the same... but at least I know that
Inuyasha loved me.” That was not something he could have ever
admitted to Inuyasha. His mate would have hated him so if he heard
that...

He suddenly found
Tennin wrapping his arms around him tightly – much more of a
display of emotion than he was used to. Tennin nuzzled his hair, a
comforting gesture for them both. “I love you too, father,”
he murmured.

He lifted his hand
to Tennin's hair and turned his face toward him. He seemed like
emotions should be foreign to him, but his son somehow had a talent
for saying the right thing... the crushing aloneness lifted, if only
a little. A little was still enough to live.

“Thank you,”
he murmured, and didn't explain. Tennin would know. “I love you
too.”

~to
be continued~
- 1
- 2
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Cycle	By : NihilEtNemo Category: InuYasha > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3169 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.

Cycle