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Home Wrecker	By : NihilEtNemo Category: InuYasha > Yaoi - Male/Male > Inu no Taish?/Sessh?maru > Inu no Taish?/Sessh?maru Views: 6302 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own or make money from Inuyasha.

Chapter List
- 4
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Chapter 5

Clouds swirled and parted with a sudden upheaval; it was hardly unexpected. In fact, that was why she had been hanging around. It was about time for him to come visit.

The great dog bounded lightly through the clouds toward her home; she watched him across the distance in boredom, and barely raised her eyes when he alighted in her courtyard. So like him not to wait for an invitation. She didn't bother to speak until he had resumed his human form and approached her seat.

"Well, you certainly took your time."

"I have been busy. You look well, Inukimi."

"You as well, Taishou," she said in polite disinterest. She no more knew his name than Sesshoumaru did, than anyone living as far as she was aware did, and she certainly would never call him 'father' again, so his self-appointed title had become his name. However he thought she looked, he did not look at her as he once had, even with the appreciation of the last time he had seen her. It was such a pity he was so infatuated with his new human...

Her disinterest obviously did not go unnoticed. "Do you hate me for loving your son?"

She smiled a little bit. "You don't know how to love, old man."

"You know that is not true, my Inukimi."

Her eyes shot toward him in a suddenly hateful glare, but she reined in her expression again. He too was smiling a little bit; that was what gave her the will to control herself. She hated that self-satisfied expression... As though he could do no wrong and fate would always prove him to have been right. Smug bastard.

With a sigh she forced her irritation into another channel, converting it to a display of sorrow. "Do you always kill those you love? Go on and tell me the terrible news, I can take it."

"Sesshoumaru is not dead, Inukimi."

"Hm?" She blinked her eyes open and sat up straight in surprise. Not dead? "He failed to challenge you then? I was certain that was the path he was on..."

"He did." One large hand raised to his throat. "He was closer than any other. Were you not watching?"

"I didn't want to see my dear son's death." Her hand rested on her heart and her eyes shifted demurely downward. "It would have hurt far too much to bear."

"Mm," was his only comment. "Perhaps you should have. You would know then that I spared his life."

Her eyes rose back to him, speculatively considering his face. "There is something special about him, then, after all..."

"Not now," he denied calmly, delivering the matter-of-fact insult to their son with little or no feeling. "But there could be. He has much room to grow."

"You are such a strange man..."

"As you've said before," he agree complacently. She doubted he really agreed; he probably simply didn't care what she thought of him any longer. It was so harsh to no longer be of importance.

"Well." She sat back and folded her hands inside her sleeves, fully aware of how cool the gesture appeared. "Did you come only to tell me my son still lives?"

"Not only that." As though he had been waiting for that invitation, he approached her, drawing something from within the folds of his obi. A strange black pendant hung in the air, and her ears actually shifted forward a little bit as her interest was piqued. There was a strange void scent and a feel of power about it... She refused to stand, but she could not help leaning forward as it approached. "This is for you."

Her hand reached out and took it from him, admiring the construction of the jewelry. The pearls that were strung together for the chain were fascinatingly enormous, and flawlessly beautiful, and the dark jewel in the center of the graven gold was icy cold to the touch, and thrummed with inner power. "What is it?"

"A meidou stone." She glanced up at his face in surprise. "It will open a window or a portal to the next world, although I had it made in such a way that it cannot be a weapon."

She cared little for weapons and would have had little use for it if it were; a window, however, piqued her interest even further. "You do know me so well," she fully admitted with a faint smile, admiring the pretty thing again. There was nothing quite so fascinating as observing, and it was nice to know he recognized that. So thoughtful. And it even looked so good resting atop her kimono, she discovered as she put it on.

"I'm sure you will enjoy learning to master it," he agreed. "There is only one condition attached." Her glance at him was slightly suspicious, but he was unaffected. "If Sesshoumaru returns to you asking questions, it must be used to test him; I will also warn you that it will put his life in great peril. I believe you will know when the time is right."

"You are so sentimental," she said dryly, running her fingers over the icy stone. "But as you wish. What will it be testing, his masochism? I doubt he will play that game for your amusement."

"I will be leaving him Tenseiga."

Though she didn't move, her gaze on him sharpened. There was no scent of sickness or decay on him... his mind and personality seemed exactly the same as ever, so accepting and in control. "Are you planning to die soon?"

"It is not my plan, but my plans may matter little." That did not seem to bother him at all.

Her head tilted slightly in curiosity. "Do you see the future after all?" she wondered.

"No mortal may have that gift," he chided her gently. "And for all our power, we too are mortal. But I have had a long and good life, and you cannot live as long as I have without developing a feel for the currents of fate. My time is near."

She considered him silently. After all this time even he would lie down to the will of the gods, or whatever was running everything... Well, if that didn't drive one's mortality home, nothing really would, would it?

"Do you want to stay here for the night, then?" she asked with a playful little smile. "I really should repay you for this pretty bauble."

He smiled faintly. "No, you know as well as I that our time is over." He turned and walked away, the wind whipping his hair as he approached the stairs. "Farewell, Inukimi."

She watched him retake his grand form and bound off, and huffed. Well, at least she got a new toy out of it.

***

The scent of his father's blood drew him, an irresistible call he felt leagues away.

He followed it without a thought, though his emotions were in turmoil. He did not know what he was going to find, and he did not know what he hoped for... His father struck down in battle or murdered by humans for his meddling? The vision occurred to him, overlaying the land as he flew over it, and he shuddered. No, he was not hoping for that. He did not wish his father dead, only punished, and only at his own hand, if at all...

Anger and betrayal might never fade, but he did not wish to see him dead.

But what if that was what he found? It was hard to believe it could happen, but such a strong smell of blood - and, as he drew nearer, the churned earth and power scents, and the fainter scent of a different blood - spoke of a battle in which is father had come out worse. Was that even possible?

He had to pass near the human village, that human village, before he could reach the source of the scent. He did not pass through it this time, but he was assaulted by a strong scent from them - an overwhelming combination of fear and anger. He knew without a doubt that it was directed at his father. He could even hazard a guess at the reasons - the terrible "demon" had gotten their beloved princess with a half-youkai abomination, hadn't he? A question crossed his mind, what his father was going to do about their hatred when he obviously intended to keep the useless woman and her offspring...

Then his mind questioned whether his father was still alive to do anything about it, and he winced. With a renewed burst of speed, he passed them and their petty emotions, homing in on the site of the battle.

He did not recognize the scent of his father's opponent, but it was powerful - very powerful. Perhaps even powerful enough to have defeated him...

Finally, he found himself stopping at the edge of a gorge that had probably not been there at sunrise, and staring at a sleeping dragon.

It was huge. Though it was pinned to the other side of the gorge with a giant claw, it dwarfed him probably as much as his father's true form did. The power he smelt and felt was still within it, but it was sealed, just as the dragon itself was sealed, by that claw.

Wind blew and stirred the scents around, and the dragon did not wake. He doubted it ever would. It was clear that his father had come out the victor, even if he hadn't been able to kill his opponent, but a great battle had been fought here. The earth had been ravaged; he could clearly see his father's enormous claw marks in the soil and stone. Blood from both parties stained it deeply in places, in others stood in half-congealed pools.

It was a relief to have not found his father's body here with his vanquished opponent, but the amount of blood was not encouraging. Even from his great form, losing so much blood was serious. He weak would the battle have to have left him for him to seal his opponent, but not have the strength to then kill it?

It was not inconceivable his father had left the scene and died elsewhere of his wounds.

With that thought he flew over the gorge, leaving the trapped dragon behind, seeking the trail. The scent of blood and battle was so heavy that he had to range further afield than he would have liked before he picked it up again, but when he had it again he followed it doggedly, trying to make up for the lost time. Occasional drops and pools of blood on the ground led him for a bit, disappearing where he assumed his father had retaken his lesser form. He wasn't sure if that had been a good idea on his part... His human form might heal faster, but it had much less blood to lose.

The further he went, the more convinced he became that he was going to find nothing but a body where his father had collapsed from his injuries. His heart clenched at the idea, but there was no possibility of not continuing the search.

It was almost full dark when he finally found him, standing on a low bluff that overlooked the sea. There was no fresh scent of blood around him, and Sesshoumaru felt like a fool, and an alarmist. He was not standing here dying; he would heal and recover his full strength in a handful of days, at the outside. He need never have been alarmed...

Foolish as he felt, he still landed in the grass not far behind him. He had not seen his father in months, and now that he was here he could not leave just yet, even if he was unwelcome... There was no anger scent around him, nor any particular emotion he could pick out. Should he have left? He wasn't sure if his father cared one way or another for his presence, and that was worse than being unwelcome. How did he have such a talent for making people feel so small without a word?

"Did you come to find me, Sesshoumaru?" he finally asked, acknowledging his presence as he looked down at the ceaseless waves. The wind was picking up, blowing their hair and fur, sending back to him the scents of old shed blood and battle that still surrounded his father.

"I thought you had been killed."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you." He barely glanced back, meeting his eyes for only a brief second.

Sesshoumaru considered the glimpse he got of him as he turned away again. He seemed calm... tired. Although he had stubbornly regenerated his armor in its entirety, his clothes were worn and frayed, an outer expression of inner weakness. His wounds were no longer leaking life-threatening amounts of blood but had also not yet healed. Though he would recover from the battle eventually... he had not yet.

He could have killed him now, of that he was sure. He had no desire to.

"I am not disappointed."

His father did not answer. He watched the waves pensively, and Sesshoumaru watched him. He had known him long enough to see that something was weighing on his mind, and he doubted it was the battle he had so recently survived. What was so important?

He didn't ask. He probably wouldn't have been answered anyway. Since when could he expect his father to be open and forthcoming... especially with someone he no longer cared for?

"You are going to have to rest long," he said instead, stating the obvious because he had nothing more to say.

"I am not going home."

His eyes narrowed slightly at his father's back. "You're going to go to her?"

"Are you going to stop me, Sesshoumaru?"

How he wished he could. If he could have, though, he would have done it long ago... now it was far too late. To stop him he would have had to kill him after all, and that wasn't what he wanted...

"No," he finally answered.

There was a slight bob of his father's head that he interpreted as a faint nod. Of course his father would never expect him to kill him... He couldn't even raise any irritation at being thought so weak, or at being so predictable. He could not be angry at the truth.

That did not change deeper truths, though - such as the fact that he did not want him to go to her. Not ever, and especially not now, when he was so weakened, when the humans were so hateful.

"I would rather you went home," he said, watching his father's hair blow in the wind.

"Why?"

"Could you not sense the hatred of the humans? They will not accept you and her offspring in their midst."

"Are you trying to save my life?"

It was his turn not to answer. His father saw the danger and was still determined to return.

"Why?"

He frowned slightly, and one hand curled into a fist, though he hid it. He was cruel to demand such answers... "I would have you back."

Now his father glanced over his shoulder and held his gaze. "Why?"

He had no answer. What more was there? He wanted him back and he had openly admitted so... What more could he want from him? He had no more dignity to lose in the matter. "Why are you so eager to die for her and her offspring?" he demanded in return, forcing the conversation away from answers he could not give.

A faint, somehow distant smile played on his father's lips. "There is a word you have forgotten, Sesshoumaru. A feeling you might never have experienced... one of those 'pathetic' softer emotions you despise. That is the word for which I am willing to give my life."

He turned fully around, but he looked past him instead of at him, and Sesshoumaru took a small step back to let him pass.

His father paused as he passed, and looked down into his face. "You could have a truly merciful heart," he said, reaching out to touch his cheek in a surprise gesture of affection. Or was it affection? His father was so hard to read... His clawed thumb traced a stripe and bestowed upon him a warm glow of pleasure that he ruthlessly denied, knowing it did not have the deeper connotations he wanted it to have. "Some day, you too will have something to protect."

Though he did not understanding the meaning behind his words, he unthinkingly reached up to take hold of the hand that touched him. He was too late; his fingers barely brushed the warm skin as he pulled away. With a ghostly touch that drifted over the moon on his brow, the final contact was gone.

Then his father followed it, shifting into his great form again and running into the trees, back toward his precious human and the hateful mob that awaited him.

Sesshoumaru watched him until he was gone. Something to protect... He doubted it. There was only one thing he cared for and it had just run off to die.

He did not follow him. It did not even occur to him that he should protect him from the humans; he knew what his father had been pondering when he approached, that made him so distant, and it was the knowledge of his coming death. He had accepted it and chosen to go quietly into its jaws with open eyes, and it was not his selfish son's place to undermine that decision.

He took to the air instead, and though he could not help passing over the human village, he did not linger to interfere or to bear witness. With the smell of smoke in his nostrils, he rose above the clouds and searched out the wandering castle that had been his home for centuries. He chose a vantage point atop a near cloud and watched the play of the moonlight on the pearly structure.

When the great walls began to dissolve into roiling clouds before his eyes, the remains carried away by a shift in the wind, the cold night rang with a long howl of mourning.

~end~

--That is the official end of the Home series. The IABM revamp may actually be in the same 'universe', but I won't call it part of the series. I really really live on reviews - this was written because of them - so I would appreciate any at all, but if you don't have anything to say can't you spare a second for a rating? :) Thank you very much for reading.--
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