Chapter 1
‘I know this isn’t the way things are meant to be.’
The thought echoed in his mind. ‘It is not meant to be like this… I…’
‘I am…’
The thought stopped there. Really who was he really, a demon, a lord, someone with the potential to rule over vast lands with an army of demons unrivaled in the known world, all crying in salutation and praise for… Sesshomaru…. Sesshomaru, all hail the great Lord? He could hear the words, the roar of the crowds pronouncing the all too familiar sound of his name with no less a force than the waves crashing upon the seas coast. He could hear it echoing along no differently in the background of… ‘who am I… am I really…. It is not supposed to be like this.’
‘… it’s not supposed to be like this!’
‘Damn it!’
A wave crashed against a rock, the force was harder this time for the white spray came noticeably closer. His eye caught upon the droplets as they fell and landed on the gray terrain before him. He felt it, even though he were yards away the slightest chill from the droplets as they came soaring through the air sending out waves of cold that vertebrate outwards to meet his skin. The sensation was no different than actual contact, being in such close vicinity. He took a mental note of it, but that was all. Even though such a skill was what made his power truly admirable, it was nothing new to him, since he was born with it.
It was in his makeup, having been born into such a high class and noble family his hearing and sense of smell weren’t the only senses about him that were keen he could also feel out the differences of the world around him, a skill which ran in the family. Every hair on his body was like a tiny antenna, where even the tiniest feeling like a falling droplet of water could send tremors running through him signaling to him that a droplet had fallen. It’s how he was always aware even when asleep, that something was happening or all was calm his body knew it before his mind does, sometimes long before; it’s one of the secrets to his skill, as well as to his power.
Consciously he would be aware of this and every time attribute as much of it to his pride as the mental note accounted for. It now told him that many droplets fad fallen and that they had come closer, much closer. He looked to the horizon.
But there was something else his senses were telling him.
The winds were blowing harder now. The sky has been fully overcast since daybreak, but it wasn’t until an hour ago did he care to notice. The sky was dark, grayish blue with a hint of green, a storm was brewing, and it was Typhoon season. That time of the year, and a single great storm had yet to have its say over the lands of this mortal world.
How strange it felt to realize he was an immortal being in a mortal world, and how alien this recognition made him feel being so far away from where he rightfully belonged, as though he had crossed into a strange foreign land. Though he had walked these paths countless times before, only now did it occur to him how different he truly was, from what lay around him, and from the very trepidation which brought up from his gut, he was a lord, he was superior… he was….
He gritted his teeth. He was… bleeding.
It has been one day since the encounter but his wounds had yet to close on their own. He knew the reason for this, it was shock. Such trauma had its way to affect the body’s functions, and in this case prevented him from healing. He just couldn’t accept it…. How… how did this happen…. When did I become so weak?
Weakness, it had to be…. He was injured and there was n excuse for that. What else could it be?
What else could it have been?
A day ago he came upon this demon, was he just being careless… a demon he had assumed was of no particular threat to him, and yet before he had successfully slew the fool for annoying him, the demon managed to get in one good hit on him.
A common ogre, with its spiked mallet, and he doesn’t know how it really happened but somehow before the beast succumbed to the form of rubble on the grass of the valley where the incent occurred the ogre somehow manage to swing his mallet well enough to have hooked his left shoulder and grazed it with a deep red bruise.
The shock of this drove Sesshomaru to kill this beast with far more power than was clearly necessary. It was only for a instant that he let his anger get the better of him, but it was enough to send the body of that ogre, a creature that was at least ten times his size into bite sized parts… too bad he doesn’t eat ogre, this would have been far too convenient. But he was no such beast, and the scent of the ogre’s blood only disgusted him, so he moved on. Ignoring the dulling pain that nagged from his shoulder as he moved on, however not a moment too soon.
“Sesshomaru!”
Came the familiar voice. It was Inuyasha, and of course it was. Only he would pop out of the woodwork at a time like this… what?
“What did you do with that ogre? Where is it?”
Hm, Sesshomaru thought to himself as he glared back at him, covering his curiosity with his typical mask of ice. What is this idiot babbling about, why would he care about some forgettable ogre? But the demand came again, “Sesshomaru, what did you do with it?”
“I killed it.” Came the obvious response. What else was there to say, the facts were obvious. The blood was in the air and his back was to the valley where the remains lay. What other outcome could be more obvious? He was Inuyasha, his nose had to be as keen to pick up the right messages, he was of the same blood line, just being a damn half-breed couldn’t affect his skills that much could it? Could it?
“Damn you Sesshomaru! I knew it!”
This was confusing and a bit irritating, for who cares about a damn ogre, this boy was starting to annoy him more than usual, when Inuyasha spouted out, “Damn it, I knew I should have came sooner. That Ogre knew something about the demon that attacked our village. I had yet to make it talk. And you killed it!”
Oh, now it makes sense. He wanted information out of it. Hm, oh such a pity, Sesshomaru though then shrugged inwardly while passively turning away, all the while saying the words, “If your village was attracted who’s fault was it that it happened in the first place?” it was all he needed to say.
The ever predictable hanyou came flying. Sword unsheathed and flaring out, “damn you Sesshomaru… that beast almost killed Kagome!” The last syllable of his words fell just as their swords clashed, sending a flash of light out from the impact. The Tenseiga sang in unison with the Tetsuaiga’s searing roar. Of course he drew the Tenseiga, it was not a weapon, and at the moment he cared not to see the Tetsuaiga dissolve into a puddle of molten scrap metal from the power of his prized Bakusaiga. He only intended to block the attack, which he succeeded in doing with relative ease, however... baka.
Sesshomaru was in no mood for this, nor for Inuyasha at this particular moment and made a bold move to send the boy out flying well beyond the line of the trees with hopes that he’ll take the hint and get lost, but of course just as he should have known the last thing he heard was “Wind Scare!” the light from the attack blinded him, yet with his special skills was able to dodge the attack before the blades could cut him, but that wasn’t the end of his brother’s attack. For before he knew it Inuyasha was on top of him, swords clashed in mid air. Again he sent him flying before landing gracefully on his toes upon the soft ground, this time maybe… when his ears picked up, “Adamant Barrage!” Alarm struck him, just as a sudden pain struck through his arm and lower side, a lesser streak from his lower leg and he realized just as he moved that he had been hit. Though he blocked the majority of the greater shards some of the smaller ones and their splinters had pierced him. The shock was more than he could bear, for not only did that lowly creature from before get it hit on him, so did not his little brother, a hanyou. The fact must have been obvious for next he heard, “heh! How you like that! You Bastard!” Naturally it came with a nulling feeling to respond with silence; he would not justify his brother senseless words with as much as a retort. He sneered.
‘That little bastard actually hit me!’ At that instant he was soaring through the air. His body obviously sprang to action before his mind could catch up. And realized once it did that he had run away, he was soaring through the winds.
Knowing full well that he had escaped…. His right hand was clinging to the wound on his upper arm, blood pouring out from between his fingers like little messengers of his misfortune leaving a trail of crimson mockery behind him, not even conscious of the fact that the same was occurring from his abdomen and lower leg… but over all that he was running away… Away. Why, and from what?
He was humiliated, embarrassed beyond belief. Not only did he fail to win the battle and defeat his brother with ease, which he absolutely knew he could do, instead he fled. Fled, as though he had run from a fight… as if he knew fear, no, he knew that wasn’t the reason, it was not fear that drove him away, it was… it was…. what was it? Some form of dreaded apprehension stirred in him, was it from his heart, why did he run away? What was it he was really running from? Once again the words echoed in the depth of his mind… ‘No… it isn’t supposed to be like this…. Who am I?’
Is it THAT HARD TO WRITE A STORY ABOUT A FAST HEDGEHOG!??!?!?!?!?!
