Inuyasha 1. Chapter 1

Unspoken Devotion: Requiem

_I hate and I love. Perhaps you ask why I do so. I do not know, but I feel it, and I am in torment_.

-Catallus, Odes, LXXXV

A/N: Well, this is my first fanfiction. It was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but it just became so long that I've decided to split it up into three chapters. This fanfiction is based off my poem, "Unspoken Devotion," so if you'd like to get a condensed summary of this story feel free to read it. Also, much thanks to Chaos-and-Serenity for all her help on this first chapter!

*** * * * * **

Kagome had never liked smoke. When she went out to dinner she always sat in the non-smoking section, and every time a fire engine went by she was always the first to cover her ears and cringe. In all the years she had cooked not one of her meals had been the least bit overdone, and she would under no circumstance attend an outdoor barbecue. The reality was very simple and clear. Kagome did not like smoke.

_And yet,_ she mused, _here I am_.

Kagome paused in the doorway for only a moment before entering and taking her usual seat in the corner. Heads turned in curiosity as she entered and passed, but quickly turned back upon recognizing a familiar face.

Omoidasu was a legendary bar to its customers for its cheap liquor, unpretentious employees and apathetic clientele. No one here interfered in each other's lives. The people here were known to be just as content sitting quietly and brooding over their own misfortunes.

_And that's the way we like it,_ Kagome thought, looking around sadly. _If we had something to brag about, we'd be doing it in some elaborate place. _A gentleman began to cough violently and his buddies immediately whacked him on the back, laughing. Kagome averted her gaze from the scene and stared at her table. _Not here._

Her gaze seemed hazy and she rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands like a child. It was the atmosphere in this place. The entire bar seemed smoky, but from what she couldn't say. There were no candles adorning the tables and no faulty fireplace to be seen. Kagome held her face in her hands. She really hated smoke.

Briefly, she wondered why she even came here. There were plenty of other establishments in the neighborhood, ones most certainly nicer than this. It wasn't as if she were strapped for cash. That very thought made her chuckle idiotically.

No, it was something more than money, something more than the comfort of monotony. She smiled behind her hands. These people knew her, although they may have never spoken before. They understood her plights and accepted that she didn't need to talk about her trials, but rather muse over them quietly in some forsaken corner. Nearby she heard a glass shatter and a woman release a wretched sob. _I'm just like them_, she admitted sadly. _Just like them._

Suddenly she felt a presence hover over her and her heart leapt into her throat. It had been so long since they had last seen each other, and yet the hope stayed hidden from her, warm and safe in the dark, refusing to fade.

_It couldn't be…_.

Before she truly considered what she was thinking, she ripped her hands away from her face and stared into the waiter's startled brown eyes. Her heart simultaneously rejoiced and fell.

There were so many dissimilarities it was staggering. There were dull brown eyes where piercing golden eyes should be. Instead of a refined silvery mane, there was a crop of messy black hair. Flesh, dark and marred from unforgiving years had replaced smooth, alabaster skin.

"Of course it wouldn't be him," she chastised quietly while looking up at the shocked waiter. "…He'd never be in a place like this."

Her quiet mumbling seemed to shake the waiter out of his daze and after a few seconds of recollection he put a hand on her shoulder. "Miss, are you alright?"

Kagome stiffened at the contact and the young man hurriedly pulled back his hand, muttering apologies. She stared into his disheartening brown eyes and swallowed against the painful lump that had risen in her throat.

"No, it's alright. It's just that I…"She blinked back the tears threatening to fall. "I thought you were someone else."

The young waiter instantly relaxed and his shoulders slumped in relief. "Well, that's a relief," he sighed. "For a moment I thought I had offended you in some way."

Kagome shook her head. "No, no you didn't offend me. I guess I was just…surprised is all."

The young man smiled. "I look a lot different than the one you expected, huh?"

She smiled sadly. "Yes, you do."

There was a brief silence and he absently ran his fingers through his hair. "My name's Shiro by the way."

Kagome remained silent.

Shiro rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Just in case, you know, you need anything. You know who to ask for."

"Oh, okay." Kagome dragged her gaze away. "Thank you."

He chuckled nervously, pulled out a notepad and grabbed the pen behind his ear. "So, what can I get you?"

The easy moment was gone and Kagome wrung her hands beneath the table. "Whiskey."

Shrio wrote down the order and Kagome went to breathe a sigh of relief now that the forced conversation was over. However, she refrained from doing so when she didn't hear his retreating footfalls. She glanced up in confusion and the waiter smiled, his eyes alight with a mixture of anxiety and compassion.

"You know," he began hesitantly, "I'm kind of glad I look different than the person you were waiting for." He smiled sympathetically. "Whoever he is, I think he hurt you real bad."

She was shocked at his declaration and watched him as he turned and hurried off to attend some customers who had just taken their seats. For a moment she wished she had met him earlier, loved him before…

_You are different_, Kagome assured him. _You're quiet and meek and…_She drew in a shuddering breath. _…Human._

She had already accepted that no one would ever be able to compare to him. "He was mine for a moment," she told herself. "That should be enough."

But it wasn't. After all, as he so often liked to remind her, he was irreplaceable.

*** * * * ***

_She curled into his warmth, basking in the sight of him in the moonlight. The sight of his body made her blush and she smiled, one of her bashful smiles that always emerged once they had just made love. He briefly smiled back, one of those rare shows of emotions he reserved only for her._

_He tenderly ran his hand down her side, mindful of his deadly claws. She squirmed as he lightly grazed over a particularly sensitive spot, and she caressed his markings in reprisal. He sucked in his breath and she was delighted to feel him shiver. _

_Nothing like their lovemaking ever made her feel so powerful and she reveled in just how good and how right it felt to be with him. She sighed when he entered her and his first thrust was one of many that sent her soaring over the edge. He paused just long enough to kiss her and she gladly let him in. _

_Their tongues danced and he resumed moving, slow, soft deliberate strokes that caused Kagome to arch her hips impatiently in order to take him deeper. She whined in displeasure when he stilled and ran his silky lips over her collarbone._

"_Oh please," she begged._

_His deep chuckle made her tremble with desire. "Insatiable," he hotly whispered against the skin of her throat._

_She giggled against the pressure in her belly. "I know," she sighed. "I blame you."_

_Suddenly his piercing amber eyes filled her vision and he ran his tongue over her lips. "That is something I do not mind taking credit for."_

_He kissed her again and continued his timely strokes, adding a little more force each time until Kagome was sobbing with pleasure. She hit her high, and as she spiraled back down she felt him stiffen and give himself to her. _

_He pulled out of her, that very sensation exquisite and satisfying, and pulled her to his chest. He rested his chin atop her head and she sighed contently, twirling her hands through his silky hair and wiping the tears from her eyes._

_Kagome was abruptly pulled away from his warmth and he tilted her chin to stare at her. "Why do you do that?"_

_She wrinkled her brow. "Do what?"_

_He sighed in the darkness. "Why do you cry?"_

_Kagome worried her bottom lip at the odd question. "I cry when I get hurt or when I'm sad-"_

_He placed a finger to her lips. "That does not answer my question."_

_She wrapped her hand around his strong wrist and pulled his hand away. "I don't understand."_

_He pulled his arm from her grasp and cupped her face. "Did I hurt you?"_

_She couldn't shake her head. "No," she answered._

"_Do I make you sad?"_

"_No, of course not."_

_He ran a finger down her cheek. "Then your answer does not explain why you shed tears in my presence."_

_Kagome smiled, and even though it was dark she knew he could see it. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled herself close, settling her ear just over his heartbeat. "You make me happy."_

_There was a long pause. "Humans cry when they are happy?"_

_She nodded against his chest. "Yeah, sometimes."_

_He snorted. "Ridiculous."_

_Kagome sat up and poked him. "Oh, really? And just what is so ridiculous about it?"_

_He captured her finger with little effort. "It is a waste of precious energy. Besides," He kissed her fingertip lightly. "I can think of a much better way to exert myself."_

_She hovered over him and kissed him deeply. When she pulled away he tried to follow. "Now who's the insatiable one?" she asked._

_He grasped the back of her neck and pulled her down to him. "I blame you," he whispered huskily._

_She reached beneath the blankets and found him, thrilled when he released a strangled gasp. "That's something I don't mind taking credit for." _

_He suddenly reached out and stopped her movements and she looked down at him, surprised. "What's the matter? Did I do something wrong?"_

_He shook his head and sat up so they were face to face. "Why are you here, Kagome?"_

_She looked at him hesitantly. "What do you mean?"_

_He sighed and reached for her hand, laying it against his heart. "I want to know why you are here…with me."_

_Kagome moved closer. "Do I need a reason?"_

_He looked away and she could feel him sigh. "No..."_

_She cocked her head and could sense his tension even without touching him. "…But you do," she finished, and when he refused to look her in the eyes she knew she was right. She brought her hand to his face and cupped his cheek, turning his head to face her. "I'm here because I want to be. I love you."_

_And that was enough. He closed the distance between them and kissed her softly, the most honest and loving kiss she had ever received since…._

_She winced inwardly at the memory threatening to surface, and instead concentrated on the feel of his lips against hers. When he broke the kiss she opened her eyes and stared at him, focusing on his regal markings and inhuman amber eyes. The realization that he chose to be here with her was staggering, and as she stared the hated memory slowly sank under the weight of that very revelation._

_Kagome suddenly smiled under his intense gaze, the first facial movement either of them had made since the kiss. When he raised one eyebrow in response she was pleased to know she still possessed the ability to catch him unaware. _

"_What," she asked innocently, "did you think I was here only for the sex?"_

_He grinned, a deadly fang protruding from his lip. "It is plausible."_

_She opened her mouth and slapped him lightly, but he easily deflected her blow. Before she could blink he had her pinned beneath him. They were nearly nose to nose._

_She arched teasingly against him and smiled when he closed his eyes in bliss. She cried in delight when he moved against her, letting her feel his desire._

_She gasped for breath. "You really are too much. You know that right?"_

_He leaned down and licked the tip of her nose. "Priestess, I am one of a kind."_

_She smiled and met him for a kiss. "I know…"_

*** * * * ***

The memory was both beautiful and heartbreaking.

In the beginning Kagome wanted nothing more than to be rid of the accursed memories. She even went so far as to invite a man she had known for the better part of a week into her home with promises of more 'intimate relations.' She had reasoned that new memories would replace her old ones, so she resolved herself to create new memories.

But when Kagome saw him standing in her bedroom with his short, brown hair and hazel eyes she had burst into tears and locked herself in the bathroom. The perplexed gentleman had left shortly after, and Kagome could honestly say she wasn't sorry for his early departure.

For the next few weeks she had deeply contemplated her lapse in control. She wanted him gone, didn't she? In spite of everything she had done, all that she had given he had left her!

That vain bastard had left her for a woman whose beauty and reputation were nothing short of legendary.

_She'll never truly know him_, Kagome had thought. _And she'll never love him like I do._

He was a selfish, arrogant, insensitive dog and she damned him for all the pain he caused her. But she damned herself too, because she still loved him, and a small part of her realized that that would never change.

So, she allowed herself to keep her memories and mull over them in the dark. She would take them out and examine them, roll them in her hands and take in every single detail from the number of strokes it took him to brush his hair to how many times she had made him smile. And when she tucked them safely away she would cry.

Kagome kept her memories, because that was all she had of him now…

Quite abruptly the sounds of the bar became more distinct and once again she was back in the corner waiting for her salvation to be brought. Without him life was so predictable and, oh, so empty.

_How many times did he smile that day_? Kagome asked herself before she leaned on the table, buried her head in her arms and cried.

*** * * * ***

Shiro watched as the young woman in the corner began to cry and he made a quick decision. He placed the glass he had been cleaning on a vacant table and took a step forward, fully intent on going over to the distraught lady and consoling her any way he could.

But, for a split second he stopped and glanced warily back at his task, wincing as the rational side of him reared its logical head. _Are you really considering risking your job for some woman who clearly wants nothing to do with you?_

Shiro placed his foot down and inched backward as the age-old question emerged: Was morality more important than a place to live or food in your belly?

He hastily glanced at the woman. _Yes_, he acknowledged after a moment. _It was_.

He put more determination in his steps, but he barely made it two more before he was stopped by a heavy hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Hito, his boss, and Shiro tensed; waiting for the reprimanding he was sure was to come.

However, the intimidating man merely shook his head sadly. "Let her be."

Shiro opened his mouth and closed it, willing himself to find his voice. "Sir?"

Hito gestured to Kagome. "I said, let her be."

Shiro turned his head to Kagome and then quickly looked back to his employer. "B-but sir, she's-"

"She's sad," Hito finished and then shrugged. "So is everyone else here. We just express it in different ways."

He pulled up a chair and grabbed the dirty glass Shiro had failed to finish cleaning. "Come, boy. Have a drink with me."

Shiro looked down at the floor, embarrassed. "I don't drink, sir."

Hito laughed heartily. "Then you've picked one hell of a job, son."

Shiro scowled and sat down opposite Hito. "I just need the money."

"Yeah, you and every other employee here." Hito breathed on the glass and wiped at the smudges. "Everyone's here for something."

Shiro glanced up. "Like what?"

"Money, booze, companionship." Hito looked up shrewdly. "Or maybe just a place to cry."

Shiro risked a quick look back to the corner. "Why is she so sad?"

Hito pulled out a flask, filled up the glass and took a lengthy swig. "Who knows?"

"Hasn't anyone every asked her?"

"Look, kid, I'm a bartender, not a psychiatrist." Hito leaned forward. "And that's the way these people want it."

Shiro furrowed his brow and Hito sighed. "Don't you think if these people wanted help they'd go see a shrink?"

"I suppose."

Hito shook his head. "No, don't guess. I want you to figure this out for yourself. I'm not the one that needs convincing. Why do you think people come here?"

Shiro glanced around at all the customers. "To be alone."

Hito grinned. "Partly." He poured himself another drink. "You ever hear the saying, 'misery loves company?'"

Shiro nodded. Hito raised his glass in a toast and downed the liquor. "Well, so does loneliness."

Shiro mulled over the answer and furrowed his brow. "I'm afraid I don't understand, sir."

Hito emptied the remaining contents of his flask into the glass. "Shiro, never forget that loneliness is just as contagious as a virus, and always twice as deadly." He gestured quickly at Kagome with the empty flask. "I couldn't imagine what a nice girl like that wanted when she first came here. I almost turned her away too, but, it was obvious that she had been hurt badly." Hito paused and took another lengthy swig. "I suppose I didn't have the heart to deny her the only respite from her pain that she was able to find." He glanced up at Shiro with a regretful gaze. "I now know I made a mistake by pitying her."

Shiro glanced back at Kagome. "A mistake, sir?"

Hito pinched the bridge of his nose. "She never used to be like this, you know. I even remember a time when she still smiled. But, the atmosphere here…it does something to you. You breath it in, it's in the food you eat, the liquor you drink, it seeps into your pores until your sorrow is the only thing you know. And only this," he said, holding up his half-full glass, "can take the pain away."

"But, can they not find the same thing in their own homes?" Shiro asked. "Why do they continue to come here?" He lowered his voice. "Why does she?"

"There are no ringing phones here," Hito answered quietly. "No prying eyes from curious neighbors, no friends banging on your door to talk it over." He raised his glass to his lips. "There is only this, and this is enough."

He placed the glass roughly on the table and rubbed his face. "I don't know. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't be better to let the place go to hell, to try and dissuade these people from drinking their lives away." He let out a raspy laugh. "But I suppose they'd find a new place to drown themselves, so the least I can offer them is the comfort of familiarity."

Shiro leaned forward until his stomach was pressed painfully against the table, and his eyes held a sanguine determination. "This can't be all that's left. There has to be more than this," he whispered.

Hito glanced at him with glassy eyes and shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid there is only what you're willing to accept."

Shiro's face fell and Hito drained the remainder of his glass. "I can't really say I'd be sorry to see this place go out of business. But, I doubt that'll happen anytime soon." He gestured around the room. "This, whether we like it or not, is life."

He stood up quickly, placed his flask back in his pocket and walked behind the counter. Shiro followed him curiously.

"Everyone has a story, Shiro," he said as he rummaged through the shelves. Finally, he placed a tray with a shot glass and a bottle of whiskey before the young waiter. "It only depends on whether or not they're willing to share it."

Hito slid the tray towards Shiro and he grasped it with sweaty hands. "Now, why don't you go bring that young lady her drink?"

*** * * * ***

Kagome started when her table slightly rattled and she looked up to see the tired eyes of Shiro. Her heart broke a little at his weary expression and she stifled back a sob of compassion.

_This place is already taking its toll on him._

He smiled, although it didn't seem to shine as it had earlier and placed her order on the table, filling her glass to the brim. She reached unsteadily and grabbed her drink, leaving little droplets as she pulled it to her and finished it in one gulp.

The taste was bitter, but so was she, so it really didn't matter.

When the pain in her throat lessened to a dull throb she looked back up at Shiro and blushed when he raised his eyebrows. He merely chuckled lightly and refilled her glass.

For a moment he opened his mouth and Kagome became rigid, fearful of his questions and his reminiscent innocence. But Shiro closed it just as quickly and a silent understanding passed between the two.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He smiled and patted her hand. "Don't mention it."

Kagome closed her eyes and clutched her drink tightly. When she opened them he was gone and she could have cried. He had left the bottle.

*** * * * ***

When he was young, the world was simple.

Men toiled the earth, multiplied and died. And as their bodies turned to ash beneath his feet, demons all over the land bowed before him in respect of his unparalleled power. And those who refused did not live to repeat their transgressions.

He reclined back in his chair and languidly closed his eyes, disregarding the voice of the stocky gentleman in the bad suit managing the imperative business contract.

So, it had come to this. The demon king, revered Lord of the West had become no more than a common president of a nonetheless prominent corporation.

Of course his business was renowned throughout the world for the numerous high-tech electronics they produced. The defining moment had been when his contacts had subtly suggested that he dabble in the gaming industry. Although he had never really understood the purpose with electronic gaming he did realize that humans were generally cowards and would therefore revel in the virtual success.

So after a brief consideration he had acquiesced, and just as he suspected, electronic gaming became a phenomenon. Subsequently, the associates who had initially disagreed with his pioneering decision became more than pleased when profits began to run like water.

"Mr. Taisho, are you listening?"

Drawn from his musings he cracked one eye open and glared at the pudgy mediator who had been hired and sent on short notice by one of his many secretaries. The human was fast-talking and fidgety, and although he had a real name he preferred his clients to simply refer to him as Mr. Kosho. The alias was quite befitting.

"I am," he firmly assured, and when the whelp seemed satisfied and resumed talking, he once again drowned him out.

Despite his success in the human world there were countless numbers of executives in charge of large businesses around the world, and he refused to be nothing more recognizable than a drop of water in the ocean. After all, there was and would be only one Lord of the Western Lands, and as he contemplated the direction his life was currently taking the truth became agonizingly obvious.

He was drowning in a filthy ocean of humanity.

The memory of a gap-toothed smile, spontaneous songs of praise and wildflowers flashed before his eyes and his heart briefly clenched. Regret was something he was not accustomed to, but the more time he spent masquerading as a human the more he seemed to adopt their annoying traits.

She had been his ward, a daughter born not of blood but of honor. And after all these centuries since she had passed beyond Tenseiga's reach, he still felt as if the countless journeys made together in comfortable silence were opportunities lost.

Ever since her passing he had dwelled in a desolate silence, secretly wondering if it would have really hurt him to talk with her, answer her questions and try to know her more. Because once she was gone he had realized just how silent the world was without her.

Sesshoumaru allowed his posture to slip and leaned his elbow on the chair, resting his face in his palm. The position was unbefitting, and those who had known him would have gawked at the weary mood it so openly indicated.

It had taken him many years and a great deal of pride to realize that the changes he had incurred were due mostly to Rin's influence and passing. Unsettled at what this knowledge could mean, he had resolved himself to wait patiently, certain that if something as rare as an open-minded girl could change him, something as common as time could easily change the base principles of existence.

But he was pleased, if not relieved to note that many facets of life were still constant, in spite of the unforeseen transformations he had underwent. Those of lesser stature still groveled at his feet for mercy and power, and his sights were continuously filled with the familiar display of women who flocked to warm his bed.

It was almost strangely satisfying to witness that much still remained unchanged from the Feudal Era. But, despite the familiarity that he encountered, there had still been plenty unusual things to see and hear throughout the centuries. However, none of it had been worthy of his attention.

Until she had happened upon him, that is…

"Mr. Taisho?"

He clenched his jaw and glanced up, imagining Mr. Kosho's head rolling across the finely carpeted floor. The stout man seemed to read his thoughts and audibly gulped under his stare.

"Mr. Yamamoto has requested that he be reimbursed for the improvements he has made to the building over the years. Is that agreeable?"

Sesshoumaru glanced at the elderly gentleman. Mr. Yamamoto was to be the former owner of a historical museum located in the center of Tokyo. It housed and displayed everything that was important to Japan's rich history and in its early days the museum was quite a crowd pleaser. Unfortunately for Mr. Yamamoto, the country's later generations held no interest in their homeland's heritage and as profits declined costs steadily increased.

He watched as the old man shuddered under his steady gaze. It wasn't as if he harbored any ill will toward the old man. In fact, he had donated quite a few items that were currently on display in the museum. To him, it just seemed illogical to waste such a good space.

He glanced back at the mediator. "The proposition is acceptable."

Mr. Kosho beamed. "Wonderful," he exclaimed. "Well, gentlemen, in that case the only order of business left is to finalize the contract."

Mr. Kosho shuffled through a stack of folders, pulled out a stapled pile and placed them in front of Mr. Yamamoto. "Now, Mr. Yamamoto, if you'll just sign here," and he indicated a dotted line with his pen.

Reluctantly, Mr. Yamamoto took the pen from Mr. Kosho and placed the tip on the paper. For a moment he just let the pen rest there, and a heavy tension thickened the air.

Mr. Kosho cleared his throat. "Just sign right there, Mr. Yamamoto," he repeated, frustration now evident in his voice. "I'm sure everyone has other affairs that need tending."

Mr. Yamamoto nodded numbly and almost everyone watched with baited breath as the old man's hand shook violently with every intricate symbol he drew down. For a split second the scent of regret was so stifling that Sesshoumaru couldn't breathe, but finally the old man finished the last elaborate sign and Mr. Kosho slid the paper over to him.

"Alright, Mr. Taisho, I'll just need your signature right here, below Mr. Yamamoto's."

Sesshoumaru took the pen from the mediator, careful not to touch him and began to sign his name. But suddenly, Mr. Yamamoto's grandson, whom he so much hadn't even glanced at, stood up and placed his hand upon the contract, preventing him from finishing his signature.

"Wait," the boy breathed.

Everyone but Sesshoumaru looked up at the old man's grandson. He stared at the offending appendage, keeping the pen positioned on the character he had yet to complete. "Remove your hand, boy."

He watched the boy's hand tense, but he didn't detach it from the paper and the tangy scent of fear filled the room. He listened as the boy audibly gulped. "…Please, Mr. Taisho-"

"Shonen," Mr. Kosho abruptly said, "this is unprofessional! The deal is already done. You're grandfather, as the legal owner of the museum has approved all the specifications and disbursement issues. Frankly, my boy, you have no say in the matter whatsoever."

Sesshoumaru held up a hand, instantly silencing the interfering fool. The whelp had overstepped his boundaries, and even though what the boy said would not change his mind he had decided to hear the boy's piece, if only for the sake of annoying Mr. Kosho. It was childish, but this entire affair had been nothing but tedious. So, for the first time he looked at the boy known as Shonen.

"Speak."

Shonen seemed taken aback at his forwardness, but he blinked only once before slowly sitting down, fully recovering from his surprise. He placed his hands underneath the table, leaving the contract completely exposed.

"Mr. Taisho," he began quietly. "Do you realize that this museum has been in our family for over eleven decades?"

Sesshoumaru gave a curt nod. "I am well aware of the museum's history."

Shonen leaned forward earnestly. "Then you must also be aware that by purchasing the museum and converting it into one of your outlets, you will single-handedly be responsible for the abolishment of countless small businesses in the vicinity."

Sesshoumaru resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the obvious observation. "That is of no consequence."

Shonen's eyes widened at the unexpected answer and he forgot all formality. "You can't be serious."

His eyes narrowed. "I am quite serious."

Shonen stood and slammed his hands on the table. "My grandfather is a good man! What right do you have to take away everything he's worked for?"

Sesshoumaru rose from his own seat so violently the leather chair flew into the wall behind him. "Do not presume to give me a lecture, boy," he snarled. "We are not here to discuss your grandfather's honor. We are here because of your grandfather's capability as a businessman…an ability he regrettably does not possess."

The boy bared his blunt human teeth. "How dare you?"

He dug his claws into the table so hard the wood splintered. "You may criticize me and my conduct when you acquire the finances necessary to purchase your museum back. Until that time your grandfather will be able to retire and live quite comfortably." He grabbed the pen and roughly finished his name. When he glanced back up his eyes seemed to glow. "You should be grateful."

"Grateful?" The boy let out a condescending laugh. "Grateful that you're blatantly taking away a piece of my family's past?"

Sesshoumaru rectified his chair and sat down, hoping for the boy's best interest that he remain quiet before he really lost control. "I have no interest in your past," he sneered. "I merely act when an opportunity arises."

Shonen's face flushed and perhaps the grandfather sensed his control teetering on the edge because he clutched his grandson's arm and shook his head sadly. "What's done is done, Shonen."

"But, but grandpa…"

Mr. Yamamoto weakly got to his feet. "He's right, Shonen. Neither you nor I have the funds necessary to support this business." He glanced wearily at Sesshoumaru. "He's merely acting in his best interest. There's nothing more we can do."

Resignedly, Shonen hung his head and remained silent. Mr. Kosho, who had been standing quietly behind his chair during the whole dispute, abruptly let loose a winded sigh.

"Well, I'm glad this is resolved," he exclaimed with false optimism. Placing his hands on the backs of Mr. Yamamoto and his grandson, Mr. Kosho quickly ushered them out of the office while explaining future proceedings in a tone that was much too high.

Dispassionately, Sesshoumaru watched them leave and briefly wondered if the boy had any idea how lucky he was to leave that room with his life intact. Sighing, he reached for his much needed drink, which had remained untouched since the beginning of the meeting. He brought the glass to his lips and allowed the hot liquid to run down his throat, his mind straying to _her_ once again.

He had indulged in liquor rarely those days, finding the effort to be worthless since he required an extraordinary amount of alcohol to achieve even some semblance of a high. In a way it was strange, for if it had been otherwise, they most likely would have never met, since he had never known _her _to be much of a drinker.

She had come across him doing something so common, so sickeningly ordinary that it almost shamed him to admit that he had sunk so low as to be ensnared by such a widespread human habit.

He had been buying cigarettes.

Of course, smoking could no more hurt him any more than excessive drinking could. But, just like drinking, he had merely become accustomed to the taste. And like both these habits, he had grown accustomed to the mundane routines that came with being a demon lord that had, however reluctantly, become humanized.

But somehow, she had managed to erase what the centuries had done in the span of just one conversation.

*** * * * ***

_To say he was surprised when someone lightly tapped him on the arm would be an understatement. No one, not even his closest colleagues ever dared make any physical contact with him. A scent, strangely familiar in its sweetness teased his senses as he turned to tell the wretch to keep their filthy hands to themselves. But when the offender came into view his insults died on his tongue, and for the first time in centuries, Sesshoumaru was speechless._

_The girl, a woman now, smiled sweetly. "I…I thought it was you."_

_He quickly regained his composure and slowly edged away from her probing hand, narrowing his eyes. "Indeed…priestess."_

_She nodded enthusiastically at his statement. "Yeah, that's right! I was in the back of the store when I felt, God, when I felt this…this energy, this power and somehow I just remembered it. When I came up front and saw you, well, the back of you anyway, I was all but positive it was you!"_

_She laughed giddily and he winced inwardly at her show of happiness. It seemed like forever since someone had been truly happy around him, but he angrily pushed that sentimental thought aside, glaring down at the woman who had once traveled with his half-brother. _

"_Your powers appear to have improved since the last time we met. As I recall, you were barely able to sense my presence until I was breathing right down the back of your neck."_

_Her cheeks flushed heatedly and she scowled at him. For a moment he wanted to laugh that this mere slip of a woman dared challenge him when no one else would ever think to do such a thing. It was, dare he say, refreshing._

"_First off," she began, raising one index finger as if to waggle it in his face, "at the risk of ruining my good mood, I'm just going to take that as a compliment. A very poor attempt at one, mind you, but a compliment just the same. Second, it's gotten pretty easy to sense demonic auras since there aren't that many around anymore." She placed her raised finger to her lip. "Actually, you're the first one I've run into in…well, it feels like forever."_

_She was right, he knew, but he'd be damned before he admitted it. Instead he raised one eyebrow and gave her his infamous, stoic glare. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe your abilities are just too weak to discern even those of lesser power?"_

_Amazingly, she rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. "I can see time has done little for your character. You're as arrogant as ever." _

_He was taken aback by her candid disrespect, his surprise allowing his baser instincts to briefly take control. He growled darkly, the sound so low he wasn't sure she heard until she huffed in annoyance. Her unexpected response to his primal warning seemed to snap him out of his angry stupor. _

"_Say or articulate whatever you want, but you know I'm right. Besides," she said, waving her hand like she was deterring some insect, "I knew from the start you wouldn't agree with me."_

_It upset him that his actions were so predictable, and he was just about to retort when the clerk cleared his throat. He directed his gaze on the cashier and the man smiled nervously. "Your cigarettes, sir."_

_He gritted his teeth at how easily this woman was able to distract him and reached for his wallet. Even as an adult her behavior was nothing short of atrocious!_

"_You're buying cigarettes?"_

_He snorted at her question and put the money on the counter. "Your powers of observation serve you well."_

_Surprisingly, she ignored his comment. "It's not that, it's just that, well…it's a bad habit."_

_He scooped up his change and put the pack of cigarettes in his breast pocket. "Indeed."_

_She made an annoyed sound in the back of her throat. "Look, it's just that I never expected you of all people to take up smoking!"_

_He tried to ignore the shrill tone her voice had taken and walked past her, toward the door. "I am a demon. It cannot harm me."_

_She groaned in annoyance. "I figured that. It's just that you always seemed to be a, well, like a health nut. You don't seem the type to sit in front of the TV eating potato chips and bonbons."_

_He turned from opening the door just long enough to look back at her, an angry scowl marring his perfect face. "I assure you, woman, I do no such thing." _

_He left the store without looking back, but nearly groaned aloud when he heard her approaching footsteps. For a moment he considered risking exposure by leaping to the top of the tallest building or forming his energy cloud and simply flying away, if only to get away from the persistent pest at his heels. While considering his options and the consequences of said options he heard her cry out, "I never said you did! It was just an example!"_

_Her frenzied footsteps sounded closer behind him, and he abruptly stopped and turned, listening as she stumbled in order to keep from running into him. "Allow me to make one thing clear," he began, talking slowly to her as you would a child. "I am in my prime. No drug can harm me, no alcohol can intoxicate me. I am a perfectly, healthy demon."_

"_But that's just it!" she exclaimed exasperatedly. "Why would a perfectly healthy demon want to smoke…?"_

*** * * * ***

"Mr. Taisho?"

Still in the haze of the memory, he lazily cracked one eye open and glared at the ornate door, mentally commanding the interloper to leave him be. But when the person called for him again and softly knocked with obviously feminine knuckles, he pushed the memory away with a sigh and allowed his wistful stare to fade, making his features once more impassive.

"Enter," he said authoritatively.

For a moment there was only silence, and then the heavy wooden door slowly opened just enough that the mystery woman could fit her head through. Sesshoumaru studied her wordlessly, duly noting that she was a pretty little thing with fair skin, dark red hair and doe-like green eyes. He smirked when she blushed under his scrutiny and self-consciously pushed back a stray lock of hair with a slender hand.

"M-Mr. Taisho?" she repeated unsurely, and he nodded, confirming his identity. When she remained concealed behind the door he beckoned her inside with a gesture of his hand, enjoying the startled look on her face at his request. As she slipped inside he told himself that he could have very well had her relay whatever message she had while she was hidden behind the door. He could have, yes, but he wanted to see the rest of her.

_Such a tiny thing_, he marveled as she stood before him, blushing steadily every second that passed. She really was much too thin, he decided after a moment, but he couldn't deny that her unique appearance and coy attitude were attractive. Feeling his body react at the thought, he hastily positioned himself so that his lower half was hidden by the mahogany table.

"I do not believe I have seen you before," he said, feeling compelled to start the conversation when she remained motionless, her heart pounding and her eyes transfixed solely on him.

His voice seemed to shake her out of her stupor and she flushed hotly, clutching her folders tightly to her breast and bowing fervently. "I apologize, Mr. Taisho," she said quickly, timidly maintaining her stooped position. "I don't know what came over me. I…"

She stopped, uncertain how to continue, and he let a small smile grace his face, pleased with her submissive behavior. They were always much easier to persuade when blinded by their innocence.

"It is quite alright," he assured her, chuckling when she didn't rise the instant she had his pardon. "Please, do stand. Although your hair is quite lovely, I would much rather address that pretty face of yours."

She straightened quickly, the sheer force of her reposition sending her hair tumbling all over. But she was much too embarrassed by his compliment to pay it any notice, and for that he was grateful. She looked quite alluring with her tousled hair; like a fiery siren waiting for her lover.

As if she could sense his thoughts she blushed harder, placing a slender hand against her flaming cheek. His grin widened at her reaction. It really had been much too long since the last time.

Her embarrassment seemed to fade with his silence, and she placed her hand back at her side, lessened her terrible grip on her folders and stared back at him resolutely. "Mr. Taisho," she began confidently. "I just received a message from--"

"You are American, are you not?" he interrupted suddenly.

She stammered, clearly perplexed by the relevance of his question before deciding to answer. "Yes," she answered softly. "I am."

He leaned forward, exhibiting his interest. "You are here on an internship then?"

"Well, no," she replied. "I'm studying abroad. This job is just to earn some extra money."

"Indeed?" he said, feigning curiosity. "What is your major?"

She furrowed her eyebrows and took a collective step backward. "Why?" she asked uneasily.

He shrugged indifferently. "I am curious."

She visibly relaxed at his reasonable response, but he could still sense her inner turmoil. He prepared to reassure her of his intentions, but drew in a sharp breath when she worried her lower lip and then flicked out her pink tongue to soothe the abused flesh.

"Do forgive me for my intrusive inquiry, Miss…?" He prompted she reveal her name; once she told him her name he knew there would be no escape for her. No one had ever turned him down once introductions were finished.

She glanced away from his hypnotic stare and Sesshoumaru watched with satisfaction as a small smile gradually curved her mouth. When she directed her gaze back to him and he saw the trust in her eyes, he knew he had her.

"Whitney. My name's Rebecca Whitney."

"Miss Whitney," he finished, her name sounding amiss on his tongue despite his knowledge of the language. "I apologize for any alarm I may have caused you. I merely try and make it a habit to know all my employees." He flashed her a brilliant smile, pleased when he saw her body tremble. "I certainly meant no harm."

"No!" she instantly denied. "No, I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn't have been so quick to judge. It's just the safety freak in me." She smiled demurely. "I suppose being in a different country does that to you."

Sesshoumaru disregarded her apology with a wave of his hand. "Nonsense. It was unprofessional of me to interrogate you so."

He stood leisurely, intentionally allowing her to see the way his suit clung to his muscles, accentuating his narrow waist and powerful thighs. Her accelerated heartbeat told him he had succeeded. "I would be most grateful if you would accept my apology."

She tore her eyes away from his body and stared at him drowsily. "A-Alright," she breathed.

He inclined his head to show her he was pleased with her choice and began to approach her slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. She sucked in her breath at his advancement and he tried to calm her with more words. "You are quite beautiful. Do you know that?"

"T-Thank you, sir" she sputtered, flinching when he came to stand before her as if she hadn't noticed his leisurely approach. She blinked rapidly and turned her head when he seized a handful of her hair, inadvertently exposing her slender neck to him. Smiling at her bashfulness, he watched interestedly as her hair sifted through his fingers.

Her submission was intoxicating, and if his inner demon had been willing, he just might have taken her right there on the floor. But lucky or unlucky for her, the stubborn creature had remained hidden in the dark, averse to partaking in any carnal pleasures ever since…

Sesshoumaru cast the thought from his mind, concentrating on the feel of her body trembling under his hands, and the faint, sweet scent of her arousal. He supposed this was what he loved most about these dire moments; drawing out the sexual tension and fanning the fire until the innocent woman came crawling to him, begging for his love.

Without warning she jerked away from his ministrations and stumbled backward, pressing her small frame against the hulking door and trembling like a cornered animal. "I'm sorry," she gasped after regaining some composure. "I'm sorry, but I can't do this. I…I think I should go."

Sesshoumaru shrugged indifferently as she began to fumble with the door handle and turned away, sitting comfortably back in his leather chair. "Do as you wish."

She glanced back at him incredulously. "W-What did you say?"

Unperturbed, he poured himself another drink and took a delicate sip before answering her. "I said, Miss Whitney, do as you wish."

Her hand slid from the metal knob and came to rest at her side, while the folders she had been holding so securely fell unforgotten to the floor. The papers inside spilled out, a few fluttering daintily to the floor like leaves in autumn. "But, I…I don't understand."

"What is there to understand, Miss Whitney?" he chuckled. "I am not so callous as to hold a woman here against her will. If you wish to leave, then by all means do."

Sesshoumaru watched intently as she worried her lip. "You're…you're not angry with me?" she asked incredulously.

"Miss Whitney," he assured, "I do not know what some of the staff may have said about me, but I am not the type to anger easily." He finished his drink in one swallow and began pouring himself another. "I would most certainly not hold a grudge just because my attentions are rejected."

"Oh no!" she cried while taking an involuntary step forward. "No, you weren't rejected at all! It's just that…"

"Yes?" he pressed.

Her cheeks heated and she hung her head quickly, letting her curtain of hair hide the evidence of her embarrassment. "I'm just not…well, use to this sort of thing is all."

"You are unaccustomed to being wanted?" he guessed, silently drifting to stand before her while she was unaware. Leaning down, he whispered sensually into the shell of her ear, "Would you like to know how it feels to be wanted by a man?"

She jumped, surprised by his sudden proximity and began to inch away from his imposing form. He caught her chin before she could get away and tilted her head so she was staring into his eyes. "Relax," he murmured, bringing his lips closer to hers. "You do not have to be afraid of me."

Her eyes became pleasingly unfocused as he leaned closer, and she blinked rapidly to try and clear her head. It wasn't until he felt her little puffs of breath on his lips that she seemed to regain a small part of her clarity. "I…I think…"

Before she could find the will to protest his lips closed over hers in the lightest of kisses, destroying what little remained of her resolve. For one tense moment she was impervious, but when he felt her tentatively return the kiss he became more passionate, hungrily devouring her mouth until she was gasping for breath.

Giving her what she needed, Sesshoumaru pulled away, the brief dejected glint in his eyes the only sign that the elusive _thing _he was searching for had not yet been found.

_It was inevitable_, he reasoned, swallowing the disappointment rising in his throat. This woman, so submissive and demure, was the complete opposite of _her_. He knew he could never hope to find that meaningful spark in someone so different.

But he still could use her body; bury his misery in her soft depths until, if only for one second, he could forget the tint of _her_ hair or the sound of _her_ voice.

Sesshoumaru glanced down at the woman, still dazed from only the barest of his kisses. Smirking, he leaned down and placed his hands lightly on her shoulders, enjoying the way her body stiffened and then trembled in delight.

"Now," he whispered while brushing his silky lips against her cheek. "What was it you wanted to tell me?"

"Mmmmm…you have—oh!" she gasped, shivering when his hand lightly grazed over her breast. He smirked into the crook of her neck, lazily continuing with his fevered exploration. "You have a…a message." she breathed huskily.

He traced the contours of her stomach slowly, gently caressing her knee before journeying up the inside of her thigh. "A message?" he repeated indifferently, enjoying the feel of her muscles trembling under his hand. "From who?"

He felt her throat convulse from trying to form the words, but not until his hand skimmed lightly over her panties did she find her voice. "It was…A-Akira!" she gasped frenziedly.

Abruptly Sesshoumaru withdrew his hand and pulled away from her, instantly missing the warm contact. But the mere thought of his parasitic "friend" was enough to extinguish any sexual intentions he might've had. "Ah, yes," he murmured dryly. "Yes, my old…friend, Akira."

Sesshoumaru hadn't seen Akira in months, which really wasn't very surprising. The apathetic man only turned up when a beneficial deal was made so he could have a self-respectful reason to party. Somehow, he had learned of Sesshoumaru's upcoming transaction and planned an extensive festivity to celebrate. Although the deal did not involve Akira in the least, it was imperative that Sesshoumaru attend, if only to maintain relations with the other executives sure to be there.

"Is everything alright?"

He finished his drink in one swallow and glanced back at her, a tired smile faltering across his lips at her question. Her entire body was flushed, but not from embarrassment anymore. There was a fire in her blood, a deep burning that he had ignited; she wanted him badly, but only because she believed he wanted her as well.

Sesshoumaru turned away; slightly ashamed of the innocence he had so ruthlessly broken. "I am afraid not," he replied while grabbing his jacket. "Do forgive my rude behavior, Miss Whitney, but as much as I would like to continue our little rendezvous, more pressing matters have been brought to my attention. I have no other alternative but to leave immediately."

"I see," she said, her tone quiet and dejected. "Did…did I do something wrong?"

The strangely familiar words echoed in his mind and ran their bitter fingers up his spine until his insides turned to ice. An involuntary part of him sought out the painstakingly buried memory and stumbled upon a vague image of a woman-child with blue eyes and raven hair. But he hurriedly pushed the resurrected memory aside before her features became any clearer.

"_No, no,"_ he thought. There was danger there, in those supposed forsaken memories of a past not so long ago. If he began to remember the words she had spoken or the way she had looked, then he would just lose more of himself to her memory.

The woman's quiet breathing brought him out of his reverie, and he quickly resumed putting on his jacket while trying to remain indifferent about the situation. "Do not be foolish," Sesshoumaru retorted, sounding much harsher than he had intended.

She inhaled sharply at his curtness, and the scent of her distress became distinctly overwhelming in the secured room. Sesshoumaru sighed wearily at her fragility and ran a nimble hand through his long hair.

"I apologize for my rudeness," he said stiffly. "It has been a long day, and this business with Akira has only served to lengthen it further. These old bones grow weary." He forced a thin smile. "I do hope you will not hold it against me."

"No, of course not," she said, smiling kindly. "It's just…there I go jumping to conclusions again. Don't worry about it." She laughed nervously and bent to pick up her scattered papers, changing back into the respectable secretary that she was. "I'll have this mess cleaned up and all necessary papers on your desk by tomorrow morning, Mr. Taisho."

"Of that I have no doubt," Sesshoumaru replied. He strode past her without so much as a glance, but when he was halfway out the door he looked back at her stooped form. "Oh, and Miss Whitney…"

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Yes, sir?"

His eyes glittered. "I may have some…filing that needs work at my home. I trust you would you be up to the task?"

"I…I suppose so, sir." she replied.

He nodded. "Tonight, then."

"Tonight?" She wheeled around, some of the recovered papers flying from her grasp. "Oh, sir, I don't know if I can do that! I mean, there's paperwork that needs to be done here, not to mention re-filing all these papers back into their proper context, plus—"

"Tonight," he repeated, leaving no room for argument. "I will have one of my chauffeurs come get you, and then you may help me with these filing 'problems' I seem to be having."

For a moment it looked as if she was about to protest, but her desire to please and her naivety overrode her rationale and she finally nodded, blushing hotly. "Alright then," she murmured. "Tonight."

"Tonight." Sesshoumaru inclined his head at her acquiescence and let the door close, never letting her see the slight downturn of his mouth or the brief glint of disappointment flickering in his eyes. He knew the lovemaking would be meaningless and the passion would be untrue. But the familiar charade would all be worth it, if only he could find a moment's solace in the words she would whisper or the tender caresses she would make.

If only he could forget the woman-child with blue eyes and raven hair.

*** * * * ***

Kagome poured herself another drink and raised her glass in a silent toast to the memories that were sinking and fading under the onslaught of alcohol. She pursed her lips as the liquor touched them and watched a lone drop of whiskey slide down the bottle's slender neck. As the droplet reached the tabletop and became indistinguishable she had the strangest notion that the bottle was crying for her.

The sickening idea sent an electric shock coursing through her and for a moment the real she emerged; lively, outgoing and sober. The image of her former self was painful and for a brief moment Kagome wanted nothing more than to reclaim what she had once been. She wanted to relive that past life and act as if not one drop of sin had ever passed her lips. A fire of determination ignited within her and she managed to push her drink away. But…

It was far too late and the pain was still very real.

Her fingers slowly closed around the cool glass, and all at once the noises were much too loud, the smells were unusually strong and Kagome's stomach rolled as the room started to spin. She closed her eyes against the nausea and thought for a nonsensical moment that she had finally pushed her limit. But abruptly the revolting movement stopped, and the world seemed to have stopped with it. Cautiously, Kagome opened her eyes and saw _him_ sitting in front of her in all his pristine glory.

She couldn't understand why she didn't seem surprised.

It didn't seem fair that he hadn't changed, but then again, she had never really expected him to. And it frustrated her that one heated look from him could still make her melt, so she guessed she really hadn't changed much either.

When he tore his eyes away from hers and glanced down at the whiskey in her hand, Kagome almost made a noise of protest. He didn't seem to notice her distress.

"You are drinking," he stated plainly, returning his intense eyes to her.

Her cheeks heated with embarrassment and she fumbled with her glass, purposely avoiding his accusing gaze with downcast eyes. "…Yes."

He reached for her drink and she drew it into herself, clutching the glass so tightly she thought it would break. He immediately withdrew his hand and this time it was her turn to stare, because he never gave in so easily. The sadness reflected in his golden eyes hurt her, but the disappointment she saw made her resent everything she had become.

"Why?" he asked her.

Whether he was asking her why she had resorted to drinking or why she had yet to move on she didn't know, but the answer was still the same. "I don't know," she admitted, then smiled sadly. "You must think I'm weak."

He sighed. "No, I do not."

There was a long pause, then Kagome heard his clothing rustle and she wanted to believe she had felt him lightly caress her hand. "You are human."

The bitter truth always was the hardest to accept.

Somehow she sensed he was about to leave and looked up pleadingly, desperate to hold him, bury her face in his throat and beg him to love her again. Yet, she remained seated and didn't let him see her cry because none of it would matter. He didn't want her anymore.

And when his form faded until nothing remained but a decadent longing she downed her drink, waited and then sobbed quietly. It still wasn't enough. She still loved him.

*** * * * ***

When he was young, the world was simple.

For centuries he had done nothing but adapt and observe his ever-changing surroundings, and while some changes had taken him by surprise the basic principles of life had always remained steadfast. But now, as he sat and scrutinized the aristocracy of society, he wondered what drastic change had befallen the world that put vermin such as these in control.

He sneered at the men, human men no less, who had the undeserved responsibility to govern the masses that were lower on the ladder of society, and yet they had never fought a hand-to-hand battle or received a serious injury defending that which they deemed important. They had most certainly never gained their desired position by earning respect.

He took a sip from his glass and nearly spat it out when a hand clamped on his shoulder. As he turned to look at the offender he reminded himself that this was no dangerous enemy, so dismembering was completely out of the question.

The smell of alcohol reached his sensitive nose before the human's disheveled appearance came into view and he mentally sighed. It appeared that his associates were celebrating his latest business venture quite fervently.

The intoxicated gentleman awkwardly sat down and gave him a lopsided grin. A trickle of saliva dribbled from the corner of his mouth. "Sesshoumaru," the man slurred. "Why waste your time in this corner? Come, celebrate!"

Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes in disgust and glared at the man's hand. "Remove yourself from my person, Akira."

Akira frowned and furrowed his brow while his hand slowly slid from Sesshoumaru's shoulder. "Why do you have to be like that?" Akira whined. "You've just made yourself richer! Isn't that reason enough to celebrate?"

Sesshoumaru looked away. "I have a lifetime to gather wealth."

Akira gave a raspy laugh. "Yeah, me too. But that doesn't mean we can't enjoy the fruits of our labor." Akira nudged him in the ribs and Sesshoumaru was so stunned that someone would take such liberties with his person he almost forgot to rein in his anger. Some poison leaked from his claws, eroding the fine, wooden table.

"Look over there," Akira said and Sesshoumaru reluctantly turned his head. He found himself looking at one of his oldest colleagues with a young, blonde woman on his arm. While the older gentleman was busy talking the lady turned and their eyes met. She blushed, though it seemed more of a performance than an emotion and smiled, revealing tiny, white teeth.

Akira let out a knowing laugh and Sesshoumaru hoped for his sake that he kept his hands to himself. "I think she wants you."

Sesshoumaru snorted and turned his back on the female. "I have no interest in those matters."

Akira groaned. "Aw, c'mon man! I mean, did you get a look at her?" He let out a low whistle. "What a prize, that one." He leaned in closer. "Can you imagine what she'd be like in the sack?"

Sesshoumaru glared at him. "If you are so concerned, than why not live out these fantasies for yourself?"

Akira looked hesitant and then got shakily to his feet. "Know what? You're right. Why should I let you have all the fun anyway?"

Sesshoumaru watched him stagger off and sighed tiredly at the man's antics. Somehow, wealth had managed to replace honor, and while Sesshoumaru listened to the babbling behind him quickly decided that he would be willing to lose his left arm once more in exchange for one worthy companion.

He grabbed his drink, closed his eyes and took a delicate sip, trying to savor the robust flavor amidst the festivities. When the last of the liquor ran down his throat he opened his eyes and stared at the remaining amber liquid thoughtfully.

*** * * * ***

_At first he was angered when he was unable to come up with a logical retort to her question, so he settled for giving her one last icy glare before pivoting smartly and continuing down the sidewalk. He assumed that after the last comment, along with the warning glare he had given her that she would be wise enough to give up her pursuit and leave him alone. _

_Therefore, he could only describe the sinking feeling in his gut as horror when he heard her tiny footfalls fall in stride behind him._

_For a time they traveled in comfortable silence, and there were moments that he was sure she had given up her hopeless pursuit. But there were too many distractions around him to know for certain, and he didn't dare turn around lest he give her the impression that he had changed his mind. _

_The wind suddenly shifted, bringing her scent to his attention and confirming that she had yet to leave. He gritted his teeth in irritation at her persistence and as a last resort, released a minute amount of his powerful energy, hoping to deter her tenacious chase. That was when she began to talk, and although he was grateful that she decided to avoid their previous topic, he stifled a groan of frustration when she voiced her new topic of interest. _

_After the first five minutes of her incessant chatter he found himself wishing it had been the reincarnation of Rin that had had the luck of coming across him instead. She would have also followed him around relentlessly, as this woman was doing now, but at least she would have done so quietly. _

A rather annoying, perhaps the most insignificantly deemed part of my past has found me_, he sullenly theorized. And instead of stopping and finally confronting her, he was doing something he had not done since he had tracked down Inuyasha for information on the whereabouts of Tetsusaiga. _

_He was fleeing._

_Although it pained him to admit it, he had taken every twist and every turn, going as fast as his feet would allow without exhibiting his inhuman nature. And damn her, she had kept up! It was unheard of! He, the Lord of the Western Lands, fleeing from a mere human priestess. Disgraceful, the other rulers would have said. Not fit to rule, they would have decided. But they weren't here anymore. There was only he, and a pathetic, human girl left._

_He turned to face her, the force of his pivot so strong that his black tie nearly whipped her in the face. She stared up at him; confusion and anticipation alight in her eyes. The familiar expression that he had witnessed so many times in the past drained his anger, leaving him weak with wasted indignation._

This woman_, he thought as he stared into her wide eyes, _brings back memories better left forgotten_. Somehow, she made the past seem within reach by unknowingly calling forth long discounted recollections, making them more vivid than ever before. Her very presence made him feel young again._

_But he didn't want to feel young anymore. There had been an almost charming simplicity when he was young, but nothing was simple anymore. And he had no wish to remember things that could no longer be changed. _

"_Leave me," he had muttered suddenly, but this time he remained facing her, making certain she would not follow him anymore. _

_His voice was so cold she shivered in the sunlight, and instantly her relaxed demeanor was gone. She began to wring her hands nervously, every now and then plucking at the hem of her sleeve. "W-What?" she managed to ask quietly, as if his harsh words could have been confused with anything else._

_He growled darkly, but loud enough that a few passersby glanced around warily, expecting to see a rabid dog in place of the couple standing in the middle of the sidewalk. He ignored their prying eyes, focusing on the woman before him, knowing that the subtle release of his energy would deter any good Samaritans wishing to help a young lady in distress._

"_I said," he callously whispered, "leave me."_

*** * * * ***

The memory burned like the cheap liquor running down his throat, which was no doubt courtesy of the ever tightfisted Akira. But it was a way to briefly forget, and if he had to suffer the aggravation of a scalded throat in exchange for a moments peace, then so be it. As if illustrating his resolve, Sesshoumaru released a surly grunt and refilled his glass with the shoddy liquor, draining it just as quick.

He suddenly remembered that he had drunk like this only once before, and that time he was not aiming for something as meaningless as a mere distraction. That time he had been fully intent on getting drunk. He had succeeded too; after nearly consuming the entire supply of sake stored safely in the root cellar. And as the alcohol had begun to take its toll, he had resigned himself to lie on his bed and simply stare up at the moon. But despite the liquor coursing through his veins, his mind's eye continued to conjure up fleeting memories that even the sake couldn't hold back.

When the image of tousled white hair flashed before him, Sesshoumaru had closed his eyes against the accusing face of the moon. When he unconsciously thought of unbefitting dog ears, he got up and staggered to the window, roughly closing the blind and shutting out the mocking moon's light. But he could still feel the moon's contemptuous gaze on him, and it was the final image of a legendary sword that caused him to bury his face in his pillow, finally immersing himself in the dark.

The next morning he had awoken with his first true headache, and much to his displeasure, the events of the previous night were still very fresh in his mind.

An ironic smile twisted his lips. Even after all these centuries, the image of Inuyasha's broken body never failed to make his heart tighten. And it wasn't the grisly scene that had instilled this unbecoming humility in him, but rather the grisly reality he had come to accept that ominous night of the new moon.

Fate was a cruel, sadistic bitch. And Sesshoumaru had learned as he unsheathed the unresponsive Tenseiga, fate was an enemy that could not be dealt with, whether by mortal or immortal hands.

That very night, as the fresh dirt from Inuyasha's grave clung to his hands, he sought out the low level demon that had murdered his kin. It wasn't hard; the ogre had left a trail even a human with sub-par tracking skills could have followed. And when the sun kissed his lands Sesshoumaru was in a hot spring, washing the ogre's filthy blood from his unforgiving claws.

It was not until the hot spring's waters had turned red from the demon's shed blood did he begin to question his judgment.

Sesshoumaru had never concerned himself with something as petty as revenge, for when you were a demon lord of his stature there were few who would have the audacity to go against you to merit such. So he merely enforced his rule, distributing retribution to those who disobeyed his law or transgressed against those who were under his protection.

And Inuyasha had been neither.

Therefore his conduct had baffled him. He had rarely ever behaved so impulsively in a situation that did not concern him. Only once before had he ever-

_(Rin)_

-but that was in the past, and some things were just better left alone.

So he had attributed his odd behavior to something instinctively territorial. Inuyasha's life had belonged to him; his very existence had been his to control, and when that demon had taken Inuyasha's life, it had taken what he had laid claim to centuries before.

With these facts, he had believed his actions were not based upon revenge. Rather, they were merely provoked by a simplified instance of property damage. His inner beast had simply recognized this before him and taken matters into its own hands.

Or so he'd like to believe.

But if anyone would have asked the fate of the legendary sword that had once divided the brothers, Sesshoumaru would have chuckled darkly, and then explained, quite indifferently, that the sword was more likely than not buried beneath countless layers of earth along with its master.

He would never admit that he had been the one to put it there…

*** * * * ***

"Excuse me, Mr. Taisho?"

The feminine voice drew him from his musings and he looked up to see the young blonde from earlier. She smiled when his eyes met hers and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. "That gentleman over there said you wanted to talk to me."

Sesshoumaru glanced over his shoulder and saw Akira give him the thumbs up. He narrowed his eyes at the gesture and made a quick mental note to make Akira's life as miserable as possible from now on.

"I am afraid that you were misled," Sesshoumaru said, glimpsing back at the woman.

Her eyes momentarily widened but she quickly regained her composure and batted her eyelashes. "Oh, well that's too bad. I was hoping you wanted to talk." She pulled out the chair opposite him. "Do you mind if I sit down?"

He kept his face unreadable. "Do as you wish."

She beamed, then sat gracefully in the chair and he didn't fail to miss the way she edged her slinky dress until she was exposing the bronze flesh of her thigh. "My name's Myra," she began, and he found it amusing that she was trying to remain so nonchalant while sending such broad signals. "So, are you enjoying the party?"

He snorted. "I have been to many of these parties. They are all the same."

She inched closer. "Well, maybe you'd like to do something a little different then, huh?"

He raised a finely sculpted eyebrow. "I do not enjoy spontaneous diversions."

Myra pouted and he looked away. "I only want to get to know you more. A woman wanting to get to know a man isn't an unexpected thing." She paused thoughtfully. "Especially to you, I bet."

He scowled. She may have been hinting at his past sexual escapades, but her past was as clear as an open book to his superior senses. He'd be willing to bet by her actions that this one woman had been with almost as many men as he had killed.

"Your father is one of my oldest associates. If there is something you wish to know, I'm sure he would be more than willing to tell."

He reached out for his drink and stiffened when she laid her hand over his own. "He can't tell me about this," Myra said and then she began to rub small circles over the back of his hand. "Even if he could, they do say experience is the best teacher."

Sesshoumaru looked into her sad face, artificial hair and watery eyes and instantly knew that he didn't want her. This woman was no innocent, she was an experienced seductress and the thought that he would be just a one night stand to her troubled him. He was worthy of more than this, he deserved more than hollow affection! He needed…

_I love you._

Her voice resounded in his head and he instinctively clenched his fist, drawing blood. Sensing his tension, Myra lightly brought her hand up to caress his arm and when he looked into her eyes he saw an empty concern that made the bile rise in his throat.

_Here_, he realized, _there are_ _no_ _promises made because none can be_ _kept._

_W_hen he placed his hand on her exposed leg he acknowledged that they were both the same, and as he met her for a kiss and tasted her bitter breath he wondered how many men she had used to satisfy her insatiable lust. For a moment he was disgusted with her lifestyle, but when her hand moved to caress his inner thigh he suddenly wondered how many women he had used to briefly fill the emptiness that had appeared ever since…

She broke the kiss, panting and said huskily, "There's a room not far from here. Upstairs."

He watched her as she stood and took his hand, trying to lead him to the elegant staircase. When he remained motionless she turned to him and gave him a desperate look.

Sesshoumaru made his decision. He didn't miss her victorious smile as he stood and let her guide him, and as they began their climb he thought back to his ignoble past and sighed deeply.

Maybe it was his turn to be used.

*** * * * ***

_She opened her mouth to reply, but he lifted his lip and briefly exposed the sharp glint of his fangs, effectively silencing her. "I do not wish to hear your reasons," he snarled. "And I have no desire to stay in your company. You did not concern me in the past and you do not concern me now. Now go."_

_His original plan had been to witness her departure, but when he smelled the beginnings of her tears he turned away from her and continued down the sidewalk. It was a little known fact that he couldn't stand to see a female cry, but after his little outburst he was more than confident that she would leave him alone for good this time. _

_A pair of arms suddenly wrapped around his waist, and a face, wet with tears, buried itself in the small of his back. A part of him marveled at how soundlessly she had moved, but he was concentrating more on suppressing the initial urge to behead her for her extreme audacity._

_He grasped her forearms tightly, barely restraining his inhuman strength. "Woman," he said evenly. "Release me."_

_She didn't answer. Instead, she shook her head no. Annoyed with her defiance, he tightened his grip, pleased when he heard her sharp intake of breath. "Release me at once!" he commanded, all composure now devoid from his voice._

"_I won't!" she instantly retorted, and he felt her blunt fingernails dig into his stomach, desperate to obtain some grip. She was crying so hard that she had soaked the back of his shirt._

_People were beginning to stop and stare, which meant that dismembering was out of the question. So instead, he settled for using only a minor extent of his strength to pry her arms from his narrow waist. "You are making a fool of yourself," he told her, hoping that she might relinquish what little hold she had on him for what remained of her dignity._

_But she merely shook her head stubbornly and struggled against his dominant power, every so often stretching her fingers to the point that he thought they might dislocate in order to better her hold on his abused shirt. Her actions were so desperate, that for a moment he wondered if this could possibly be the same feisty woman he had spoken to only minutes before._

"_Please," she suddenly whispered, and her voice was so despondent that he ceased trying to wrench her away from his body. "Please don't go," she begged sadly. "I need your help, but I don't know how to convince you to stay. I know you don't owe me anything, and I have nothing to give you in return."_

_He felt her stiffly draw her hands and body away from him until they were no longer touching, but she was close enough that he could feel the heat from her body. When she spoke again, her hot breath brushed the nape of his neck. "But, please believe me when I say that you're the first."_

_He faced her slowly, strangely dissatisfied when he distinguished the beginning bruises on her arms. But he refused to feel guilty, so he stared dispassionately down at her, a slightly raised eyebrow the only sign of his curiosity. "The first?" he questioned stoically._

_She nodded slowly, her flushed cheeks gleaming as some tears escaped from the corners of her eyes. "Yes," she answered quietly. "I mean, I realize that most of my friends are…are gone now, but I couldn't help but hope that I might come across someone familiar. Someone who knows what happened." She inhaled raggedly and continued. "I've looked for Shippou, tried to sense him, but I haven't been able to find him." She looked up at him hopefully. "Do…do you know what happened to him?"_

"_I do not recognize that name." _

"_He was the fox cub that traveled with us." She smiled fondly. "I guess you wouldn't remember him too well. After all, we usually encountered you during fights, and I always made sure to keep Shippou as far away from battles as possible. I just thought that, maybe…"_

_He tore his eyes away from her, not wishing to see the disappointment that would be mirrored there. "I do not know of him."_

"_Oh," she replied softly. "I suppose I knew all along. I just couldn't help but hope that I might find out what happened to him." He heard her sigh wearily. "I hope he had a happy life." _

_A deep instinct began to scratch at the edge of his senses, warning him where this conversation would ultimately lead. Despite her subtle reassurance that she understood that her human friends were dead, he knew from reliable sources that she had had several friends who were of demon heritage. It was merely the fates that had led her to him instead of some welcoming ally who would have been more than willing to help an old friend._

_He blinked in surprise when a hand frantically waved in front of his face, drawing him from his reflections. He glared down at the woman, irritated that she would interrupt his thoughts in such a childish manner. "What?" he asked irritably._

_She looked up at him in what he perceived as concern before slowly lowering her hand to rest once again at her side. "Are you alright?" she asked._

_He snorted at her question. "Why wouldn't I be?" _

"_I don't know." she replied. "It just looked like you kind of…spaced out for a moment."_

"_Am I not allowed time for thought?"_

"_Well, yeah," she answered slowly, "but it's rude to ignore someone when they're talking. I was talking." She leaned forward and stared up at him earnestly. "You weren't listening, were you?" she asked, and when he didn't answer she sighed wearily. "You weren't," she confirmed, and although her tone remained respectful, her bright eyes belied her annoyance. "I said, do you know of a wolf demon named Kouga?_

"_Hn," he responded, immediately recognizing the name and dreading her reaction to his answer. "I believe he was Prince of the East and lord over the neighboring wolf clans."_

_Her face instantly brightened. "That's gotta be him!" she exclaimed happily. "I can't believe he accomplished so much! I mean, I always knew he had what it took to reunite the wolf tribes, but still…" She smiled timidly. "Do…do you know where I might find him?"_

_He shifted slightly, keeping his impassive stare steadfast. "You cannot find him," he murmured. "He is dead."_

_Her eyes widened in shock and she stumbled backward. "But…I don't understand," she whimpered, and much to his displeasure she clung to his body for support. "H-How did it happen?" He stiffened when she buried her face in his chest, wrapping her arms around him in what looked like a lovers' embrace. "Please," she whispered raggedly. "I have to know."_

"…_He was defending his lands from a small army of renegade demons," he began, firmly grasping her shoulders to pull her away, "when a coward assassinated him." He sniffed in disgust. "The murderer was a traitorous wolf from his own clan, and a close friend no less."_

"_Ginta?" she gasped in shock. She pushed away from him to look into his eyes and see if the name registered, but the name held no meaning to him. When he remained silent she grasped onto his arm. "Was it Hakaku?" _

_Before he could answer she tossed his arm aside and turned her back to him. "I won't believe it," she said defiantly. "They were his friends! They were loyal!" She looked over her shoulder at him with bright, sad eyes. "They'd never, ever do something like that!"_

_Her innocence was charming and infuriating. He thought that she would have realized by now that the world was not always fair and good. If her encounters with Naraku hadn't changed her perspective, the world as she knew it certainly should have. Yet, she remained blissfully innocent. _

She is a creature_, he marveled, _whom time has not touched_._

_This thought disturbed him, as did her incessant crying. Although she wasn't facing him he could see her body tremble with her silent sobs, and he sighed wearily. "I do not know who killed him," he said in a patronizing tone. "The assassin was never discovered." _

_He thought that this would calm her, but she stiffened in anger at his words. He could feel her rage boiling beneath her skin as she pivoted to face him. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" she asked angrily. _

_He stared back at her, slightly confused and his silence only seemed to anger her more. "You really are something else, you know that? You talk about honor and integrity, but when one of your allies gets murdered you don't do a damn thing about it!"_

_He stared dispassionately down at her and watched with irritation as her priestess power began to gather in her hand, crackling in the air when it came in contact with his own energy. "You're such a bastard," he heard her snarl before she readied to slap him. _

_He caught her puny wrist in his hand a hairs breadth from his face, not because his reflexes were rusty, but because he wanted to make a point. "Enough of your rant," he whispered dangerously as her power seared his skin. She began to struggle and he tightened his hold, his insides coiling when she cried out in pain. "I said enough!"_

_She whimpered and he lessened his grip, drawing her so close that he could feel her little puffs of breath against his lips. "Do not presume to give me lectures on things you know nothing of," he said, allowing the hand that had been placed against the small of her back to slide away. "I am a dog demon, and unlike your precious humans, I have never raped a woman or murdered a child. My hands are stained in guilty blood alone. Can the prisoners in your jails say the same?" _

_He released her and she stumbled back, rubbing her wrist furiously. This time he didn't feel guilty for the indentations on her wrist and the beads of blood where his claws had pierced her skin._

"_I am a dog demon," he repeated, waiting until she looked up at him to continue, "and therefore, I understand the importance of pack. That wolf was a valuable ally." He glanced out into the crowd of humans bustling up and down the sidewalk, completely unaware of what stood in their midst. "Do not feel regret for his death," he said solemnly. "He died for a worthy cause. He was a brave warrior."_

"…_I'm sorry." _

_He looked back at her impassively, a small part of him slightly disappointed with her archaic opinion of him. She took a trembling step toward him and clasped her hands to her breast. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I had no right to say what I did. I'm just so, so angry! I know that isn't an excuse, but…" She turned her face from him and he could smell salt in the air._

"_How could things be allowed to turn out this way?" she asked him quietly. "After all we did, don't you think we're entitled to something?" She hastily wiped her eyes and looked back at him. "I'm not asking for a reward. I did what I did because it was the right thing to do, and I wouldn't change it for anything. But, don't you think we deserve closure at least?"_

_He scowled. "Is closure what you really desire, even if the end is unhappy?" he asked sternly. "After your last reaction, I have my doubts as to how you will handle the fates of your other comrades."_

_She smiled sadly. "My friends were all very strong. I know they accepted their fates, the good and the bad. If…if they could accept the way things turned out, then so can I." She looked at him pleadingly. "I need to know what happened. Please."_

_He sighed resignedly but relented to her, knowing that the sooner he answered her questions the sooner she would leave. "The wolf is dead," he repeated tiredly. "I do not know of the fate of the one you called Shippou. As for the monk and slayer-"_

"_Miroku and Sango," she interrupted, and he inclined his head in consent._

"_As for them," he continued, "they mated and had many children. I have come across many of their descendants throughout the centuries. They were quite recognizable; even if the male's holy powers have diminished to almost nothing."_

_She wrung her hands in anxiety, smiling longingly. "So, they were happy?"_

_He sighed in exasperation, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. "It would seem so." _

_She averted her gaze from him and looked out into the street, focusing on nothing in particular. "Then…that makes me happy," she said. "I mean, even though Kouga is gone, and Shippou is…well, just knowing that Miroku and Sango had good life makes it all seem worthwhile." Sniffing quietly, she looked back at him with glistening eyes. "Do…do you know what happened to-"_

_A deep part of him recognized what she was about to ask, and he stiffened at the thought of telling her the truth. It wasn't the truth itself that bothered him, although he still continued to dwell on it every now and then. He knew what her inevitable reaction would be; she would want comfort, and he had none to give. _

_He clasped his hand around her mouth before she could finish her question, effectively silencing her. "Do not ask me," he commanded fiercely, and she blinked in confusion. Her uncertainty angered him, and he briefly tightened his grip before releasing her. This time she didn't stumble back from him, but she did place her hands to her face, clumsily inspecting the marks he had made. _

"_Do not ask me," he repeated grimly, keeping his face impassive as she gazed at him. He stared into her eyes and suddenly saw a fearful truth mirrored there, shimmering darkly. For a moment he believed she somehow knew everything, but then the dreadful spark flickered from her eyes, leaving only a curious expression in its absence. Uncertain of her lack of knowledge but loath to betray anymore, he turned to leave her._

"_Wait!" she called out desperately, and this time he wasn't even surprised when she grabbed a hold of his upper arm. "Please wait!"_

_He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "I have given you all the information I will. If there is more you wish to know, seek out someone else." He yanked his arm from her, pleased when she put up no resistance. However, his satisfaction at her submissive behavior died away when she continued to follow him._

But at least now she is being quiet,_ he thought. _

_Not surprisingly, her silence was short-lived. "If you don't want to talk about…about him, that's alright," she said. "I mean, I guess I understand." Somehow she managed to gently touch his shoulder, even though she was now practically running to keep up with him. "We can always talk next time."_

_He turned on her and grabbed her wrist so quickly she didn't have time to react. "And what makes you think there will be a next time?" he asked savagely. She flinched at his show of anger, but kept her gaze steady. _

"_I have already told you," he snarled, "I do not desire your company. You are not nor were you ever any concern to me. Your constant meddling in my affairs never went unnoticed, but I allowed you to live only because you are below me. A mere human girl, priestess or not, is no match for a demon lord." _

_He yanked her close, glad when he heard her sharp intake of breath. "It would do you well to avoid me," he whispered in her ear. "In this world, I am no more than a human, and humans kill their own kind everyday. I can promise there will be nothing left once I am finished with you."_

_She frowned, the corner of her lip trembling. "You're not happy," she whispered, and it irritated him that she stated this rather than asked, as if she knew him. "I know I'm right when I told you there aren't many demons left. So that means you're outnumbered…and our technology is very deadly." She reached up like she wanted to caress his cheek, but thought better of it and placed her hand on his striped wrist instead. "You've given up," she murmured sadly._

"_You speak nonsense," he said harshly. "I am wealthy. I am respected. I have women fighting each other to get in my bed, and men groveling at my feet for my approval. The times may have changed, but the basic principles always remain the same. I am more than content with the way things are."_

_Her eyes briefly widened at his words, but a poignant hue still remained. "You're lying," she replied simply, and he recoiled from the sad sincerity in her voice. "You can't tell me you're satisfied with the way things are. I think you realize that people now respect you for what you can do, not what you've done. _

"_But not me," she reassured, gazing at him earnestly. "I respect you. No matter what you think, I really do. How could I not?" she asked, smiling timidly. "You saved a little girl's life. You overcame your prejudice to fight with us for the greater good. I know you're a good person." She gently squeezed his wrist. "You don't need your wealth or power to have my respect."_

_He gritted his teeth at her relentlessness. "And what makes you think I want your respect?"_

_She laughed softly, her eyes sparkling. "Well, that's the nice thing about respect. People usually give it to you whether you want it or not."_

_Her logic was infuriating and he averted his gaze from hers, releasing her wrist and wincing inwardly when she absently began to rub it. She was still very human and fragile, despite her seemingly long life-span. "I have already revealed all that I will," he sighed jadedly. "You know that. What is it that you really want?"_

_It was apparent that she wanted more than answers now. Perhaps in the beginning she had only been curious about her friend's whereabouts, but his presence seemed to have awakened some new hunger inside her. There was something she had been seeking that she had seemed to find in him, her only existing link to the past. _

_His straightforwardness appeared to have stunned her and she blinked rapidly, nervously worrying her lower lip. "Well…company," she said simply after a moment's thought, as if the answer were completely obvious._

_Her answer made him chuckle, and he enjoyed her brief look of shock at his uncommon outburst. "I am certain you can find much more suitable companionship than I."_

"_No, no I don't think so." She furrowed her brow stubbornly and met his steadfast gaze. "I think," she began firmly, "that in some way we both need each other."_

_Her answer was unexpected and he drew back from her, narrowing his eyes. "I have lived hundreds of years without the indulgence of companionship," he sneered. "I need no one." _

"_You don't have to pretend around me," she replied quietly. "I know what it's like. It's cold and ugly to be alone.__1__" _

_He swallowed thickly, the truth of her words turning his hard won constraints to dust. "I know," he agreed, earning a gasp of surprise from her. "But we do what we have to do to survive." _

But it never used to be_, he silently added. There had been a time when he treasured the days spent in solitary bliss. But now, in a world with six billion inhabitants, he had never felt more isolated. And although he had always been accepting of his isolation, there was a part of him that had never truly been content._

_Then the priestess had turned up, and during the course of their conversation that discontent had literally flared to life, consuming him in its blaze. He had thought she would be no more than a fleeting amusement; but now his instincts were stirring, insisting that this girl, this fiery little spitfire just might be what he needed to regain some of his passion for a life that suddenly seemed much too long. _

_It was a tempting proposal. She was offering herself to him, and he was willing to admit that her defiance and feistiness were quite refreshing. But he was hesitant, secretly fearing that her personality would easily become addicting in a world that had become a dull and empty shell. _

"_I don't know why you won't give it a chance," she suddenly huffed, crossing her arms in irritation at his silence. "It's not like you have anything to lose."_

"_I do not," he admitted, and she looked at him anxiously. "But I think it unwise for you to associate with me. We were enemies, turned allies by an unforeseen evil. When that evil passed there was no reason to keep ties, and so we became adversaries once more. I do not know you," he insisted, "and I cannot help you move on."_

"_You can," she disagreed. "And…and I think I can help you, too. You tell me we're unable to move on together because of our past differences, but that's not true. What we should do is come to terms with what happened then, and what can happen now." She drew in an exasperated breath and softened her voice. "We need to let old wounds heal. I think that's the first step to moving on for the both of us." _

_A part of him stirred restlessly at her words, wanting no more than to enfold her, possess her like some precious treasure and never let her go. He was first and foremost a predator, a possessive dog demon that found the idea of once more having a pack too tempting to remain docile. The demon inside him that ran purely on base instinct began raging, thrashing about in its intangible chains and demanding that he accept what she was offering so freely. _

"_You do not just want company," he finally said. "You want someone who knows what happened. I have the impression that if I agree to this, I will only be used for what I know."_

_She surprised him when she smiled brightly. "And you want someone who remembers. I have the feeling that if you agree to this I'll only be used for what I remember. So I guess the only fair thing to do is meet in the middle and consider this a 'give and take' relationship."_

_For the first time in a long time he felt the corner of his mouth curve into an imperceptible but real smile. "Indeed…Kagome." _

*** * * * ***

1 This line is from the novel "Dark Prince," by Christine Feehan


	2. Chapter 2

Unspoken Devotion: Requiem

Chapter Two

_The slate will soon be clean,_

_I'll erase the memories,_

_To start again with somebody new,_

_Was it all wasted,_

_All that love?_

_I hang my head and I advertise,_

_A soul for sale or rent,_

_I have no heart, I'm cold inside,_

_I have no real intent._

Queen – "Save Me"

*** * * * * **

If anything was ever truly learned by those with a broken heart it would be that the night was made for mourning. The daytime would always provide distractions, but when the sun went down all that would be left to do would be to ponder over memories of happier times.

Perhaps that is why Omoidasu always filled up at this hour.

Kagome wearily scooted until the rest of the tables were hidden from her view. She leaned her head against the wooden paneling and stared desolately at the empty seat opposite her. As if on cue a memory began to stir and she reflexively reached for the bottle, pouring another drink.

_The old me wouldn't do this_.

But that optimistic young girl was gone, she reminded. That Kagome was buried beneath a suffocating pile of broken dreams and endless heartaches.

A familiar form began to manifest itself before her eyes, and every developing distinction brought with it the faint wisp of a particularly painful memory. Flinching inwardly, Kagome tipped the glass to her lips and took a quick swallow. As the hot whiskey ran down her strangely dry throat the form began to evaporate, taking the tragically memorized piece of her painful past with it.

She gazed at the liquor gratefully.

What truly mattered was that the sorrowful memories died briefly with every drink, fading into the cool recesses of her subconscious and giving her a blissful moment's peace. Yet, even through the endless haze of alcohol she always managed to wonder what she had done in her lifetime to deserve so many cruel twists of fate.

_It should be enough_, she thought angrily, _to have to wake every morning and see what I've become. That degradation should be enough_.

But it wasn't, and now, as she stared wistfully at the amber liquid resting innocently in her glass-

_(this color does not remind me of his eyes)_

-she wondered what incident had caused her to completely shatter. And for the first time in what seemed like forever, Kagome allowed herself to remember. She thought hard, back to a time that was simultaneously farther and closer to her heart than anything she had ever known before…

Kagome remembered the Feudal Era.

*** * * * ***

He had barely laid foot into the darkened room when the human woman faced him and grasped onto his shoulders, forcing him against the adjacent wall. She ran her lips along his jaw as her hands snaked inside his shirt, and he was just so empty, so tired that it didn't even matter that he was allowing himself to be dominated, and by a human female no less.

Her hands caressed his bare flesh and every touch she made left a burning, bitter path in its wake. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind the primordial side of him reared its head and whined its antipathy, just as it did every time he took a woman to bed.

_It is not her!_

He languidly closed his golden eyes, allowing his other senses to take control as Myra's lips moved to his bare chest. "I know," he replied, speaking so softly the woman before him didn't even hear him speak.

Displeased but compliant the beast grunted, fading back into his subconscious, and as the woman's fingers nimbly loosened his belt he wanted nothing more than to follow the primitive creature into the dark. Instead Sesshoumaru turned his face to the ceiling, away from the human's blonde hair and blue eyes, and when he felt her little puffs of breath travel lower he grasped her hair, not in passion but desperation, and imagined silky raven tresses.

She briefly paused above him before wantonly digging her fingers into his hips, and he faintly smelled his own blood. He nearly lost control over the woman's brazen antics; no whore had ever made him bleed. When Sesshoumaru felt her tongue laving the wounds he all but cringed. Sensing the change in atmosphere, Myra got to her feet and tenderly cupped his face.

The gesture seemed oddly out of place.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" she asked huskily, and there was a trace of smug satisfaction in her voice.

He wanted to laugh at her question, but he never laughed anymore.

"You cannot hurt me," he told her, and then he grabbed her wrists roughly. He briefly examined her hands before sighing resignedly and splaying her hands across his chest.

The corner of her lip lifted and she wrapped her frail arms around his neck. "Good."

She kissed him harshly, desperately, and when he opened his mouth to her probing he tasted the years of her degradations on his tongue. Myra moaned into his mouth and to his ears it didn't sound passionate but rather forced and accepted.

He knew she really didn't want this, no more than he did.

_There is still time_, he told himself and he placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her away from his lips. She gazed at him in confusion and for the first time since their intimate encounter he stared into her eyes. _Tell me no._

She licked her lips sensually, smiled and he could feel his stomach clench.

_No, she does not want this_, he told himself as she pressed her cold lips to his once again. Sesshoumaru could feel her heartbeat quicken when he didn't respond and he sighed tiredly, draping his arms around her petite waist. She smiled against his skin.

_But it is all she knows_.

Myra tried to deepen the kiss, but this time he did not open his mouth to her. She huffed in annoyance at his lack of response and instead brought her lips to his ear, nibbling the lobe. "Are you going to take me against the wall like an animal," she whispered sensually, "or on the bed like a civilized human being?"

He nearly snorted in ironic amusement at her question as he grasped the hair at the nape of her neck and pulled her head back until they were eye to eye. He made sure to keep his stoic gaze steadfast.

Myra smiled coyly and pulled his hand from her hair without struggle, examining it for a moment before laying a kiss on the tip of one dangerous claw. The unusual length was virtually imperceptible in the dark.

The tip of her tongue touched his skin. "I don't have all night, you know."

_No_, he agreed silently. _In fact, you may not even have tomorrow_.

As he yielded to her wants and followed her to the bed he briefly wondered if he should tell her, tell her about the stench of death and decay on her breath and in the sweat of her skin. A smell so faint no human doctor would ever know of it until it was too late.

She led him to the bed and sat down and he placed her beneath him, straddling her hips with his muscular thighs more out of habit than anything else. She grabbed him and brought him down for another bruising kiss, putting all her passion and desire into that one act. He found he could do no more than follow, for he had nothing to give.

These days, he only took.

Sesshoumaru could smell salt in the air, and when she finally released him he lifted his head enough to see that she was crying. Not bothering to hide her tears, Myra bit her lip and caressed his cheek.

"Tell me you want me."

He swallowed hard. _I do not want this…_

His hair fell like water through her fingers. "Tell me you need me."

_I need peace…_

She dug her fingers desperately into his shoulders and sobbed. "I don't know what to do anymore. This has never happened. Please…"she cried while cupping his face tenderly. "Tell me. What's the matter? Did I do something wrong?"

_I. Want. Redemption!_

He clenched his eyes at the painfully familiar words and hoisted himself away from her. She cried out from the loss, clutching his neck like a fearful child, and he begrudgingly relented to her.

"Please don't leave me!" she begged and now harsh, inapt sobs wracked her body.

He wrapped his hands around her forearms and easily pried her off. The old him, the real him was trying to break free, and he feared if he succeeded this frail, human woman would be the victim of his once legendary wrath. When he stood and their bodies were no longer touching she became angry.

"Don't you dare leave me like this!" she cried and his ears rang from the volume of her voice. He took another step away.

"I can make your life a living hell!"

And that was the irony, for his life was already such.

He appeared in front of her so quickly he was merely a blur, and she fell back on the bed in fear. He had red eyes.

"Woman," he growled, "you are dying."

She stared at him with wide eyes. "W-what?"

He snarled and dug his elongated claws into the down mattress on either side of her, spewing goose feathers everywhere. "Your blood is tainted and your mind is ignorant. Can you not sense your body crying out?"

She was too startled by his animalistic behavior to scream, but she managed the courage to slap him hard across the face. Whether she did so in understanding or fear he didn't know.

"You're lying!" she cried.

The walls suddenly seemed too close and the air was too foul, so he turned and left her, broken and abandoned in the room. He raced down the stairs while simultaneously buttoning up his shirt, and for the first time in his life he was afraid. This disguise was eating him from the inside and when the dust settled all that would be left would be Sesshoumaru, the revolutionary, _human _business tycoon.

He raced past his colleagues and somewhere he heard Akira call out, "Did you make her scream?"

Sesshoumaru ignored the laughs and jeering taunts and before Akira could take another breath his hand was around the stout man's throat. Akira's eyes widened and he laughed nervously, holding his hands up in submission.

"Hey, man, I was only kidding."

Sesshoumaru lifted his lip in disdain. "Man?" he questioned angrily. "I am no man."

Akira suddenly found himself airborne and he roughly landed onto a lounge seat ten feet away. The couch made a sickening creaking sound, and as Sesshoumaru turned and hurried out the double wide doors the couch gave one last groan before the legs gave out and the seat tumbled to the floor; with a dazed Akira still perched shakily on top.

Sesshoumaru rushed out into the street, into the pouring rain and he could hear his wild heart beating. And as he stood on the sidewalk while the waves of humanity came crashing down upon him, he began to laugh darkly at the appalling human emotion now coursing through him.

He wanted a drink.

*** * * * ***

_He had wanted to talk and she had readily agreed, so when the sun began to set she went to meet him under the cover of the God Tree. When she emerged from the copse of trees he was already there, leaning up against the base of the God Tree with his arms tucked into the sleeves of his red kimono._

_She couldn't help but smile at how ethereal he looked in the fading light. But despite his still, quiet contemplation she could sense the fiery aura of victory radiating off him in suffocating waves._

_As she traveled closer to him she realized there was something else in the air as well. It was deep and dark and she could actually feel the cold wisps of it entangle her body and caress her skin. But it was very faint compared to the intoxicating energy that seemed to envelop the forest so strongly that the clearing glowed, so she pushed the feeling aside._

_Inuyasha continued to remain motionless, and a secluded part of her knew that this silence was not normal for the two of them. This quiet was tense and while the child she used to be longed for him to speak, the mature woman she had become dreaded the words she somehow knew would pass his lips._

_It felt as if the world had stopped spinning as the silence dragged on, and before she could stop herself, she spoke. "You know, I'm not sure whether I should be laughing or crying right now."_

_She practically sighed in relief when the corners of Inuyasha's mouth lifted into a smirk. But it was a grim smile, more like he was finally acknowledging a hard truth than celebrating a victory he had waited far too long for._

_Finally, he cracked one eye open and looked at her, and Kagome could feel the coldness embrace her more intimately, seeping bitterly into the pores of her skin and coursing sluggishly through her veins. She involuntarily shivered, unsure if it was from the sudden unearthly chill or from the way his eyes seemed to glow._

_Inuyasha seemed to sense her distress and turned his head, his long bangs masking his intense eyes. The absence of his stare didn't make her feel any better, but she tried to sound confident for him._

"_Are you all right, Inuyasha?" She instantly wanted to berate herself for the stupid question when he started to chuckle, but his laughter was strangely dark and hollow. _

_His behavior was scaring her, and she suddenly wanted him to leap from the tree, sweep her into his arms and say, "Of course I'm all right, idiot!" That would be such a likely reaction from him, and she would gladly overlook the name-calling if he would only act like his normal self again._

_But the grim laughter dripping from his lips told her that the scenario she pictured would not happen, and she felt a bitter premonition worm its way into her spine, forewarning that he was about to act anything but normal. Kagome tensed when his laughter abruptly died and he inhaled deeply, preparing to speak. _

"…_I've dreamt of this moment ever since I can remember. Even when I was a boy I lived off revenge, you know. Except for those first few nights when I figured it'd just be easier to find some random demon who'd be more than willing take out an abomination like me, revenge has made me eat and drink and breathe."_

_Unconsciously, he removed his hands from his kimono and placed them at his sides. Even in the dimming light she could see the blood dripping from his compressed palm where his claws had pierced the skin._

"_Whenever I did feel like giving in I'd just have to think of Sesshoumaru because I knew that I didn't want to give that bastard the satisfaction of coming across me dead. I knew he'd stand over my body and sneer and think to himself that he was right when he decided to leave me to humans."_

_He chuckled, a throaty sound thick with nostalgia and devoid of humor. "It was this fact, this knowledge that kept me going, because I'd be damned if I was about to prove him right about anything. I didn't ever live for myself. I existed just to piss him off._

"_But then I met Kikyou, and for the first time in my life I wanted to be, not because it made anyone's life difficult, but because it made me happy." He blinked slowly. "It felt almost forbidden to know that I was doing it all for myself."_

_He looked at her again, but this time he kept his gaze steadfast. "When you released me, revenge was all I could think about. Even when I learned Kikyou was dead, the need for vengeance never once wavered. I thought I'd die from all the hate in my veins." He smiled grimly. "Why else do you think I agreed to slay all those stray demons during our journey?_

"_When Naraku first revealed himself I was happy. Not because I'd finally learned who had turned Kikyou and I against each other, but because he was the object by which I'd gain my revenge." He swallowed thickly. "The fact that he was half-demon made it all the better."_

_She gulped and took a small step forward. "Inuyasha," she said in a placating tone. "It's totally natural that you would want vengeance for yourself and Kikyou. Naraku got what he deserved." She reached out her hand and gently touched his shoulder. "What you're feeling, what you've felt is normal."_

_Without warning he turned and grabbed her hand so tightly the bones grinded together. "Not like this, it isn't," he whispered harshly. "Every time he escaped I was happy. Sometimes, I even wanted to let him go, just to drag out the satisfaction of when I'd finally defeat him. But the more time passed and the lives he destroyed. I…"_

_He let go of her hand and she backed away from him, not out of fright but instinct. He didn't seem to notice. "…I shouldered their retribution. Every single person he transgressed against. And as time passed and his power grew I realized that my revenge was no more important than the farmer who lost his land or the demon who had been deceived or the village that had been destroyed. It was time to end it because…" He hung his head. "…I think if I'd have come across one more being who'd been wronged by him I'd have gone insane."_

_She wanted to go to him, comfort him, but a small part of her was wary. "But you did it, Inuyasha," said managed weakly. "You won."_

"_Yeah, I won," he spat. "But at what price?"_

_She blinked. "I don't understand."_

_He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and the cold became so intense it burned. "Kagome… you need to go home."_

_The bottom fell out of her world. "W-what? Why?"_

_He sighed. "The adventure's over and everything is as it should be. Now, I need to put the last thing right."_

"_But…but what about me?" She lowered her voice to barely a whisper. "What about us?"_

_He cocked his head. "What about us?"_

_She felt her cheeks heat, but she refused to back down. There was too much at stake for reservation. "I thought that when it was over, we'd…I mean...that is to say…" _

_Suddenly the burning cold was overwhelmed by her fire and she pointed her finger accusingly at him. "I thought you loved me!"_

_She expected him to flatten his ears, blush, and either leap away in embarrassment or stay behind and vehemently deny her accusation. However, he did neither of these things and she didn't know what to make of it. When he turned his head and really looked at her it nearly broke her heart all over again._

"_I can't love you like you want me to, Kagome."_

_She could feel the tears run down her cheeks. "Is it because of Kikyou?"_

_Inuyasha frowned. "This has nothing to do with Kikyou. Time changes everything, Kagome, and as much as you'd like to deny, time has changed you. In the past you loved me, but I was too blinded by my own needs to see it. Now, now I want you so badly it hurts. But…" He looked up into the night sky. "…You don't love me anymore."_

"_That's not true!" she cried. "I love you just the same as I did five years ago! Nothing's changed between us!"_

"_Things have changed, Kagome. Tell me, in all honesty, am I the person you want to be with for eternity? Is this the face you want to see every morning when you wake and every night when you lie down to sleep?"_

"_For the rest of my life, yes!"_

_He punched the God Tree so hard the bark splintered. "Stop lying to yourself! Stop lying to me! And stop trying to be the fifteen year old girl you were before! You don't love me as a lover anymore, Kagome. You love me as a friend and it's my entire fault."_

_Inuyasha drew in a shuddering breath and looked away. "I don't know. Maybe…maybe if I'd seen it earlier, acknowledged it sooner, things wouldn't have to be this way. But I was selfish, and I chose to ignore the signs and overlook your loyalty." He glanced at her briefly and his eyes were shimmering. "You'll never know how deeply I resent myself for that._

"_And the temptation to be selfish again is very, very strong. But, what kind of person would I be if I allowed you to give yourself to me when that's really not what you want, despite what you try to tell yourself?" He swallowed hard. "It's so blindingly clear now. I made you wait too long…and you've moved on."_

_He pushed himself away from the God Tree and turned to face her completely. "So, yeah, I've won," he said sadly. "But I've also lost."_

_She cried then, harsh, ragged sobs that wracked her body, and when he comforted her she hoped to feel some sort of spark, some kind of fire within her that would prove him wrong. But there was nothing exceptional from his embrace, and the only warmth she felt was from his body._

_Inuyasha brought them to their knees and stroked her hair soothingly. "It'll be all right. It's so much better this way, you'll see." _

_His tenderness was so regrettably unbefitting and it hurt her to know that she had changed him so drastically. Slowly, she lifted her head from his kimono and gently cupped his face._

"_What have I done to you?" she whispered sadly._

_Inuyasha smiled down at her. "Idiot," he fondly breathed. "The more you sit here and cry over what can't be changed, the longer you're denying someone else the same privilege you gave me."_

_She laughed, and it was soft and sad. "I don't deserve you."_

"_No," Inuyasha agreed quietly as he helped her to her feet. "You deserve better."_

_She gazed into his eyes and saw a fierce love there she had never seen before. The loss made her want to cry all over again. He suddenly reached for her face and she closed her eyes in what she willed to be anticipation of the caress. But when she didn't feel his touch she opened her eyes questioningly and saw that his hand had frozen in place and his fingers were a breath away from her skin. _

"_What's wrong, Inuyasha?" she whispered, noticing that his hand had started to tremble._

_He pulled his pained expression from his hand to her face and smiled sheepishly. "I want to touch you so bad," he admitted quietly. "But…it's not right."_

_She slowly wrapped her hand around his wrist and brought it to her face, unable to keep the smile from showing at his shocked expression. Yet, despite Inuyasha's surprise at her brazenness, he put up no resistance._

"_Yes, it is," she assured him as he tenderly caressed her cheek with a calloused thumb, wiping away a stray tear. "It's all right."_

_They stood there in the dark staring at each other for a few moments more before she gently removed Inuyasha's hand from her face and placed it at his side. Shyly, she moved closer to him until she could feel the heat radiating off of his body, all the while keeping their fingers entwined. As she leaned toward him, she imagined an unbecoming blush staining the usually brash half-demon's cheeks._

"_I want you to kiss me, Inuyasha," she said softly._

_He tensed and began to pull away, but it was a weak attempt and she held on strong. "No," he said hoarsely. "I can't."_

_She trembled slightly; feeling dazed by her request for him if that were even possible, and leaned closer until she felt his quick puffs of breath on her lips. "You can," she told him as she gently placed her hand on the back of his neck, preventing him from pulling away. She was gratified to feel him begin to tremble beneath her hands and it felt good to know that he was just as nervous as she._

"_I don't want any promises," she told him quietly. "I'm not asking for your eternal devotion and I don't want to be remembered with tears." She swallowed thickly. "I just want the now. Please kiss me, Inuyasha. Not as a lover. As the best friend I've ever had."_

_His muscles relaxed then and she easily pulled him forward until their lips lightly touched. It was the most honest kiss she had ever given or received; never mind she didn't have much experience. When he gently moved his lips against hers she sighed contentedly, silently pleased with his response._

_Feeling oddly confident at his acceptance, she put a little more pressure on the kiss, and when he didn't protest she wanted to pull back, smile timidly and ask him how he could possibly think that she didn't love him anymore. The idea that the love she had harbored toward Inuyasha since this journey began could suddenly vanish without her knowledge seemed incredible._

…Then why don't I feel anything_?_

_It was true. This moment, the moment she had been waiting for since forever felt no more exceptional than when she kissed Souta on the cheek, and she couldn't understand why. The idea that all that she knew, everything she had based her future on was falling apart frightened her, and she instinctively moved closer to Inuyasha, seeking reassurance from the only steadfast thing in this life. _

_The knowledge that one of them was right about her true feelings was strangely humbling, but the nagging doubt that insisted it was she who was wrong terrified her more than any of Naraku's evils ever did._

_At that moment Kagome didn't need to look at Inuyasha to know that he would have a serene look on his face, his features completely devoid of any passionate bliss. It hurt her to know that he thought of this kiss as a confirmation of his beliefs rather than a special moment between them._

_She furrowed her brow thoughtfully. He was holding back for her, because he believed that if he took control he'd be taking advantage of her. It was a gracious gesture, and had this been their first kiss, a promise of a new life together, she would have been touched. But the path of her destiny was riding on this kiss, and she could only mentally huff and wonder how he expected her to sort out her actual feelings when he wasn't even participating in the kiss! _

_Resignedly, she steadied the grip she had on the back of his neck. _

I know I want more than this_…_

_She could feel her heart pounding as she gathered her courage. _

I am ready for more_…_

_She tried to still her nervous shaking at the thought of what she was about to do and pressed her body against Inuyasha's, clumsily trying to deepen the kiss._

I'll show him that this is love_._

_She thought she had succeeded when she felt Inuyasha stir, but before her human reflexes could comprehend what was happening he jerked away, his lips leaving a searing impression on hers. His reaction was so unexpected that she stumbled forward from the loss, barely catching herself at the last minute. When she regained her balance he was supporting himself against the God Tree, panting and looking just about as dazed as she felt._

_She felt a strange sort of pride at the image before her. It excited her to know that innocent she had the ability to affect someone like that. A more cynical part of her wanted to ask him how it was, but his angry expression easily crushed that notion._

"_What the hell were you thinking?" he cried in a guttural voice._

_Feeling suddenly ashamed, she lowered her eyes. "I…I don't know. I just thought that-"_

"_You thought what?"_

_She flinched at his tone. "I thought that if I took things a little further you'd…you know."_

"_You thought I'd rut with you?"_

_Her cheeks heated in embarrassment and she glared at him angrily. "No, you pervert! I thought that if I moved things along you'd finally understand that I still love you!"_

_His eyes softened a little, but his tone was still harsh. "Kagome, I'm not wrong. You don't understand how much I wish I was." He pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "God, Kagome, doesn't that kiss prove anything? There was nothing there!" He looked at her dejectedly. "You didn't feel anything."_

"_Of course I didn't feel anything!" she exclaimed angrily. "How can you expect me to when you're not doing anything? For God's sake Inuyasha, it was like kissing my brother!" _

_He raised an eyebrow and she blushed in mortification. "On the cheek!" she sputtered indignantly._

_Inuyasha smiled and folded his arms inside his sleeves, sitting on the ground in his signature fashion. He was behaving like he always did every time they had an argument, and it was hard to believe by the way he was acting that this time was any different. She almost expected him to utter a barely audible 'feh' before leaping away in order to cool off, leaving her to do the same. _

_But this is different, she reminded herself bitterly. This is the argument of arguments, and right now, everything is at stake. _

_Inuyasha's soft voice disrupted her thoughts. "I don't know why you think this isn't hurting me." _

_She crossed her arms and sneered. "You don't seem to be hurting very much."_

_He looked at her with a pained expression. "I can't remember the last time I cried." He smiled sadly and patted his chest. "It's in there, you know. The urge to express how badly this is killing me is there, but it doesn't know how to come out._

"_When you leave I'll probably go and claw down a forest, maybe go on a hunting spree and kill any demon that challenges me. Afterward, when the shock of what I've done finally sinks in I'll most likely go and sit in a tree and sulk." He chuckled lightly. "I always was very good at that."_

_She bit her lip and looked out over the dimming horizon. "I just don't understand. If you want this as badly as you say, then…why?"_

_She heard his clothing rustle and knew that he had stood. "Because I love you too much to destroy you."_

_She let out a un-lady like snort. "And how would you destroy me?" _

_Inuyasha placed his hands lightly on her shoulders and she absently marveled at how soundlessly he moved. "You've lived for me for five years," he breathed before gently turning her to face him. "Now, I want you to live for yourself."_

"…_I want to believe you," she finally murmured. "It would be so much easier to know that you're doing this for me, that you don't have some ulterior motive for sending me away." She drew in a shuddering breath. "It's just so hard to accept that it's meant to end like this."_

_Inuyasha tipped her chin so that she was looking at him. "I don't know what you want me to do, Kagome."_

_She grasped onto his kimono desperately, a wild look in her eyes. "Just love me."_

"_I already do," he replied before lightly placing a kiss to her forehead. "That's why I'm letting you go."_

_She went to protest but he placed a finger to her lips, silencing her. "Kagome," he said, and his voice was thick with finality. "You need to go home."_

_She pulled away and gazed at him, begging him as a last resort to reconsider with her eyes and hoping that emotions could change what words couldn't. But he stared down at her impassively and under his gaze she felt a soothing numbness take hold of her, freezing her insides and deadening her senses._

_As a last resort she glared back at him with all the resistance she could muster, thinking that if only she could waste a few moments more he would realize what an awful mistake he was making and take it all back. But Inuyasha's stare was unyielding, and at last she relented; not because it was what she wanted, but because she wanted to make him happy._

"_I…I guess I better go pack my things."_

_He nodded and it was then they realized that they were still holding hands. She pulled her hand from his grasp and the sensation of skin on skin now felt nothing but awkward to her. Deep down she despised the unsettling nothingness that now accompanied his touch. _

_But it didn't really matter, she reminded herself, because after tonight she'd never touch him again._

_When she left toward the village he did not follow, but rather remained behind. And when she bid all her friends a hasty farewell he was not there. At first she thought he might not have been able to cope if he actually saw her go in person, but as she perched on the lip of the well she wondered if it was her own fickle resolve that caused him to stay away._

_She waited a few moments before leaping, looking expectedly at the surrounding trees and silently hoping he'd burst through just in time and tell her that he had been wrong. _

_But he never came, and when she finally jumped and the well's magic enveloped her, the reality of what she had just done hit her full force._

_He had let her go, and dear God, she had let him do it._

_It seemed like she was suspended in time forever, and she nearly breathed a sigh of relief when she felt her feet hit solid ground. But the respite was brief, for when she heard her mother's melodic voice and felt the magic caress her skin for what she knew was the last time, she collapsed on the cold, hard ground and grieved over her lost life and love._

*** * * * ***

Kagome remained motionless as the last wisps of the tragic memory faded from her mind. Absently, she began to run her forefinger along the rim of her glass before slamming her fist painfully against the table.

_That should be it_, she thought angrily. _But…it isn't_.

While her sudden parting with Inuyasha did cause the last remains of her moral barrier to crumble, the innocence that had been dwelling for so long behind those walls was not lost; it was merely buried beneath the rubble. Whether it had lacked the drive or motivation for escape Kagome hadn't known, and at the time she didn't care to think on the reasons behind her invisible, emotional stopper.

Instead, she opted to lay awake at night and stare into the darkness, silently hating herself for treating Inuyasha so cruelly and for blatantly questioning his good intentions. And when the pain became too much she'd bury her face in her pillow and try to justify concentrating her self-loathing on him, hopelessly blaming him and his believed-to-be misguided theories for her unhappiness.

So there was no doubt that her spirit had been somewhat broken after that last tragic encounter, but Kagome knew that this sorrowful parting and her premature departure was not _the_ moment that had shattered her spirit and driven her to seek solace from the bottle.

_It was him_, she acknowledged finally, and the power of those words was so intense her entire body trembled. _Oh, dear God, it was him._

Kagome suddenly wondered if Inuyasha, whether he was in some corner of a faraway city or in some corner of heaven, was cringing with the knowledge that she had deemed her little fling with one of his most hated rivals more important than the time spent with him. Would he be angry? Disappointed maybe? She really couldn't blame him if he was, for Inuyasha had loved her with a deep, fiery abandon, but he had lacked the courage to follow through with his hidden heart until it was too late.

Now _he_, oh he had loved her, had taken her to heights she never knew existed. And while she gave him everything and asked only for his devotion in return, she later learned that she had never truly possessed his heart.

_But then_, she reasoned as she took a small sip, _who was I to try and tame the great Dog Demon Prince of the West?_

It had completely destroyed her to accept that she had been just some momentary addiction; a fleeting pleasure meant to merely pass the time. To know that she had given her heart so eagerly, only to have it tactlessly returned with fragile pieces missing was sickening.

And yet, after all that he had done to her she couldn't bring herself to denounce his name, to declare her regret for all the sinful times they spent together in passionate bliss.

Kagome could feel a new batch of tears run down her cheeks as she poured herself another drink, sullenly hoping that wherever Inuyasha was he was angry and disgusted by her atrocious behavior. After all the years, she just didn't have the energy to hate herself anymore.

As the hot whiskey began to run down her throat she suddenly wondered if Inuyasha had ever cried for her. She hoped not, because she wasn't worth it.

*** * * * ***

For the first time in centuries Sesshoumaru wandered.

During Naraku's reign there had been no time to drift, and he had rarely found the time to do so after the evil half demon's demise. Following the final battle his lands had been in turmoil, and he had spent much of his free time converging with the other rulers of the four lands on how to counter the many renegade demons that had arisen throughout the territories.

Of course, their victories had been assured long before they had ever laid foot outside their domains, for what lowly demon could ever hope to prevail against a demon lord? But Sesshoumaru soon realized that there would be no time to patrol his lands in leisure.

It was around the time the last of the disorderly demons were destroyed that the foreigners appeared, bringing with them strange weapons and even stranger customs.

Sesshoumaru had praised Japan's human monarchy for initially dismissing the hopeful traders, but he prepared himself for the worst when the Nanban trade was established. Once the land's ports were opened the humans came in droves, and with them a new hunger for dominance was revitalized.

The foreigners brought with them a new view, and through their eyes demons were seen as animals of mere sport, and not the feared beings they had once so proudly been. With the outsiders' technology on their side, the humans became cockier and even less predictable, and as the years passed Sesshoumaru found he could do no more than watch as the weaker species of his kind dwindled to near extinction.

By the time Japan adopted Western culture and began to industrialize there had been few demons left. Only the demon lords of the past dared to masquerade in the human world, but with this choice came drastic sacrifices.

Reluctant as he was to admit, there was no denying that his senses had dulled over the years thanks to various human inventions that spouted both noise and pollution. As a result, Sesshoumaru found himself relying more heavily on the skill he had almost completely ignored in the past: instinct.

He had long ago abandoned any regard he might have had toward his domestic intuition, deeming the ingrained skill useless. For too long he had relied on his instincts, and each time he had been disappointed. Instinct had told him that his father would bestow his greatest weapon upon his eldest son. Instinct had assured him that it was impossible to lose a direct battle with his mutt of a half-brother. Instinct had promised that no demon, no matter how power hungry, would ever dare transgress against him.

But now, standing aimlessly on the sidewalk with his senses all but deadened, his instinct began to rouse, sending the blood rushing to his temples and setting all his nerves afire.

Sesshoumaru grit his teeth in anger and turned to leave the wretched part of whatever town he had happened upon, refusing to believe that anything but his own two feet had led him there. However, a familiar scent briefly wafted through the air, lightly teasing his senses and effectively stopping him from his hasty retreat.

Stiffly, Sesshoumaru turned around and cast a leery eye on the block before him, and for just a moment denied what his body already knew to be true. When the last wisps of the scent seemed to practically encompass him in a nostalgic caress he was trembling with such a momentous force it left him breathless.

He could feel an eternity of regrets and masked sufferings fill his empty soul to the point of bursting, causing his once impassive character to crumble, only to rebuild and crumble again. With a deep sigh that yielded nothing more than the smell of exhaust and the evening's rain, he relented, and the raging fire he seemed to have immersed himself in slowly flickered out until his whole body tingled with a long forgotten perception.

_It is the building_, he acknowledged. The structure had a strange aura about it, as if the pasts of whoever dwelled within its walls clung to the dilapidated bricks outside, giving it an unearthly, misty glow.

…_She is in there_.

For a long second he contemplated slipping inside, a reasoning surfacing from the deepest recesses of his mind insisting that if he could only see her face, maybe, just maybe, he would feel like his old self before everything had fallen apart.

He almost took a step forward before the humbling thought triggered something inside him; a personal self-respect long thought dead and buried beneath piles of endless facades. This pride rushed hotly through his domesticated veins and for a moment the demon lord of old emerged from his subconscious prison, sneering in disgust at his traitorous thoughts.

_How can a mere human wench return pride?_ _How will her visage restore former glory?_

There was a brief pause and then his demon spoke only once more, sounding strangely tame and forlorn.

…_How can she make an eternity not seem so very long?_

It was true. Life had become nothing but tedious ever since the future had become so boring and predictable.

_She was unexpected though_, he admitted quietly; a shadow of what could have been fondness passing over his face. _She was unexpected and refreshing and new._

But like all things to a demon lord, she was never meant to last.

Becoming annoyed with his sentimental musings, Sesshoumaru snorted and turned his back on the dwelling which held the only piece of his past that he had tried, in vain, to forget. He was giving her far too much credit, he reasoned as he began to walk away. Neither her touch nor her words had ever erased the memories of his painful past.

Still…

His golden gaze rested back on the gloomy, brick building, and he suddenly wondered if he'd be able to look back on this moment five, fifty or even five hundred years from now and not feel some semblance of regret for a missed opportunity to try and make peace with the one remaining part of his past that still survived. Could he really turn away and go on living as if the heated affair never happened?

_Yes,_ Sesshoumaru reasoned after a brief consideration. _I could. _

After all, he had continued after the death of his adopted daughter and brother, and he had carried on when his species was faced with extinction. One sultry affair certainly would not bring the great demon king to his knees.

Sesshoumaru blinked in a rare display of mild surprise when he found himself face to face with the wooden door of the bar. Somehow, while he had been deep in thought, he had wandered over to the entrance. His golden gaze flickered between the grains of the wood to the spotty doorknob.

Suddenly a picture of the noble ruler he had once been flashed before his eyes, and out in the desolate rain on a porch that barely supported his formidable frame, Sesshoumaru realized that he would never again possess that aristocratic stature. Instead of protecting his people and governing his lands he'd been reduced to out-bidding on property and destroying businesses.

But she _knew _him, and in her loneliness she had given herself to him while fully aware of what he was and what he was capable of. And in his selfishness and self-loathing he had freely taken what she had offered.

At one time it would have pleased him to know that he had been the one to deflower his brother's loyal wench. Now…it only made him feel worthless.

As the sound of thunder rumbled in the distance Sesshoumaru grit his teeth, grasped the doorknob and turned.

*** * * * ***

The glass was halfway to Kagome's lips when all the bar's noises abruptly ceased. The silence was so unexpected that her arm froze in midair, and the sudden stop caused some whiskey to slosh over the side of her glass. Without knowing why, she drew in a shuddering breath.

Although Omoidasu was absent of the boisterous noise that usually accompanied a bar, there was always a steady hum in the background that signified subtle chatter. It was this common fact that compelled Kagome to lean away from the corner and peek at what had caused the bar to fall so deathly silent.

She had never thought it would be possible to become sober in the span of a single breath, but all side effects of the whiskey vanished as soon as she saw the familiar form standing in the dim doorway. His inhuman beauty took her breath away, and Kagome could hear the appreciative hush fall over the other patrons as his features were illuminated.

As if in a trance, she watched him as he stepped further into the bar until she could just make out the golden glow of his eyes and the faint shadow under his cheekbones, where he concealed his regal markings with makeup. A wistful peacefulness seemed to envelop her and Kagome rested her chin on her hand, feeling better by only the mere sight of him.

That was something months of whiskey had never accomplished.

She might've been content to simply sit there forever and admire him, but the spell he held over her immediately vanished when Hito appeared in her field of vision. The absurd contrast of the stout bartender next to _him_ snapped her out of her reverie, and she remembered all that he had done to her and how much she should hate him.

It was at that moment that he stepped directly under the light. Every pale feature was now visible for her scrutiny, and Kagome watched intently as his nose began to twitch. With growing horror, she realized that he was absorbing the scents, sifting through them until he could isolate the one he was searching for. And then…

He suddenly looked at her, and his gaze was so intense that Kagome slunk back to the dark corner with fresh tears streaming down her face, gasping for air that suddenly seemed much to thin.

When she felt a presence hovering over her there was no doubt of who it could be. Even without looking up she could_ feel_ him, and goose bumps began to break out on her arms from the little energy he was exuding. It was amazing to think that he had had to restrain that vast power for centuries, and still it was no less potent or deadly.

Kagome inhaled shakily and realized that she could now smell him; a deep, masculine scent of pine and rain that had always lingered in his pillow. How many times had she buried her face in that pillow, inhaling to the point of pain just to have one last breath of him?

She trembled at the sudden memory. His very presence was clouding her mind; intoxicating her more thoroughly than any liquor ever had and evoking memories better left forgotten. In her desperation she bit down on her tongue and the intense pain briefly cleared her head of him. She tasted blood, and that was when she heard him shift.

It was a small movement, and if it had been anyone else Kagome may not have noticed. But she knew him as the resolute warrior he had been in the past, and not even during all of Naraku's terrible displays of power had he ever moved until the first attack was made.

Never before had he behaved this way around her. His aura, usually no more than a gentle weight on her skin was suddenly electrifying; charged with a tension reserved only for battle and making her hair stand on end.

He was acting as if he were a disobedient child waiting anxiously for his impending punishment. It seemed silly, comparing him to an unruly child, but maybe that was how he simply viewed his unfaithfulness to her. And perhaps he expected her to direct her resentment at him and make him completely aware of exactly how miserable she had been ever since he had broken her heart.

Or perhaps he was offering her one last chance at some type of closure.

Of course it would be a hopeless attempt, because without him there would never be that old steadfastness she used to possess. The only resolve she held anymore was to think of him as little as possible. But his life certainly hadn't ended without her, so maybe he was the one that really needed this closure.

Kagome would still do anything for him, and if her memory was holding him back and causing him guilt, then she could find the strength to look into his eyes long enough to lie and tell him she didn't hurt anymore.

Before she could rethink her decision, Kagome lifted her head and stared right into his golden eyes; eyes that she still saw whenever she closed her own. And his name, which she had once vowed never to speak again, dripped like honey from her lips.

"Sesshoumaru."


End file.
