InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Four Seasons ❯ Autumn -- Selfish, Cold, & Composed ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
Disclaimer: The Inuyasha concept, storyline, and characters are copyright Rumiko Takahashi and Viz Media

Author’s Note: It is highly recommended that you listen to the songs on which these chapters are based. Links are available at the author’s notes entry for this piece on my LJ.

“Selfless, Cold, & Composed” © 1997 Ben Folds (Ben Folds Five)


Sesshoumaru stood in the middle of the room, surveying it with a careful eye. It was hard to believe such a small space could somehow contain the contents of a person’s entire life. Boxes were piled against the walls, some open, some not. A curio cabinet stood proudly across from the door, displaying awards and achievements, from school, from social activities.

He was surprised the thing was still standing, considering his father’s reaction to it all.

But then, maybe his father was as used to death as he was by now.

For a moment, he regressed; if he closed his eyes, he was a little boy again, looking up wide-eyed from the door of his parents’ room, where his father was curled beside his mother in their gigantic bed, stroking her hair softly, silent tears sliding down his cheeks.

His first brush with death…yet unfortunately, not his last.

He had been surprised, then angry, when his father remarried so soon after his mother’s death. Maybe it was only fitting that Inuyasha had been such a sickly kid, some sort of twisted punishment from the gods. When he was younger, he’d harbored such resentment toward his half-brother. It was only to be expected, really; he had been just a kid himself. It seemed he went from one traumatic experience to another in some never-ending loop: first his mother left him; then his father betrayed him; and then his father had another kid who demanded all his attention.

Was it any wonder he’d turned into the person he was today? “Selfish, cold, and composed” – that’s what everyone called him.

What a joke, he mused as he looked around the room. One life wasted, one life ruined. Dad must be so proud…

“Sesshoumaru?”

He closed his eyes again briefly, pursing his lips as he composed his thoughts. This was the moment he had been trying to prepare for since his brother’s death. He cleared his throat and pivoted, letting his gaze fall to the woman who stood not three feet away, her hand clasped around the doorknob.

“Kagome.”

It had been eight years since he’d seen her, and time had been most kind to her. She’d been a very pretty girl in high school, and she’d only blossomed in the ensuing years. A bit more world-weary, maybe; jaded from 20 straight years of schooling, definitely –but then, didn’t everyone carry those signs of weariness after graduating from university?

She stood with her back straight, her hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, her clothes adequately sedate, given the occasion. She looked at him directly, without fear, something he’d always appreciated about her.

“It’s been a long time,” she began, stepping forward.

He turned on his heel, giving her his back. “Why don’t we skip this?” he suggested, moving toward the curio cabinet.

Anything to put a little more space between them.

He heard the soft click of her shoes as she followed him into the room. “Okay,” she said abruptly.

He turned his head slightly, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. She stood awkwardly, her eyes sliding across the mountains of boxes, memories reflecting on her face as she took it all in. “I’m sorry,” she murmured in a heartfelt tone.

He snapped back to attention, focusing his gaze beyond on the window beyond the cabinet. The last leaves of autumn were losing their battle; they stubbornly clung to the tree branches, but it seemed their grip was weakening. Soon enough, they’d join their brethren on the ground…to be swept up and burned, or crunched under heavy boots.

Disposed of…quite like he’d been, once upon a time.

He hated autumn.

Kagome’s voice broke him from his thoughts. “You’ve done me no favor to call and be nice,” she mused out loud.

He turned to face her again. “It was the least I could do, considering your history.”

She gave a little shrug, reaching for an open box. When she withdrew a bright red t-shirt, she smiled sadly. “Considering our history.”

His heart skipped a beat at the implication of her words. He thought eight years was plenty of time to bury the past, but with those three little words, she undid all of that hard work.

“He loved you,” he said, folding his hands behind his back as he watched her. “He said, ‘Let her have anything she wants. It’s all hers, anyway.’” He paused as his brother’s dying wish came back to him. After so many years of fighting illnesses, Inuyasha seemed almost content to finally face death. ‘She made me who I am today.’

She hugged the shirt close to her body as she stared down into the box. “He had a funny way of showing it,” she muttered.

Sesshoumaru shrugged. “He was just a kid,” he replied. “You know how hard his life was. I suppose that was his way of rebelling.”

She gave a bitter laugh. “Did he have to rebel against me, too?” she asked. “He could’ve been there for me, instead of…” She allowed her thought to trail off, glancing up at him guiltily.

Instead of me, he finished silently, returning her gaze impassively. “He didn’t know how to deal with it. He wasn’t mature enough to handle the situation in any other way.” He paused, debating how much to reveal. “He always regretted that, though – hurting you that way.”

She crossed her arms tightly across her chest. “I guess this is his way of making up for that?”

Sesshoumaru dropped one shoulder in a half-shrug. “I suppose. He never got over you.” Neither did I.

She nodded slowly, letting her attention wander back down to the boxes. She poked through a few of them, some of the objects bringing traces of smiles to her face…but for the most part, it seemed to upset her more than anything else.

After awhile, he had to look away again. Being in her presence was harder than he’d expected. All the old emotions began to tumble through him – worry, fear, jealousy, possessiveness, guilt – and it was beginning to turn his stomach.

Why did his stupid fucking brother have to be such a hapless romantic? Why was it that he was in charge of this whole business of giving away his brother’s possessions, instead of his father? Why, why, why had the fates conspired to put him back in this ever-uncomfortable situation?

“How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine,” he said tonelessly. He looked out the window again, noting that another leaf had lost the struggle and fallen to the ground.

He could feel her eyes boring into his back. “Is that true?” she questioned. “Or are you saying that because you think that’s what I want to hear?”

He looked back sharply, narrowing a cold glare that had once been his signature. “I don’t lie,” he stated, his voice strident.

He realized a beat too late that his reaction was too harsh, too defensive to bring an end to her line of questioning. She advanced toward him, one hand reaching out. “Sesshoumaru, you don’t owe me to be so polite,” she said softly. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“Hmph,” he grunted, folding his arms across his chest.

Anything to keep her from touching him.

Her expression never changed; it seemed she was going to charge forward with sympathy, whether he liked it or not. “You’ve done no wrong, Sess,” she continued, dropping his childhood nickname for the first time since…

A growl rose in his throat; his arms tightened their brace. “Don’t patronize me,” he retorted.

He could tell the moment she realized what she’d done. The memory had been invoked unconsciously; nonetheless, it lingered between them.

She twisted the shirt in her hands as she regarded him. “You know, we never really talked about that day,” she began. “I never got to thank you for what you did for me.”

Her words, meant to soothe, only stoked his anger. I was always your afterthought, he griped silently. “Don’t worry about it,” he said in a clipped tone. “I’m quite used to being thought of as disposable.”

She closed her eyes and heaved an annoyed sigh. “Sess, please – ” she tried again.

“Get out,” he ground out.

Her jaw dropped. “Sesshoumaru!”

He felt his blood pressure rising. He didn’t want to face this, not here, not now. He’d long ago buried this little piece of resentment – for her sake, for his sake, for Inuyasha’s sake. It was better to let sleeping dogs lie at this point.

“Do you have what you want of his?” he asked her, his tone indicating he didn’t care whether she was finished or not.

She stared back at him, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly agape. He watched as she swallowed convulsively, finally appearing to get the hint that he wanted to drop the subject. “Yes,” she answered.

“Then leave,” he directed.

For a moment, he thought she would defy him; he saw the determination bloom across her features, but it was quickly chased away by resignation.

She gave a small nod. “It was nice to see you again,” she said.

He couldn’t respond, so he merely stared.

She searched his face for a moment, her shoulders drooping as she realized he wasn’t going to reply in kind. “I’ll see you,” she murmured, turning away.

He was rooted in place, his entire being absolutely rigid, as he watched her quietly leave the room.