The Butterfly Legend by MissTeak

The Butterfly Legend

I do not own Inuyasha or any of its characters.

A/N: Here’s my entry for Prompt 3, Butterfly, from Nisou Tenshi’s 14 Symbol Challenge. I’ve explored Kagome’s psyche as a devoted lover on many occasions, but what if it was Sesshoumaru, with his silent, dark heart?

As always, it is set in a traditional Japanese setting though the context of the butterfly legend is closer to the Chinese one.

I keep writing drama and angst. Sigh.

14 Symbol Challenge, Prompt 3: Butterfly

This is a particularly popular Asian symbol. For the Japanese two butterflies symbolized conjugal happiness but a single butterfly signifies a vain woman or a hard to please mistress. In China the butterfly symbolized happiness, immortality, and endless leisure. When shown with a chrysanthemum it symbolizes beauty in old age, and when shown with a plum it symbolizes long life. For the Aztecs butterflies symbolized fire, the souls of dead warriors, and unfortunate women who died in childbirth.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

“If this Sesshoumaru cannot have you, then no one can.”

His whisper was tender as it reverberated in the silence of his darkened chambers, just like the fluttering wings of a newly emerging butterfly.

In a display of obsessive passion, the demon’s love had metamorphosized.

What used to be a silent, resilient love which resembled the chrysalis of a butterfly had evolved, discarding its old, unsightly shell to become something so much more vibrant yet sadistically deadly. It simply made him detest butterflies all the more – those tales of undying devotion, immortality and conjugal bliss which he had heard as a child resting on his mother’s lap were falsities created by hopeless, lovesick individuals. His mother had been a firm believer of such beautiful lies, only to end up being proved utterly wrong in her beliefs with his father’s hea rtless abandonment.

A woman who had been cast aside by her husband lived with humiliation in their society. Then what made a man who had been cast aside by his lover? It was humiliation beyond the greatest humiliation. He had never been in the position to receive any form of disrespect from any being, yet Fate had to play a joke on him by making him the victim of a heartless woman.

Someone had once told him that should a butterfly visit one’s chambers and lands on the shoji screen, it was said that one’s lover would be arriving soon.

The butterfly was not a mere insect which had wandered into unfamiliar territory; legend had it that it was the alternative form taken up by a soul which was soon leaving its mortal shell, making use of the ability to fly and travel to see to its final wishes before departing for the realm of the dead.

Still, it was oddly tragic to dance and linger in the painful living world without a voice, unable to express anything more than simply being present. The desperate words of longing weighed heavily on the glittery wings of the butterfly, locking the creature within the sufferings of the living world.

Such bittersweet fanciful tales did nothing to soothe his hurting soul. He did not need legends and folklore to comfort him. All he needed and wanted was for Kagome to be his, yet that was probably the only thing he could never have.

He had loved her ever since they were children, yet this pure love within his dark heart was defeated so cruelly by her selfish desire for material luxuries and glory.

Being the son of a feudal lord, he had met her, the daughter of a famed physician when the little girl accompanied her father to his castle to tend to the injuries his father had sustained on the battlefield. He had merely been a young child back then, and had been terribly unsettled by the knowledge of his seemingly invincible father being so grievously wounded in battle. For a moment, young Sesshoumaru had genuinely believed that his great sire was going to succumb to those hideously horrifying wounds.

While he had been keeping vigil outside his father’s chambers, kneeling outside the shoji door on the gravelly stepping stones leading out to the courtyard, a little hand holding out a paper balloon had come into his field of vision.

“Let’s play.”

The voice reminded him of the clear, sparkling streams which meandered down to earth from the majestic Fuji Mountain. Looking up, he had been greeted by a sweet, angelic visage. Her eyes were crinkled invitingly, and her tiny mouth was set in an encouraging, optimistic smile.

“You must be Sesshoumaru, son of the great Inu no Taisho. My name is Kagome, and I am the daughter of Higurashi Soushi, the physician. Shall we play?”

“That would not be appropriate. Father is very gravely injured, and-”

“My father will save him, believe me. You would only be adding to your father’s worries if you remain unhappy.” The little girl pointed out, pushing the colorful paper balloon further in his direction in an open invitation for him to play with her. “Besides, you can do nothing but wait.”

Reluctantly, he had allowed her to lead him into the courtyard before she merrily threw the paper balloon up into the air and smacked it with her palm to send it flying over to him. Catching the paper balloon with his hand, Sesshoumaru had served it back in her direction, and it wasn’t long before a competitive glint had lit his eyes up. His eyes had practically glowed like firefly lights in the gloomy darkness of the castle’s courtyard.

He realized that this little girl was trying to make the agonizing wait a lot more bearable for him. Of course, it could be said that she was trying to help her father in a way, but she was definitely helping him as well by offering to play and take his mind off his father’s critical condition.

Laughter soon came into their simple game, and it was then when a majestic peacock butterfly fluttered by ominously from the direction of Inu no Taisho’s chambers into the courtyard, as if ready to ride on the rising night winds. No longer caring if the paper balloon was going to fall to the ground on his turn, Sesshoumaru had stared at the butterfly with widened eyes, taking in the way the great reddish-brown wings fluttered ominously.

He knew what it meant; the departure of a butterfly from the chambers of a dying person could only mean one thing. What he had thought to be nothing more than a legend might just become true, and the abrupt sense of loss which had overwhelmed him then was great, rendering the young demon pup unable to do anything. Not only was he struck by the sorrow of losing the fatherly figure and role model in his life, young Sesshoumaru had also been overwhelmed by fear and uncertainty. For if Inu no Taisho had passed away, the burden of leading their armies and fulfilling the duties of a lord would practically collapse onto his young shoulders.

“What are you waiting for??”

The cries of his little playmate shook him out of his reverie, and it was then when he realized that she was no longer standing opposite him. She must have heard about the legend as well, for Kagome was now desperately chasing after the peacock butterfly, reaching out with a tiny palm to swipe repeatedly at the air above her in a bid to reach the insect.

“We have to stop it from flying away,” She explained urgently, as if Sesshoumaru did not already know that the butterfly most probably symbolized his father’s departing soul. “Quick, give me a hand!”

Together, the young ones gave chase, keeping their heads held high to keep the magnificent creature within sight while reaching out with their small palms as they leapt and stretched.

Finally, Kagome’s fingertips managed to brush against the butterfly, causing the creature to stagger awkwardly in its flight to give Sesshoumaru the perfect opportunity to cup his hands around it. Alas, his hands were not large enough to contain the peacock butterfly, and just as he was fretting, another pair of little hands covered his to trap the creature effectively.

With a bright, grateful smile which he had never shown anyone in his entire life, Sesshoumaru looked up to see his facial expression mirrored on Kagome’s sweet visage as both children stood perfectly still with the butterfly contained within their connected palms. The majestic creature had been fluttering wildly within their combined hold, creating a rather strange sensation which urged their instincts to remove their palms and give it its freedom.

“Do not let go, Sesshoumaru-kun. You do know of the legend, don’t you?”

“Aa.” He had answered with renewed determination at the sight of it swimming within Kagome’s sparkling eyes.

Till daybreak, that had been the position the children remained in. Both were terribly tired and had dreadful aches in their arms, but neither had relinquished their hold on the peacock butterfly trapped within the cage created by their combined palms. As he watched her stifle another yawn, Sesshoumaru could not help but wonder just why this little girl was so kind as to help him in this way – the injured patient was his father, not hers. She had nothing to gain from going all out to help him, yet she was doing so without complaining.

It was then when one of the healers who had been helping Kagome’s father with tending to Inu no Taisho’s wounds came running out into the courtyard.

“My young lord, the Great General is out of danger! He has survived this ordeal!”

Elated smiles broke out on the youngsters’ faces upon receiving the good news. With encouraging nods exchanged, they carefully pried their hands apart, intending to reveal the peacock butterfly which they had trapped between their palms the night before. Kagome lifted her palms, allowing her arms to fall limply by her side, only to gasp in shock when Sesshoumaru’s palms revealed…nothing.

Gone was the majestic creature which had fluttered wildly within the confines of their palms, despite them never providing an escape route for the butterfly throughout the lengthy wait.

The butterfly had disappeared into thin air.

There was simply no logical explanation of any sort.

Concluding that there was no purpose in harping on an explanation for the mysterious disappearance of the butterfly, the children simply focused on their joy. Their efforts and determination had paid off after all, no matter if the legend was really true or not. Inu no Taisho was safe and that was all Sesshoumaru needed to know. In his happiness and relief, the young demon lord had thanked the little girl.

“Thank you.”

Little Kagome had shaken her head as if she had not done much for him, replying, “I am so glad we’ve managed to help your father, Sesshoumaru-kun!”

From that moment, he had decided that she was to be his for eternity.

She had to be, for he would accept no other arrangement.

Yet it did not turn out to be so.

For she was now a thousand miles away from his prefecture, resting within a fancy royal chamber filled with the most precious treasures and luxuries, enjoying her life in the capital as one of the Emperor’s concubines. On top of that, he was well aware of the fact that she was heavily pregnant with the Emperor’s child, and might have even given birth.

The demon lord never knew that she had agreed to be one of the Emperor’s concubines simply because she had no choice but to do so. Her father, Higurashi Soushi, for all the lives he had saved in his years of practicing as a physician, had failed to save the life of the infant Crown Prince from pneumonia.

Despite having fancied the lovely daughter of the Imperial Physician for a long time, the Emperor had ordered the execution of the aged physician in a fit of rage and anguish, much to Kagome’s distress. In order to save her father’s life, Kagome had sought audience with the Emperor, taking advantage of the fact that the latter had always fancied her. Offering herself in exchange for her father’s life, Kagome gave herself to the Emperor in marriage, pledging to bear him heirs to make up for her father’s inability to save the Crown Prince.

Love might be important to her, but filial piety was equally if not more so. If sacrificing herself could save her father, she would do so without regrets.

Hurting yet unable to reveal a hint of sorrow, Kagome had cruelly broken off her betrothal with Sesshoumaru. She had refused to meet him in person to provide any form of explanation, and had only written a simple letter stating that she had no longer held feelings for him in any way. Heartlessly, she had claimed that there was no way a union between a demon and a human could turn out fruitful and blissful in any way.

Imagine his immense shock and hurt when the letter arrived mercilessly on horseback when he was out fighting on a battlefield. Sesshoumaru had been baffled, furious and devastated to say the least, yet was helpless about the situation for he had more pressing matters on his hand. Finally, when the adversaries had been vanquished and he returned to the capital with his army to report the victory to the Emperor, did he realize that the woman whom he had loved so steadfastly and was cast aside so callously by was now married to the Emperor.

His Kagome had become an imperial concubine, and would never be his until the day they both died.

His opportunity to speak to her arrived at last on a night of the waning moon; the Emperor had thrown a banquet to celebrate their victory in battle against the barbarians, and that was when Sesshoumaru had managed to intercept her palanquin to demand to speak to her.

Even so, their difference in their statuses now forbade them from doing anything else but talk through the silk veil shielding the entrance to the palanquin. All he could make out were the faint outline of her slender silhouette, and the prominent bulge at her abdomen which signified her final act of betrayal of his trust and affections.

Anguished, he had questioned if he had meant anything to her, only to receive a callous ‘no’ for an answer.

“Kagome, leave this place with me. I’ll take you away to a place where no one can ever find us.”

“No. We are not fated to be together, Lord Sesshoumaru. Please forget about me.”

He had protested upon hearing those words, unwilling to accept such a flimsy excuse.

“You can never give me what he gives me.” She had whispered from the other side of the silk veil, knowing that her softly spoken words were more vicious than the poison held within his claws. This was bound to deter him from asking further.

But Kagome had been right in her own reasoning; it was just that Sesshoumaru had failed to consider that there could have been more to her words. To the devastated demon lord, it was the final blow. He could not believe that the girl he had loved since he was a child had given him up for the material luxuries and status.

In continuation to those unfeeling words, Kagome had silently wept in her heart. “You can never give me the loneliness which he gives me…”

Such words could only remain in the safety of her heart, where they would never be heard by anyone. Kagome knew very well that this was a path she had chosen for herself, and there was no one to blame, nothing to regret and most definitely not one on which she could retrace her steps. Bearing the royal child of the Emperor was part of the deal which she had to fulfill; the Emperor had shown her father benevolence, and as a daughter, it was her duty to repay that debt.

Finally, on one chilly autumn night, Kagome went into labor.

Unfortunately for her, her first pregnancy had been terribly difficult, and the labor was definitely nowhere easier in any way.

After many hours of grueling, excruciating labor, Kagome had managed to give birth to a healthy baby boy. She had been delighted to see her child; it was a strong, innocent life in which the combined blood of the Emperor and her own flowed. He would grow up to be a magnificent young man for sure, and would be a fitting heir to the empire.

She could finally breathe a sigh of relief. She had fulfilled her end of the deal.

Sadly, the difficult labor and the complications involved had taken their toll on her body. She was terribly weakened, and even though the physicians and midwives had expected her to recover steadily, she was showing no signs of getting better. It was not as if she could not do so; it was more like she did not even want to do so.

That was when a certain demon lord residing a thousand miles away started having a nightly visitor in his chambers.

Every night without fail, a delicate blue morpho butterfly visited his chambers. Dancing on the silvery night winds, it descended from the moonlit heavens to rest upon the edge of his shoji screen as he went about his deskbound duties as a lord. With its wings gleaming iridescent blue in the faint candlelight, the butterfly would simply accompany the demon lord into the wee hours of the morning as he battled his insomnia by piling work onto himself.

Silently, it stayed with him throughout the nights, observing the demon lord go through scrolls and scrolls of official documents and how he had the habit of writing poetry with his stunning calligraphy skills. Every flowery phrase brought to life by the tip of his writing brush and ink betrayed deep longing and sorrow within the otherwise bold and confident handwriting.

He had noticed the creature, but paid no heed to it. After all, it was said that butterflies which flew in at night to land on shoji screens symbolized lovers who were coming back.

That was such a foolish, groundless lie, he had thought bitterly. The love of his life had left, and could never be coming back.

The butterfly would leave in the morning when the first ray of dawn peeped through the tiny gaps in the fibers of the shoji doors.

On the seventh night since its appearance, the lovely creature came to him again. As if emboldened, it did not remain at its usual spot at the shoji screen. Rather, it ventured further and flew closer to the demon lord to land on the edge of the parchment on which he was writing.

“The emotions of love run deep, connecting after breaking.

We are fated to separate before I can even curse the hurt of separation.

How could the Heavens fail to understand something as simple as love, Kagome?”

“This Sesshoumaru will never let you go, Kagome. He will pursue you, to the ends of the world, to the heavenly realms, to the darkest pits of hell and even to the end of the reincarnation wheel.”

The butterfly’s wings fluttered once, but it remained on the very same spot where he had written the final characters かごめ (Kagome) on the parchment. The ink was still drying by the faint glow of the candlelight, reflecting light off certain angles as the fibers of the parchment languidly sipped the ink in to seal the demon’s penned emotions for eternity.

“Kagome…this Sesshoumaru has tried to bend you to his will, but if you will not allow yourself to be bent…” He whispered again, his baritone voice echoing with a light huskiness.

“…then you shall be broken.”

As those words took flight from his parted lips to dance into inexistence on the voyeuristic night winds, he reached out with a blinding flash of demonic speed to wrap those deadly claws around the unsuspecting butterfly. How innocent it looked in its breathtaking beauty…he mused. It was a shame he was no longer able to appreciate beauty.

Enveloped in the prison of fatally powerful fingers, the delicate creature did not stand a chance.

Chances were given, and for that, the receiver had to deserve them.

Unfortunately, the demon lord was not feeling quite benevolent. His dark soul had been tainted beyond salvation by his obsessive possessiveness and his pain at having been left behind.

As if knowing that the end was near, yet oddly at peace, the butterfly’s wings did not even flutter. In fact, not once did it display any signs of intending to escape the demon’s hold.

“If I were to die, it would be the greatest privilege to die by your hands.”

“You lie…” His heart seethed with anguished hatred, slashing at any bits of sanity and rationality which he might had retained. “…Kagome.”

“No matter where I am, I will always find a way to come back to you. Remember that, Lord Sesshoumaru.”

“Liar!” His pained heart screamed repeatedly, still unable to ignore the rush of warmth elicited by the mere recollection of the words she had once said to him many years ago, yet powerless against the rush of emotions which fed his rage. Mental images of her living a new life happily with the Emperor, whispering sweet nothings as she warmed his bed at night, writhing in pleasure as the man took her over and over again, made him see red. The other end of the spectrum of love was hatred – still so intense and fierce, yet entirely different.

He closed his eyes, shielding pained gold from the rest of the world, recalling the night when he had first met her. The five colors of the paper balloon in her hand painted the backdrop of his recollections…he could hear the encouragement within her voice as she urged him to cheer up…he saw how they had chased the butterfly believed to be his father’s soul, and how they had pressed the edges of their palms together to prevent the butterfly from flying away, saving his father from certain death.

Such beautiful memories were now fading into a drab gray background.

All had been said, and all had been done. She now belonged to another, and his undying love for her would go unrequited.

He was just like her, he decided sadistically, too wounded to reflect on his own thoughts. She could bring herself to be so cruel to him, just like how he could do the same.

He was no saint.

In fact, he had never been one.

He had only attempted to be one for her sake.

Clawed fingers flexed and tightened around the spectacular yet fragile frame of the Blue Morpho butterfly, obliterating the beauty with a force summoned by immense agony and fanatical love.

The mangled remains of the breathtakingly mesmerizing creature fluttered from the parted fingers of the demon to collapse soundlessly against the parchment, still resting by the three hiragana characters of a certain lady’s name.

Equally silent, a drop of salty moisture joined the morbidly beautiful mixture of colored mess which used to be the butterfly. It seeped into the parchment, blurring her name as if it was afraid that others might lay eyes upon her. The name was for his memory alone.

Even till the end, his love was still selfish.

A thousand miles away, fearful and pained screams pierced the tranquil night as maidservants tending to the sleeping maiden realized that her slow, labored breathing was no more. Imperial physicians who had rushed in upon hearing of the shocking discovery made by the maidservants were beyond astonished to discover that all the internal organs of the lovely imperial concubine had been crushed, causing massive bleeding from within to lead to an inevitable demise.

There was simply no logical explanation for that.

Yet lying motionless on her futon, her slumbering visage was serene. Amidst the heart-wrenching cries of maidservants, an infant of a few days old wailed at the top of his lungs in the background for its lifeless mother.

The only sign which betrayed her discomfort in her final moment was the trail of crimson which oozed from the side of her mouth. The stream of red slid down the length of her lifeless cheek down to her ear lobe where it stained the pristine white pillow, but the ghost of a smile nonetheless lingered on her bluish lips.

The legend of the butterfly was real after all.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

The End.