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Stolen Seasons by Ladymage Samiko

Solitary Stars

Stolen Seasons

Solitary Stars

Lm. Samiko

     The night was quiet and cool, with only the slightest of breezes to disturb the silence and carry information to an inu youkai's sensitive nose. Under its influence, Sesshoumaru grew calm, relaxing even as he strode through the dense woodland, his feet following the invisible trails of their own accord as his senses reveled in the peaceful atmosphere. If he could be made to admit such things, Sesshoumaru would have said that such nights pleased him the most. There was nothing to annoy him, nothing to detract from the enjoyment of his own lands, each noise and scent carrying a thousand messages of 'home'.

     A single note jarred this quiet symphony, causing the youkai to frown. A human was here, in this place, where humans seldom came. The cringing beasts knew not to disturb the highlands, lest they suffer an unknown and presumably terrifying fate. Sesshoumaru followed the scent of human--human female--upwards to a barren escarpment. A strange place to find a human under any circumstances.

     She was sitting upon a rock close to the sheer edge of the rock face, looking out into the distance. He could not see her face, but that was unnecessary. The thick, unbound hair, the distinctive white and forest-green clothing, the slight musk of human overlaid by the sharp, harsh scent of what he would centuries later recognize as chemicals from soap and shampoo. This was the woman--for a woman she had become over the course of several years--who kept company with his brother. His nose wrinkled slightly as the breeze once again carried the almost painful chemicals to him, but this time he noticed, underneath it, the smell of recent tears.

     He gave a mental shrug. Here was neither threat nor interest, only a small annoyance at having his solitude broken. Sesshoumaru made to turn and walk away when he caught a glimpse of something the human held in her arms. With a cat-like curiosity, the youkai stalked closer. The purpose of the thing became no clearer.

     "Woman." He merely watched as the woman yelped and whirled, nearly dumping herself off the rock. He noticed that instead of releasing the thing, she clutched it closer in her fright. "Woman," he repeated, "why do you hold a false animal in your arms?" She made no attempt to answer, merely gaping at the figure before her. He noted that after the first sharp spike following his words, her scent carried no fear. "I will not repeat myself, woman."

     She blinked and seemed to make some attempt to collect herself. "He comforts me," she said simply.

     "Foolishness," Sesshoumaru replied, just as simply.

     "Well, excuse me for being a measly human being!" she cried out. "What's wrong with having something to love that will never betray you?"

     "This." Before her pale senses could even detect his movement, Sesshoumaru snatched the thing from her hands, noting in passing its odd material, and sliced the head from the body with a single claw, dumping the dismembered pieces to the ground. The glassy eyes and thread mouth of the fake bear stared blankly up at the starry sky.

     There was silence as the woman walked over and gathered up the head and body of the thing, dusting them off carefully, cradling them against her chest. She seemingly ignored him as she resumed her seat on the rock. When she finally broke the stillness, the sound of her voice, low and mournful, startled the youkai.

     "You have so much power, Sesshoumaru," she said, "power to destroy, but it is an easy power to obtain. The power to heal, to create... It is so much more difficult. But perhaps, such a thing is beyond a youkai's understanding... or ability. Even with your Tenseiga... You think it useless. And all any of you do is destroy..."

     Humans were confidant about innumerable misconceptions; this woman was no exception. And it could not possibly be worth the time and effort it would take to dissuade her of her idiotic notions. It was, perhaps, his consciousness of Tenseiga's warm aura at his side that prompted a final comment before he drifted back into the forest.

     "Tenseiga is not useless, woman."

     He did not look back and so did not see the wide-eyed stare the woman wore upon her face as she searched for one who was no longer there.

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This story is dedicated to my plush rabbit, who has been a loyal and much beloved companion for many years. He also provided the initial inspiration for this series. Many thanks, my friend. Stolen Seasons will be a series of two page independent scenes. It is essentially complete, so you may expect reasonably regular updates as time goes on. Thank you, enjoy, and please, review! --Lm. Samiko

INUYASHA © Rumiko Takahashi/Shogakukan • Yomiuri TV • Sunrise 2000
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