Last to Fall by Mynameishuman

Something Wicked

And all of the horses

And all of the men

Won’t put it back in place

Or bury it where it had been

When all of the forces

Have been overrun

You’ll whisper, serpent tongue

What you fear, you have become

Something wicked this way comes

~

Something Wicked

 

Her blood was everywhere. It seemed to cover every surface his eyes landed upon.

Sesshomaru wouldn’t be so horrified if not for whose blood it was.

Thoughtlessly, he rushed toward her, slipping in the congealed fluid. Leather clad feet became tangled in his mother’s blood-soaked fur and he fell to his knees barely catching himself on open palms.

The chilled blood soaking into his hakama, his hands, the ends of his hair didn’t register as his eyes took in his mother’s mutilated body, displayed in such a suggestive manner that his blood boiled.

How did this happen?

Sesshomaru tried to rise. Ran a bloodied hand through his silver hair. Streaked it vermilion. He stared blankly at his hands as they began to shake.

How did this happen?

He looked at his mother again with glazed, gilded eyes. At the blood dried on her pale face. Blood she must have choked on, coughed up.

He, himself, began to choke. To cough bright red blood as he gasped for air.

He was drowning.

On the scent of his mother’s death. On the bitter acid of his own blood.

He clawed his throat, desperate for breath as the room began to spin.

He needed to breathe. He just needed to breathe!

“-sama, calm down!”

Sesshomaru’s eyes shot open, a deep, predatory growl reverberating through his chest.

A clawed hand shot out, roughly grabbing solid flesh. His claws pierced through cloth, through skin, but he didn’t care, still lost in the hell he’d pulled himself from. Still fighting to understand. To survive. To breathe.

A small hand grasped his tightly, trying to pry him off but he held on tighter as his breathing evened out, eyes adjusted, senses cleared.

“Sesshomaru-sama, you’re safe, but you need to let me go. You’re hurting me.”

The tang of blood registered at the same moment as her words and he turned his head, finding blue eyes peering down at him.

The miko?

It was a nightmare, then?

Retracting his hand, his fingers, his claws from where they’d penetrated the skin at her hip, he observed her for a moment, trying to grasp his bearings. He took a breath to clear the fog from his mind. It didn’t help much.

“Where am I?” He asked, his voice raspy from disuse. “Inuyasha’s village?”

“Your little minions brought you,” she said with a nod, watching him closely. “The kappa, and the dragon.”

That explained why he laid upon a futon in what he presumed was her home.

“How long?”

How long have I been here?

She hesitated a moment. A moment he noticed despite his fog-addled brain.

“Not long,” she said, her eyes falling to his chest – which he only then realized was bared. “I was about to change your –.”

“Where are my clothes, miko?”

Her eyes met his again and she sighed, watching him almost warily.

“Sesshomaru-sama,” she began, hesitantly, her eyes watching him so closely his skin prickled, hair standing on end. “What happened to you?”

Memories played in his mind and his stomach clenched. He glared at the miko – for her prying, for his circumstances, for his splitting headache, for evading his questions.

He pushed himself upright, and immediately wished he hadn’t. The room spun. Spots grew in his vision and his ears rang.

“Don’t try to –!” Her hands were upon him instantly. Gentle, he thought, but strong as she attempted to press him back down. “You’ve been injured, Sesshomaru-sama. You need to rest.”

A cold sweat broke against his brow and his stomach roiled.

He clapped a hand over his mouth and white-hot pain, like lightning, shot through his arm and chest.

Sesshomaru felt the blood drain from his face, right before – to his complete horror – he emptied his stomach onto the miko’s lap.

Her resigned sigh was the last thing he heard before the world went dark.

•••••

AN: A maybe unconventional dedication here. Though they’ll never know it, I am dedicating this fic to the only band for which I’ll ever buy VIP tickets more than once. The only band who has consistently, without fail, enthralled, enticed and enchanted me with their creative way with words and sounds.

Starset’s music is an intimation and symphony of clever compositions, magnetic demonstrations and penetrating narratives.

If you haven’t already, I implore you to go and check them out. I hope they can change your world as they’ve changed mine. A verse from their songs will head each chapter of this story, and each chapter will thus be titled after the song.

Starset: this is for you, for sharing your knowledge, and for inspiring me from the very first moment.

 

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