Unclenched by md06783

Chapter 1

AN: I got my inspiration for this story from this manikin wearing these sexy, v-necked camisa shirt and low-ride drawstring pants—very beach wear. The image of a sunset on a beach immediately came to mind. I saw Sesshoumaru at the end of a line of footprints on the sand, gazing out at the sunset with his hair being whipped wildly by the wind. Thereafter, the image continued to plague me. I see Technoelfie's Sesshoumaru in my mind everywhere I go. Then one breakfast, the story just jumped me out of nowhere and I'm not one for ignoring my muse. So I immediately grabbed a pen and some paper and started writing it out. So here it is after much revision and editing. A shout-out to all of the people in my favorites' gallery in dA. You guys are awesome and inspiring. Your works have tided me over during the revisions and re-writing of this story. Keep up the excellent work guys!

Please read and review. Criticisms and suggestions will be appreciated. I am actually planning on having a sort of pre-sequel or 'epi-sequel' to this—either how they got together or how they end up together again. I already have a rough outline for both but I am thinking doing a combination. I don't know. But for the meantime, feedback on Unclenched will be duly appreciated.

UNCLENCHED

1

He stood alone.                                      

On the sandy stretch of a deserted beach with his long, flowing, silver hair whipping wildly with the wind stood the powerful Taiyoukai of the West. He held his face against the wind, taking in the last comforting scent of the sun into his cold soul. The salty sea air stinging his flawlessly pale skin.

It was times such as these that he allowed himself to remember her.

He is the very picture of solitude and strength. His loose-fitted, white shirt opened to the waist flapping with the wind, revealed a beautifully toned chest. It was not muscular. But sleek, lean and feline in its perfection. Always ready to spring and pounce at the slightest provocation.

'Fatally attractive.' He heard her voice describe him.

This was when she first saw him in modern clothes and he scented her desire for him in the air. Since then, he took to wearing human clothes just to make her release that wonderful aroma for him.

His long, elegant legs braced against the whipping wind were encased with a light colored kamisa drawstring pants that reached his ankles. It was not as comfortable as his hakama but she said that it suited him.

'Well, anything you wear looks good on you. It's just damn unfair!' He heard her wail in his mind.

But then, he remembered that she always preferred soft tones against his skin. She said that it made him look like an angel.

'You're more beautiful than I am! Standing next to you makes me feel like I'm your lackey or something.' He heard her melodious voice grumble at him.

She loved his legs too. It was long and powerful, anchoring him to earth and assuring her that he won't just fly away and leave her.

'At least you're an inu. If you had been a bird youkai, I would've been forced to clip your wings!' He heard her huff at him.

But it was she who left. It was her who was the angel and flew away. An angel with no wings. Flew away from him after looking for her for such a long time.

"No courtesy or respect at all. Typical of humans," he intoned to himself as he dug his bare feet in the sand. He remembered that it was she who loved to do this. She said that she liked the feeling of the sand digging against the soft underside of her feet. She said that she could feel each individual grain of sand tickle her soles. She said that it was the earth trying to give her a message through the sand, if she could only dig her feet hard enough to understand.

'Now, now Sesshoumaru-sama, don't growl at me and just remove your shoes!' He could actually see her bending over his feet and tugging his shoes off. Her round derriere weaving in the air in her effort to tug off his shoes making Sesshoumaru want to take a swipe at its roundness.

Sesshoumaru sighed at the memory, regretting why he never did take that swipe. Up until now, his hands still could imagine what she would have felt like against his palms. He shook his head. He also remembered that he had asked why the earth would try to communicate with her through her feet and not with her hands instead.

'Wouldn't that be more logical?' he inquired. 'After all, your hands are more familiar with the world because of its direct contact with it on a daily basis.'

'Well, do you walk on your hands, Sesshoumaru-sama?' He remembered her tone of voice when she answered him. Sarcastic and at the same time her voice was laced in disbelief, like the answer was as obvious as his power or his beauty.

He never wanted to kill a human as he wanted to kill her at that moment. No one dared to talk to him like she did. But he remembered that she was just a human and her ideas were human as well, so he decided to scoff it off as another of her stupid human reasoning. The earth trying to communicate through feet? Really, she seemed to have caught all the human eccentricities possible.

But it seemed that she finally got the earth's message and went off, flew off where he can't hope to reach her. And here he was now, trying to see if she left him a message with the sand. Maybe if he tried hard enough, the earth would talk to him too.

He withdrew his hands from his pockets and brought it against the setting sun. His prided claws. His long, slender fingers. Beautiful weapons that used to kill mercilessly in the past.

"And still can." He snorted to himself.

'Claws sheathed in velvet.. So cliché but it's you. Deadly beautiful, my Perfect Killer..' she often whispered to his ear, her hot breath caressing his cold soul. He could still feel her soft lips tracing the shell of his ear and her wet tongue flicking in its wake. She knew how just how sensitive inuyoukai ears were. But that just excited her more, especially when he retaliated in a more aggressive way that included his claws in certain sensitive organs.

But now, the claws that she admired so much were blunt-tipped to deceive humans of the time. They thought such hands dangerous and fearsome, unlike her who found them beautiful.

But it was at times such as these, that he unsheathed his claws to be kissed by the glow of the setting sun. He remembered that there used to be the softest pair of lips that kissed the very claws that killed her brethren. She loved his claws. She said that it made him who he was and that those same claws had killed for her and had made love to her. It had held her and protected her. So she loved these claws. He remembered that she loved the way it gleamed in the sun's fading light. She said that the setting sun gave more color than the rising sun.

'You see, the sun is very generous and hardworking. He gives us warmth and light so we can be comfortable, we can work and grow our food. But he also gets bored with all the work. So what he does for fun is to collect all the possible colors on one side of the world. Then at every sunset just when he leaves for the other side, he bursts them so he can compare, admire and share them with us. He still actually hasn't decided yet which side has prettier colors though..' she ended with a slight frown.

Of course, humans never did make sense most of the time. But notwithstanding her idea, he liked to free his claws once in a while. It just so happened that he liked to do it by sunset where the sun's light can play along his razor sharp claws. Not because of what she said, of course not.

He dug his hands in his pockets again. It brought back too many memories of times spent with her.

Sometimes, he couldn't stand his own body. There were numerous memories of her on his body. In fact, there were memories of her everywhere. She was like a bad case of a bug. You can't just shake her off even after a few centuries.

He scowled at the setting sun, irritated with himself and her for all these memories. He remembered that it was the same color of his eyes. She said that she loved the sun because it was the same color of his eyes. Gold that could be so cold as it could be warm. Eyes that looked right through her and see everything that she was and not turn away. She said that she loved his eyes because she saw herself reflected in them as she had never seen herself before. It was her and not somebody else. Only her in his eyes.

His expression softened. Even if she was now only in his memory, he still couldn't stay angry with her.

"After all, these are the only things that I have of her left.." he sighed softly.

The wind blew against his hair. He then remembered that she also loved the wind. She loved and envied it because it was free. She never did know that she was free as he knew she was. She said that the wind was gentle as it was fierce. She never did know that she was the wind. She was his gentleness and he was her fierceness. She brought it all out of him as he did out of her. She never did realize that they were the wind, in the wind, forever.

He shook his head to free his face from his entangled hair. He looked again to the West with longing. It was at times such as these, alone with the wind, that he allowed his mask to slip off. Alone with the setting sun, he allowed himself to feel some measure of their immense sharing that have gone past. Always only a small measure, for if he let himself loose without her beside him, he may drown in it. Then, he wouldn't be able to watch the setting sun anymore as he had promised her so many centuries ago. He longed to bask fully in their love again. It has been too long, too long ago and he was thirsty, so very thirsty for her.

But he was destined to always partake of it only in small measures for the rest of his painful existence. Never again to feel it in its comforting fullness. How long was he to last?