Just Imagine by cakeiton

Chapter 33

I don't own anything Inuyasha.

A/N: If you read any of my other stories than you know the main reason I've been gone so long. If not, then I'm hear to tell you that I lost EVERYTHING on my old laptop. All my notes, chapters, research... Yeah, heartbreaking.

But, thanks to the support of my wonderful partner (“Why don't you write, why aren't you writing? Start writing again”) I am jumping back into it.

This is not the next chapter of this story. I am still trying to rebuild all of that, so there will probably be grammatical and consistency errors. This is a happy short sidestep; a look back to when things were good in this little 'Just Imagine' world.

This is for SessKag Week 2020 Day 2: Fantasy- Fairy Tale.

…

Before there were rebellions and rites of passage, before there were kisses that would never be forgotten and words that could never be taken back, there was a small, lonely inuyoukai and his imaginary human friend.

And there was the gleeful, untarnished happiness of children that didn't know any better yet, hiding in trees and stealing moments for just themselves.

She giggled as she shook the branch above him and sprinkled him with velvety soft blossoms of the magnolia tree. A breeze picked up the flowers and made them dance with the wet, earthy musk of spring and the non-scent of his best friend. The truth of Miko's existence gently nagged at his awareness because, well, she did not registered to his senses. No smell, no true body, no real aura, but within his mind she radiated a bright spirit. She could see into him, could reach inside him and soothe his heart. In his world of obligation and pomp and fear, Miko was a reprieve.

No, she wasn't real. She was a fantasy that he was happy to indulge in.

“What are you staring at?” she asked, a slight lisp escaping past the hole where her two front teeth had been. As it turns out, humans had multiple sets of teeth.

Sesshoumaru sighed. He had not really been staring at anything. The sun was still rising, gilding his ancestral home in warm highlights, and he had let his eyes drift and fall into the feeling of the wind and her playful laughter floating him away.

So, he shrugged.

Miko clicked her tongue, then carefully climbed down to his own sturdy branch. Sesshoumaru glanced to his side where she was trying to get comfortable. So clumsy.

Finally, she caught her breath and smiled at him again. “Will you tell me a story?”

His brow furrowed as he stared at her. “What type of story?”

The girl's hands waved about as if telling a story all their own, threatening to throw her off balance. “One with scary monsters and a courageous hero and a princess and a fight to win her heart.”

It was so unlike her to want to hear about violence that he took a long moment to answer, wondering what she was trying to make him understand about himself now. “You want to hear about my parents' courting?”

Her brilliant blue eyes glazed over and mouth dropped open. “Wha- wait, what? No!” It took approximately half a second for her shock to twist into ire. Miko huffed. “Ew, gross! No, a story! A youkai fairy tale!”

A fairy tale? “You want,” he tried to put together her meaning, “a moral lesson?”

Again, Miko looked exasperated. “Don't tell me demon don't have fairy tales!”

He just continued to stare, not feeling particularly interested in trying to explain his entire race's disinterest in fantasy. They did, in fact, seriously encourage a verbal history tradition, as scrolls were only readily available to youkai houses such as his own. Demons did not burn as easily as paper, and their minds did not crumble over time. It was more secure. But it was only to pass down warnings and lessons. Then there was also the thought that youkai were probably considered fantasy, anyways. So, finding long explanations boring, he just didn't respond.

Bird song drifted high up above him and Miko looked up, temporarily forgetting her disappointment, After another heartbeat her lips pursed in thought and suddenly his passive observation of her became anticipation. That look meant the beginning of an idea. He had come to recognize that face well and adore her games more.

Suddenly, she beamed. “I know! Let's make one up!”

His disgruntled sniff in response sounded petulant in his youth. “No.”

Her face sank and she whined, “Why not?”

With another deep sigh he closed his eyes. Miko's face looked terribly disappointed. It was both painful to not provide and agitating to feel obligated to her mood. However, he did wonder why he had outright denied her, since he had only a moment before been ready to play. She asked for so little.

Sesshoumaru swore he felt her jab his arm with a blunt finger. One golden eye slid open to stare down the figment of his imagination, and the reason dawned on him.

She had petals in her unruly hair that wasn't really there. Her blue, honest eyes were lies he told himself. Her childish pout and her strange clothes could vanish if he willed it. Her presence was an unnatural thing, yet somehow had never felt fake. They were already in a fantasy...

And all youkai stories were cautionary tales.

He must have looked sad because she cocked her head and studied him intently. If this were a youkai fairy tale, what lesson was it trying to imprint on him? Or what lesson were they supposed to be warning others about? They sat in the quiet lull before midday, the chittering of life nearby, not wanting to break their eyes away should something tenuous, something they could not understand at their age, shatter.

But Miko's attention was suddenly pulled from him and Sesshoumaru let out a breath he did not know he was holding in.

“I have to go,” she announced, playing with her dark hair as she stared off towards the east, away from him.

The little lord's brow furrowed. He had never actually seen her leave. “But I do not wish for you to.”

She turned a mischievous smile his way, the idea smile, and he almost scowled. Once again, she was not listening to him.

“Close your eyes,” she teased.

Sesshoumaru meant to just narrow them in rebellion, yet acquiesced. He wasn't sure he was going to like this game.

“Now,” she said cheerfully, already sounding farther away. “Count to three.”

He didn't. Instead, his brow twisted as he opened his eyes again.

She was gone, but it did not feel like she left. Perhaps it was his own mind that did not want to examine their fairy tale game any longer. It was probably a defense mechanism of some kind. Only slightly satisfied with his reasoning, his troubled gaze shifted to where he imagined she had disappeared to.

There was just the sun, and the new growth, and the ancient house, and the thousand other things he could expect to be there.

…

A/N: Again, sorry if there are errors, especially consistency ones. Trying to find voice and tone and all that again. Thanks for bearing with me.