YOUKAI SENSO (Youkai Wars) by ACER WOLFE SMI she.her

In Turmoil

Note: I do not hold any legal right to Rumiko Takahashi's story. I'm just a fan and stalker of Sesshoumaru.

CHAPTER 1

YOUKAI SENSO

(Youkai Wars)

I woke up hot and sweaty and sighed as I stood up. The sheets were soaked and turned clammy now that my body heat left it. I blinked and realized that I don't feel refreshed from my nap. A fat bead of sweat made its way down my collarbone and another wanted to make a race of it from behind my back. At the end of the bed, my poor two-year-old electric fan was struggling to combat a losing battle against the heat. Lifting my head, the battered clock beside my pillow said it's now about two in the afternoon. Dammit, I didn't even get to nap for about two hours. My eyes felt dry and small, the effect of not getting enough sleep.

I swept the thin sheet from me. No matter how hot it is I still wanted to cover myself in a sheet. Must be some instinctive shit to make me feel secure. The bed above me was empty and as always Rin left it mussed up. I sighed in exasperation but I decided not to bother with it. That kid must've been late again for duty. I tugged at the bedcovers to give it some sort of order.

It's good. I'm not in the mood for being OC right now so I head for the head.

I snorted at the pun. Head for the head. I'm not in the mood for levity right now. I feel angry. I feel rage simmering up. On the outside my face might look tranquil but those who know me stay away and avoid me like the plague. Much better. There were days when my patience wore thin and I don't have the time for crap.

Instead I sigh at the cool water sloshing the sweat away from my body. I let it pour for a good minute, soaking me and leaching out the heat from the afternoon nap. My heartbeat feels as if it's choking me. Why do I always forget not to sleep right after a good meal? I'm such an idiot. That three egg onion omelet and six slices of bread was not a good thing. Not good. No wonder my feet feels like lead. Dammit. My chest feels heavy and I found myself beginning to take a deep breath to sigh. How annoying. It seems that all I do these days is sigh.

Yes, it's been four days since I got back. The calendar says so. Everyone thought I'd been dead. I thought I had been dead. They said no one thought I'd be found in that area. Alive.

I snorted. Of course. Who would be?

I did not want to look at myself at the bathroom mirror after I returned the bottle of antacid. I don't wanna see the troubled eyes and other details I'd rather not pay particular attention to right now.  My memory is still kinda mushy.

The know-it-all shrink said to anticipate these things. If I find myself having night terrors or having some sort of anxiety attack report it immediately, she says. I look at her deadpan as she pushed the medicine at me. I wanted to throw that hard brown bottle to her face. Fuck yourself. I smiled at her as I almost slammed the metal door shut, eager to get away from her, from that place. I hate doctors. They think they know everything there is to know about people.

I didn't realize that I've been standing for about two minutes in front of the dresser, the undie drawer open. I always try to organize it but I fail, it's now back to its jumbled glory. I sigh again while thinking of making a big glass of strong cold coffee to distract myself. Coffee always calms me.

I dress quickly to avoid seeing the blinking 'official docs' notification on my PC. No doubt that's the boss nagging me to finish and forward my debriefing letter to him ASAP. But, screw it! I'm not ready yet. First of all, what would I write? Apart from the time I opened my eyes to a bunch of people's faces looking down at me I had no idea I've been missing for one year. My last recollection was the reconnaissance mission and we were having a joke about...about...

Shit!

Might be nothing but my shaking hands and thundering heart defy logic. I didn't tell that freaking doctor about it. I don't want her digging into my head. I'm gonna find out myself what all this is all about and no uppity shrink is delving into my psyche clucking all the while because something bad happened to me. I'd rather slit her throat than open my head to her.

So now I'm all dressed and then I smirk because I'm wearing all black again. I'm good and I'm ready.

But I stand at my door like a statue and I'm sure that my eyes might be unfocused right now and I don't see the peeling beige paint that Rin tried vainly to repair over and over. I suddenly feel reluctant to step beyond that door. I don’t want to face the people beyond it. I don’t want to talk to them. I don’t want to see their eyes- the stares, the averted eyes, the pitying eyes, the curious eyes.

 Dammit all!

~000~