Nocturne - An Inuyasha Fanfic

Chapter Fifty-Nine: Just Like That

Nocturne - Chapter Fifty-Nine: Just Like That

Rated - M (for extremely suggestive adult themes, references to harsh violence, and coarse language)

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.

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He watched her walk away, disappearing into the distance of the human village. She had bypassed everyone and everything in a singular mission to vacate the premises, which was unusual for the woman who never ran from a fight, nor ever left anyone behind.

Her smell lingered, tainted with traces of anxiety coupled with shame, both scents foreign and wrong. Her typical scintillating scent was always clean with a faint hint of honeysuckle that reminded him of a warm spring day. Her aroma was always pleasant, even when mired with perspiration from a long day, and even more enjoyable when heavy with the musk of pheromones. By her scent alone, he knew something inside had broken.

Sesshomaru felt embattled with himself, part of him roaring in anger, ready to lash out at the nearest warm body, and the other eager to bring the Miko back to his side. Neither would do at this moment, though he toyed with the idea of resurrecting the disembodied head of Fan Tsenpo and trifling with the fool mercilessly. He stamped the desire down, if only because he knew that Fan may yet gloat even from beyond the grave, and Sesshomaru's pride could not swallow the probable truth of the knave's words. At least, not with the wounds so fresh.

Bringing the woman to heel would likely have equally disastrous results. Her spirit, though broken, would not be tempered by an illusion of security. He could not pretend to keep her safe from the actions of a madman as they played out from within. No, he thought, his approach would have to be tactful and gentle though his instincts yet urged him to rush and claim what was his.

"Ahem, my Lord," a small voice interrupted his thoughts.

Sesshomaru tsked loudly, hissing out a breath of annoyance. Jaken looked up, one three-fingered hand on his hat to keep it in place as he stared up at his master. "Ah, apologies Master, but the Lady Tsering..." he trailed, looking over at the woman next to him, "ah, has requested permission to stay." The retainer's tone suggested Tsering had already asked Sesshomaru herself but was given no response.

He cut a look to the woman. She was beautiful in every aspect of the word, yet her poise and grace could not hold a candle to the fiery and capable Miko he claimed as his. Sesshomaru chuckled to think that the epitome of a perfect yokai female, a match for any eligible inu male, would pale in comparison to a human. Years ago, he would have killed any who suggested he would claim and love a human, but to think of any other was almost painful.

"You may do as you please. It is of no concern to this one," he stated. "Keep far from my holdings," he added quickly, "as I would believe your presence may bring displeasure to my mate and even the tolerance of your proximity is an allowance of a kind gesture."

Tsering drew her brows together and pursed her lips with unsaid words but remained silent with a retort. Her expression clearly showed that she expected a different response, though Sesshomaru neither knew nor cared.

She dipped her head respectfully. "As you wish, Lord Sesshomaru." She glanced over her shoulder towards the remaining group of people beyond, looking at Inuyasha, who glared after her. She set her eyes on the horizon and let out a breath.

"My words will mean little," she began, speaking clearly and allowing her voice to carry, "but I sincerely apologize for all that has happened to you in the wake of my brother. I know I am allowed to leave by your grace and wander a different path."