The Long Road to Freedom 2: Fire on the Water

Bloodlust

1433, mid-Muromachi Period, Autumn, Musashi

Sesshoumaru remained perfectly still as he listened carefully to the conversation happening just beyond the tree line. The demons Jaken was speaking with would have no clue he was there, thinking only that they were trading information with a tiny loremaster of sorts. The stories they shared filled in the final pieces of the fractured rumor he'd been chasing for months now, and as they left he also turned to leave, knowing now where he must go.

Jaken scrambled to catch up, only barely finding a handhold on A-Un's tail as the three of them rose swiftly into the sky.

"Milord, where are we off to?"

"Is it not clear?"

Sesshoumaru didn't bother glaring at his often mindless vassal, focused solely on his target; a gravesite in the wilds, rumored to be haunted as though by demons, and it was in the direction the nintoujou indicated. This could be it, the end of all his wandering, his searching.

The place was, indeed, remote, with only a small colony of humans nearby, no doubt to make use of the rich fields and clear river. Sesshoumaru gave the stones of the gravesite a cursory examination, determining that they were of the proper age to qualify. The earth around the grave was clean and well-tended, a bundle of dried flowers set neatly at the base along with a variety of sutras and offerings. He narrowed his eyes.

Flowers are a human tradition, they do not belong on a demon's memorial, he sneered. Then again, knowing his father's particular weakness, perhaps it was only disgustingly appropriate in some way.

Somehow he knew before Jaken even set the staff against the stones that the woman's head would sound, indicating this was not the grave he sought. The woman's cry frustrated him, as did Jaken's indignant sputtering and curses, his groveling apologies.

Sesshoumaru clenched his fists against his growing rage until his claws bit into his skin.

'Why? WHY, father? I was your first-born, your heir! Why have you treated me so? Why do you continue to evade and taunt this Sesshoumaru in such a way? I seek only what is rightfully mine, yet even in death you continue to deny me! Why?! ANSWER ME!'

He knew there would be none, for the dead did not speak.

He barely registered Jaken's call, the sounds of people approaching. Their stench drew him from his thoughts.

Humans.

He slid his golden eyes to consider them with a piercing gaze, his demon blood beginning to boil as they tried to order him away, threatening him with their pathetic farming tools and rusted swords.

"Begone, all of you! Or you will suffer the wrath of my great and mighty lord!" the imp squawked.

"This is our land! You've no right to be here!" the humans snapped back.

"Call the headman!"

"Apparitions at the gravesite! Someone fetch the priestess!"

"I told you this thing was haunted!"

Their sounds rose, like chittering rats, but through it his ears honed in on a single sound; the cries of a frightened whelp. His eyes found the source almost immediately, its mother cradling the thing and shushing it in equal terror.

Something about the sight of the pair made him snap. His eyes bled red, his demon nature demanding blood, demanding suffering and death to quench his rage.