Sesshoumaru Wept

DISCLAIMER: Of course, I do not own InuYasha or anything associated with said half-demon.


_________________________________________________________________________________________
:::Chapter 1: Eater Of The Dead:::

The storm had been brewing for days, gathering strength to unleash their full fury on the central coastal region of Japan. The moon was hidden behind a bank of rainclouds, but the Lord of the West could easily see the path he was on. While Sesshoumaru was not concerned with the storm's imminent arrival, he certainly would prefer to be inside when it began to rain. He sighed to himself, thinking of the sickness he was struck with the last time he was out in it for too long. It was a tense and humiliating moment, sneezing on one of his human vassals in the middle of negotiations to prevent all-out war on his eastern boarder. He quickly covered it with a deep growl, which all participants mistook for Sesshoumaru's extreme displeasure (as not a one of them had ever heard such a noise come from the inuyoukai), and immediately ceased bickering, bowing silently to him. The only other youkai in the room at the time was his mother, and she all but ran from the meeting, her face red with barely-contained mirth. Well, he thought, at least she had enough respect to not laugh at him in front of the humans.

He continued his journey deep into the forest that housed his family's private temple. It was a trek he tried to make once every couple of days but found himself too busy of late to visit. Sakuraji-or Temple of the Cherry Blossom-was tucked against the base of a cliff to offer some protection against the elements and possible invasion. Though not many in Japan (much less the rest of the world) even knew of Sakuraji's existence, Sesshoumaru's ancestor did not take any chances with the location of his family's place of meditation. For that, Sesshoumaru was grateful for the foresight. Before the grand fa_ade of the temple was a large grove of ancient cherry trees, and one demon magnolia tree planted before its very steps some generations before, a Mokurenou by name. In addition to having a distantly related youkai of the mighty Bokusenou on castle grounds, Mokurenou had proved invaluable in hiding the temple with his own youkai aura.

Sesshoumaru walked through the blooming cherry trees. He would have liked to come in the morning because the trees were always an incredible sight in the early morning sun. However, it was not to be. He had a pressing matter to attend to near Edo, so he would be traveling much of this night to make his destination on time. Down the rocky path he could just see Mokurenou's branches, stretching toward the sky, and the faint blue glow of the temple wrapped securely in the tree demon's embrace.

"Good evening, young one," the demon said at Sesshoumaru's approach.

"And to you, honored elder," he replied formally, bowing his head slightly. "How is our guest?"

The tree chuckled. "About the same. The last time you left, she didn't calm for at least five or six days."

"Perhaps this Sesshoumaru is finally getting through to her."

"Perhaps," Mokurenou stated and a gap in the blue glow widened enough to let the daiyoukai through. "I look forward to meeting InuYasha."

Sesshoumaru nodded slightly at his trusted advisor. "As do I."

He continued up the steps and through the veil, which sealed itself when he was on the other side. When the door opened, the stale scent of unwashed human monk hit him, and he growled unconsciously, even as he walked into the zendou. He made a mental note to have the elite servants air the temple out when the cherry blossom petals began to fall. Zafu perched on black zabuton lined the walls that were decorated in hand-painted murals of the history of the western dog clan. The dogs painted their own history, so some of the scenes depicted were masterfully rendered, and others were just barely recognizable-all of it was carefully and lovingly done. Before stepping into the main hall, Sesshoumaru took off his geta, put his hands at gasshou and bowed deeply at the waist to the empty room. His eyes locked on the altar at the head of the hall. In front of the statue of Buddha was a white interlocking web, and at the very center of that ethereal web was the sword Sounga, held tightly in its grip. On either side of the sword were two yaksha, one in the form of a lion and the other an eagle. Their heads turned to him and both nodded their welcome.

"Good evening," Sesshoumaru said, nodding to them as well. "Please give Shakyamuni Buddha my gratitude for your continuing assistance."

They nodded once more and froze, their forms slowly fading from the terrestrial plane. Sesshoumaru knew he would see them guarding the temple the next time he visited Sounga.

Without preamble, he touched the blade and felt the usual wrenching in his gut. When he became aware of his surroundings once more, she was in almost exactly the same position when last he saw her. Chains forged from the very threads of her own soul held her upright while they also prevented her from moving. Numerous shallow cuts bled lazily, marked her golden brown skin with stripes of dark red and made her black demon markings stand out in relief. Her bare breasts, crowned with dark brown nipples, rose and fell with each metered breath. Sesshoumaru admired the bitch from his vantage point. She would be incredible to mate and breed, their pups would be beautiful.

"Your over-inflated ego is tiresome, mutt," she hissed, scowling with eyes forever closed on the mortal plane. "I was created sterile. Your thoughts are pointless."

"Hn." He advanced on her. He fitted himself snugly against her back, her blood staining the white silk of his kimono, and put his chin on her shoulder.

"My fantasies are my own, Ammit," he whispered a hair's breadth from her ear. She shivered, goose flesh covered her skin and her nipples hardened. Sesshoumaru's hand slithered up her belly, smeared the fresh blood and clawed lightly at her skin. Its trek ended as it cupped her firm breast, drew drowsy circles around the taut nipple. She gasped at the contact.

"You are not as immune to my touch as you would like me to believe," he said while kissing her neck.

"Why?" Ammit growled. "Why are you doing this?"

He considered her a moment, then slipped around to face her. "Because your master has something I want. You know where he's keeping it."

"You know I can't tell you!"

"I will release you when you tell me," Sesshoumaru stated, running his fingers through the blood on her stomach. "Wouldn't you like to leave here? How many years has it been, Ammit? How long since you last saw Anubis?"

"I-I don't remember!"

"Almost one hundred and fifty years. It is a long time to be away from where you belong, isn't it?"

The silence grew between them, until Sesshoumaru ran his bloodied finger over her lips. He bent down and devoured them, his ego preening when she responded quickly. He kissed down her neck, over her chest; he licked over her stomach and up one of her breasts, missing the nipple. Her blood was sweet and addictive with the sharp tang of immortality. It would be easy to be lost in this, he thought with a self-satisfied rumble. He could smell her arousal dripping from her very pores, even if he couldn't see it in her flushed face or hear it in her soft, strangled noises.

"What are you doing?" she asked breathlessly.

"This Sesshoumaru is seducing you," he murmured against her neck, then painted the side of her face with her own blood. "I know you simply cannot resist the scent and taste of blood-even if it is your own. We are much the same in that way, Destroyer. It is the reason I left you bleeding, so I would come back to this."

His other hand slipped beneath her sarong-like wrap, and pulled out slick with her body's lubrication. At her natural smell, demonic red exploded into Sesshoumaru's eyes.

"I was wagering that Anubis created you to enjoy mating," he said, his voice unrecognizable. "We are warriors, Ammit. We have killed and have reveled in it. We are not accustomed to gentleness, and with gentleness, I will wear you down."

Her brows lifted and her mouth dropped open in fear of his words. He ran his hand down her face again, her fluids and blood combining before she felt his warm, slightly rough tongue lick a path through it. She couldn't stop her body from trembling at the heightened arousal, and her breasts were so tender she wanted to scream. Before she could form a coherent thought, she felt him pulling away, leaving Sounga.

"You can't leave me here like this, dog!" she yelled.

Sesshoumaru continued stepping backward, watching the beautiful goddess writhe in her chains. "Of course I can, Ammit. You forget who I am. I expect when I see you again, you will be willing to disclose the location. If not, I will be more than happy to continue where we've left off."

He clutched his head as he exited the sword, waited until the room stopped spinning to stand. His kimono was bloodstained and the scent of the bitch seemed to have soaked into his very skin. He breathed deeply, his already hard cock pulsing in need. He snarled, but even in his state, managed to pass through the barrier without incident, Mokurenou having retreated into the body of the tree for the night. As he began the trek to the castle, his demon insisted it would not be placated until he mounted and fucked a beta inuyoukai. It snapped and snarled at him to move! To get home and find a bitch NOW! For once, he heartily agreed with the blasted thing and took to the air in a flash. The only sign of his passing were the cherry blossom petals floating to the ground in the moonlight.

Makoto paced nervously in her exquisitely decorated room in the concubine's sanctuary. Her third heat was just beginning, making her skin feel itchy and tight. While she was grateful her breeding period wasn't every month as a human female's estrus, she couldn't help but wish this third heat hadn't happened yet. It meant she would be presented to the Western Lord as a sexually viable bitch. And that thought terrified her. The last time she saw or smelled the large alpha male, she had been a very small pup and pissed on the floor in front of the Axis Seat. Even though she was a baby and her response not quite unexpected, the possibility he would remember remained mortifying to her. She spun around when she heard voices murmuring down the hall, and amid the subdued chaos, she heard Sesshoumaru's name. No! Not now! her mind cried out. Panic welled in her body, and she knew she couldn't escape. The best she could hope for was being ignored in favor of one of the other females.

The scent of the fully aroused sovereign hit her nose as he stepped through the doorway into the concubines' segregated area. Through the archway leading into her room she could see his red eyes raking over the shared area. Her breath caught in her throat as she got her first real look at him as an adult female inuyoukai. His white kimono was open and bloody, showing off his finely muscled chest. Under it he wore pants that appeared to be modeled after hakama, with a fine white sash holding them on tapered hips. She couldn't help but see him as the conquering lord, coming to take his due. She shivered as her own eyes were engulfed in a sea of red, her nether regions aching pleasantly, all but begging to be exposed to the powerful male so her pups would be strong.

A couple of the older bitches came out to see what had their young lord so riled, and with a sniff, he dismissed them, as they belonged to his father when he was living. And he never mounted what belonged to his father, out of respect. A soft noise toward one of the sleeping rooms caught his attention, and his nostrils flared, taking in the flood of scents around him to filter through them. His bestial mind locked in on the scent of fertile, young bitch and without conscious thought, his body glided toward that irresistible fount. He nearly purred in satisfaction that his assumption was correct as it grew in intensity as he approached the room from whence the noise came. He easily filled the arched entry, his eyes taking less than a second to adjust to the dim glow of the magicked, hanging spheres created by his resident sorcerer.

A lithe female inuyoukai stood in the corner with a bed fur wrapped around her small figure, as far away from him as she could manage. Her almond-shaped red eyes regarded him warily, a faint and uncertain growl coming from her chest.

"Present yourself to me," he said, his voice gravelly. He smelled her scent spike with fear and was confused. In an attempt to soothe her, he added: "I will not harm you, little one."

Hesitantly, she walked around to the side of the futon still clutching the fur tightly to her frame. She crawled, trembling, onto the pile of furs and stretched out under his watchful eye, but didn't drop her covering. He carefully extricated her from the offending fur and tossed it to the side, and she curled around herself, trying to wrap her single moko around her nakedness. He draped his body over her and wrapped his non-threatening, dominant aura around her. After her frantic heartbeat settled, her instincts took control. Of her own accord, she rolled onto her stomach and raised her hindquarters for his inspection.

Sesshoumaru retreated to her hind end and buried his nose in her wet heat, inhaling deeply. He licked, intending to penetrate her with his tongue but pulled back quickly when he discovered her virgin barrier. Her behavior finally made sense, and he would have chuckled at his own inattentiveness if he didn't think she would take it very, very personally. In a moment of playfulness, he nipped her outer lip, and she turned her head and growled at him. Good. There was fire in her, and her fear was a direct result of her sexual inexperience. He covered her once more, licking the nape of her neck comfortingly as he began carefully pushing his dripping cock into her body.

She whined loudly as she was filled in a way she hadn't experienced before, and his large frame prevented her from escaping the burn between her legs. She panted under him, her body a mass of tension until he began to growl inaudibly. The vibration sent spikes of pleasure through her body. She groaned as he pulled out, then thrust back into her welcoming heat. As soon as she relaxed, he seized her neck in his jaws with a snarl, digging his fangs into either side of her vertebral column and rode her violently. The sensations were overwhelming to Makoto, and her vision had gone white with something dancing on the edge of pleasure and pain. It seemed to end as quickly as it began, with a searing pain between her legs that forced a loud yelp out of her. Sesshoumaru remained poised over her. He continued to hump her in a controlled manner, grunting with each thrust and unable to pull out. She attempted to turn her head to see why he was stuck but was rewarded with her upper body pressed into the furs, and him growling in warning.

Sesshoumaru maneuvered them onto their sides and without releasing her neck, ran his hand into the downy fur-like patch on her mound. With what little range of motion she had, she groaned and instinctively shifted her leg so he could reach her. Because of the nature of their joining, he wanted to give her pleasure before she fell asleep. His fingers brushed along her inner lips, coming close to her nerve center but not putting pressure on it directly. In a very short period of time, she howled, her whole body tensing. His cock was gripped by her undulating body, and he could feel himself spill into her again, hips once more unconsciously thrusting. They both lay spent and silent, Sesshoumaru enjoying the closeness of his bitch, and Makoto falling asleep, a bit confused but sated. Sesshoumaru covered them with a fur, his cock still buried deeply in her.

Sayoko walked briskly down the hall of the maze-like castle. She received the summons immediately upon exiting the bath. Even though she spent a good portion of time soaking after her sparring session, her muscles still ached. It had her concerned, but not nearly as concerned as her son's early morning request for her presence in his quarters. It was out of character for the boy to even be under the castle's roof at this time: usually, he was already up and walking to the day's first hearing location with Jakken. Touga used to walk on hearing days too, she thought with a sad half-smile. The two of them were not so very different. Shaking the sadness away, she climbed the spiral staircase leading to the east wing's second level where the ruling pack's quarters were.

She came to a dead stop on the last stair, memories invading her mind. Years before, the pack quarters were filled with her family-young and old, crippled and able-bodied-all going through the regular bonding ritual of grooming each other and sleeping together. How she missed those times! That wonderful time of peace ended abruptly with the sudden deaths of Touga and Izayoi. In the last years, she hadn't been able to bring herself to think of the east wing, much less climb those damned stairs.

"Leave the past where it belongs, mother," Sesshoumaru said, breaking through her self-imposed misery. Her beautiful, strong son stood naked before her with a china cup filled with green tea, held out for her to take. With steady hands she took it from him, not surprised he was able to appear before her without her sensing his approach.

"My thoughtful boy, thank you," Sayoko said and sipped delicately at the steaming liquid.

He gestured with his head for her to follow him as he turned and walked toward his designated chamber. "While I enjoy the time we spend together, this is not a social summon."


Sesshoumaru picked up his own teacup from the side table in the reception room, nodding for her to look at his bed through the open door. Sayoko stepped toward the door, peering into her very private son's bedroom, and her heart skipped a beat when she noticed a bitch curled up in the silk covers. The room's windows faced the east, and the rising sun flooded the moderately sized room, spilling over the bed. It bathed the sleeping form in golden light, as if blessed by the gods themselves. Her youthful face was unmarked save for a crescent moon turned upward, ready to be filled by stars. Her single mokomoko was covered in what she knew was puppy fur that would fill out as she grew. Sayoko looked at her pup then, who was very intent on the female. She waited patiently for him to explain himself, drinking her tea and watching the inuyoukai on his bed.

"My... session with Ammit became quite intense," he began. "When I arrived home, I was close to losing myself, and the beast wanted to mate."

"She is very young. Are you sure she's reached the end of her adolescence?"

"Makoto was in heat when I happened upon her..."

Sayoko's eyes widened marginally. Putting her cup down, she went and stood over the smaller form. She buried her nose in the long, silver hair as soft as puppy down and whuffed quietly, then inhaled.

"She doesn't smell like she's in heat any longer," she murmured, turning her eyes to her son. Her spirit fell when she saw the clothes he had chosen. Black hakama and black three-quarter kimono-Sesshoumaru's warring attire. Her shoulders fell a fraction, but neither mother nor son acknowledged it. This was a chosen destiny.

"Indeed," he replied and began to dress. "I called you up here to ask if you would watch over her while I'm attending to the half-breed. I trust only you with such a task."

He paused in tying his black hakama and glanced at Sayoko. "And I thought you would like to get to know my mate."

"Indeed," Sayoko replied as she climbed into his bed to wrap around his young mate, face-to-face. She was now pack and needed the reassurance of this, especially by the alpha bitch.

Sesshoumaru put the long haori on and climbed in also, spooning Makoto. Both his and his mother's moko entwined over the smaller inu, and the wispy tip of Sesshoumaru's tickled Makoto's nose. Her nose twitched, but she didn't awaken. He put a hand under the cover and ran the very tips of his claws over her skin. She giggled, tried to roll over but found herself entangled in three large mokomoko that were not her own. The scent coming from all around was that of safety and protection, so she immediately calmed and snuggled back into the warmth that she knew was her large mate.

"Makoto," he called quietly.

"My lord?" Makoto answered, smiling at him.

"This is my mother, Sayoko-Sam-"

"Oh stop it, pup!" Sayoko exclaimed, cuffing him lightly with one of her moko. "You and your formality. Please call me Sayoko. Or even better, call me mother. I am so pleased to have you here."

"I am pleased to be here, mother. Thank you for accepting me," Makoto said, staring wide-eyed at the bitch that had the audacity to smack Sesshoumaru.

"Look at that, mother. You've scared her," he said, smirking at his mother over Makoto's head. Sayoko snorted.

"The girl has more spine than that," she said and stroked Makoto's hair. "You found a gem, my boy."

Sesshoumaru got up, retrieved a brush and two black leather straps, then sat on the edge of the bed. "Would you honor me by braiding my hair?"

"Of course, my lord," Makoto said, taking them from him. "I am honored you would allow me to do this for you."

He turned his back to mother and mate, and enjoyed the cherished moments of being groomed. When she finished brushing his long hair, she looked helplessly at Sayoko, who kindly and in hushed tones taught her how to prepare the lord's hair for battle. Sesshoumaru listened to the instruction with a deal of nostalgia, remembering how he would watch his mother, Izayoi and Kasumi (his father's third mate) fuss with Touga's hair on the eve of battle. His sire would laugh with them, touch them often, reassure them with his very presence that nothing would happen to the Western Lord. Many times, their play would turn into hours of mating, bonding on fear-filled nights to ward away the uncertainty. It was not a gift he could give at this time. Through the delightful female chatter, he smelled a trace of his mother's tears, but it was gone by the time he thought of what to say to her.

From their discussion, the two were about finished when he noticed drops of blood on his hand. He gingerly touched his upper lip and drew back blood-coated fingers. Quickly, so neither would notice, he dabbed his nose on the black fabric of his haori. When he thought he wiped all of it off, he turned and both females smiled at the sight of him.

"You are your father's son, Sesshoumaru," Sayoko said and indicated he should look in the mirror.

The three-quarter kimono and hakama set was reminiscent of the outfits he had seen Chinese soldiers wear; he drew the design himself after returning from that particular campaign with his father and had worn the comfortable fighting gear since. The determination in his eyes pleased him greatly, and he couldn't help a growl from escaping. When he faced the two again, it seemed that his mother slipped his swords to Makoto behind his back, and she was bowing, naked and head down, offering them both to him. After admiring her submissive form, he gently took them from her and tucked them into the left side of his obi.

"Stay near my mother," he said, taking her hands and helping her stand. He kissed the back of each of them and embraced her. Reluctantly, he released her.

"I would have nothing happen to either of you. If the situation becomes too volatile, I expect you to call my brothers home," Sesshoumaru said, looking Sayoko directly in her eyes.

She lifted her chin ever so slightly at him. "We will be f-"

"That was not a request, bitch," he cut in, his voice deceptively low. At his tone, Makoto whimpered and hid herself behind Sayoko. Tense seconds passed, and he took a resounding step toward his sire's bitch. While she positively refused to bare her throat to her own child, she did hold her hands up and look away.

"Yes, my lord," she muttered. Sesshoumaru sighed and pulled both of them into his arms, willing their last moments together to not be tainted by his final order to his mother.

They pulled away from him finally, and without another word, he left.