Penetration

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Chapter Two

Sesshomaru stared down at the limp form of his half-brother and his upper lip curled ever so slightly in distaste. Tokijin pulsed in his grip, glowing an eager, angry red with the knowledge that it would be so easy to rid the world of the one and only stain of Sesshomaru's noble heritage.

He had planned for today to be the day the hanyou breathed his last. The moment the irksome, blustering fool had appeared on his path, the daiyoukai had decided neither would leave the battlefield until Inuyasha lay cold and lifeless at his feet, silenced once and for all.

Angrily, Sesshomaru sheathed his sword in one fluid motion and narrowed his eyes dangerously at Inuyasha's unconscious form. Of all the blows he had received in their battle, it was a simple blow to the back of the skull that finally laid the hanyou flat. The youkai - now nothing more than dust on the wind after a taste of Tokjin's power - had sent him flying into a boulder along the outer edge of the clearing that had staged their battle, leaving Sesshomaru the responsibility of destroying the hideous beast.

It had never been a danger to him. Though perhaps the youkai's blow would have struck home, it would not have killed him. It was not even guaranteed that blood would have been drawn. Nevertheless, Inuyasha had saved him, much as the thought left an unappealing taste in his mouth, at risk of substantial injury.

Sesshomaru was indebted.

Whether or not the ignorant mongrel was aware of it, he had just performed an act that, by custom of the clan to which their father had belonged, must be honoured and repaid in equal amounts. Though Sesshomaru truly wished it were otherwise, the simple fact that Inuyasha was the son of their father made him part of their clan, even if Sesshomaru was now the only surviving member. However, as long as the daiyoukai survived, so did the customs and ideals of that clan, for he would never forsake them. To shield another clan member's body with one's own was an act of great trust and affection between comrades; though no such thing existed between the brothers, to take advantage of Inuyasha's ignorance of custom would colour Sesshomaru dishonourable. As a demon who took great stock in the honour of his heritage and his own name, Sesshomaru knew this was not to be borne.

Growling low in the back of his throat, Sesshomaru reached down and curled his claws into the thick, unkempt mane around Inuyasha's head and dragged him unkindly away from the stone he lay slumped against. The hanyou did not stir, and Sesshomaru noted disapassionately the blood that had coloured a good portion of the granite-grey surface of the boulder, sticky and congealed and with not a few long, silvery hairs clinging to the mess left behind. The right side of his head was also covered in blood from the demon's initial attack; the claw marks were healing, but slowly, as the hanyou's limited regenerative abilities struggled to heal his many wounds all at once.

Feeling distinctly like he would rather tear the fool's throat out and dance in the spatter of his carotid artery, Sesshomaru began to drag the limp weight of his half-brother through the trees to the water he could smell in the distance beneath the thick, human-tainted youkai blood that coated the entire clearing. It was a distance away, and the journey gave Sesshomaru time for reflection.

Though he was angry at the grief it caused him, Sesshomaru could privately admit to being unsure why the half-breed would risk his life to prevent an attack against his older brother. Though they had had common enemies in the past, they had never been allies. Though they had fought in the same battles against those enemies, they had never fought with each other. Whenever they had crossed swords, there had always been the intent to harm. Concern for Sesshomaru's welfare was so far out of the question that he never even considered it as a reason.

The only possibility that had much credence in Sesshomaru's mind was the fact that Inuyasha was... suicidal.

It would certainly explain his brother's provocative behaviour in the months since Naraku's defeat. It had begun to seem, to Sesshomaru, that he could hardly turn a corner without Inuyasha appearing there, battle-ready and sputing pathetic, repetitive insults. The daiyoukai's patience, already thin where the half-breed was concerned, had eventually run out and led him to his earlier decision to put an end to the fool rather than suffer anymore of his constant intrusions.

Sesshomaru had not failed to notice the absence of the miko around his brother since Naraku's death. Since the hanyou had been incomprehensibly attached to her, it would only make sense that he would fall victim to a human's emotional weakness and mourn the loss. The monk, the demon slayer, the kitsune and the nekomata had also vanished from his brother's vicinity, Sesshomaru knew; any leftover remains of their scents had long since vanished from around Inuyasha. A newfound wish for death rather than face loneliness again was not out of the question.

However, if the mongrel was attempting to deliberately die by his hand, the notion lost its appeal. If he were to be Inuyasha's executioner, it would be by his own choice, not the machinations of his little brother. If the hanyou could not bear to be on his own again, he should simply go off and die quietly rather than bother Sesshomaru with his pathetic and unnecessary existence.

The faint sound of rushing water Sesshomaru had picked up early in his journey toward it had turned into the rushing of a waterfall; it was close by now. The next clearing Sesshomaru entered brought him to the bank of a river that branched out from a wide pool created by the waterfall. He stopped by it and uncaringly dragged the hanyou's limp body to dangle by his feet; the hanyou had not made a single noise the whole time Sesshomaru had been pulling him along by his untidy mane, yet his hand still clutched Tetsusaiga in an unrelenting grip and had ever since he lost consciousness, as though even subconsciously he feared someone would steal it away from him.

Sesshomaru sneered down at him. It was fear of his own blood, Sesshomaru assumed. Their father's Fang acted as a seal for Inuyasha's uncontrolled youkai nature; such a flaw was fitting for one as weak and pathetic as Inuyasha. It had surprised Sesshomaru not at all to learn that Inuyasha had no means within himself to control the true power of the inuyoukai that he was so unworthy of.

Filthy hanyou, he thought to himself, for snarling it at an unconscious and unhearing form as he wished would lower him closer to Inuyasha's brand of intelligence and lack of dignity and poise. Clean yourself of your foul blood.

With that, Sesshomaru swung his powerful arm and launched the limp form of the hanyou into the middle of the pool with a satisfying splash. He watched the surface dispassionately until he saw a disturbance beneath it, signalling the hanyou had been shocked back to consciousness as he planned. He settled himself gracefully on a nearby boulder and watched the water, waiting for his little brother's damp head to break the surface and for the expected angry outburst to spring forth.