Red

Red Witness

Sesshoumaru knew the meaning of stillness, embodied it with haughty grandeur that few others could master. Observant yet aloof, passing judgment without speaking a word, the Lord of the Western Lands had long had his own opinion of his bastard brother's existence, and shared it with extended blade.

Of the hanyou's recent disgrace? Sesshoumaru posed, alone upon a rocky ledge, and watched. Unmoving and unmoved, he had long predicted that his half-sibling's inferior blood would tell. Blood always told. This rabid red-eyed beast mounting its mortal companion-turned-prey was not his Lord Father claiming his Lady Mother in alpha perfection. Nor was it even that same sire mounting the human bitch Izayoi for his indulgent pleasure. Young though he was, Sesshoumaru had observed that mating. While it disgusted him, there was yet grace in the fragile woman's humility before the godlike magnificence of his daiyoukai father. There was true power in how he then took her. And, Sesshoumaru grudgingly acknowledged to himself and no other, there was nobility in the recognition of the offspring brat as his own.

But this? A savage assault by a demon-child upon the female he protected and prized above all others—even if he would deny his affection? There was neither honor nor control in the act. And, for her part, though the girl might not deserve such an attack, her naïve persistence and overwrought empathy had made this inevitable.

Of course, none of this was his concern. He observed because it brought him power, not malice. It was for no one but himself to decide whether or not to remain, even now, as the youkai energy faded from Inuyasha's eyes and the hanyou ascended once again, taking the broken bitch into his arms with tears in his half-breed eyes. No, Sesshoumaru would not look away.