Remember Me by Aspen Snow

Remember Me

Author's Note: I am thinking of making this more than just a one shot. But I'm not sure. If you like and would like to see it continued send me a review!! Any input is greatly appreciated!! I hope you enjoy it!!!!

Remember Me

~It's not enough to say I've loved and lost~

No, that would be too easy, too simple. His life had been so cold, so meaningless before...before her. Like a warm breeze she had subtly changed him...warmed him.

But he had been too stubborn to notice. Too proud to acknowledge the emotions she stirred in him, emotions he had vowed to never feel again.

Such things made a person weak, they made a person vulnerable. He was not a weak man. Powerful, cold and calculating. These were the words that described him. These were the words his enemies and allies whispered to each other behind his back. Friend or foe he was respected, he was revered...he was feared.

That was the way he wanted it, that was the way he had chosen to lead his life. A life of solitude, a life of power. This was what he had wanted, what he fought for, a life he had spent centuries building.

Yet it taken only a moment for it all to change, it had only taken an instant for his walls to crumble.

She had beaten him. With one look, one fiery gaze of defiance, she had completely destroyed him. And there was no turning back.

She had stood there, her raven hair whipping furiously about her face, her cheeks flaming in anger, her eyes hardened in determination. She stood, with an arrow in hand, and dared to prevent him from achieving the object of his greatest desire.

The Tetsusaiga. The omnipotent fang of his Father. It should have been his.

But her arrow could have killed him. The thought that a mere human held the power to destroy him disgusted him, but it was true nonetheless. As long as she stood there, between him and the worthless hanyou that possessed the sword, his dream of acquiring the fang would be just out of his reach.

He remembered the white hot fury that coursed through his body, the beast in him had taken over and it wanted blood, her blood. But through the red haze of anger he saw something, a flash in her eyes, a softening. Through the crimson of hatred he saw something that would change him forever.

Sympathy...for him. A demon who was moments away from killing her. To a man whose heart had long ago ceased feeling, the depth of her compassion was unfathomable and unbelievable.

If he had to pick one instant, the one individual moment in time that he fell...it would have had to have been then.

Granted the fall had been small, imperceptible really in its magnitude. But for a man who had stood alone on his precipice of power it was devastating, and it nearly broke him.

To feel his frozen heart begin to slowly beat with life again was shocking, and it was painful.

She had made him forget. In slow, but determined steps, he walked over to her. Heedless of the arrow still poised at his chest. He stopped when he felt the tip of the arrow through his clothes.

Her eyes widened, yet she did not run, she did not scream. She wasn't afraid. And he found he didn't want her fear. The implications of that realization left him reeling and unsure.

He hated her at that moment, hated her for evoking such weaknesses, such vulnerabilities.

He extended one clawed hand and cupped her cheek, on finger stroked the welcoming softness of her skin, a tender caress that belied the lethal power raging in his blood.

Then she had done the most remarkable thing. She had dropped her arrow, the only thing stopping him from snapping her neck, the only thing keeping him from spilling her blood.

In a moment that would forever be emblazoned in his memory, and his heart, she had timidly extended her own hand. So fragile compared to his, and mimicking his own actions, cupped his cheek.

The warmth of her fingers burned his skin; the contact of her skin on his was unexpected. She traced the magenta stripes on his cheek in wonder and fascination.

And then she smiled...a purely beautiful smile that touched his soul.

She smiled for him.

~Just a thought to know I had it all~

He had left her standing there that day, intent on never seeing her again, even if it meant abandoning his quest for the Tetsusaiga.

Some things were more important, his power, his control, his sanity, these were more important, more vital. Or so he had believed.

But it seemed fate had a different plan in mind, a different road for him to travel. And even he, the almighty Sesshoumaru, could not change the course of fate.

His resolve to stay away from the miko had lasted for awhile. He had begun to forget that day; he had begun to forget the look in her eyes and the touch of her skin. The beating of his heart began to slow, the warmth that had crept into his soul chilled once more.

He was alone once more.

Until the time had come to destroy him, to destroy the evil that threatened to take over their world, threatened to destroy it.

Naraku. It was ironic really that the one man who so violently sought their death, his death, was the one to bring him closer to her, closer to living.

As much as his pride protested, he knew could not destroy the evil hanyou on his own, so he had approached the traveling group of his half brother, of her.

Upon the sight of him, his overeager half brother had immediately brandished his sword, intent on attacking him.

But she had stopped him, with one magical word she had prevented Inu Yasha, to whom she had, in the past, proven to be fiercely loyal to.

But something had changed. He remembered. It was subtle, nearly invisible, but obvious to his perceptive eyes.

It took him awhile to put a name to the difference in her, but then it dawned on him, the hardness of her eyes, the paleness of her face, and the sadness, the overwhelming grief that surrounded her.

She was cold. That had been it, the fire that had once raged so brightly, so fiercely within her had diminished, it had been extinguished. And he knew it was because of Inu Yasha.

He recalled the raging hatred he felt at that moment for his heartless half brother, a hatred that had nothing to do with his inheritance and everything to do with the beautiful miko he had so carelessly tossed aside.

And for what? A heap of decayed flesh and rotting bones? Because in that group he sought out he had discovered a newer member, the dead miko Inu Yasha had nearly died for long ago. She had joined their ranks, and she blinded his idiotic brother to the treasure that he had held for so long. Because although she had returned, she would never be the same woman she had once been, Kikyou, Inu Yasha's first love, was dead, and she would never love him again.

But her, Kikyou's reincarnate, Kagome, had loved Inu Yasha from the beginning. She had loved him freely, openly, and honestly. Now she was paying for it.

Then she had spoken, a wondrous lyrical melody flooded his senses.

"Sesshoumaru-sama, say what you have come to say."

Then he had offered his aid and proposed a truce. He distinctly remembered the way her head had cocked to the side, as if she were weighing the truth of his words. He remembered the slight and quick nod of her head as she silently accepted his offer.

Once Kagome had voiced her own acceptance the rest of the group was quick to join in, seemingly willing to trust her judgment.

And that was how he had come to travel with the rag-tag group, that was how he broke his vow.

And then one night, the desperate hold he held on his vow was shattered, any semblance of it scattered to the four winds.

He hadn't known she was there. He had only sought the solace of solitude, not knowing that she sought the same thing.

Beneath the cover of darkness he held her while she cried. The moon the only witness to his first act of compassion.

He could still feel her. The silkiness of her hair as it brushed against his chin, the wetness of her tears as they fell on his hand, and the softness of her body as it trembled in grief.

Her sadness was beautiful, it captivated him, tempted him. He held her for hours, letting her weep, letting her mourn.

Maybe, just maybe, she could cry for the both of them.

As the battle drew near an uneasy bond had formed, not between demon and miko, not between ally and friend, but between man and woman.

~Do you still remember me?~

~How could you forget?~

She had gone. Back to her world, back to her time. She had returned to a place where she knew she would be loved.

The defeat of Naraku had proven to be anti-climatic. Almost a disappointment, he had been defeated so easily. The evil of the hanyou had been no match for the sheer hatred and desire for revenge of the individuals who fought him.

She had dealt the final blow. In blinding wave of pink she had purified him, erased his black existence from their world.

He no longer had a reason to stay, no longer had an excuse to be near her.

She had made her wish on the sacred jewel. A pure, unselfish wish that ensured its destruction.

A soul. She had wished for a soul for her incarnate. A woman, she said, who had suffered enough, a woman who deserved peace and happiness with the only one she had ever loved.

Inu Yasha and Kikyou. Together once more, it was destiny, their joining had been destined she had reasoned. No matter how much it hurt or how much it cost her to make that wish she had done it. She had done it with resolve; she had done it with bravery.

That was when he knew. That was he knew that for the rest of his life there would always be one constant, one truth in his life.

He loved her.

~You're everything I need; I'm out here on a ledge~

And now he stood, on the edge of the precipice, the edge of the mountain he had built so long ago, ready to jump, ready to fall.

She was worth the risk, she was worth the pain.

For so long he had traveled alone, his world a lonely prison, one he knowingly created. He had once believed he didn't need anything, he didn't need anyone. But it had all been a lie.

He needed her. She brought color into his world. Because of her he appreciated those first bright colors of spring, the smoky scent of rain, and the vivid pain of heartbreak.

She could never love him. She could never love the man who hid behind a stony mask of indifference.

She could never love him because she would never know that he loved her.

~There are no words for me to say~

~And too much to regret~

Indeed, there was nothing he could say to her; nothing he could do to erase the grief that still lingered in her eyes, the pain that seemed to haunt her.

He had tried, a million times, to put words to the thoughts that crowed his mind and screamed for release. But every time he thought he had found the perfect phrasing and the courage to speak it out loud he would catch her, glancing wistfully at the happy couple who were so in love. The happy couple she had created.

So he kept his words to himself, believing that she still longed for him, Inu Yasha. All this time he kept quiet, never knowing that she didn't wish for the love of his half-brother, never knowing that she simply wished for the one thing he, Sesshoumaru, could have given her.

Love.

So he would watch her leave. Watch her disappear into the mysterious depths of a well that would take her away from him, 500 years into the future, 500 years out of his reach.

And for the first time in his life he was left to feel the pain of regret.

Perhaps silence wasn't the answer after all.

~You're where I should be~

~Do you remember when?~

It took her leaving for him to realize the fatal error he had made. He had been too afraid to admit his true feelings, too anxious of what she might say, too scared of the rejection he was sure she would deliver.

But he wasn't too sure anymore.

He had lost her through cowardice.

~I let you go what was I thinking of~

~I'll never know what it's like to love~

Love, an emotion he had finally embraced, a feeling he had finally allowed to melt the ice around his heart and heal the pain in his soul.

But he soon learned that there was no pain that compared to the unbearable ache of unrequited love.

But he, Sesshoumaru, Lord of The Western Lands, was a responsible man. He took responsibility for his pain; the blame was his and his alone.

He had let her go.

~There's no way, how can I replace~

~A love so strong, when I can't forget your face~

She haunted him. That face, those eyes, the touch of her skin, the silkiness of her hair. He carried a picture of her, beautifully angry and defiant, holding an arrow and ready to kill, he held this image in his mind, and in his heart.

His mind refused to erase the beauty of her face. His heart refused to let go.

She was his first love, she would never be replaced.

~Do you remember you and me?~

~Because I remember everything~

He silently prayed that she had not forgotten, he secretly wished that their time together had meant something to her. That she remembered it still, that she looked upon it with fondness and a smile.

Was it too much to ask? Maybe. But it didn't matter. He could remember enough for the both of them.

He twirled the dark blue flower between his fingers, a flower whose midnight blue hue reminded him so much of her eyes.

He dropped it into the depths of the well and watched as it slowly fluttered to the bottom, succumbing to the darkness until the brilliant color of it disappeared forever, as she once had.

What was it she had said? What was it she had told him when he had asked how she found the strength to live, the strength to face each day?

"Hope, Sesshoumaru-sama, hope that tomorrow will be better than today."

Yes hope. Hope gave him the strength to believe that he was not destined to be alone. It was hope that would ease his pain and prevent his heart from freezing once again.

And it was hope that, in the wake of sadness and grief, gave him the strength to smile.