TITLE: Letting Go
AUTHOR: Ankh Ascendant ( setosgirl0 / neferseti0 )
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Inuyasha, or make any money from it.
CONTINUITY: Manga, post-series
SUMMARY: Sesshoumaru has gone to throw away his attachment to his father.
NOTES: Written for the LiteraryFanFiction group on deviantART, the Flash FanFiction Friday prompt of “renewal”.
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The cold breath of the afterlife sighs through the portal. Cool light comes with it, almost blinding, but Sesshoumaru’s nose tells him more than his eyes ever could; the scent of the dead land is changeless dust. He can picture it without having to set a foot beyond these gates again, a single eternal day in a barren landscape of skeletons. A place of conclusion.
He resheathes Tenseiga and holds it in his reborn left hand, ready to let it go. The warmth of the simple scabbard feels somehow to resonate with the light of the doorway, two expressions of the same power. It is clear to which world this sword truly belongs.
Nothing of any consequence will happen if he throws the sword away. The power, however his father stole it from that dead world, would be given back, and this chapter would finally be closed forever. He had no other intentions in coming here.
And yet he hesitates.
He has been told over and over to relinquish any attachment to his father; he has been told that only in doing so was he finally able to heal the wound left by his father’s sword in his brother’s hands. He has been told that he had now surpassed his father’s own strength, and so there is nothing more of him to hold onto. He does not yet know why attachment to his father should be a flaw.
It would be too much to say that he ever cared for the man, any more than the man ever cared for him; that disregard is obvious in this sword itself, this calculated insult that was his sole inheritance. A power given to him only because he would never use it and a tool to further empower the favored son.
He should throw it away.
He looks down at the sword, running his clawed thumb over the handguard in distant consideration.
There was never care or fondness between them, but his father’s power was and remains difficult to ignore, impossible to deny. If there is one person in the world he has ever respected – and there may be only one – it was his father. In Tessaiga his power still lives, blessing and protecting Inuyasha and making him stronger by the day, and it is undeniable. Even he, the all-powerful Sesshoumaru, will never challenge it again. Is the suggestion that he should disrespect his father, then?
Throwing away Tenseiga would be that – a final rejection of his father’s power over him. He no longer wants anything from him, and in this he will refuse his inheritance, his father’s insults, and any help his father would have given him all at once.
But perhaps even hating him is too much attachment.
This sword is not Tessaiga; it may have been created for him, but it is not his father’s power, it was never a part of him, and it does not represent him. He didn’t realize before coming here to discard it just how little of his father is in it. It is a piece of that dead world which has been tamed and shaped, a power independent of its creator or commissioner. There is no reason it should be a reminder of his father at all, if he does not want it to be.
He raises his eyes back to the cold portal and slides Tenseiga back through his obi, turning away. He will keep it, then, not because it is his father’s this time, but because it isn’t.
It is his.