A/N: You people have me listening to Christmas music in the summer for this story! But, it's the Trans-Siberian Orchestra, so I really don't mind. Although the music doesn't quite fit the traditional way it's played in this chapter…. Oh well!

(Note: Those statements tell you just how slow I am… I started this chapter in the summer, and now look… I'm very sorry about that, but I've been tremendously busy…)

Warning: This chapter isn't as funny as the other ones. It's more for 'cuteness' than anything else. (Although Sess isn't in the brightest mood at the beginning…or at the end, for that matter…)

Also, please forgive an odd formatting...QuickEdit was acting strange(r) when I was uploading this... And I hate how ellipses turn out...

Chapter Five: The Gift of Music...

December 20 - evening

It was moments like this when Sesshoumaru truly despised having musical training. Usually it was an advantage, especially when his boss wanted him to entertain his guests at home parties. Simply sit down at the piano and not have to talk to anyone. You won't make the mistake of saying something you shouldn't, making some sort of unknown faux pas, or appearing anti-social. All you have to do is hurt your fingers.

But now…now there wasn't anything good about it.

"Play that old song-- King Wenceslas. I haven't heard that one in some time now!" Grandmother Kaede commanded from her straight-backed chair. She was directly beside the piano bench, practically leaning over on top of him. She pointed at the keys. "I taught you that one, remember? Back when my fingers were still good."

"Yes, I remember," he struggled to get out politely, ready to tell the woman to shut up at any minute now. He would--if he was suicidal. Which he wasn't. Yet.

It had been this way for the past half-hour. Somehow--he didn't remember--he'd gotten roped into coming in the family room. To be entertainment for the adults. He felt like some adolescent shoved on stage in an uncomfortable suit in order to play scales for ecstatic parents. Which was something he'd had to do more than once, actually. And that was ecstatic parents and grandparents.

But that was another time. And he had won the competitions… But still…

He didn't really understand why they were making him do this. No one was paying attention to him. Except for his grandmother, of course. All of his other relatives were occupied in blathering; he never knew their lives could be so boring. Most of the time his playing was overridden by his more boisterous uncles' voices.

Sesshoumaru also didn't understand when they'd become brave--and stupid--enough to leave their devil offspring alone in the other room.

As he placed his fingers in the proper positions, he decided that as long as he didn't have to be out there, this couldn't be that terrible. Being the focus of his grandmother's attention every ten or so minutes couldn't be anywhere near as painful as being mediator to idiots.

It wasn't as if he didn't like playing, anyway. He barely got the chance to do so in his free time.

His hands began making the familiar motions of the long-since-learned music, and he was able to lend half an ear to the surrounding conversations. Grandmother Kaede set back, a rather pleased look on her face.

"See, Inutaisho," she remarked, interrupting whatever he'd been saying. "Isn't it nice having a child who can appreciate the fine art of music? I never understood why you never let me train your other children."

Inutaisho cleared his throat, once, and Sesshoumaru knew he was annoyed. "Mother, I told you before that it was up to the others if they wanted to learn. They had no interest. Besides, you don't live close enough anymore."

"That's right," Asako spoke up, gently. "Besides, Kagome was interested in the flute, not piano. And Inu-Yasha won't even look at a sheet of music. Neither will Souta, for that matter." She chuckled. "Boys will be boys, I guess."

"Hmph. If you'd started at a young age, you could have them all interested. Isn't that right, Inutaisho? We started with Sesshoumaru when he was what, three?"

Sesshoumaru caught himself seconds before hitting a rotten note. His shoulders tensed up in annoyance and he forced himself to relax. Didn't they know he was right here? What, was he deaf now?

Seriously, you'd think he was a teenager again. Perhaps they'd forgotten the ten years he had over the children in the living room. Twenty-six was a bit different than sixteen.

And he was going to tell them that too, when his father spoke. "Mother. That was a long time ago. I'm sure Sesshoumaru doesn't want to talk about his childhood, isn't that right?"

Knowing that he was talking to him, Sesshoumaru glanced over his shoulder. "Rather astute of you."

He didn't know what to expect with that sarcastic comment, but he was rather shocked to see his father laugh.

"So, Sesshoumaru, how's business in the Big Apple, anyhow?" It was Hiten, who had sunk down on the old couch. "Asako says your part of big business now. "

Sesshoumaru sighed, internally. He should have known that as soon as he spoke, they'd be on him like vultures. "Junior Executive at the Withop and Sons Accounting Firm," he replied, sliding into O Holy Night. "Been there for three years."

"Accounting?" That was Rouyakan, sounding just as confused as usual. And as loud as usual. That man didn't know what a polite indoor tone was. "How big a place can that be?"

"Sizeable. I've been overseas--Japan usually, because of my last name."

That caused a moment of silence. Sesshoumaru couldn't help feeling smug. Let them have that.

The attitude faded away when Inutaisho spoke up, his tone strangely subdued. "You've never told me that…"

Sesshoumaru looked down at the black and white keys, although he didn't need to. "You never asked."

There was a beat of silence, which Asako eagerly jumped in to fill. "Well! What are we going to do about Izayoi's late arrival? Inutaisho?"

There was a pause. "Probably have someone wait for her," Inutaisho remarked. He sounded somewhat distracted.

Sesshoumaru made a smooth transition into God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, yet he played it at a rather unnecessary forte. He felt eyes on his back and he refused to turn. Besides, the keys could use some pounding anyway. No one else used them.

"Who's gonna stay behind?" Hiten spoke up. "It isn't going to be me--I'm not passing up food for her."

"She's always late," Manten added. As if it was something new.

Asako made a noise that suggested she was thinking. "Well, I can't think of anyone who'd be willing to stay. Everyone wants a free breakfast." She chuckled, getting a few sheepish sounds from the others in the room. "It's okay. We do it every year anyway. Although it's the first time Izayoi had been this late."

"Well, there was her own wedding…" Hiten reminded.

Asako sighed. "That's right."

"I don't suppose any of the kids could stay," Myouga suggested in his squeaky voice.

"No, I don't want to leave any of them home," Asako replied. "Besides, when have you ever known them to give up a chance to eat?"

"It's back to the food again," Rouyakan snorted. "The way this is going we might as well just stay here and eat."

"No, we can't do that!" Asako insisted. "We have reservations and--Inutaisho?"

It wasn't warning enough. Sesshoumaru's fingers slid over the keys, hitting a few dissonant chords when a hand dropped on his shoulder. He went to turn around, but stopped when his father leaned over his shoulder.

"Would you do it for us, Sesshoumaru?" he asked, softly. It was low enough that Sesshoumaru saw his Grandmother lean forward in an attempt to hear.

Sesshoumaru stared straight down at the keys, starting up another song as if nothing had happened. It sounded rather loud in the sudden break in prattle.

Inutaisho's fingers tightened on his shoulder. "Well?" he asked.

"Are you certain that you want me to?" He hadn't really meant to ask that, but it slipped out anyhow. Sesshoumaru cursed himself inwardly.

"I thought you would want to," Inutaisho countered.

Sesshoumaru turned his head slightly to glance back at him. Inutaisho moved back a bit, raising an eyebrow in obvious question. There was a strange smile on his face. "Well?"

"All right." If he was offering a way out, Sesshoumaru was going to take it.

"See there?" Inutaisho addressed the others in the room, still not removing his hand. "Sesshoumaru will stay here for us."

"But, Inutaisho--" Asako began, sounding confused.

"Asako, you're worrying too much," Inutaisho cut her off. Sesshoumaru glanced at him again out of the corner of his eye. Something was up and he hated not knowing.

Although he wasn't sure he would really care what it was. Let it stay between the two lovebirds. He made a rather abrupt change into Joy to the World, a change that seemed to startle his father, since he jumped.

"But he doesn't eat enough as it is, Inutaisho!" Kaede spoke up suddenly, leaning forward again. "How to you expect to have a good-looking boy when he's that sk--"

"Mother." It was Inutaisho's no-nonsense tone. The one his other brother envied. It was the only thing that stopped Grandmother Kaede.

Usually. "Don't you talk to me like that, young man!"

Sesshoumaru had enough. He stopped the song short and closed the lid over the keys. That shut them up.

He stood up just as abruptly, got out from behind the bench, then pushed it back in. Only then did he face them all. He said nothing at first, enjoying their confused stares. Not something he was proud of, but he enjoyed it nonetheless.

He even gave them all a little bow. "Good night, everyone."

His relatives gave a few more stares, before they all murmured their own "good nights." Asako got up to her feet, giving her biggest smile. "Thank you for playing for us, Sesshoumaru."

Sesshoumaru let his eyes rest on her for a long moment, and was rewarded with her shifting awkwardly. "Of course." He'd always been able to intimidate her. If only she'd get it and leave him be.

After that was over with, he went through the customary procedure of wishing both his father and grandmother good night separately. Grandmother Kaede said something about it being about time that he got some sleep. Inutaisho only nodded.

It wasn't five seconds after he left the room that he heard his Grandmother say his name. Sesshoumaru ignored her.

Let her prattle. He was going to make this day end.

The dining room was dark now, illuminated only by the gaudy lights in the window. Thinking it quite suitable for his mood, Sesshoumaru stopped by the curtain and drew it back. The yard was moonlit and covered with days-old snow that was turning gray around the edges of the driveway.

It was also quiet. Something he missed terribly.

"Mm?"

Sesshoumaru dropped the curtain and spun around. Standing by the table behind him was that little girl again. Her eyes shone strangely in the multi-colored light.

Almost like some little ghost.

Shaking off his morbid mood, Sesshoumaru turned back to the window. "And what do you want?"

"Ah!" It was a happy sound, almost like a giggle. Sesshoumaru couldn't help but turn around. Rin was smiling happily.

"You never quit, do you?"

"Uh." The little girl crossed the dark room to stop right next to him. Sesshoumaru took an involuntary step back, but Rin simply reached out and pushed the other curtain back the slightest bit so that she could see out. Her smile widened, a look of fascinated joy spreading through her eyes

The two stood side by side in the dark. Sesshoumaru watched the little girl and her seemingly endless fascination with such simple things. It was incredible.

"You should go back to Kagome."

Rin wasn't startled at all. She simply gazed up at him, smiled softly, and then wandered back a few steps. The little girl hovered by the end of the table, seeming to be waiting for something.

Sesshoumaru regarded her coldly, becoming annoyed with her childish stalking. "What did I just say?"

Rin blinked at him, and her smile faded somewhat. She stared at him with those dark eyes of hers, before she cocked her head, grinned sadly, and waved. She hummed something in an almost singsong tone, before turning around and disappearing into the hallway.

Sesshoumaru watched her go in silence. He still stood there after she'd left, trying to understand something.

Why the hell was he feeling guilty?

---

December 21 - Morning

Surprisingly enough, the day dawned halfway decently. When he woke up, there was still time before the morning really began. So, he decided to stay in his room to avoid the inevitable stampede. Which was as loud, chaotic, and nerve-racking as he'd thought it would be.

Sesshoumaru stretched his legs out along the bedcovers, shifted the book in his fingers, and listened as Naraku went raging down the hall towards the guest bathroom; the third time he'd taken this route so far. There was a small obnoxious conversation, and back he went again, pounding down the stairs, ranting on how no one could get a "damn shower around here!"

Kouga and Inu-Yasha were arguing. Not very surprising. He didn't know what it was about, but undoubtedly it was something idiotic. One of the many children was running down the hall screaming at the top of their lungs, Kagome most likely chasing after. Someone--it sounded vaguely like Jakotsu--was whining about wrinkled clothing and asking for an iron. Grandmother Kaede was lecturing someone (if they listened or not was another story).

Sesshoumaru could never understand how his father could handle the torture on his house (and nerves). The house was large, but extra rooms downstairs and over the garage had to be attached later on to store all the causes of this chaos. And still many of them needed to share rooms.

Thankfully, one of those rooms wasn't his.

Somewhere in the midst of the sea of relatives, Sesshoumaru heard someone knock on his door. Adjusting the end of his robe around his legs, he readied his book to be thrown if the situation called for it. Although, anyone who was a real threat knew better than to come in here. And they wouldn't knock. "Come in."

The door cracked open and Inutaisho slipped in. He pushed the door closed with his back, an over-exaggerated harried expression on his face. "It was like crossing a highway out there!" he joked, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow.

Sesshoumaru simply raised an eyebrow. "You should have thought of that long ago."

Inutaisho was good at ignoring shots. Instead he grinned, as if he didn't know what was behind those words. "Oh, I did. Asako wouldn't let me install stoplights."

Sesshoumaru wasn't inclined to laugh. He set down his book in a less threatening position on the bed and pushed himself up higher on his stack of pillows. "Can I help you?"

Inutaisho's humorous grin faded to just a faint afterglow. "Well, I should be asking you that, your highness. Sitting here propped up on piles of pillows in a relaxing robe as I play round-up."

"First of all, these pillows are rather flat," he began, dryly. "And second of all, if I don't need to be out there, I'd rather save the risk of being run down for another day."

Inutaisho surprised him. He laughed. And he took Sesshoumaru's limited shock as a chance to come farther into the room and sit down on the edge of the bed. He completely ignored the obvious "go away" vibes he was getting from his son.

"Is that the humor you use to entertain your boss' business partners?" he asked, simply.

Sesshoumaru didn't replied. He didn't even hear him.

He was too busy trying to think of the last time that his father had done this. Sat down at the end of his bed for a conversation.

The last he remembered was when his mother died.

Why the hell is he doing this now? He asked himself with a scowl. It was as if Inutaisho was treating him like a teenager--just like his other kids were.

That thought soured Sesshoumaru's mood considerably. He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Inutaisho moved over to make more room, but Sesshoumaru remained near the headboard, shuffling around for his slippers with his feet.

"Well?" Inutaisho asked, after a moment of quiet.

"Well, what?" Sesshoumaru shot back, finally locating the left slipper, which had ended up turned upside down under the bed.

Inutaisho sighed. "Never mind." Someone else shouted out in the hallway and Sesshoumaru glanced over at his father just in time to see him shake his head. "People say that teenagers can turn the house upside down. They should try the whole family." Inutaisho grinned slightly, turning to look at his son. "I appreciate you staying behind."

"You told me that plainly enough last night."

Inutaisho frowned in puzzlement. "I did? I don't remember saying anything."

"You didn't have to." Locating his other slipper, Sesshoumaru put it on and stood up. He reached up to run his fingers through his hair, wincing slightly at the snarls. "Your actions were enough."

Sesshoumaru expected Inutaisho to be on that right away. But, instead, there was a weighty silence. Sesshoumaru glanced back at him as he opened his temporary closet. Inutaisho sat with his arms resting on his knees, staring at the vanity mirror. His eyes looked faraway and thoughtful.

So he interrupted him.

"I assume you came here for something?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes." Inutaisho shook himself out of his daze. "I just wanted to double-check with you on a few things before we leave."

"If you're going to remind me to lock the doors, I can assure you I've gotten that down by now," Sesshoumaru informed him, dryly, as he pushed through his clothes. It was easy to choose an outfit--he had most of them arranged already. But he kept up the act in order to appear busy.

Inutaisho snorted a laugh. "I would hope so." He shifted on the bed, causing the springs to creak. "Actually, I just wanted to tell you that I'm going to let the dogs out before I go. They've been cooped up in the old barn for too long; they need some time outdoors."

"You fixed the fence, then?"

That had been quite the event. Last year Inu-Yasha, the idiot he was, had run into the fence around the dog pen with his new snow mobile. Needless to say, his father's pets had had a pleasant time playing in the snow as they--the Family--had all attempted to chase them back into their confines. Not the first thing he wanted to do in ankle-high snowdrifts and a negative-degree wind-chill.

He'd ruined a rather nice pair of boots doing that…

"Well, actually, believe it or not, I made Inu-Yasha fix it. And pay for it."

"Really?" He found that hard to believe. "You mean he didn't weasel his way out of it this time?"

"The dogs are my area--Asako has no say in them."

Ah. That explained it. Asako didn't have the chance to let her eldest escape. Which was a true shock--normally she'd find a way to get any of them out of such an "accident".

Not to say she didn't punish anyone--that was an understatement. It depended entirely upon what it was--she usually only attacked for something big. She was usually an easy-going woman, but when she got angry, Asako got angry. She didn't indulge in the exploding-vocals that Kagome used; just having her frown at you was enough. Sesshoumaru had experienced many Inu-Yasha escape attempts deflate under his mother's stare. It was rather amusing.

"I also wanted to say that Izayoi called this morning. She said she was hoping to get here around ten. We'll be back by eleven or so."

"Hmm. Did she say why she was late?"

"No."

Sesshoumaru glanced over his shoulder at his father. That answer was too short. It wasn't exactly a lie--more like he was uncomfortable, either with not knowing or that he did know and couldn't tell. "Is that so?"

Inutaisho got to his feet instead of answering. "You know your Aunt, she's one impulsive lady." Crossing the room, he stopped by the door. "Oh, at least make one appearance this morning, will you? It would please your grandmother."

He'd known that that had been coming. "Certainly," he replied, cynically. "I can see what else I have to fix today."

Inutaisho sighed. "Yes, I know, I know. She can be rather overbearing. Especially since Dad died." He looked up, an almost pleading look on his face. "But, she means well. You know that."

Sesshoumaru only grunted noncommittally in reply, waving a hand in farewell.

It was only when the door clicked shut that he let his forehead hit the closet door and he sighed.

What was it with this family?

---

"And make sure you eat too, boy! I don't want you wasting away!"

"Yes, Grandmother."

"And get dressed! Why are you still in a robe?"

Sesshoumaru willed his patience to live five more minutes. "I was waiting for all of you to finish first, Grandmother."

The old woman huffed, knocking her cane on the tile floor with a sharp rap. "That's no way to be, boy! You have to get right in there!"

"Yeah," Inu-Yasha snickered behind him. "I'm sure Kagura would share one with you…"

Said cousin didn't even blush. But she did get angry. "Why, you rotten--"

The entryway had never seemed so small. It held over twenty people that were dressed for winter. And with half of them unable to stand still for over a second. Add to that a cousin trying her best to wring a certain idiot's neck and the subsequent referees, it was a bit of a tight area.

From his position on the bottom set of stairs, Sesshoumaru tried to stay as far out of the madness range as he could. And he found that it was nearly impossible.

"All right, everyone!" Inutaisho shouted over the crowd. He waved his arms above his head to get their attention. He looked so much like a little kid that Sesshoumaru couldn't help but smirk. "It's time to go!"

The door opened and a blast of cold air blew in. There was a general grumble as the whole herd attempted to get out the door. Sesshoumaru took a step back with a scowl. Damn, it was cold outside.

Another good reason to stay home.

"You sure you don't need me to stay here with you?"

Sesshoumaru glared down at Miroku--who had somehow ended up over here again. The teenager grinned up, as he had the other hundred times he'd asked the same question.

"For the umpteenth time today, yes, I'm certain. I would hope your brain hasn't become so damaged by now that you can't remember that."

Miroku grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. He was never one to take sarcasm to heart--which was what often got him in trouble. "Can't blame me for asking, now can you?"

"I'm sure Sango could."

Miroku laughed, nervously. "Uh…yes, she would, wouldn't she?" He spread his hands out in an innocent gesture. "Although I don't know why she has such a grudge…"

"I'm sure you don't," Sesshoumaru drawled, sarcastically. "Now, if you'd be so kind as to be on your way…"

It didn't take Miroku long to take the hint and he made a hasty retreat. Having enough of the cold air and watching the multi-colored cattle meander through the door, Sesshoumaru started up the stairs.

Halfway up, he heard his name. Turning around, he saw Kagome waving at him, her mouth moving. But he didn't hear her.

Not really caring what she had to say he simply nodded and continued on his way.

It probably wasn't anything important, anyway.

---

He had to admit it. The house seemed rather large and empty when he was the only one there.

Newly showered and dressed in what for him was casual wear-- black trousers and a white fleece sweater--Sesshoumaru stood in the entryway, simply enjoying the new silence. He hadn't been in this house alone in almost ten years--it was a very foreign concept.

It was moments like this that you actually realized the sheer size of the house, and comprehended how much money had gone into the thing. Money his father had undoubtedly thought well spent for the family.

For the Family.

Sesshoumaru wandered into the living room and wasn't surprised to see the mess inside. The room could have been a war zone of children's toys. He even saw a doll that was missing a head tossed in some dark corner.

Braving the disaster, he picked his way across the carpet, toeing a few odd objects along the way. He barely missed trampling a broken crayon of a rather ugly brown, which would have looked so lovely smashed into the beige carpeting.

Seeing all this mess just made him itch to clean it. A compulsion Inutaisho had told him long ago must have come from his mother, since he -- Inutaisho-- was one of the messiest men alive.

Sometimes Sesshoumaru tried to imagine that was the only reason he married Asako--so he'd have someone to clean up after him. That was far from the truth--obviously--but he liked to dream sometimes.

Sesshoumaru stopped in front of the fireplace and glanced into the dark screen of the television mounted on the wall above. He didn't look at himself; he studied the reversed image of the rest of the house instead, remembering when his father had first showed him the place. It had only been framework then, but Inutaisho had been almost bursting with happiness at the idea of finally owning a house.

Sesshoumaru could have cared less. He'd just wanted to move out of the apartment.

He sighed, then smirked humorlessly at his reflection. Stupid. He should have known that wouldn't help.

It was hard to forget the home your mother died in.

Although Asako didn't believe that for a second. She'd thought that he'd forget it all just by her being nice to him. Laughable.

He hadn't appreciated it at all. The little woman who tried to push away whatever goodness still existed in his mother's dark memory. Pushing and pushing, trying to make them all fit together.

And then she took his father away. Sesshoumaru was surprised, sometimes, that he didn't hate the woman. Instead, he just found her tedious, with her eternal cheerfulness. He hadn't even hated her back then. He'd just wanted her to leave him alone. If she loved his father, fine. If they wanted to get married, go ahead. Have a whole swarm of little cretins? Have at it.

Just stop trying to be something she wasn't.

He stared at himself for a long moment, then, growing tired of it, looked around the room once more. Something caught his eye, lying half-hidden behind the chair. It looked like one of those over-large children sketchbooks. And it appeared that someone was trying to hide it away, since only a small corner was left to stick out.

And this had him quite intrigued, in the face of all this open mess. Picking his way through the sea of toys, he bent over and pulled it out. The cover was still in perfect-condition. Oddly enough. Not even a stray doodle on the bright yellow backing.

Flipping open the top page, he saw nothing but a few crayon scribbles, bright girlish colors that gave away the gender immediately. Flipping through a few more pages, he froze halfway through turning one of them.

Staring up at him was a page drawn completely in red. Three boxy people stood in the center. One was crying, another, which was in a dress, looked frightened, and the last looked angry. A wide circle of squiggle red circled them, small lines of it running under the figures.

There was another person outside the circle, with a smile that took up over half their face. They had no eyes, and their body was colored in with angry, deep strokes. A few pieces of wax still remained on the arms, where the red was the darkest.

At the very corner of the image was a small bear, drawn almost to perfection with huge, teary eyes.

He dropped it. The book hit the floor with a muffle slap and he could only stare at it.

What was that?

Then he remembered something. A certain little girl sitting in the corner all alone with her red crayon, drawing away. The little girl who smiled at him even as she clutched her picture to her chest.

Rin had drawn that?

Sesshoumaru just couldn't connect that drawing to that smiling child. It just didn't fit. It…didn't.

But, if he analyzed it logically, there could be no other answer. He'd seen her at work on it. And the girl was mute--obviously from some sort of trauma. Not too difficult to put together.

Yet, to him, it just didn't fit.

Sesshoumaru glared at the book with a sense of confused frustration, as if it was the piece of cardboard's fault he felt that way. Halfway through the one-sided staring contest, he came to the conclusion that he'd keep the little girl's privacy for now. It wasn't as if the orphanage didn't have counselors and all that for her. What could he do about it?

As he picked up the corner of the sketchpad--almost as if it would bite him--and pushed it back under the chair, he couldn't help the thin thread of guilt that ran through him. Or the unpleasant thought that tugged at the back of his mind--if they had so many chances to help the girl at the orphanage, why wasn't she talking yet?

It was his absorption with these unwanted questions that made the sudden peal of disharmonious piano keys startle him so much. He visibly jumped, head whipping around towards the sound. And he rammed the side of his knee straight into the wooden arm of the chair in the process. Cursing loud and crass enough to make even Inu-Yasha uncomfortable, Sesshoumaru limped around the furniture and made his ungainly way towards the family room.

He wasn't worried about moving quietly. Whoever the hell it was couldn't be robbing the place--no one could have hit the keys without lifting the lid and no self-respecting criminal would stop and play the damn piano.

And continue to play it, badly, at that. Whoever it was, they weren't being secretive. They were merrily playing away, hitting a good chord now and then on accident.

Rubbing his aching knee with one hand, Sesshoumaru used his other to steady his hobbling walk down the hall. He didn't care how undignified it appeared. No one was there to see him, anyhow.

They were too busy beating his piano to death.

By the time he rounded the corner and into the room, Sesshoumaru could stand up straight. But that didn't mean he let go of the wall. He was using it to support himself as he stared into the room in shock.

Sitting on the bench, her feet swinging to some hidden tune, her fingers stabbing into the keyboard, was Rin. Appearing as if conjured out of thin air.

The first thought that ran through his mind was: what the fuck is she doing here?

His second was: Kagome. I'm going to kill you.

It was all her fault this was happening to him. This little stalker child.

Rin must have noticed his arrival. She stopped playing and turned to face him with a huge smile. Waving her one hand in greeting, she pointed to the keys with her other.

Sesshoumaru just stared at her blankly.

Rin waved and jabbed her finger at the piano again.

You have got to be kidding me.

The very girl who had drawn those ghastly pictures…wanted him to play the piano.

Not really knowing what to say to that, Sesshoumaru said the first thing that had come to mine. Without the profanity, of course. "Why are you here?"

Rin's smiled faded into a confused expression. As if he was already supposed to know.

Of course. This had to have been what Kagome had shouted up the stairs to him. It just figured that the girl had to leave something this important to the last possible second. And that he ignored her.

Still hovering by the doorway as if the child on the bench would attack him, Sesshoumaru answered his own question. "Kagome left you here."

Never had he seen a head nod so fast. Nor so much. He wouldn't be surprised if the girl's neck snapped as she answered him in her silent way.

Rin motioned to the piano again.

"Why are you playing that?"

For the first time that morning, the child actually looked somewhat ashamed. Pulling her arm back in, she blushed slightly and lowered her head. But that only lasted a moment and soon she was giving him an all-too innocent grin. She indicated the keys again, jabbing her finger in the air repeatedly.

She wasn't going to give in.

Sesshoumaru entered the room then, sauntering over to the instrument. He leaned against the side and glared down at the little girl. "And why do you think that I'll play for you?"

Rin simply beamed up at him in reply.

This was ridiculous. This girl nearly demanding that he do this for her. As if she had the right to ask such a thing of him. He should just ignore her.

But his body didn't listen to his inner arguments. He'd moved the girl over and sat down just as that last thought occurred to him.

He sighed, internally, cursing that little shred of a sympathetic feeling that floated in him somewhere.

Humoring her once wouldn't hurt anything.

"So, what do you want to hear?" He realized how stupid that question really was a second too late. Then he immediately defended himself--it wasn't as if he was an expert on mute children. Especially mute children who were glued to his hip.

Rin didn't seem to notice his oversight. She simply touched the one key--which happened to be a C--and shrugged.

Sesshoumaru sat quiet for a long moment, watching her run her fingertips over the ivory keys as he tried to think of something. She'd probably be thrilled with just a scale, but if he was going to waste his time it might as well be worth it.

It was the title that made him decide on it. Beethoven's Piano Sonata, Pathétique. Because this whole situation truly was pathetic. The tune was mellow enough--perhaps it would bore her and she'd lose interest.

Now he only had to remember how it went.

Thinking on it, he moved over mechanically to the center of the bench. Rin slid over even farther until she was on the edge, yet she still managed to lean her upper body as close to him as she dared. She was nearly overflowing with excitement, her eyes wide with curiosity.

Sesshoumaru glanced over at her as his fingers automatically found their starting positions. "You would think you've never seen music performed before."

Rin drew back an inch and lowered her eyes. She shrugged slightly, almost sheepishly.

He regarded the child for a long moment in silence, before turning back to the keys. "First time for everything, I suppose."

Trying to ignore the eager eyes that stared up at him, he focussed on trying to remember how the song went. It didn't take very long, and soon the quiet, deliberate melody was the only noise in the house.

Partway through the piece, the melody began to pick up slightly in areas. By then he'd forgotten that the girl was even there. He simply played, fingers trailing across the keys. And he realized that he hadn't done this in a very long time. It was quite nice to just let himself go and not have to be on show for once. He found himself relaxing considerably.

When the last note faded off into silence, Sesshoumaru was startled to hear applause. Rin was standing on the bench next to him, possibly so that she could see the keys. Now she was beaming from ear to ear and clapping, her eyes huge with excitement.

Sesshoumaru just stared at her blankly, having clearly forgotten her existence. That in itself was shocking--he'd never done that before. When he had such a small, captive--not to mention one so very close in proximity--audience, he always knew they were there. But…he'd forgotten her.

He didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

Rin leaned closer to peer over his shoulder and she unbalanced for a moment. Thinking of the painful hours he would spend with Kagome's torturous screaming if he let her fall, Sesshoumaru reached up and put his hand on the small of her back. "Sit down."

Rin stood still then, twisting around to look at his arm behind her with a much more subdued expression than before. Catching the look, he withdrew his hand and was surprised when Rin turned back around and gave him an openly questioning look.

"Just sit down," he grumbled, running one finger along a white key. He pressed it down at the last instant, and hearing it reminded him of another song he could play.

It wasn't long after that the girl plopped back down on the bench. Sesshoumaru noticed that she had moved closer than before, but he didn't comment. Instead he fell into the music and stayed there.

If she wanted to watch, that was fine with him. He just didn't care anymore.

---

He didn't know what time it was when they arrived. All he knew was that he'd been at it for a few hours and was just finishing a rather somber Rachmaninov piece when he suddenly heard voices out the window.

"I can't believe no one met us at the door--do you think anyone's home, Mom?"

"I don't know why you're looking in the window if we could just ring the bell."

"But I thought I heard music, Mom, and--oh!"

Lifting his fingers off the keys abruptly, Sesshoumaru turned towards the window. Rin jumped in surprise, making a small sound as her head whipped around as well.

"Mom, someone's at the piano."

He saw it right away. Someone was standing outside the window, but he couldn't tell who it was through the curtains. But he thought he recognized the voice.

What is it with this family spying on me? Through the front windows no less, Sesshoumaru wondered, irritably as he flipped down the lid. He went to go push the bench back, but it wouldn't budge with Rin's weight on it still. The little girl was still staring at the window with wide eyes.

"Get down," he demanded impatiently. Rin turned those huge eyes on him. "It's just more family. Get down."

The little girl didn't move and Sesshoumaru sighed. Twisting around he squeezed himself out from under the piano and climbed over the bench.

"Mom! You don't have to ring the doorbe--"

Sesshoumaru never realized how loud the bell was until it echoed through the silence then. Clenching his teeth in irritation, he started for the door. He stopped half way, remembered the wayward child he had unwittingly becoming in care of, and turned back. Rin stared at him.

"Either you come with me or stay here."

When he didn't get a reply, Sesshoumaru left. He didn't have the time to cater to her paranoid whims.

But when he heard her come after him, he stopped so that she could catch up.

"What's taking so long?"

"Mom! It's cold out here!"

"Should we ring it again?"

"Mom! I want to go in!"

His slightly improved mood was now steadily decreasing. Striding out into the foyer, he nudged the little girl over to the relative safety of the stairs. He pointed at her directly. "Stay there. Don't move."

That taken care of, Sesshoumaru spun on his heel and stalked over to the door. He undid the latches and threw back the bolt before tossing it open and allowing a frigid gust of wind to pour in. That soured his mood even more.

"Maybe one last time won't hur--" the woman in front of him trailed off immediately, her mouth opening in a slight "o". A small crowd of winter-wrapped bodies mingled behind her, all staring at the door with mixtures of annoyance and surprise.

Sesshoumaru gazed down at the small woman blandly. "Hello, Izayoi."

Izayoi blinked a few times in surprise, before giving him her signature grin. "Ah! So, you're the host today, hmm?"

Although she sported the customary rosy cheeks and red ears, Izayoi did not look as if she belonged in the snow, what with her carefully styled hair, designer coat, and her new boots with the faux fur tops. She was absolutely nothing like her sister.

"It seems so." Stepping back, he motioned them into the house. "Although I'd appreciate it if you taught your children not to spy through windows."

Izayoi didn't reply at first. Instead, she glanced back at her pack and the shortest broke away and raced back to the car. Sesshoumaru watched him suspiciously -- he recognized the only male, Kohaku, easily-- before giving his aunt an opaque look. "Are you going to come in or can I shut the door now?"

Izayoi laughed her bubbly city-laugh. "Ah, I forgot your sense of humor! Come on, come on, girls, let's not run up your Uncle's bill too high!"

Sesshoumaru stepped back as the line of teenage girls filed past their mother, stomping their feet as the came in. The first two to come in were the eldest, and although they looked nothing alike, they were twins. Kikyou and Tsubaki. Of course Kikyou managed to squeeze her way in first, which made Tsubaki scowl unattractively. Not even sparing him a second glance, both of them pounded their way into the center of the room, tracking water over the tile floor. They separated almost immediately, and yet, that didn't stop them from acting the same. Tsubaki grumbled about the wait while Kikyou complained about the cold. And both wore sulky expressions that fit a two-year old.

The third girl to come in was Sango. She wiped her feet on the mat then glanced up at him. Her smile was a bit uncertain, but she made the most of it. "Sorry about the whole window-thing."

Sesshoumaru didn't respond. He simply gazed out the door behind her. Right before she walked past, however, he warned her. "Your admirer is here this year, again."

Sango's already pink cheeks flushed even darker. He didn't know if it was anger or something else. Her dark eyes darted over to him. "Thanks…I think."

He only nodded absently. His attention was more on what Kohaku was doing by the car. He'd opened the door on the front passenger side and seemed to be getting something out. Whatever it was, it was giving him a hassle.

Izayoi glanced over at him from where she still stood in the doorway. She looked almost nervous. "As you can see, we brought a little gift…"

"I don't think 'little' is the word," he replied, dryly. Whatever it was, the boy had better hurry up. He wasn't going to stand with the damn door open all afternoon.

It didn't take too long. The boy was backing up, hands wrapped around two feeble arms as he aided a graying, stooped figure out of the car and onto the snowy driveway. He then reached back inside withdrawing a cane. The two had a brief discussion, in which the old man's free hand flailed in the air, before a long-suffering Kohaku took his arm and started the long walk up to the house.

"Sooo…" Izayoi began, slyly. Sesshoumaru ignored her completely, too busy staring at the old man in something very close to shock. His hand tightened on the doorknob until his knuckles went white.

"What is he doing here?"

"I thought you'd be happy to see your Great Uncle, Sesshoumaru," Izayoi remarked, lightly, the smile evident in her tone. "Ever since he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's, he's been in that nursing home, you know. And it was on our way here, so I decided to stop and get him. Your mother said it was fine."

He was too surprised to correct her on the mother slip. He could only stare at the very familiar old man and try to ignore the constricting feeling in his chest. That old man reminded him so much of his mother…

One thought, however, managed to get through his fog of memories and he had to swallow once before he could ask it, his voice oddly rough. "Did my…father know of this?"

Izayoi waved a thoughtless hand, oblivious to the man slowly going insane beside her. "Oh no, no. I wanted it to be a surprise for him as well!"

"How…thoughtful…" Sesshoumaru ground out between his teeth, just on the edge of being annoyed beyond all reason. The wind whipped around them in a fierce, frigid gust, and he belatedly thought that he should have closed the door hours ago. Just shut it, locked it, and go into hibernation for a week. He really did not want to deal with this.

The duo was just beginning up the front steps, and Izayoi hurried to help them. "Here, let me help you," she insisted, reaching out and attempting to haul the old man up the stairs.

"I can do it myself!" he grumbled, cantankerously, swinging an arm in her direction. His eyes were narrowed into annoyed slits. "Taking an old man out into the cold and making him walk for miles. You young people these days!"

Izayoi was not one easily deterred. "Oh, come now Uncle Toutousai," she insisted with that annoying sunny smile. "Don't you want to see your family?"

The old man simply snorted, using his cane to wobble up the last of the stairs.

Sesshoumaru hadn't moved from the doorframe, his fingers unconsciously curling into the painted wood. He remembered the old man from long ago and how his mother would never be happy until her dear uncle showed up for Christmas. He would always dote on her so, carrying on about his "favorite niece". And, by extension, his favorite "little nephew", her only son.

He really didn't want to remember that.

The old man came to a bumbling stop right in front of him and craned his neck back with a creak to peer up at him. He studied him for a long while, eyes narrowed in concentration, until:

"Who are you?"

There was a moment of chilly silence, in which no one breathed, let alone moved. Then Izayoi cleared her throat delicately.

"That's Sesshoumaru, your nephew. Your niece Mai's, son. Don't you remember?"

Toutousai blinked a few times as if the motion helped to push the thoughts through his mind. His eyebrows wriggled for a few more seconds, the closet he got to wrinkling his already heavily creased forehead. His face brightened a moment later and he turned back to look at Izayoi.

"Nope."

Izayoi visibly deflated. "Well, uh…are you sure?" She was sending long, almost frantic, glances of apology his way, but Sesshoumaru ignored her. He'd had enough. Turning on his heel swiftly, he finally left the doorway.

"Make sure to lock it when you finally get in here."

"Sesshoumaru, I--"

He didn't even glance back. Making his way across the now frigid entryway, he paused long enough to see that Rin was still seated on the stairs where he'd put her. She had wrapped her arms around her, rubbing her palms against the sleeves of her bright green sweater.

She looked up at him, a question in her eyes.

"Yes, you can get up now."

The little girl lit up with a smile instantly. Leaping to her feet, she followed him into the next room.

Sesshoumaru heard her, but didn't say anything. He was too busy not caring about the past everyone seemed fit to forget.

It was a hopeless cause.

---

A/N:

Yep. Had to do it. More serious stuff. This setting is just so well done (ego is terrible), I have to have a deeper plot. Or…er…a kinda-deeper plot.

But I also got some cuteness in, so don't hurt me!

And, yes, Rin hasn't had the best life. Sess thought his was bad. --evil laugh-- (Okay, maybe that's overreacting…but I'm not really going to say…)

In other news, as I said above, I'm sorry this is out so late… I've been busy with schoolwork, and when I'm not doing that, I'm either not in the mood to write, or something else gets thrown in to take up my time… I was hoping to get this all done by Christmas, --snorts a laugh-- yeah right. I already have an English paper due next week… and two Econ projects.

But I will try to get another chapter at least out before Christmas. And the next one will hopefully be easier, since it isn't as depressing or dragging as this one….

Aaaaand!

THE List of Relatives and how they're related, for those who asked:

It can be found here: http: www. livejournal. com/ users/airianreesu/ 8799. Html

Please remove spaces…

There are also floor plans, so go enjoy…

Next time:

Another day, more trouble. Waking up isn't fun when there are others there, and who said only children played in the snow? Or, in this case, made war.