Taste

By : The Hatter Theory

Chapter 1 : Sour

Disclaimer: I don't own Inu Yasha, and I'm not making any money off of this.

Excitement sent him flying out of bed. Sleep had not come easily, but it had come. However, the minute night began to shift into day, a mental alarm had gone off, waking him and urging him to be ready. The servant hadn't even arrive and he was washing at the basin, banishing any lingering traces of sleep that his own elation had missed.

By the time the servants had arrive with the new armor and a the elegant bow and quiver of arrows, he was clean and his hair, still damp, had been pulled into a high tail to match his father's, the tips of the leather thing swaying as he tried to stay perfectly still, his trembling betraying his inner frenzy to be ready.

The door opened, and the daiyoukai stepped in, his eyes flashing over the boy, smiling that wide, toothy smile that only he seemed able to muster.

"Leave us, I will see to the rest," The deep voice commanded. The servants, silent as ever, obeyed. Only their eyes betrayed their own curiosity, though even those questions were focused on the floor as they bowed themselves out. Only when they had gained some distance from the room did their questions start.

"Thank you father," The boy said, his eyes still on the ground respectfully. He heard a chuckle and looked up at the man he adored, a sudden smile blossoming in answer. Armor was pulled on, tied, tightened to his form.

"Do they suit?" The man asked, looking down at his son. The boy didn't even look at the armor, an almost exact copy of what the older inu wore in miniature, as he nodded happily.

"And your bow?"

"It's perfect!"

"Then gather them and be ready, your mother awaits. Then we will be off." With that, the older inu moved away, out of the room. The second he was gone, Sesshoumaru let his excitement take control, if just for a few minutes, and gave himself a silent cheer, the new armor shifting almost noiselessly with him.

Once he had released enough energy to act calm once more, he slung the quiver over his shoulder and grabbed the boy. Truly it was a beautiful thing, perhaps made even more so because it had been commissioned for this exact day. Everything had a special glow, and nothing could be bad in his eyes. Even the ringing silence in the corridors of the shiro as he raced to the entrance, silence that was unusual in their home, couldn't penetrate and dim his excitement.

It wasn't until he was close to the front hall that he slowed, the voices, though quiet, enough to make him stop. They were angry! And they belonged to his parents! As an inuyoukai, he could hear everything, but the tone more than anything bothered him.

"He is still too young," His mother's voice insisted.

"He will have to leave your side sooner or later. Accept this, it will make it easier."

"He's too young-"

"He is my heir. As such, he must learn now."

The tone brooked no argument, and was said just as he was coming into their sight. His mother turned to him, her eyes full of resignation. When he stood before her, suddenly uneasy, she bent down and hugged him, earning a startled gasp from him. The Lady was not a demonstrative woman, and such a move served to further his apprehension.

"Obey your father," Was all she said, her tone as disconnected as it had been insistent moments ago.

"Yes, mother," He told her. She stepped away and bowed her head slightly. "My Lord, bring my son back to me safely." It was not her customary farewell, which Sesshoumaru had seen in the past. Normally, she wished her mate a safe journey and a swift return. Sesshoumaru was too busy staring at his father to see the narrowing of her eyes, or the warning they held.

"It is as you say," The daiyoukai rumbled. He walked away, not acknowledging his son's presence until they reached the two dragons waiting for them.

"Hayai is yours from now on."

"It's a girl," Sesshoumaru retorted snidely, staring at the green beast before him.

"She is faster than most, a gift from Ryukotsusei in honor of the occasion. She will serve you well."

"But it's a girl dragon," The boy whined. He was silenced with a look from the older man, and put his foot in the saddle, refusing to pout. It didn't work and it might make his father change his mind about allowing him to accompany him.

"Father, why are we riding there when we'd be faster in our own forms?" Sesshoumaru asked.

"It is wise to save energy, we will need all of it we can get," The daiyoukai replied blandly. "When we arrive, you will stay on Hayai, she will keep you above the field. You may use your weapons from there."

"Yes, father."

He wanted to be on the field, fighting with his father. Being relegated to a position where there was no danger seemed cowardly to the small inu, who had been taught that courage and honor was everything. What honor was there in taking a position where defense was as assured as his own attacks would be?

"I will not have time to worry about you. You will do as I say," He heard as the wind rushed by them, buffeting their hair. It was as if the old man had known what he was thinking.

"Yes, father."

They did not speak, not even when the sounds of the battle reached them, a cacophony of noises that threatened to deafen the boy even from a distance. His father only gave him another look, a wordless command to obey him, and was off. Hayai, seeming to understand only the older inu's orders, flew further up in the sky.

"My arrows won't reach anything here," Sesshoumaru told her, trying to force command into his tone. His father made it seem so easy. The dragon however, didn't listen.

"Just a little further down," He tried again. The dragon paced in the sky, finding a seeming grip on air. He tail twitched in agitation. Taking aim, he searched for something to shoot at. He could see his father on the field, the eye of the storm as his attacks flew through the field. The ground tore beneath the bursts of energy, and the child wondered why his father hadn't yet pulled Sou'unga from it's sheath. Surely the famous hell sword would end the battle quickly.

The wind changed, shifted, and Sesshoumaru felt something at his back. Turning in the saddle, his eyes widened at the sight of the youkai grinning at him. He had seen the demon before, and he almost gave thanks for his new dragon when he noticed the red eyes narrowed, the grin showing

"I told your father it wasss too sssoon," The dragon hissed. Sesshoumaru felt his stomach bottom out. Ryukotsusei leered at him, his eyes flashing victoriously.

"My father will defeat you!" Sesshoumaru challenged, refusing to let his fear enter his tone. Surely his father would see, would notice the youkai up in the sky, threatening his son?

Energy shot out, breaking the chest plate of his armor, cracking it in half. The force knocked him clear of the saddle, and even though he knew he could fly, knew he could transform, all he could do was stare at the mass of bodies he was hurtling towards in horror. Paralyzed by his terror, the battle seemed to rush up to meet him, a tangle of bodies and snarls and weapons clashing, the vivid, sharp lines of the crowd looking as if they would swallow him whole.

His landing was broken by another youkai, and the snarls that erupted were dimmed when it's eyes lit on him.

"What are doing here?" It shouted over the din, pulling the small body to him.

"Ryukotsusei threw me down here, I think he was trying to kill me!" Sesshoumaru cried out, eyes wide as he took in the sights of the battle. The youkai, obviously loyal to his father, was cutting down any that came at them, holding his sword one handed as the other kept the child pressed to his side.

"Inu no Taisho!" He called, trying to throw his voice over the noise of battle. But it was useless, even with the inu's hearing, it was bedlam on the field, and any call would be swallowed in the cries of the dying and the clash of swords and claw.

"Stay close, and don't let go," The youkai commanded. Sesshoumaru nodded, fighting back tears. Blood splashed over his clothing, even splattering on his face as a youkai fell next to hem. The sword in his savior's hands seemed to sing as the boy watched, wanting to turn away but too frightened of what could happen if he did. Fear pierced through him as even his savior seemed to lose himself in the rage of battle, snarls erupting from him that only proved how close he danced to the edge of sanity.

Finally, his father's silver hair came into view, and Sesshoumaru almost called out to him in relief. Instead, the inuyoukai turned, and Sesshoumaru was taken aback at the bloodlust in the youkai's eyes. Taisho was barely recognizable in the heat of battle, the noises coming from his throat unlike anything he'd ever heard before.

"Inu no Taisho!" His savior called.

"Roiyaru?" The red of his bloodlust flickered in his eyes, crimson bleeding out into gold.

"Your son was thrown from his dragon, said it was Ryukotsusei!" Roiyaru shouted, making himself heard to the inu. For the first time since Sesshoumaru had seen him on the field, his father looked to him, surprised to even see him there, as if he hadn't noticed.

"Get him out of here, now!" He was pulling the sword from his back, and Sesshoumaru swore he could hear deep, dark laughter. "Transform if you have to, but get him away from here."

"But the rules of battle-"

"This battle is a ruse to begin with, get the child out here!" Taisho snarled.

Roiyaru moved back, and Taisho held his son's shoulder. Other youkai came at them, trying to harm his father and get at the transforming youkai. Light flashed, but none stopped. The transformed Roiyaru, a red dog, stood before them and Sesshoumaru felt himself thrown into the air. He grappled at the fur and held on, barely able to get is seat when he was in the air again.

He heard his father shout something, felt the energy cleaving the air and looked back.

It looked like a purple tornado engulfing the field, leaving nothing but broken bodies and scarred earth in it's path. The screams echoed in his ears, and the roar of wind whipped his tears from his face. Bile rose in his throat, threatening to empty his stomach and he swallowed it down, stalwartly refusing to vomit into the other inu's fur.

They kept flying, and even when they were beyond the sounds of battle, Sesshoumaru could not forget the screams of the dying. His head clamored within, replaying everything in his head again and again, each time the sights becoming darker, more detailed and more frightening. Every trace of excitement became disgust.

The sour taste in his mouth lingered even when he was finally back in his home, his mother washing the blood from his face.

A/N: Inspired by the tastes that are supposed to be present in every meal. This is Sour. Next will be Bitter. I'm still working on another story, although the end is -finally- in story is to keep my head from exploding while I work on the other one, and to help me keep my promise of posting with some regularity. Hopefully by the time this is done I'll have the first few chapters edited and ready to post. I hope. Bleh. My muses are dicks.