Contraire!
So, today I sat down with my Muse and had a nice little chat. Because this whole lack-of-inspiration thing was making anything I typed out seem kind of awful. Which this is, actually, but at least I can stomach it. I was going for the artsy, "vague" thing and only got angst. Ah, well. At least it's something. I told him flat-out that, if he absolutely refused to help me write my one-shot for Forthright's latest challenge, he could do the honorable thing and let me write a drabble. So here we have it- sorry it was a long time coming.
Title: Contraire
by That'sMyFiasco
Written For: iy_no_kakera
Set: #1
Chapter Title: Hopes Down
Theme: Inuyasha; Set #1 Theme #17- Abandonment
Genre: General
Characters: Inuyasha, implied Sesshoumaru
Word Count: 244
Rating: General/Angst
Summary: Hope is a precious thing.
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'”Never use hope to hurt someone.” “Is that some kind of rule?” “It should be.”' -Defining Dulcie, by Paul Acampora
Sometimes, when it was cold and rainy and he had no place to stay, he would let himself wait.
He never actually believed it, of course- or at least, that's what he told himself- but it was nice to think about. To pretend that there was someone that wanted him, that would look after him, even if he couldn't right now. Big brother was busy, after all- he ruled father's lands. He didn't have time to look after him right now, but he might someday. And then he could have a home. A home with a bed, and a blanket, and hot food, and all sorts of other wonderful things.
One night, he had seen his brother.
Oh, he hadn't actually approached him, of course, staying in the shadows until Sesshoumaru had passed by. Inuyasha knew better than to startle him, though of course Sesshoumaru couldn't be surprised. It was just that he thought that Big Brother might not like it very much if he showed up without any warning.
So he waited. Because one day, somebody might come to him.
Over the years, he thought about it less often. Finding food and somewhere dry to sleep was more important anyways. The hope burned quietly in the back of his mind, like a dying ember. Eventually, it was smothered for the final time- he didn't let himself think about it any more.
It would take over fifty years for the hope to burn again.