MistyBlues - Thanks for the review! The first review means a lot to me and I'm glad that you actually enjoyed the story! I think that I only got some hits for this story because of the lame blurb. However, now I changed it and I hope to attract more readers. Enjoy the next chapter!

The door to the home was open.

And no one was in it.

Where are you?

A running figure skitted through the dense forest, trees blocking all beams of moonlight for the figure's sight. It didn't matter, there was no point in looking for what the figure was looking for.

"Sesshoumaru! Where must you be!" the falcon-demon cried out suddenly, falling to her knees and bursting into tears, the third time in her life. Her wavy long brown and red-streaked hair fell into a circle around her. Quietly, the half-demon held up all her hair with her left-hand sword, hoping that the familiar movement would ease her and calm her pain. "I have looked and tried to find you for the past century, wandering around this damned world! Where are you? I have only failed!" Takara fell to the earthen floor on her face another time, lying there for a long while.

The clouds in the sky cried water to the earth as she did. The more violently she cried, the harder the rain. Taraka was shaking so much, she couldn't breathe. Takara was not surprised by the showeer; she as a falcon-demon, one of those creatures who ruled the sky. This rain would last, even if Takara stopped crying. The heavens felt her misery.

Takara stopped choking on tears, she stopped crying abruptly at the sound of bristling leaves.

A solid figure stood before her.

Takara whipped out the sword in her hair, her left-handed one. Only split-seconds later, she pulled out the other scabbard-free right-hand sword. Takara's hair dropped in great waves down to her feet. She tried to scent out the figure. However, falcons were not known for their scent powers; it was their vision. Her sharpest sense, however, was clouded with tears, which she tried to quickly blink away in order for quick identity.

When that didn't work, she spat bitterly, "Who are you, demon?" She felt a demon presense of aura slightly more powerful than her own. She would have to withstand this fight and emerge as winner, or die as the loser. Takara knew that she was leaning toward the second option. No point in fleeing; she had made her statement.

"The last time I saw you, you were a gentle half-demon. Has your search for me done that much?"

Takara couldn't believe her ears. In only seconds, she flipped her swords in a circle, and crisscrossed her arms, placing her swords in their correct place.

Takara crashed into the demon, embracing the demon, not caring for the cold metal spikes on his armor that pressed into her, piercing her body. She only felt the demon's warmth, although both of their clothes were fully wet.

The demon responded by returning the embrace, though only halfway, for with only one arm.

"Sesshoumaru..." Takara let the name run through her tongue.

"Takara..." Sesshoumaru said softly. "I have found a way to come back."

"Where were you? Where did they take you?"

Takara was expecting this. His eyes turned into a steel material, unable to be seen through, no emotions, no understanding...

no answer.

Takara dropped the matter and said, "More than a century is enough." She looked up at him with tear-glistened eyes, into his calm serene face.

"I know," Sesshoumaru replied quickly. "Your ambidextrous ways, and the sword in your hair..."

Takara and Sesshoumaru gazed into each other's eyes for a short while, before Takara pressed her lips against his.

The taste of the kiss was so longily missed.

The night breeze blew their white and black garmets together. White and black. The Yin and Yang. Two opposites.

Finally together fully, souly and physically.

Sesshoumaru applied more force onto Takara's lips carefully and gradually, so as not to disturb anything.

What happened around them did not matter, only themselves mattered.

The sun began to rise in the east and gave a light tint of more color.

Takara and Sesshoumaru slowly pulled away from each other, taking in deep, quiet scents of each other, enjoying the moment.

Sesshoumaru nudged Takara. "Tie your hair back."

The next second, she was still in the same position, though only one thing changed. Her hair was placed up with her sword and the sword on the right-side of her waist was missing.

Although he did not show it, Takara saw the glee in his eyes in seeing this simple an action.

Breaking the romance, Takara interrogated, "How come you never told me that you had a brother?"

"Not a brother, I do not have one."

"What about Inuyasha?"

"How do you know of him?" Sesshoumaru seemed a bit bothered.

"I, met him," Takara replied slowly, looking at the reaction that Sesshoumaru held.

"He is...a half brother."

"I left the mountain side. Because...I wanted..." Takara took a breath. "I wanted to start a new life. I thought you would be gone forever. I...I didn't know where you went, and if you were...dead or not." Takara commenced to well up tears. "I'm sorry."

Sesshoumaru only looked ahead when Takara told him this. His silky silver hair dripped rain water to the sides of her, like an umbrella, since his face was directly above hers partially.

Takara let go of him and turned, finding she had light pierces since she had been careless and pressed herself against Sesshoumaru's armor, which now had red blood on it, being washed away slowly by the decreasing rain.

The two remained deathly quiet. The patter of the rain was the only thing heard.

Until Sesshoumaru spoke, "And you met Inuyasha on the way."

"Yes," Takara closed her eyes.

She suddenly heard a sword unsheathing.

Her left hand reacted first, blocking a sword from cutting into her.

"Sesshoumaru?" Takara cried, finding that her mate's eyes had turned red, and the scarlet markings on his cheeks had disappeared. he clutched the Tokijin, using it against her. Did this have to do with Inuyasha?

No, Sesshoumaru does not betray!

Or would he?

His moves became more aggressive, and Takara also took herright sword to help out. But even if two swords were out, nothing stopped her from suddenly slipping an attack. Takara could not bring herself to attack Sesshoumaru. She never would.

Takara cried softly, "Saraba kiogokoro Sesshoumaru."

She felt his cold sword pierce right through her.

Her second option was the right one.