This fic is a disturbing bit of self-reflection, and is created for a Christmas fic exchange. I hope I meet all the creepiness requirements satisfactorily.

Warnings: allusions to molestation, rape, and death

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Drain

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I know what is thought of me.

You must also judge me, if you are here now, reading my account of these things. You judge me, and yet you think by seeing my side of it all, you will not change your views, only solidify and further justify them.

I do not care for the judgment you pass. That is a concern only to the mortals, with their deities and afterlives. You fail to see that, in truth, I am a deity. More beautiful and powerful than your kind, with life nearly endless. Is that not how you see gods?

And who are you, to judge a god?

I learned these truths as a child, from my mother, who schooled me in all things and shaped who I became in time. When I was finally taller than her, she tired of the tedium of training me, and disappeared from my life forever. I do not think she died.

Sometimes, she would tell me that death is only an opponent, to be defeated or outsmarted. I do not doubt that she accomplished both with flawless grace. Somewhere, I believe she still evades his cold grasp. That is one more proof of the lower quality inherent in humans. They die of age and wear, whether they were strong in battles or not, and their short lives show that they are feeble-minded and weak in the end.

I have repeatedly attempted to have a child of my own, to teach and show all the many wonders and lessons I had received in my youth. My first child was my brother. He was young enough, certainly, to be my own child when I took him in. And, with both of his parents dead, he clearly needed someone to care for him. For my own part, I had not yet thought to find a mate to bear my true offspring, and it seemed like a mutually agreeable arrangement.

I believe that my error, in that case, was to try and teach a boy, when I myself knew only of my mother. Certainly, battle and survival, etiquette and leadership were all lessons I could teach without regard for gender. However, it soon because clear to me that while my mother had taught me the ways of pleasure, and of which bits belonged where, as well as how to touch and move against my partner, the partner at that time was a woman, with rather different anatomy than what could be find on a young boy.

I was forced to adapt my own knowledge of such things to fit the situation, and while I remember that, in the beginning, my lessons were awkward and painful, I truly felt sorry to cause so many tears because of my own ignorance. I was young, and it was hard for me to ignore his pleas and discomfort with the situation. In the end, I decided that I had at least taught the boy to survive on his own, and so I left him to his own devices.

I wonder now if he remembers those months we spent together, as he was very young at the time. At least I taught him to fight and defend himself, but I must admit that my first attempt at parenting was a spectacular failure. It would be two hundred years before I had the urge to attempt it again.

In a moment of pride and sentimental foolishness, I adopted a young human girl. I had an idea that if I raised her, she could overcome inherent weaknesses and shed the shackles of mortality. I did not realize how I would grow to love her, not as a parent loves their child, but as a husband loves his wife. It is odd, for I had grown up, not as you might have, believing that sexuality can only be expressed between lovers or mates, but knowing that it is yet another expression of affection to be shared between a parent and their child. My mother and I. And at first, it had been that way for Rin and I. She had shown a small measure of hesitation and confusion toward the full nature of our relationship, and it was then that I learned the difference between human parenting and my own experience. However, once I learned to be gentle, she stopped fighting it, and even grew to look forward to that part of things. Her smile was ever present. Rin was a child who felt joy in the smallest of things, as though all of her misfortunes made life that much sweeter.

I knew she was a child, and that all children grow up. Human children do so with a speed that is unbelievable, and the time before Rin had gone from doting daughter to full-grown woman seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Her face grew slender as her frame, curves appeared where none had been before, her short stature gave way to the willowy height that brought her to within a hand span on my own stature. Her child's yukata was replaced with an elegant selection of fine silk kimonos, and her hair grew so long and lustrous she would spend hours each day caring for it. Still, she would pick flowers for me every day, and her smile never faltered. She did not want for any of life's comforts, as I would shower her in gifts constantly.

Somewhere along the line, my child had become my mate, and my love for her knew no bounds. Rin filled my heart with feelings I had never known before her. She had all of my attention, and I had all of hers.

Then she became pregnant.

Rin had once mentioned to me that she might be barren. I thought such an idea would injure her pride as a woman very deeply, but it seemed not to worry her at all. She told me that she had me, and that was more than enough.

When she told me that she was with child, Rin was crying. She was not crying from joy, however, but with a heart breaking despair I had never before witnessed in her. I felt the surge of happiness at her news leave me as suddenly as it came. I asked her what was wrong, and she only said four words.

I can't do this.

What did she mean?

I can't do this.

She cried herself to sleep, and I watched her sleeping by firelight. Humans have a need for shelter that I never quite understood. However, for Rin, and for our child, I revisited the great castle that my own father had lived in for some time with his second wife. As we moved into the abandoned building and I had servants clear away the dust of time that had settled over everything, letting her choose what went where, her belly grew, and her smile faded. Surely, once she had a completed home, Rin would return to the happiness she had always embodied.

Everything was finished just before the baby was born, and for a brief time, Rin seemed her old self. The child was a beautiful girl with silver hair and golden eyes. I named her Hana. Life continued, as it is apt to do. Rin took a great interest in dressing Hana, pampering her, telling her stories, reading to her, carrying her from room to room and around the grounds at all hours.

Still, she always made time for me. When Hana was napping, or asleep for the night, it was just the two of us. Every day, she picked flowers and put them in each room, though their bright colors paled beside the beauty of her smile. Soon, our daughter went from toddling behind her mother to running ahead of her, laughing and beaming boisterously as she clutched a handful of flowers that were meant for me, pressed into my possession by a tiny, pale hand.

It was not long before I felt the time for Hana's education had come. I began simply, knowing from my prior experience that children need to be handled with great care. One day, Rin found us in the middle of a lesson. The look on her face was something I will never forget. Shock. Betrayal. Anger. And yet, she turned around and left before I could say one word. I dismissed my daughter, and sank into a deep state of introspection. That night, Rin was nowhere to be found. In my search of the castle, I saw that Hana was also missing. This was beyond alarming.

I felt sure that an enemy had taken them. I knew the dangers of family and love, and it was a risk I had selfishly taken. I was searching the grounds when I found them, sprawled on the ground they seemed to be sleeping on, holding onto each other tightly.

Then I saw the blood.

They must have fallen from a high window, perhaps the very window in Hana's room. Mortality had found them both, killing the human as well as the hanyou without discrimination. I had been a fool to spend so much time and energy trying to overcome the limitations they were born with, and I had nothing but heartache to show for my efforts.

As I stood over their graves, I felt as though a hole had been bored deep within me, and that all of those feelings and memories since the first time I saw Rin, a dirty orphan child, were being drained from me, leaving me a shell of something I had once been.

Years pass quickly without the growth and change of humans to mark the time. I cannot say how much time passed before I saw her. I was traveling through my domain, as I had been since the deaths made staying inside the walls of the castle utterly unbearable.

Like a ghost of memories long since buried, Hana appeared before me, much as I remembered her. A pale child in a white yukata, silver hair with flowers just as pale tucked in each forelock. I fell before her, embracing her as though not one day had passed.

But…her eyes.

The eyes were not shimmering gold as I recalled, but black, bottomless pools. Something was not right. I took her back to the castle, I showed her every room in turn, and stopped finally at the master chambers, the last place Hana and I had been together. I waited for her to say something, but she only clutched at a mirror she was carrying, something I did not recall her owning before.

But then, time had passed. She might have picked it up anywhere. I was at a loss, was this not Hana, my precious daughter? Or was it a cruel illusion?

I began disrobing, thinking that by recreating our last meeting, her eyes would light up with the golden light they had always held. When the last of my clothing was removed, I turned to her, but it was impossible to proceed, as she clutched the mirror before her like a shield. I reached forward, intent on pulling it away from her, and she leapt away from me, twisting that mirror so that somehow, it showed not only my reflection, but also the depths of my heart, where that deep bore still drained me.

And through that chasm, my very soul began to drain.

This was not right. Shouldn't Hana's return destroy my pain and save me? Instead, I could feel my life slipping away as she drained me.

It was not Hana.

Only then did I recall the small girl, the youkai of nihility. Naraku's creation.

Kanna.

For this insult, I would not forgive her. I would take her unwillingly, I would drain her blood, and defile her corpse.

I would have.

But I was unable.

I was drained.

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The End