An image in time, burned in the theatre of the mind for endless nights and waking days. Neither lost to the sanctity of peace nor the vengeful lusts of war, life carried on its eternal flame. The passionate color and stunning echo alive and breathing, one single second, one moment, one look. As the sun continued its linear path so does the wind shift and bring news of the time when am image will again appear, no less haunting, and no less beautiful.

Obsession was unlike any dominant characteristic yet displayed in the dynasties of youkai masters to pass through the ages. Believed to be constant among all humanoids alike, it was always considered more human than demon in origins. When properly matured, such focus was materialistic and draining. Youkai lords and underlings could only be accused of obsession when applied to warfare directed at a cause with an attainable, usually intangible, goal in mind. It was unique in humans when turned towards possession, be it of an item, person, or place.

Yet no other explanation was presented to SesshouMaru, Youkai Lord of the West. His extensive resources could not give reason to the dream images that were with him, not only at night but now also into the daylight hours. Those closest, those oldest, were beginning to remember a time when another ruler of the west encountered similar difficulties with the presence of a young, human consort. None dared voice such memories though, especially not to the tone that the current situation, as it was swiftly becoming, involved not only a human but also a miko. The very demise of their race.

It was inconceivable and still, SesshouMaru felt it in his cold heart. Obsession consisting of jealousy, spite, and revenge, all emotions useful and familiar to a well-trained youkai master, was now turning deadly, becoming all-consuming. They were only one side of the double-edged sword, however.

Also he knew lust, desire, and need. Need like nothing he'd ever experienced in his long, exalted past, clawed and ate at him constantly, never lessening and only intensifying with the reoccurring images of the miko. Just the memories he had of her were destroying him from the inside out, and soon SesshouMaru knew it would drive him into insanity for his pride would never break. He would never go to her and yet, as with all things seeming to involve fate, there was an option. She would come to him.

The wind turned, east to west. They were on it, approaching to search for the shards that he held, the bait he waived. The glittering fragments called to her as she called to him. She needed to find them and he would be waiting. One thing for certain a youkai could never be falsely accused of was vanity. Indeed, the great SesshouMaru answered to no one, apparent obsessions be damned.