Standard Disclaimer applies to all chapters of this piece of fanfiction. I don't own Inuyasha, unfortunately.

sometimes rain is snow,
sometimes love is fake.

- Yuki Hotaru, by Plastic Tree

snow firefly.

It wasn't snowing. But the air was unusually freezing – the cold came in the form of torrents of cutting winds that knew how to find their way round your layers of thick clothing and penetrate the areas you'd forgotten to cover with wool and whatnot. Once you succumbed to the cold, it would attack your entire body and leave you in a mess of chattering teeth and brittle bones.

They were like a procession, filing out of cars to form a group of people huddled around each other to keep warm, hard boots making crunching noises on the frozen ice as they moved down the cemetery to find that specific grave. Faces plastered with fake smiles and make-up cracking in the low temperatures, branded black overcoats and Cashmere scarves of the best quality wrapped around their fat bodies just to keep the winds out. They had to refrain from clicking their tongues with impatience as the family of the deceased paid their respects in the winter morning.

He'd died in a car accident, merely contributing to the statistical data of the road users who'd passed away when the roads were icy and slippery and the cars' tyres just didn't have enough friction to prevent the cars from skidding and crashing into the innocent ones standing on the pavements, waiting eagerly for their bowls of ramen to arrive. His death wasn't such a sad incident – the family had bought insurance for him, and now they had enough money to pay for the other son's tuition and university fees without having to scrimp and save in every aspect of their life. Rich relatives from the mother's side never did invite them to family gatherings because she'd run off and married a normal "poor man" who couldn't provide her with the luxuries all her sisters got from their pudgy husbands that lived off embezzlements of funds from their companies.

But he'd been the pride of both sides of the family because he was a scholar and excelled in everything he did – he did well in school, was qualified to be in the national track and field team with a record time for the 100 meter sprint, and had a girlfriend who was equally talented in the artistic field. That was why the relatives were bothering to come and pay their last respects before cutting off any remaining contact with this family again, unless the next son proved to have an even more promising future than the first one.

They stood, a distance away from the grave, allowing the mother and father and brother to kneel at the grave to pay their respects to the young man. A chilling wind blew past yet again, and all of them shivered despite their high-quality winter-wear which was supposed to keep them warm even at the pinnacle of Mount Everest. All of them wanted to get home quickly, because they never did make a point to know the boy who'd died, and the warmth of the limousine was just so much more appealing than standing in the freezing cold of the outside. One by one, the well-fed aunts and uncles returned to their big cars with fanciful names and auctioned number plates, until the only ones left at his grave were his family, and the aforementioned girlfriend.

She wore a rather thin top as compared to the rich relatives, and a simple pullover with a skirt that he had given to her as a birthday gift just days ago. And yet, she was not shivering. The wind had merely kissed her on her cheeks and given her a pretty rosy glow to her usually pale face, and tousled her dark brown hair so that they lay around her shoulders in a fashionable mess, unlike the hairstyles of those who sat in the cars – the well-styled ones in expensive salons but really didn't look very good. Her tear glands had stopped producing salt water since a long time ago, and now her brown eyes just looked painfully determined as she stared at the name on the grave and forced herself to accept reality. He was dead, and there was nothing she could do about it, except to hold the memories they had created together close to her heart; and move on with life. Silently, she wished him well in Heaven (she was pretty sure he would end up there because he had been a very good son, brother and spouse-to-be), and promised to take care of his elderly parents and younger sibling.

After today, she would not forget, but she would forgive. She would stop being angry with him for leaving so early, for leaving her behind. And she would embrace the future as it came, even though he wasn't there anymore.

But they noticed another car pulling up beside the others, bigger and most definitely much more expensive than any other vehicle parked along the cemetery. The chauffeur let the engine die down, then got out of the car and opened the door for his master. She scoffed inwardly. It was probably just another relative of the deceased; possibly the richest of them all. They were all scum; human trash that didn't deserve to pay their respects to such a wonderful human being who'd done so much good when he'd been alive.

Then he stepped out, in a black suit complete with sunglasses (there wasn't even any sun shining down upon them, damn it); a mane of startling silver hair tied up into a long ponytail, with stray strands of hair hanging loosely near his fine-chiseled face but not looking out of place at all. His shoes made crisp sounds against the icy pavement as he walked (not without a bit of a saunter that was expected from an important man) towards the grave they were kneeling at, and took off his shades.

Intense golden eyes looked into her own brown orbs but she did not waver. Not once did she lower her defiant gaze, and let her jaw tense up to show her displeasure that he had come. For she had recognized this beautiful but arrogant young man from the scene of the accident – he had escaped unscathed besides a few minor injuries that wouldn't even leave scars, but the one she loved had lost his life, just because this silver-haired man had been careless in his driving.

What angered her further was that there was not a single sign of remorse in those golden eyes – those hateful golden eyes that she wished didn't make her want to cry for some reason she couldn't fathom. He did not deserve to be here.

The killer of Asakawa Rin's fiancé did not deserve to pay his respects today, tomorrow, or any other day unless he regretted his actions.

"Leave. You are not welcome," she said quietly, but in a curt tone. Their gazes remained locked, and she found herself wanting to back away from his icy gaze, sending a shiver down her spine unlike the winds had failed to do. But he was the one who blinked and looked away, with an expression so pained that it startled her quite a bit.

Silence filled the air as she shifted her weight from foot to foot uneasily.

It wasn't until much later that he spoke, as he replaced his sunglasses (branded, with no doubt) to the bridge of his nose. "Very well, I will leave." And he turned on his heel before returning to his car and driving off.

She didn't quite understand the sinking feeling she'd felt in the depths of her heart as he left her, but later on it would all become crystal clear.

to be continued.

Author's Notes: I hope it's clear that the indirect killer of Rin's fiance is everyone's favorite dog youkai. Not the show's namesake, the other one - the older brother. This will be set in the far future of the series, but it's still semi-AU because there is a chance that this might happen, therefore it won't disrupt the canon storyline; that will be explained in time to come, despite how far-fetched the prologue seems. Till then, I sincerely hope that you'll review. Thank you. :)