#first note

Smile... Look calm, catch their attention, and smile. Look perfect.

Watch them when they’re not looking at you... Attract them... and avoid those who seem “perfect.”

A smile can define people. The one that doesn’t reach their eyes... is best avoided... Smiles with a hint of sadness... those are the ideal ones... they truly seek a child... Dazzling smiles... there’s a 50 percent chance they’re a lie... a façade... and another 50 that there’s truly a great reward behind them...

Trust... Be patient... Observe carefully... Kind voices lie...

—Is that a field of flowers over there?

The reddish crayon stops the moment those words break through his thoughts. His large eyes slowly leave the page to look at the owner of that soft voice.

A warm smile, bright eyes, a genuinely interested expression...

This could be good.

—It is —his eyes return to the page and his hand continues drawing—. It’s how I wish this place looked. It would cheer up all my friends... it would make everything brighter.

His eyes glance at the man. He seems pleased: a child who cares about others, no tantrums, not thinking only about himself.

—Oh —a tone of surprise from the older man—. That’s wonderful and a great idea, little one. Do you have more thoughts on how to improve this place?

The boy sets the crayon aside. A wide smile forms on his face before he turns to look at him.

—Of course —he says eagerly—. This place is everyone’s home, so I could make it friendlier for everyone.

The man and the child continue chatting pleasantly. The boy shares his ideas, looks for his drawings, hides his wounds. He is intelligent, observant. The adult listens and watches. The boy is perfect.

They are both perfect.

But visiting time comes to an end...

—Little one, it’s been a pleasure listening to you, but I still don’t know your name.

—§}×|, sir.

A gentle pat is placed on his head.

—Nice to meet you, §}×|. We’ll see each other... soon.

The adult stood up and left that afternoon. The boy remained uneasy; perhaps he hadn’t said the right things, perhaps he shouldn’t have talked so much... he should be more childish... or maybe more imaginative.

He wasn’t perfect.

He still had to keep observing.

He had to find a better home...

—§}×|, we’re going somewhere better.

The man returned. His eyes lit up with hope. That adult was kind, with a sweet smile, a hand extended toward him. His mind could rest for a moment, his guard could drop. He hadn’t seen any warning signs. He was a perfect adult.

But there is no such thing in this life.

His hand was taken gently. He was led to a large house and then taken with him to a castle of joy.

—Your words inspired me, §}×|, and I wanted to provide a better place for children in your situation.

We will create a place. A sweet home to guide, to uplift. Your ideas will be a canvas. You will help me create the place you wished you had while you waited for a better place.

The boy felt amazed. That man was an angel. His barriers fell apart, his ideas flowed, his ideas were heard, his drawings had a purpose. His ideas could build a better future for children like him.

Eliot was a genius... Eliot was what heroes should be...

A sweet home would be created, with rooms full of light, bunk beds for companionship, colors that would shine. There must be no fear, only peace. Perhaps a school should be added. That way everyone would learn, play, and wait... to have a home of their own.

Oliver was the happiest, unaware of the smiles that never reached the eyes. Dazzled by the place, there was no reason to doubt, no apparent danger. Ignorance is sweet, but dangerous...

Hidden offices, papers that pointed to an investigation, failed experiments, rushed conclusions... The loss and stubborn desire of a father...

Oliver remembers falling asleep with his father beside him, that soft hand on his head comforting him...

Until the electricity running through his body woke him. But the sensation was strange: he felt cold, a metallic smell, pain, so much pain. He wanted to scream, but he felt drowned in an unknown sea. Everything was black...

This had to be a nightmare...

It was a nightmare.

Darkness flooded his beautiful future, his sweet home...

Had someone kidnapped him? Would his father be worried? Who could be responsible for so much pain?

The sounds of bones breaking, the smell of metal around him, burned hair, torn skin. His voice tries to come out, but it cannot; it’s as if his voice had been stolen.

He doesn’t know how much time passed. Pain flooded every part of his body. He couldn’t think of escaping; he had never been given the chance. He could only pray for death, for mercy, for his soul to rest in peace, so his worried father could have him back... even if it hurt to cause him that pain, that loss... he wanted to stay by his side longer.

But his pleas were not heard. A white light blinded him at some point. He tried to blink, but something was wrong: actions that are normally unconscious were missing. Many things felt different. The cold still ran through his body. There was a strange smell, but his vision struggled to focus, to process everything happening around him.

The metallic sound of something falling startled him. He tried to twist his small body. His chest rose and fell rapidly. His vision began to adjust. The pain of not blinking stopped mattering. The sounds were sharp. His mind worked hard to recover, to focus, to think of a solution.

The noise around him began forming an image. It stopped looking like static. He began to feel the straps around him. He could see the lamp above his body. He could smell the blood and a peculiar scent filling the room, but he couldn’t recognize it. He knew he had smelled it before... but couldn’t remember.

—sh de fjsifbd

He hears someone speaking... but he can’t make out the words. The image is blurry.

—shsjgjgjd

There it is again...

—§}×™|r —§}×™er

Oliver?

Is it calling his name?

Could it be his father?

His eyes fill with hope and fear.

Maybe his father found him... maybe he was captured too and both are in this situation.

He doesn’t want him to suffer... not a man so good... Not after losing her... he can’t lose him too...

– Day 6

Test subject: Experiment 1006, Oliver Status: Partial reanimation

The subject shows response to light and auditory stimuli. No complex cognitive activity detected.

Brain activity persists.

The experiment continues.

Note:

The subject’s neural plasticity exceeds initial estimates.

If results hold… the experiment with Poppy may be viable.

His breathing remained uneven. He couldn’t tell how much time had passed. Sometimes he heard noises, sometimes he swore he heard his name. A cold began to spread through his body. Exhaustion invited him to sleep.

Oliver began to lose sight of the light that kept him alert. That beacon started to feel distant.

Hands gently held his face. Hair falling over his vision and a maternal voice, filled with sorrow, reached his ears.

—I’m sorry... I’m sorry, Olie... but this way you’ll have a better place.

The machines connected to the boy began to beep rapidly. His vital signs dropped, his body shaking violently, the straps loosening with the movement. Metallic screeches and impacts against the table, followed by the heavy sound of his body hitting the floor.

The machines went silent. The cables had fallen. There was nothing left to measure. Silence ruled the room. Eliot wasn’t there; he had gone out for other matters.

Olie’s body stopped moving for several minutes before light returned to his eyes.

The boy felt exhausted, terrified. A sense of freedom washed over him, and a bit of hope gave him the strength to try to stand, but it was useless.

A metallic, screeching sound called to his ears. He chose to ignore it and began to crawl slowly across the floor, leaving a red trail behind him.

—Oliver? —a voice filled the room, followed by hurried footsteps.

Warm hands took his body again and placed him back on the table.

—Oliver? Can you hear me?

The boy’s eyes filled with tears, and an attempt to respond got stuck in his throat.

Eliot, seeing the silent answer in his eyes, smiled before pulling him against his chest.

—Oh, Olie... we’re going to do wonderful things...

The boy didn’t know what to say. His head rested on Eliot’s shoulder, the feeling of safety returned, his body relaxed, completely leaning onto his “father,” as his shirt slowly soaked with the scent and color of the most vital liquid any living being possesses.

– Day 12

Test subject: Experiment 1006, Oliver Status: Reanimation complete

Good cognitive response. Senses at peak levels.

Process requires improvement. Phase 2 begins: Body design and remodeling.

Note:

I’m getting closer every day to seeing you again, my daughter.

The eyes are the window to the soul... And smiles, the gentle curtain that dazzles you and hides what the soul does not seek to hide

The days were a slow film, the sound of the tape starting to record was the sound of his current world. Delicate and fragile The smell of plastic, metal, and blood slowly blending together A perfect process Areas for improvement Preparation for the next experiment The smell of paint and new fabric Conversations stopped being mutual They became monologues

Perfection and sweetness Affection Love Dedication Time...

And he forgot

Oliver was able to see himself in a mirror many weeks later; the first glance felt like a mountain collapsing. His legs were gone—now there was only a box. His torso was a kind of bright reddish accordion. Tears began to fall over that white plastic surface, and although he maintained an immaculate smile, his eyes still reflected the sorrow swirling inside him.

A blue coat with a raised collar, conical sleeves of different colors, a reddish bow, a tricorn hat, and lovely white gloves.

His father held him by the shoulders, hands gripping tightly.

—It’s ready, it’s... perfect... We’re ready to move on to the next phase...

Eliot brought designs and photographs; his monologues were small stories about his daughter, her tastes, her desires... the inspiration she was for his plans in the factory.

Every word broke his heart.

Oliver was intelligent He wanted to be seen He was clever He wanted a better place For himself... And for others...

But that man didn’t see him as he saw himself.

He was only a reflection of what he had lost.

But it wasn’t enough. Not to fill the role of a son. But enough for a sacrifice.

Tears flowed again. Eliot asked what was wrong, without trying to misinterpret his pain; after all, he would be Poppy’s support, he couldn’t lose him now.

Oliver couldn’t bear his existence like this. His ghost embraced him softly, but in that plastic body, warmth never reached him.

—It was never about me, everything is for her... and when I’m no longer useful... when I stop being useful, you’ll abandon me in this room.

Oliver’s voice began to glitch; a metallic tone mixed into it, echoing through his cries and sobs.

Eliot only reached to touch his shoulder, but he pulled away, signaling him to stop.

—I’m just a test product before the grand finale...

—Olie... that’s not true, I...

—You have no right to call me that!

His glitched voice continued. His eyes shone with tears cascading down, accompanied by that forced smile of his mask.

—Olie doesn’t exist anymore. You turned me into this... I’m your prototype.

Eliot fell silent before standing, then kneeling in front of him. He carefully took his hands and looked at his face, sincere eyes filled with exhaustion and pain.

But to him, everything was already a lie.

—I will never abandon you... and when she comes back, I’m sure you’ll get along... be patient... just a little longer... Oliver... soon you’ll meet her... soon...

Everything will have been worth it.

Tōwa

I shalln't spill the beans on everything I have in mind with regards to this topic, such as headcanon, theories, or my fanfic outline. However I wanted to try and being among, if not the very first, to throw this discussion topic out there and go through it.  Just as InuYasha’s animation company Borrowed the Name of Ayame from another of Rumiko Takahashi’s Work Kyōkai-no-Rinne, “Ayame Sakaki,” too is Sunrise utilizing another name-sake here “Tōwa Kannagi,” from the Mermaid Saga’s Mermaid Forest for their ‘YashaHime Tōwa’/‘Tōwa Higurashi,’ in the fan-titled/fan-renamed/fan-dubbed ‘YashaHime FanFic.’ [[ Skipping of the Kanna rōmaji and humanoid likenesses between Kannagi and InuYasha’s Kanna, which I will not deny and fully point to this in a whole other matter for which I can placate on.]] [[ And Yes, I am quite openly acknowledging that there is a very commonly distinguished ‘character mold' problem particularly common in most long-term companies, corporations, and franchises, which produce a high number of animations or characters. Both Rumiko Takahashi’s character designs and many mainstream works out there have their similarities and differences. Such a Mermaid Saga’s universal likeness between Mana of both anime and manga toward manga Kagome Higurashi, anime and manga Kikyō, and the fourth movie’s character ‘exclusive,’ Kikyō Clone of HōraiJima. This can easily be compared to the concept of the long term Barbie Mold, or Disney Princesses (especially pre-3D, [however, in some instances this also applies far more to the 3D Princesses than to some openly out-going character designs that aim for unique looks of individuals such as Pixar]).  I also have my own plots regarding this type of thing with a similar line of connections to the Series of Rumiko and the Feudal Era in the openly approved “Disney [Princess(es(’))] Connection Theory.”]] Kannagi already had some slight likenesses to the Inu in the original stories. They both start out as a white haired individuals, of which we also see YashaHime’s Tōwa predominantly Shares the majority of the time whence in her HanYōkai form.  However, Tōwa Kannagi’s character development also includes her becoming a supernatural being referred to as a ‘Deformed One,’/‘Lost Soul,’ which including immortality to compare to Sesshōmaru’s longevity. This is also followed by the mutation of an abominable right arm as the highlighted parallel between these too, as Sesshōmaru lost his left arm and has on at least one location had a green arm with talons used for a duration ahead of ‘succumbing,’ to a mortal arm in order to wield a certain anti-full-breed/anti-full-fledged Yōkai sword intended to protect humans/mortals.  IF memories serve, just a Kannagi’s finger count varies depending upon the iteration- Manga being three fingered, animations with five; so too, I believe, was Sesshōmaru’s finger count for that particular arm he temporarily acquired from another, Being 3 fingers in the manga and having actually remained consistent to this in animation more so than Mermaid Saga’s. Carry the lot of this on over to the small collection of likenesses when comparing Tōwa Kannagi to YashaHime’s Tōwa, and we will see that they both have a primarily human/mortal character mold, and both are twins to an “S,” begining and “a,” ending. Tōwa Kannagi twin to Sawa and YashaHime’s Tōwa twin to Setsuna. In Mermaid Forest, Tōwa is seen originally with dark hair in her ‘human,’ state-- relating that her change to the supernatural, like YashaHime’s also is the cause of whiter hair.  [[Perhaps there is a good reason to begin mentioning how things could have influenced eachother. Such as the Tokyo Ghoul Twins Kurona and Nashiro, where the latter also turned into a white hair twin in the change, while the former remains dark haired. Or Haji of Blood+, who upon having the Chiropteran Queen Blood of Saya becomes a Chevalier with his right hand also transformed like Mermaid Forest’s Tōwa? How Mermaid Forest’s Tōwa has her path chosen for her by her sister, just as Shizuka Hiō has her future determined in a betrothal to Rido Kuran, and they share “Hime,” hair-cut style and traditional simplistic Kisode / Kimono attire. ]]

[Update: I also just realized Akari Unryū has the hair stripes in the likeness to these Inu Twins, especially Setsuna’s! ]