Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, or any of its characters.

Gone. For so many years I have waited, wishing, hoping for her to return. Where did she go, why, so many unanswered questions building in my mind; the incessant pain in my chest bordering upon unbearable. The promise of her arrival looking less and less plausible. Ten years, ten long, lonely years. Am I pining? Never. She has broken a vow to me, a hurt unlike any physical altercation.

"I'll be back, don't you worry," she had told me, "I love you, and please take care of yourself."

Famous last words from someone I once held dear in my heart. Ten years and no correspondence, nothing. Is she torturing me on purpose? Maybe. Perhaps she underestimated my feelings for her. Then again, I am not one to display emotions freely. However, I tried to let her know, the subtle hints slipping by unnoticed. Maybe she left because I never repeated those three little words, but she had to have known. I must have upset her.

Leaning my head back, I reflect upon the times we shared. I was the first one to ever make love to her. Did she run away from me to be with another? She is not that type of woman. Although, I could be misplacing my trust. We used to sit here, in this park on nights like this, and I would indulge her in her silly little games of "what if" questions and comfort her when she was sad.

"Someone like you should never be upset," I had once told her.

"Why's that," she inquired through sniffs and hiccups.

"Because then you're not smiling," came my weak reply.

She was hoping for me to say something else, but no, it never escaped my lips. I could clearly see the disappointed look that crossed her face, however brief, and my heart sank somewhat. She forced a smile afterwards to please me, yet her efforts were in vain. Always putting others before herself, such an unselfish creature.

It is past midnight, I should be going. I stand up, stretch, and wonder how long I had been there. Then, I see someone in my peripheral vision, possibly some heathen out looking for trouble. She never did like to stay out late, I remember, she would frighten easily. That is when I notice the figure approaching my person, only to stop a good ten feet away from me under the cover of shadows. I start to walk off, but the shadow calls out to me.

"Umm...excuse me?"

I freeze. Completely rooted to the spot, and the fine hairs covering my body stand on end.

"I don't mean you any harm, but I kinda need some help. You see, I'm looking for someone. Maybe you could point me in the right direction?"

The initial shock subsided, but I'm surprised she does not recognize me. Being shrouded in shadows could possibly hinder her identifying skills. I choose not to reply, refraining from running to her. She fidgets, I hear, adjusting what seems to be a large parcel.

"You never were one for words, were you Sesshomaru?"

She called me out, she knew it was me all along. Of course, what other person would be in our park? She always found beauty in the dilapidated playground, something about the rustic feel of this place appealed to her.

"I'm sorry. I must be imagining things. I'll leave you alone now."

Sorrow. Those words were saturated in saddness. What reason does she have to be sad? After all, it was she that left me, or does she not see it that way? She starts walking, towards me by the sounds of it. She is passing me. Without thinking, I grab her arm just above her elbow as she passes by. What am I doing? Why can't I just let her go? I have a foreboding feeling that something is not as it seems. She turns to face me, her inky hair floating in the air as she swivels.

"Ano...Sessho-" she starts, but I place one of my delicately deadly fingers vertically across her soft pink lips to effectively silence her.

I move my finger to the side and use the back of my fingers to caress her smooth cheek, which is quickly gaining a reddish hue due to her girlish blush. Every memory, good and bad, resurface as I stare once again into the eyes I swore never to forget. It is her, she came back. She even sought me out, obviously much to her surprise finding me in this place after a decade has passed. I supposed old habits die hard. She appears as though she is going to speak again. I do not wish for words right now. Too many questions at the tip of my tongue aching to be spoken, but I would not dream of ruining this moment I have waited so long for.

Suddenly, without thinking, roughly I grasp the hair at the nape of her neck and bring my lips crashing down upon hers. At first, she tries to resist, but her efforts cease as she rather quickly melts into my body while still clutching her package. All the longing and loneliness, passion and heartbreak in one soul-searing kiss. Regaining my senses, I see no logical reasons for my actions. I should be angry with her, furious even. She left me, all alone, without a trace. All I had for ten years were my memories and a broken promise.

As soon as the kiss started, it was over when I push her away, unintentionally knocking her to the ground making her lose the package in her hands, which turns out to be a simple shoebox. She looks up at me with tears brimming in her crystalline eyes, refusing to fall.

"Sesshomaru," she screams as she falls, "why? What's going on?"

I chose not to answer, instead giving her a deadpan glare that would send even the bravest packing. Taking my molten stare off her for a moment, I take stock of the now topless shoebox and its contents. Squinting my eyes fractionally, I notice that various stamped envelopes litter the ground. Before I can read the address or addressee, a sparkle of light glitters in the corner of my eye. She had raised her left hand to her lips, and in doing so, the ring on her fourth finger caught the illumination of the streetlight overhead. A ring. Not just any fashion ring, but a simple, albeit small, diamond solitaire. So apparently, she has found someone and now she has come to rub it in my face. Truly, I never thought of her to be the vindictive type. I step around her, preparing to leave, but she spoke again.

"They're letters," she voice quivers, "and every single one of them are addressed to you. One hundred and eighteen, to be exact. I don't know why, but they were all returned to me, stamped with a red 'Return To Sender.' That's one letter a month, except two when I got really despondent because all my letters were being returned. It's everything that went on while I was overseas. I tried calling you, but I received a message saying that your number was disconnected. For the longest time I thought you were purposely trying to avoid me, but I know in my heart that you'd never do that."

My eyes widen, only momentarily, when I finally come into reading distance of said letters. She had tried to contact me all along. Once a month, there was a letter that never made it to me. Some of the envelopes were thick, undoubtedly concealing pictures of some sort. I have half a mind to leave the box and her there, being stubborn and not wanting to let my anger recede. The other half wants to take them and her home with me to be regaled with stories of the past decade. I have always been partial to the silent treatment when I cannot make up my mind. I will stand here a while longer, just as she seems content with setting on the ground crying silent tears. Finally, she gets up and places the letters safely back into the shoebox.

"I wish you would take these, at least. I don't care if you read them or not, it'll make me feel better," she says forcing herself to smile, "well, I guess if you don't have anything to say, I'll be leaving."

With that, she walks off in the direction she came. She is going back to the shrine, no doubt. That run down shrine has always been her home, especially when she refused to go to the States with her family. Now she owns the place, but it receives no more visitors due to the absence of her grandfather, former proprietor of the grounds. I think I will stand here, just a few minutes more, to watch her retreating form completely disappear into darkness. Now, I contemplate whether or not to take the box with me. Sure, it is indeed a lot of reading, and I am curious about what happened overseas that kept her away from me for so long. Perhaps she even wrote me a letter explaining the mysterious ring I saw on her finger. I know human traditions dictate engagement when a ring like hers is worn on that finger. Then again, maybe holding onto the past and what was is not the best idea. Curiosity piqued, I gather the box and head home.

At first, it started out to be a trip to the US to make an appearance at her grandfather's funeral. The situation got sticky at the mention of a will, and apparently long lost relatives came flocking to pay their respects to the recently deceased hoping to win good favor of the immediate family left behind. Considering her mother, Souta, and Kagome were the only people he had constant contact with for the large majority of his life, everything of his was left to them. Moneys and land given to her mother and a hefty savings to Souta, undoubtedly for further education. The largest slice, however, went to Kagome. An estate settled on vast acreage and even more money. This man knew how to invest, despite his wayward personality.

Then, the battle ensued for what was rightfully whose. Nine and a half years worth of legal battles, and the newly discovered relatives left with only their remaining dignity intact. Ms. Higurashi ended up buying a house in rural land, yet still close enough to civilization to matter. Kagome...had a child.

Pictures and ultrasounds stuffed in these envelopes of the fetus, and later, the infant. While she was pregnant, she decided to buy a fake engagement ring to show the others that she was not going to have a bastard child. Also, she mentioned, to thwart the advances of men who had learned of her recent acquiring of a fortune. In the letters, she is completely sure it could belong to none other than me. Something twinges deep inside of me, something protective that does not deny the child as my own. She swears she never even thought of being with another man in the way that we shared. Perhaps, I can trust her. However, I do not think I can simply walk back into their lives. This is certainly too much information to take in at once.

The rest of the letters seem to create a downhill feeling. Although she still wrote, the sorrow laced within the words becomes suffocating. Then she mentions returning; her final letter. I get up from my chair and proceed to make my way to my front porch. The view in the morning is spectacular. As the door opens inward, I notice that there is a letter taped to my door, properly addressed yet missing its postage. It seems this letter had been hand delivered. I pull it off my door and turn it over, fanning the heavenly scent that is Kagome drifting into my nostrils. On the back, written in all capital letters are the words 'FINAL NOTICE.' Slightly confused, I incline one of my perfectly manicured eyebrows as I open the envelope. The letter reads:

Dearest Sesshomaru,

By the time you finish reading this, I will be out of your life forever. I came back for you, only to be rejected. I'm going to return to the States and Rin to finish some business I left behind. All the land I inherited I'm donating to a wonderful organization called Habitat for Humanity. I'm auctioning my estate through the local historical society, and Rin and I will be moving into the house I bought. I have turned over the shrine to one of the larger, more prosperous shrines as hard as it was for me to do so. I'm so sorry if you thought I didn't try to contact you, but I've already expressed that many times before. If you read any or all of the letters, it must be a lot of information to digest. I truly wished we could be a family, but it doesn't look like that's going to happen. I've got to go now, my plane leaves at 8:00. I'll never forget you, and I'll always love you.

Goodbye,

Higurashi Kagome

I let the letter fall from my hands as I turn my wrist to check my watch. 7:45. She will be gone in fifteen minutes, never to be seen or heard from again. I will not make it to the airport in time by car, and public use of demonic powers is prohibited by law. Fuck the law! I refuse to lose her again. Feeling my powers surge within my body, I leap off of my front porch landing on a roof a great distance away. There is no doubt in my mind that boarding procedures have started if the plane takes off at 8:00.

7:46. Almost there. When I finally touch down, the airport is extremely busy, bustling with businessmen, families, students going on spring break. I glance over at the departure board; lucky me, there is only one flight heading to the US today. Usually, there are multiple flights to the US, but as of late, people seem tentative to visit there with the recent wars and attacks. The economy must be getting pretty bad.

7:48. Weaving through the mass of people is proving to take longer that getting here from my residence. Dodging an errant luggage bag rolling by, I see her standing there at the gate getting her ticket checked and chatting amiably to the employee. In a move of desperation, like a shooting star in the night sky, I use my incredible speed to reach and stop right in front of her. She does not notice me as she begins to walk forward with her head still turned to the airport worker, and she steps right into me.

7:50. She looks up mumbling apologies until she realizes who she is apologizing to. I can sense a great deal of emotions wash over her: confusion, relief, fear, sadness, but most importantly, love. The same feeling I felt radiating from her last night despite the sour reunion. Her eyes are wide, she drops her duffle bag, and her bottom lip starts to shake. Do not cry. One as beautiful as you should never have to cry. She lunges forward, wrapping her arms around my middle, and whispers:

"I knew you'd come," I smile a little, "you always come for me."

I gently pry her small body off of me, and I cup my hand under her chin to raise her head to look at me. She is biting her lip, a nasty habit I had once cautioned her about, and she is staring intently into my eyes, piercing my soul. She really should stop biting her lip, and I know the perfect way to stop her. I lean my head down and capture her lips in a gentle kiss. Immediately, she wraps her arms around my neck. Reluctant to part, but desperately needing oxygen, I pull away as she gasps for precious air. Once more, I lean my head down, this time by her ear after I plant a kiss on her forehead.

"I love you," I whisper.

The rest, as they say, is history.