Searching for Love

By: foxfirearchergrl

Chapter 1: How Could He?

How could he? How dare he? He was hers, hers to take with her to Hell! How could he! He was hers alone!

"Damnit, Kikyo! Stop this! This is madness!" shouted a desperate Inuyasha to the statuesque figure who stood no more than 1o feet from him.

Why should I? An enraged Kikyo thought it's obvious that he loves that little slut more than me.

"Kikyo, Stop it! I love you, Damnit! You and only you! Kagome is-"

"Kikyo, Stop it! I love you, Damnit! You and only you! Kagome is-"he stopped. What was he going to say? His heart wrenched as he thought of the words he longed to say. Longed to say, but couldn't, wouldn't. His mouth had gone as dry as the Bone Eater's Well which had first connected them. Surely she meant more to him than that? After all they'd been through… together…How could he?

"Kagome is just…" he couldn't say it, couldn't betray her this way. But he loved her… didn't he? Didn't he love the woman before him with all his heart? If so, why did his stomach feel like it had decided to take up residence in his throat? Is that what she deserved? The woman, who had stood by him through so much, cared about him; possibly even loved him? And if it was love, she loved him not for what he could be through the power of the Shikon no Tama, but for what he was now, a hanyou. He couldn't stop the words which threatened to escape him, was powerless against the ferocity of the once-beautiful corpse before him. His abnormally strong will buckled before the feminine whiles of the long dead miko. So he said it: "Kagome is just a shard detector, nothing more. Kikyo, you know that I have pined for you since the moment of your death." And the words ripped his heart form his chest, slashed it to pieces and sucked the breath from his lungs.

"Then come with me to hell. There we can forever be together with nothing to separate us." She hissed in his ear.

"Kikyo, I can't go with you to hell right now, not just yet. I have too many responsibilities here right now."

As he spoke those terrible, terrible lies to the woman he once loved, as his heart withered and crumbled and died inside of him, a part of him knew that there was no turning back, not after this.

How could he? After all she'd risked for him, after all she'd told him! How many times had she said she loved him? How many times had she known without a doubt that he had heard her heartfelt confessions? How dare he! Was that all she was to him, 'Just a shard detector?' How could he? Was that all she was, just another responsibility? She crouched in the shrubbery, hidden, for the moment. She had only come to tell him that she was leaving for home for a week to replace the supplies which weighed down her bright, lemon yellow back-pack. She had expected him to be hunkered down in a tree, guarding the well from a distance to prevent her flight without permission. She had expected a simple tiff, which would have ended with her "sitting" him multiple times and escaping through the well whilst he was down. He would promptly follow, annoy her until she finally gave in and returned with him, knapsack once again full to bursting. This was supposed to be nothing different, but low and behold she had found him, not in the bough of an aged tree, but in the arms of a long dead miko, pleading with her and making excuses as to why he could not currently join her soul in Hell. The statements he had made about her had stung her deeply. She had to wonder, 'Is that all I am to him?' Was she just a 'shard detector'?

Her hands and feet had begun to ache from the pressure which she had been exerting upon them for the last half an hour. It had been so long… 'Inuyasha, I love you more than anything in this or any other world! Can't you see that?' The heartfelt thoughts pounded inside her chest, begging, pleading to be let loose. Her heart longed to yell, to scream till her lungs burst 'I love you! I love you, Inuyasha!' but her throat had dried up and she would not, could not let those words, those awful, wonderful truths escape from her. What would he think? After all he loved Kikyo, right? Her legs wanted to raise her from the ground, to rush her to his side. Her arms longed to embrace him, to never let go. She wanted him to return that embrace, oh that sweet embrace! But she couldn't. Not now, not with her there. Hadn't he just said he'd loved her, the long dead thing which stood there before him? Had he really pined for her since the day she had died? If so, then why had he held her so tightly, embraced her with such care, so many times? Why had he seemed sorrowful, almost heartbroken every time he thought she had died? How could she face him now? Now that he embraced the witch before him so lovingly. The same kind of love his eyes had sparkled with when he held her… She wanted to have him love her, the same way she loved him. But she couldn't go to him now. She wouldn't face him again. If she just left, he wouldn't have to see her any more. And she wouldn't have to see him; wouldn't have to break her heart again…and again…

Raising herself high enough off the ground to escape the horrible scenario, which played out before her, she turned to go, never looking back. As she began her way towards the well, towards her escape portal and away from the scene in the clearing, her foot made contact with the ground and a loud, earsplitting CRACK! wrent the silence of the evening.

CRACK!

At the sound of the dead foliage snapping under the foot of the unseen observer, she whirled around, ending the embrace. Someone was there, watching. Focusing her power, she sent an enormous blast of pure energy towards the unknown spectator. As the energy hit the onlooker, she heard a sharp, short yelp of pain and briefly glimpsed a flash of raven hair. She smiled at the results of her attack and thought deviously, 'It's her…'

Why hadn't he smelt it before? Her scent had flooded through the parting in the trees, why hadn't he noticed? Was he that used to it? He did not know, nor did he care. All he knew was that now, her wonderful scent was mixed with that of her own blood. He had to reach her, somehow. He shoved the Dead One away, didn't want to embrace her any more and inhale the scent of earth and gravesoil, which were a part of her very being. He pushed her away, and rushed as fast as his clawed feet could carry him toward the treeline. Toward the scent of blood, her blood, her scent. The scent he loved more than anything else in the world. It was a sweet, flowery scent, which hinted of various spices. And blood. Her blood. And it was all his fault it was escaping her.