Title: Some Sort of Fairytale Ending
Author: Reinamy
Pairing: Kagome/Inuyasha
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Modern AU, mild language, mature-ish themes, etc.
Summary: The one where Higurashi Kagome is having the worst day in the history of ever until a stranger decides to rescue her, knight-in-shining-armor style. Or something like that. AU.
Disclaimer: This is non-profitable fanwork. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's Note: Oh man, it feels wonderful to be able to finish something again. I've had crazy writer's block these past several months and it got to the point that I started dreading even thinking about writing. But I somehow persevered, largely thanks to everyone who's left awesome comments on my other fics, and while I'm nowhere near where I once was, I'm getting there.
Happy reading, everyone! See you at the end!
Some Sort of Fairytale Ending
Kagome glanced at the entrance for possibly the hundredth time that evening. She checked her watch. 8:39 PM. Manicured fingers drummed against the tabletop in agitation, pausing only when the chimes above the doors tinkled. She craned her head eagerly, only to deflate when a woman with a pram strolled in. She checked her watch again. 8:46 PM.
Sighing, Kagome finished off the dredges of tea that might as well have been iced and stared at the table, which in the past three hours had seen six refills, eight dumplings, and two servings of vanilla-flavored mochi ice-cream. From the corner of her eye she could see the waitresses shooting her pitying glances—knowing what, until this point, Kagome had refused to accept.
She'd been stood up.
How humiliating, Kagome thought, tracing the rim of her teacup with her fingertip. To think, after six months of being tirelessly pursued by her coworker, Suzuki Houjo—wherein he'd slowly, painstakingly worn down her resistance until she'd not only agreed to go on a date but had also been sort of looking forward to it—he'd stood her up.
Kagome wasn't sure whom she hated more at the moment: Houjo, for making her feel like a fool, or herself for acting like one. She should have left hours ago, but it had been so easy to convince herself to wait just ten more minutes in case he showed up, because certainly she'd feel stupid if she left and ended up narrowly missing him.
Wrong, she thought, angrily flicking her cup. Now she felt stupid for not leaving.
A thought came, unbidden, that maybe he had gotten into an accident. She hadn't received any calls or messages—she'd checked—but maybe he was simply not in any position to contact her.
Or, a voice in the back of her head whispered, he just stood you up.
Kagome ignored it and swiped her finger across her screen, then tapped in the passcode. The last time she'd called—which had been nearly an hour ago—her call had gone straight to his voicemail. She hadn't called again because she didn't want to seem desperate. Now she wished she had. She brought the phone to her ear, staring into her empty teacup as it rang and rang and rang. She was ready to end the call when static erupted over the other line, followed by a tinny cough.
"Hello?" the person who was unquestionably Houjo answered. He sounded tired, like he'd just woken up. "Who's this?"
"Kagome," she gritted out before forcing her face into a more neutral expression. The last thing she wanted was to be fodder for more gossip. The waitresses—and several of the patrons, as well—were shooting her too many curious looks as it was.
"Kagome? Kagome! You called!" Over the line she heard the sound of bedsprings creaking and what sounded like a heavy blanket being shifted. "Hi! It's so nice to hear from you! Is there something I can do for you, or did you just want to talk?"
So there went her hope of him lying in a hospital bed somewhere. "An explanation for your absence would be nice," she snapped, cupping one hand over her mouth to discourage eavesdroppers. "I can't believe you!
"…Uh, Kagome? I have no idea what you're talking about," Houjo said, voice rising in pitch with every word.
She very nearly hurled her phone across the room. "The date. The date that started three hours ago. The date that you asked me on. Ring any bells?"
"That was today?" Houjo squeaked. "Wait, it's Sunday? I thought it was Saturday! Oh man, I'm so sorry, Kagome! I completely forgot! Please, let me—"
Kagome never gave him the chance to finish that sentence. She hung up, then in afterthought set her phone to decline all incoming calls before stuffing it into her purse. Her eyes fell shut as she sagged in her chair.
"He actually forgot," she murmured under her breath. "After six months of hounding me for a date, he actually forgot. Way to make a girl feel special."
Realizing she needed to deal with one more humiliating hurdle before she could finally get out of there, go home, and maybe cry a little before calling Sango for a well-deserved rant, she thrust out her hand and wiggled her fingers.
A moment later a pristinely-dressed waitress was at her table. The same one, in fact, who'd been waiting on her since she first walked into the restaurant. The same one who'd probably been gossiping with the other waitresses about the pathetic woman who'd waited three hours for a guy who never showed up.
The next time I see Houjo I'm going to kill him.
"Can I help you, miss?"
"Just the check, please," Kagome said, trying for nonchalance but missing by a mile if the sympathetic look the woman was giving her was anything to go by.
"Of course," she said, before scampering off. She returned a moment later carrying a sleek black booklet.
Accepting it, Kagome peered at the amount before sliding her credit card inside. She handed it to the waitress who slipped away again, though not before offering a commiserating smile, which Kagome responded to with a flat look.
"Could this day possibly get any worse?" she asked herself once the waitress was gone.
She really shouldn't have been so surprised when it actually did.
Kagome was peering into her compact mirror, checking for food residue on her teeth, when a horrifyingly familiar voice called out, "Kagome? Is that you?"
It felt like being submerged in ice water. Or perhaps impaled by a knife. She froze, mirror still raised, as a tall figure edged into her line of sight. Reluctantly she looked up, and immediately wish she hadn't.
Oh, you've got to be kidding me, she thought with despair as the stunningly gorgeous face of her ex-fiancé peered down at her. Which might not have been too terrible on its own, except that his arm was wrapped around his very pregnant wife's waist—a woman who, at one point, had been one of Kagome's closest friends. Y'know, before she walked in on her bumping uglies with Kagome's fiancé. A week before their wedding. On Kagome's bed. Yeah.
"Naraku," Kagome said weakly. She cleared her throat and tried not to show her discomfort by doing something as telling as shifting. Not that it mattered. He and his wife were youkai—they could probably smell her unease as easily as if it had been bottled and sprayed on. "And…Kagura. Hi. Well, the waitress is here with my receipt so I'm going to go—"
"Hang on a moment," Naraku cut in, then deftly turned to the approaching waitress and plucked the book from her fingers. The woman protested, but was ignored. "How long has it been since we've last seen each other, Kagome? Nearly two years? It would be nice to catch up, don't you agree?"
Words spoken like a caress. Once, she'd been enamored by Naraku's voice—by its sensual tenor, it's masculinity, the way it created such eloquent speech—and thought herself lucky. Naraku's voice, his words, had the power to lead, to amass, to express, to inspire. To captivate and seduce and arouse. It wasn't until after he'd betrayed her and showed her his real self that she discovered it could just as easily manipulate, mislead, and wound.
The way he spoke her name felt like snakes slithering across her skin. She instinctively shuddered—which seemed to please him, if the gleam in his crimson eyes was any indication. He probably thought he still had enough power over her to affect her.
And he did, though not in the way he thought.
Even so, Kagome was disappointed in herself for allowing Naraku even that small hold over her.
"I can't," she insisted, stubbornly meeting his eyes even though she wanted nothing more than to lower hers. "I have things to do and—"
"Is that so?" Naraku interrupted.
Kagome felt something heavy form in the pit of her stomach when he suddenly smirked. She'd seen enough people on the other end of it—including herself—to know that it meant nothing good.
"That's interesting," he continued, "because Kagura and I arrived a half-hour early for our reservation and happened to notice you sitting here, as if waiting for someone who…never showed up. Isn't that right, Kagura?"
The woman in question looked uncomfortable at being pulled into their exchange. She made a noncommittal noise and looked determinedly away, the skin at the corners of her eyes tightening.
Naraku didn't seem particularly bothered by her lack of input, but then, he always had enjoyed the solitude of the spotlight.
It was one of the many things that Kagome had chosen to overlook when they'd been together, and she now found herself wondering how she'd ever been able to stand living in Naraku's shadow. For that's exactly where she had always been, just as Kagura now was. It made her sick to think that once, that had been her, standing on the sidelines while Naraku did whatever he wanted because she'd known the futility—and feared the consequences—of getting in his way.
In some ways, she was fortunate that things ended as they had even if, at the time, it had felt like her heart had been torn in half.
"The person I was meeting got held up," she gritted out, hands tightening on the back of her chair. Following the lie was the questioning thought of why she felt the need to defend herself in the first place.
Naraku's eyes glinted at something she said. "The person? I wonder what the purpose is for such vagueness? Perhaps…are you trying to hide that you're on a date?"
Before Kagome could even think to respond he continued jovially, "Because that's absolutely wonderful, Kagome! I did so worry about you after our engagement ended. In fact, I spent many nights concerned that you could not find someone to console you as I had. Kagura was invaluable during that troubling time." In emphasis, he tightened his arm around her, eerily reminding Kagome of an animal being caught by a lasso. "In any case, it's relieving to know that you did not dwell on our past together and managed to move on.
"Though—if you wouldn't mind a small suggestion from an old friend?—perhaps you should choose those you wish to move on with more wisely? For instance, someone who wouldn't…forget your date?"
They were the center of everyone's attention by then. Distantly she was aware of the prickling sensation of eyes on her, and a sudden hush as conversations were suspended for the sake of live entertainment. Mind, it was only a distant awareness. The entirety of Kagome's attention was focused on Naraku, who was smirking cruelly down at her with eyes she had once adored, and her own newfound difficulty with breathing.
Don't let him get under your skin, she told herself. Don't let him hurt you. But her voice was a mere whisper against the deafening pounding of her heart.
Kagome felt rooted to the spot, like the floor had turned to quicksand and she was gradually sinking. Without her permission her vision blurred, which only made the part of her that wasn't two seconds away from hyperventilating even angrier.
Don't you dare cry! the voice in the back of her head snapped. Don't you dare! Not in front of all these people! Not in front of them. You're stronger than this, Kagome!
She blinked rapidly, fighting back tears, but the damage was done. Naraku looked at her in satisfaction, having elicited the desired response. Kagura was still turned away, face wrinkled in disgust. Kagome wasn't sure who it was aimed at—at Naraku, for his petty cruelty, at Kagome, for her display of weakness, or at herself, for doing nothing.
Either way, it was the breaking point, and Kagome lost the fight with her tears as one traitorously spilled over. She took a step back, determined to escape even if it meant having to cancel her credit card, when suddenly a strong arm wrapped around her and the tear was discretely wiped away in a swath of red cloth.
"Kagome!" came a man's voice in her ear.
Kagome was too stunned by the sudden breach of her personal space—not to mention that she was being held by a complete stranger—to do anything other than stare at the figure at her side.
"There you are, woman! I've been looking all over for you!"
"W-wh—"
"Sorry about work," he talked over her, "you know how my boss is, bastard always making me work overtime. Anyway, why are you still here? Didn't you get my text? I thought we were gonna meet up at the station? What the hell, woman?"
"Um, what ar—?"
"Keh, whatever, I guess it's fine since I found you and it's not too late." The guy—who had the brightest hair she had ever seen and actual, honest-to-god dog ears poking out from the top of his head—grinned at her, fangs flashing, before looking around. He finally seemed to notice the two people who were standing before her and Kagome didn't think she was imagining it when she felt his arm tighten around her.
It took Kagome a ridiculously long moment to realize that she was being saved. She almost grimaced; had she looked so pathetic that a complete stranger had actually felt the need to intervene?
I'm not a damsel in distress! she thought indignantly, even as a rush of relief and gratitude swept through her.
"Who's this?" her savior asked gruffly. Kagome thought he deserved an Oscar for his acting.
She took a second to gain her bearings, then plastered on the brightest smile she could muster. "No one important."
Inexplicably, she felt her stomach tingle when the man gave her a quick approving look before nodding and turning his head. Faster than she could keep up with, he swiped the booklet containing her credit card from Naraku's clutches and passed it to her.
"I think that's yours," he said, ignoring Naraku's stare and Kagura's twitch of surprise. "Now c'mon, the movie starts soon and fuck if I'm going to end up in the front."
Kagome hesitated. "R-right. Um, okay, let's go—"
"Just a moment," Naraku cut in. "Kagome, you've yet to introduce me to your…friend."
"And she ain't going to 'cause it ain't any of your business," the man growled before literally shepherding the flummoxed woman away. "C'mon," he whispered for her ears alone.
Kagome allowed the man-handling until they were a block away from the restaurant, and then she dug her heels in. "I think we're good," she insisted, untangling herself from his grip. She pointedly ignored the sudden feeling of loss when the man stepped away.
"Oh, right," he said, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. He glanced at her. "Uh, sorry."
"It's fine," she said. Her composure lasted all of three seconds before the magnitude of everything that had just happened hit her and took its toll. She slumped against the side of a nondescript building, covered her face in her hands, and cursed. "Crap. Crap."
"You…alright?" the man asked unsurely.
Kagome peaked at him through her fingers and groaned. "Sure, if you consider being thoroughly humiliated 'alright,' which I personally don't…"
Silence was her only response, and she sighed again. "Sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I'm just…" Utterly mortified, she couldn't bring herself to say.
"Keh. It's fine," her savior said gruffly, and Kagome had to force down a sudden rise of irritation at his flippancy, because no, it wasn't fine, it was actually the furthest thing from fine she could fathom. Two years she had spent patching up the injuries inflicted by Naraku, and in just two measly minutes it felt as if all her efforts had come undone, wounds she could have sworn were healed splitting open to bleed again.
It wasn't fine, and Kagome wanted to tell the stranger that, wanted to tell him that while she appreciated him stepping in as he had, the damage had already been done. But one look at him, at the way he was looking at her, all taut agitation and ungainlyconcern,made both the words and the irritation retreat.
Kagome was many things, but ungrateful wasn't one of them. And taking her frustration out on the one who'd helped her was the height of ingratitude.
"Sorry," she said again, turning to stare up at a sky that was considerably darker than she'd last seen it, marred by wisps of silver clouds and the faintest scattering of stars. She closed her eyes against the moonlight and breathed deeply, envisioning her frustration and aggravation as particles to be brushed from her skin and carried off by the wind. "And thank you. For what you did."
"Whatever," the stranger grumbled, and the only reason Kagome didn't become instantly vexed was because he was clearly uncomfortable, shoulders hunched and eyes averted to the ground. A moment of silence, and then he was stuffing his claws into the pockets of his coat, a bright red affair that stood out like a firefly in the dark, and clearing his throat. "Well, I'm just gonna go…"
"What's your name?" Kagome blurted without thinking.
The stranger paused from where'd he'd been taking a step back and gave her a look that was one-part bemused, one-part suspicious. "Uh, Inuyasha, what—"
"Let me take you out for coffee!" she insisted, the words pouring out of her before her mind could catch up enough to hold them back. At the stranger's—at Inuyasha's—wide-eyed stare, she hastily tacked on, "As a thank you! For helping me out!"
"Look, lady, that's really not necessary. You needed saving, I was there, so—"
And just like that, the irritation she'd tried so hard to keep at bay came flaring to life.
"Now hang on! I admit that I was in a bit of a messy spot, but I certainly didn't need you stepping in like that! Not that I'm not grateful or anything, but I could have handled it myself!"
She wasn't expecting the snort her declaration provoked, causing the irritation sparking beneath her skin to take on a tint of anger.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Inuyasha raised both hands in a universal gesture of surrender that was completely at odds with the look of sardonic disbelief he was wearing. "Nothin—"
"Because I could have!" she asserted, refusing to back down, the need to convince the one who'd saved her, to convince herself, driving her onward. "I could have. I'm not some—some damsel in distress that needs a white knight to save her. I can save myself. I have saved myself, long before you entered the picture. So don't treat me like I'm someone who's in constant need of being saved, because I'm not. I'm not."
By the end of her tirade she was panting, chest heaving from the force of it. Tears burned in the back of her eyes but she refused to let them fall, not wanting to give Inuyasha reason to doubt the truth of her words.
Silence stretched between them, broken only by the sound of Kagome's breathing, and the thudding of her heartbeat, and the distant clamor of the city winding down for the night. Inuyasha stared at her with an expression she couldn't decipher, golden eyes made brighter by the surrounding dark. After a long, taut moment he nodded, a barely-there dip of his head, and said, "Alright."
One word, probably spoken more out of appeasement than actual sincerity, but it made the tension tightening in Kagome's limbs unfurl, made her heart slow to its normal tempo, made it easier to breathe.
Kagome had a handful of seconds to enjoy the relief of actually being believed before the memory of her outburst came flooding back with all the force of an inundated river. Her face burnedwith mortification and she spun on her heel, desperate to prevent Inuyasha from seeing it—from seeing her.
Oh gods, she thought. Could I possibly embarrass myself any further? This guy must think I'm insane!
Truthfully, he wouldn't be the only one.
Kagome's mental crisis was interrupted by a soft, "Keh," which she fully intended to ignore until it was followed by an even more nonsensical, "Juice."
"…What?" she asked, unable to help herself.
"I said I don't like coffee. But if your offer's still on the table…I won't turn ya down if you treat me for juice."
Slowly, Kagome lowered her hands and turned around. Inuyasha was standing exactly where she'd last seen him, only now his arms were crossed and he'd taken to frowning at the ground. Kagome couldn't help but glance down to see if there was something unpleasant there. She lifted her gaze when she failed to notice anything and blinked in surprise at suddenly being on the opposite end of his gaze.
He really was handsome, she thought, eyes darting first to his golden eyes then to facial features that were contradictorily delicate yet strong. Aristocratic, she mused, before eyeing the long silver hair, pulled into a low tail by a strap of leather, that shone like wisps of moonlight. Atop his head were those dog ears that Kagome had first taken notice of. They twitched, which Kagome thought might have been at her scrutiny, which reminded her that she was scrutinizing—which was really, seriously rude—and she hastily looked away without meeting the gaze of the man—the demon—in front of her.
She blamed the sudden uptick of her heart on the fact that she'd been caught.
"Juice? What are you, five?" Kagome found herself saying, hoping to distract the both of them. "What kind of adult doesn't like coffee anyway?"
It worked.
"I have a sensitive nose, alright, and that shit smells nasty!" Inuyasha snapped, posture moving from defensive to aggressive in an instant. Even his ears were bristling. "Anyway, why do I have to explain myself to you!"
Kagome met his glare for all of three seconds before her restraint snapped and she doubled over, her laughter loud enough to draw stares from the distant passerby. Inuyasha was barking at her to "Oi, quit laughing, woman," but she couldn't stop. It felt as if all the pent-up emotion she'd accumulated throughout the day—from being stood up by Houjo, and running into her ex-fiancé and his pregnant wife, to making an utter fool of herself in front of the person who'd thought her pathetic enough to need saving—had finally reached its breaking point and burst.
Kagome laughed, because it was preferable to crying. She laughed because she rarely did anymore, not with the free abandon of which she'd once used to. She laughed because it felt good, really good, achingly so.
It took her a long time to wind down, constant trial and error, her thinking it over one moment only for her to look at Inuyasha—at his pinched, sullen expression, and the way his ears went flat atop his head—and break down in peals of laughter all over again.
She couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed like this, and that, if anything, just made her laugh harder.
"C-c'mon," she eventually managed, her exuberance giving her the confidence to grip Inuyasha's sleeve and tug him out of the alley they occupied and onto the main street. "There's a Jamba-Juice this way that I'm pretty sure doesn't close until eleven." She released her hold of him and dug her phone out of her purse. Pointedly ignoring the three call and twelve text notifications at the corner of the screen, she zeroed in on the time. 9:22 PM.
"Yup, we're good," she said, returning the device. "Now that we're heading there, I'm really craving something with apples. Maybe an Orchard Delight? What about you? Do you—uh. Is something wrong?"
Inuyasha was staring at her, and she fought the impulse to wipe at her face, hoping there was nothing weird on it. Surely, if there had been, he would have said something by now, right?
However, he only shook his head and turned away, resuming his tread.
Kagome frowned after him, deliberately ignoring the way her heartbeat seemed to accelerate.
"Riiight. Uh, anyway, as I was—"
Kagome's words were cut off as her foot caught on uneven pavement and she tripped.
Of course she did.
She barely had a chance to flail before strong arms caught her around the shoulders, steadying her, before carefully pulling away.
They continued walking.
"You know," Kagome found herself saying after a long moment, "I'm not usually this much of a disaster." Because she wasn't. Maybe she wasn't as put-together as some people, and wasn't what anyone sane would reasonably call whole, but she managed alright. She functioned, some days better than others, but wasn't that the same for most people? "And while I'm grateful you helped me and everything, I didn't really need it. I would have caught myself before I fell." Probably.
The scoff she received for her efforts made indignation thrum through her.
She stopped in her tracks and rounded on Inuyasha. "You've known me less than an hour, you jerk! You can't just—"
"Oi, pipe down, woman!"
"It's Kagome!"
A roll of his eyes, which only ignited her further. "Kagome. Look, I know you're not a complete disaster, alright? I mean, yeah, you're a bit of a mess—"
"I am not!"
"—but you don't come across as a disaster, okay? I know disasters, and even knowing you for less than an hour I can tell you're not one of them."
His words did little to quell her irritation. "Then why did you snort?" she asked, folding her arms.
"Because of your refusal to accept help. I mean, you clearly almost face-planted—gods, woman, yes you did!—and you still got huffy that I lent you a hand!"
"I didn't get huffy. I thanked you, didn't I?"
"Your 'thank you' sucked," Inuyasha said flatly.
Kagome gaped at him. "What does that even mean?"
"Needing help doesn't make you weak."
Inuyasha's words, spoken lowly, made her retort die in her throat. They were facing each other now, forcing the few pedestrians on the street to circle around them. A gust of wind swept past, rustling the overhead trees so that, for a moment, Kagome could hear little else. Just the crinkle of leaves and, when he spoke again, the low rumble of Inuyasha's voice.
"It just makes you…normal." One of Inuyasha's claws rose to rub the back of his neck, casting an impression of nervousness even though his eyes did not waver and his voice remained steady, strong. "So don't think I'm looking down on you, or thinking that you're weak, or whatever. 'Cause I'm not." A pause, and then, "Even I need help sometimes."
He slid his gaze away and Kagome thought she saw the corner of his mouth twitch before he continued, "…Though probably not as much as you apparently do."
"God, you're such a jerk," Kagome snapped, more out of instinct than with any real heat. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure Inuyasha could hear it. Heck, the people down the street probably could, too. There were a dozen things she wanted to say in response to his words—some honest, others not so much; a few grateful, others the furthest thing from it—but what came out was, "And to think that for a second I actually thought you were cool."
He was definitely smirking now. "Cool, huh?"
"Notice the past tense," she sniped, turning her face away to hide the heat she could feel rising to her cheeks. "Clearly it was only an illusion, and you ruined it yourself."
"Keh. Whatever, woman."
"It's Kagome."
"Speaking of, anyone ever tell you that your name is kinda weird?"
"Oh, and you think Inuyasha is any better? Talk about uncreative."
Their bickering continued even as they reached the juice bar, a good ten minutes later, and persisted well until they were kicked out by the impatient staff at five to eleven. The streets, when they left, were empty save for a few sluggish stragglers, most in rumpled business suits. The street lights were like beacons, too-bright in the darkness that had settled over the city while they'd been inside, arguing and laughing and drinking their weight in overpriced juice. The moon was gone, obscured by clouds.
"Give me your number," Kagome told him as they walked to the station. Inuyasha lived in the opposite direction, not too far from the restaurant where they'd met, but despite that Kagome hadn't exactly resisted when he insisted on accompanying her, going so far as to say she was a trouble magnet who'd probably get mugged.
"Do I even get a say in this?" Inuyasha groused, even as he searched his pockets for it.
Kagome programmed his number under "Inubaka," which he snarled at and retaliated by installing hers under "Disaster Woman." Before, it would have made her see red, hitting too close to home for comfort. But now, with Inuyasha's words branded in her memory, combined with her own placid mood, it only made her scowl in mild irritation and tug at his ears in retribution.
She'd wanted to do that all night.
"So," Kagome said when they reached the mouth of the station.
"So," Inuyasha echoed.
She rolled her eyes. "You're going to call me tomorrow."
Inuyasha raised a dark brow. "Oh, am I?"
"Yes," she said decisively. Where this newfound boldness came from, she had no idea, but she welcomed it all the same. It reminded her of the days before Naraku had sucked the confidence from her and snuffed it into nothingness, when she'd been daring and brave and so utterly sure of herself and her worth. She'd missed feeling this way, missed meeting people and simply knowing that they'd complement one another, self-assured in her attributes and everything she had to offer.
She wasn't quite there, yet. Under the surface of this thing that looked and felt like confidence, there was still doubt: that she had anything of value to bring to the table; that the looks Inuyasha gave her when he thought she wasn't paying attention weren't the products of hope and an active imagination, but real attraction and interest; and that he was as glad to have met her as she was him.
Kagome wasn't naïve enough to believe she didn't have far yet to go. The upset at bumping into Naraku and a pregnant Kagura wasn't gone; it was simply covered by a sheet to be exposed when she had a moment alone to think. And regardless how content she felt now, Kagome knew that the moment she returned to her small, empty apartment, she'd be accosted by memories of Naraku's cutting words and Kagura's cold indifference and her own pathetic weakness in the face of them. There were old wounds that needed to be re-stitched and new wounds that needed to be tended to. Dark thoughts to be weeded out and replaced by brighter ones.
It would take time, but for the first time in a long while, Kagome had a feeling that it would be easier, somehow. That maybe, when the dust settled, what emerged wouldn't be a woman covered in bruises and fragile scabs, but faint scars that no longer threatened to bleed.
Needing help doesn't make you weak, Inuyasha had told her.
For the first time in years, Kagome was beginning to realize this.
"Oi," Inuyasha said, waving a claw in front of her face. "What're you thinking about that's putting that scary look on your face? 'Cause you're kinda freaking me out."
"That if you don't move that hand I'm going to lick it."
He hastily snatched his claw back.
Kagome inhaled and stared up at him.
"And also, that I'm really glad to have met you."
She watched as his expression changed, transitioning from repulsed to shocked, and then softening further, until he was looking at her with that same helpless tenderness she'd only seen snatches of and had had to convince herself was real.
"Keh," he grumbled, folding his arms and looking away, and Kagome didn't think she was imagining the darkening of his cheeks. "What the hell, who actually says shit like that out loud?"
Before Kagome could retort he continued, so quietly she barely caught the words before they disappeared, "But yeah. You, too."
I'm in so much trouble, she thought, closing her eyes against the dizzying rush of fondness and excitement and fear that surged through her, strong enough to make her feel as if were drowning and flying and standing perfectly still all at once.
Once upon a time, Kagome would have balked at such an onslaught of familiar-yet-not emotions. Would have closed herself off, shut herself down, and fled to more familiar territory. But Kagome was changing. Slowly, so slowly she hadn't even realized it up until this very moment, but she was, and it had started with Houjo, of all people, who'd she'd unwittingly started to let in.
And now there was Inuyasha, a half-demon she'd known for less than a day—a day filled with disappointment after mishap and more confusion than could fill a well—and yet she wasn't retreating from him. She was still opening herself up to him, still planning to open herself up further, practically placing the tools to break her in his hands and trusting that he'd build something beautiful inside her instead.
Kagome was changing, and she had no idea what she'd be changing into, which terrified her and excited her in equal measure. So when Inuyasha—not the catalyst of her change, but an accelerant, an unknown chemical that would produce an indefinite, possibly even hazardous reaction—lifted his claw, palm raised to the sky, and offered it to her, Kagome only briefly hesitated before dropping her hand into his and squeezing.
Their fingers slid together and it felt so right, and Kagome knew—with the same certainty she knew that the seasons would change, and that the sun would rise and fall, and that bad things might happen but good things would follow, if you let them—that there was no turning back. Not from this.
It might not have been a classic fairytale ending, but somehow, what she held now was even better.
It was a brand new start.
The End.
End Note: So, funny story. I actually wrote two versions of this fic. The first, which was supposed to follow the same course as the above, derailed from the 'plan' so much that I had to re-write it. In my first draft, Kouga was the bastard ex and Ayame was his wife, only I balked at the idea of writing the two of them as assholes and ended up with this long ass story full of lots of groveling and tears and painful conversations and absolutely no Inuyasha in sight. LOL. Like, the whole point was to write an InuKag fic where Inuyasha saves the day, and he didn't even make an appearance. Man I hate myself sometimes, haha. OTL
Anyway, thanks so much for reading, everyone! Comments are super appreciated, as always! 'Til next time!