Author's Corner
You all knew it was only a matter of time before I finally caved and wrote some Kagkik (how have I never written anything for them before what the heck), so here it is: basically all the Gay. Review if you enjoy and let me know your thoughts!
Disclaimer: I don't own *Kagome voice* INUYASHAAAAAA
WARMTH
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"Sometimes, when chaos burns like wildfires around us: we have no other choice but to fall in love with the warmth." ~ Christopher Poindexter
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Kikyo remembered feeling a warmth when she opened her eyes. A bizarre, gentle fluttering warmth in the chasm of her chest. Like the beating wings of a bird.
She hadn't felt anything like that since she was alive.
Her eyelids slowly lifted as she lay in the pool in the mountains, and she saw Kagome, whose eyes were pressed shut in immense concentration and her expression was twisted into a severe grimace.
Kagome.
Clouds of bruised purple engulfed them in the water, but a bright light was shining where Kagome's hands touched her chest. That was where the warmth was coming from, radiating through the clay shell of Kikyo's body and filling her with a sense of wholesomeness.
She remembered the miasma tearing her apart from within then, and recognised the light as purification energy.
She was being cleansed of all that might harm her.
By Kagome.
The toxic clouds parted suddenly and dissipated into clear water, and a bright yellow light shone from above the water's surface. Kikyo felt the radiance of the sun in her drugged and dazed state, then felt Kagome fall forward and sag against her unconscious.
They floated to the surface gently, and Kikyo caught Kagome in her arms before she sunk back down underwater. Her eyes were closed and her smoky lashes glittered with droplets of water just like her hair. Her lips were parted slightly and Kikyo could feel breath blowing softly against her exposed collarbones. She tightened her hold around Kagome and pulled her to the bank, setting her down on the ground and pushing the hair out of her face.
The warmth in her chest thrummed strongly like a pulse, which was impossible because she didn't have a heart anymore.
Kikyo lifted a hand to ghost her fingers across her now unscarred chest and stared down at Kagome. She'd used up a huge portion of her power healing her, and Kikyo couldn't at all fathom why the girl would do something like that. Especially for her of all people.
Why did you do it? she wanted to ask, staring at Kagome's delicate features. Don't you care that I continue to steal Inuyasha away from you?
But of course, Kagome didn't answer. Her chest rose and fell slowly in steady breathing, and Kikyo carefully pressed a hand over Kagome's chest, feeling the rhythmic hammering of her living heart against her own stone-cold palm.
Kikyo knew she should leave before Kagome woke up. Leave before she could talk to her in that pitying voice or look at her with those sad brown eyes. But pity wasn't all that Kikyo saw in the girl's eyes, there was also intimidation and hidden envy, though Kikyo couldn't think of what Kagome had to be envious of.
Kagome was alive.
And soft.
And warm.
She was everything Kikyo wanted to be but couldn't, and even she herself wondered why Inuyasha felt so indebted to choose her when Kagome was right there as a choice instead. Kikyo hated his pitying looks as well. She hated the way he and the rest of his group looked at her. Like she was a ghost, or an evil spirit unable to rest. She supposed she was both of those things, but she hated it when they made her remember.
Kagome didn't always look at her like that though. Sometimes, like when they'd been alone and trapped together in that cave, she looked at her with a gentleness and inspired resolve, like she saw her as an actual living being and wanted to gain her comradeship and approval.
Kikyo thought she hated that more than the mournful pitying looks.
The Shinidamachu glided along the winds and patterned the area like streams of silver, and Kikyo stood when Kagome's eyelids began to flitter and closed her haori, feeling the warm sensation against the inside of her wrists as she closed the folds of her kimono.
It was like a borrowed heartbeat; a temporary essence of life.
Kagome awakened and sat up on the bank, blinking slowly before she spotted the Shinidamachu in the air above. She then saw Kikyo standing with her back to her, her two shikigami silent at her sides. Her gaze alone was filled with a heat Kikyo could feel even with her back turned, and if she had a heart she knew it would be thundering furiously with anxious anticipation.
"Kikyo?" she called her name.
"Why did you save me?" Kikyo asked finally, unsure if she dared her the answer, and Kagome rose to her feet.
"Didn't you call me here?"
The mellow vibrations became more intense.
"You had a choice . . ." she said, "You had a choice of whether or not to save me."
"I don't think it came down to a matter of choice."
Kikyo turned her head then and saw Kagome's eyes blazing with that fierce determination of hers.
Curse that resilience, she thought. Curse that strength.
"If there's someone who needs to be saved," Kagome said, "And I'm the only one who can save them, then of course I'll save them."
Kikyo's mind stopped for a moment and a surge of bitterness crept into her at Kagome's selflessness.
". . . Then I won't thank you, since you made the choice."
She regretted saying it instantly.
She asked about the visions she knew Kagome had seen as she was saving her, then decided to drop the subject and leave. She wandered into the night with her shikigami and Shinidamachu, hearing Kagome's voice pleading her to stay and see Inuyasha gradually fade away with distance. She had no desire to see Inuyasha, and she knew Kagome had no desire for him to see her either.
Was this an act of selflessness, she wondered? Removing herself to save Kagome the emotional anguish of being abandoned by the man she loved yet again?
No. Kikyo didn't know how to be selfless.
But it came so easily to Kagome.
The warmth in her chest remained even as she walked away, beating steadily against the palm she held over it.
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Whenever they saw each other after that, Kikyo would feel strange, unsure of how to act around the girl. The warmth in her chest hadn't left and it only grew in Kagome's presence, increasing slowly and slowly until she could feel it flowing throughout her entire body. She was beginning to feel rather alarmed by it.
Especially when she and Kagome ended up having to seek shelter from a storm in a small temple in the mountains one night.
They'd crossed paths earlier that day by accident, and Kikyo had wondered why Kagome was always alone whenever they encountered one another now. Always in the mountains as well. It was like the universe was toying with them and forcing them together for its own amusement, to laugh and clap its hands at Kagome's awkwardness and Kikyo's confusion.
Sitting in the shrine staring out at the grey storm clouds, which occasionally flashed electric yellow with lightning, Kikyo turned to the statue inside and bowed her head in prayer. Kagome watched her and tried to do the same, but Kikyo was well aware that the girl had no idea what she was doing. At times she wondered how Kagome could even truly call herself a miko, with her limited knowledge of the religion and the culture.
She was wise in other aspects, though.
Finding an offering of bread, Kikyo took it and broke it to share with Kagome.
"Are . . . we allowed to do that?" Kagome asked hesitantly.
"What's ours is the Gods', and what is the Gods' is ours," Kikyo replied.
Kagome looked at her with that faint awed expression she sometimes had, and Kikyo wondered what was running through her mind whenever she wore that face. Kagome was a giant colossal mystery if Kikyo had ever known one, except Kagome quite simply could not be decoded.
If there's someone who needs to be saved, and I'm the only one who can save them, then of course I'll save them.
It was infuriating.
What happened after that bewildered Kikyo even more, because before long Kagome had uncovered a hidden bottle of sake and started pouring them each a drink. Perhaps she felt that her awkwardness would be resolved with a touch of alcohol, but Kikyo stared into the clear liquid in her cup and felt sinful. But her religion had never done anything for her in all her life and this wretched afterlife, she thought, staring into her cup, then downed it in one.
She stopped counting after that first cup.
Soon, they were speaking as they'd never spoken before, about all the things they both knew they'd always been afraid to speak of to each other.
They spoke of Inuyasha, and Naraku, the journey and the hardships, and their shared divided soul. It felt so easy suddenly, and Kikyo wondered if the liquid warmth in her throat was responsible. Regardless, at that moment under the blanket of a storm talking with Kagome, for the first time, Kikyo's life felt easy.
"I don't think he loves either of us," Kagome admitted softly as she stared up at the wooden planks in the ceiling.
"No?" Kikyo asked.
"No," Kagome shook her head, "Not properly anyway. Not the way we want to be loved."
Kikyo understood that unlike anything she'd ever understood.
"It's not his fault," Kagome carried on, "He tries so hard to make us happy—both of us—but it's not enough. He tries and tries but it's not. I don't think it'll ever be enough."
"Perhaps it's all he can give," Kikyo wondered aloud, "The life he's led, the suffering he's endured, perhaps he has no love to give."
It came out harsher than she'd intended, but Kagome didn't rebuke her. She seemed to understand the meaning behind those partially harsh words, and tilted her head to regard Kikyo. She was wearing that expression. The rare one, with gentle eyes and her peony mouth in a sad curve.
Kikyo hated that one the most.
"You've suffered too," she whispered, and Kikyo's heart would have broken right then if it was still beating.
Don't, she willed with her mind. Please don't.
She couldn't take her selflessness and compassion any more.
"You suffered," she said quietly, "More than I could ever understand, and all you ever wanted was a normal life where you could be happy. You didn't deserve any of the horrible things that happened to you, and I know you think I hate you, but I don't. I don't hate you, Kikyo. I don't . . ."
Kikyo closed her eyes, feeling the unfamiliar sting of tears pricking her eyes. Could she cry? She didn't know. She hadn't cried in such a long, long time.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologise."
"But I am."
"I said that you don't have to apologise, Kagome."
Kagome's expression bled into one of hurt and Kikyo cursed her quickness to resort to harsh words. She was all sharpness and cruelty, whereas Kagome was gentle and kind, everything she didn't know how to be, and she hated her for it.
"Kikyo . . ." she whispered, and Kikyo squeezed her eyes shut tighter.
I don't think he loves either of us.
They had won his affection, but nothing they could ever do would win his love. That was impossible, because didn't even love himself.
But Kikyo didn't love herself either.
She hated herself infinitely more than she could ever hate Inuyasha or Kagome.
"Kikyo," Kagome called again, firmer this time, and Kikyo opened her eyes to stare at her.
The girl's eyes were shining and unusually determined, and Kikyo felt the tears thickening in her eyes and blurring her vision.
Kagome sat up slightly all of a sudden and reached for her cup of sake, downing it in one go, and Kikyo was surprised at the ferocity of her swallow.
"What was that for?" Kikyo asked, her throat lined with a lump of sorrow and burning with the remaining trace of the liquor.
Kagome put the cup down and when she spoke again her voice was deeper than Kikyo had ever heard it sound. Her eyes were still blazing and Kikyo felt herself shiver when Kagome parted her lips and answered . . .
"Liquid courage."
And then she kissed her.
Kikyo was almost too shocked to register what was happening because one second her and Kagome were just drinking and talking, but now Kagome was kissing her . . . and Kikyo wanted to kiss her back.
Kagome's mouth was as warm as the hands that had purified the poison from inside of her, and something burst to life like a flame inside of Kikyo as she gripped Kagome's arm and gasped between kisses. Kagome was on top of her, but she wasn't pinning her to the wooden boards like a trapped animal. She was deliberate but tender with her kisses, and Kikyo began to not care whether this was the influence of a drunken haze. It felt like a dream, misty and distorted, but she just didn't care.
She shoved her hands into Kagome's thick raven curls and pulled her closer, kissing her desperately and uncaring that there was a God in the room bearing witness to such a brazen act. The fire in Kikyo's chest surged and exploded into her veins like hot scorching blood, and she briefly remembered how being alive felt as Kagome's hands ran along the expanse of her body in exploration. Kikyo could taste Kagome's heart beating through her skin when she kissed along her neck, and Kagome's hand found Kikyo's waist and squeezed firmly. Kagome's legs were smooth as Kikyo ran her fingers along them, but strong and lined with muscle.
They kissed for what was likely a long time before Kagome broke away abruptly and her eyes flashed with panic.
"Is this weird?" she spluttered, face still mere centimetres from Kikyo's.
"To a degree."
She regretted that response because Kagome appeared to start to shift off her, but Kikyo held her in place and leaned up and kissed her again. She didn't care if it was bizarre or taboo or just plain wrong. She needed to feel Kagome's warmth.
Kagome stopped trying to pull away and kissed her back fiercely, hands fisting into Kikyo's hair and lifting her head to angle her head to kiss her deeper. The sound of their lips smacking apart and together began to sound like music in Kikyo's ears and she held the fabric of Kagome's shirt tightly. She had never been kissed like this, her lone experience being a cold lifeless touch of Inuyasha's lips. It was a poor comparison to Kagome's scorching mouth and tongue which was sometimes followed with a brief graze of teeth. Everything seemed to be a poor comparison to Kagome, actually.
Kikyo herself was a poor comparison.
Not the way we want to be loved.
Kagome lowered her head and began kissing a trail along Kikyo's defined collarbones, and Kikyo laid her head down on the wood and stared up at the ceiling. She wondered how long she'd wanted this. How long she'd wanted Kagome's hot mouth on her skin; her hands on her hips; her breath in her ear. Her entire body was on fire, glowing with a sense of both desire and fulfilment.
She wondered what would happen if Inuyasha could see them like this. Hair ruffled, breathing heavy and eyes glazed over with something Kikyo didn't recognise.
Kagome was warm. She was so warm and strong. She was gentle and kind and fierce. Kikyo wondered how Inuyasha couldn't bring himself to release his hold on the past and love her, regardless of his inability to love himself. If there was anyone a self-loathing spirit of bitterness and solitude could find comfort with, it was her.
A wonderful, stupid, kind, aggravating, gentle girl.
A kindred soul.
Kikyo began to wonder if it was still Inuyasha she was pondering about.
Soon all thoughts in her mind were wiped by Kagome's lips tracing along her shoulders and up and along her face. She felt so impossibly warm and alive it was like the fraction of soul left inside her was singing.
Singing in harmony with the rest of the soul within Kagome.
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