Author's Notes: Hi ya all! (^_^) I'm sick right now, but I suddenly felt like updating. (Even though I received quite an unenthusiastic response to the latest dark chapter of "Kikyou" and "4Seasons"needs updating...) My question this time (which is never answered): Why do guys always get to be on top?

Don't worry, there's no X-rated content in this. I just thought of combining two things I rarely write about. :)

The Blooming of the Crescent Flower

If left alone too long, the beautiful rose will lose all sense of time and touch...

If shown love, it will bloom only in its lover's hands.

He had been waiting for her for 2 hours and 35 minutes. He told himself that the only reason they were dating was because she had asked and because Inuyasha's face was just too comical to him when he realized that his older "brother" was dating his "ex" lover. As if you could really call them over with considering that Kikyou was only going out with him because of his connection to Inuyasha.

That was why he hated people. Getting used and being abused. They left you alone to rot and die when the time was up and they no longer needed you. If Inuyasha only knew how he felt...

But of course he couldn't know. And now they weren't speaking to each other.

"Sesshoumaru!"

Kikyou's voice was warm as honey, but as cold as ice water at the same time. Her words were supposed to be loving, but the tone was just the opposite. Kikyou's voice was unusually deep for a teenager. Seductive or husky as some would call it. Both of them were seniors and in different sections of the Combat Club: a club for people with an appreciation of old and antique weapons.

They were meeting at sunset because Kikyou had a skin condition that made it hard for her to stand intense light. Only a handful of people have ever been born with that condition in this particular section of Japan. A section that was frozen in winter and never visited by summer. But this year fall was unusually warm and the sun, as always, was soft and gentle with the wind. Old oak leaves, faded with the season, rustled past his legs and his abnormally long silver hair rustled in the wind like the leaves on the trees.

It wasn't like he was waiting for her, not really. It was more like he had two tickets for a movie and he just couldn't say no to them or pass them on to anyone. The only other person that would be interested in a war movie set in ancient Japan would be Rin. And Rin agreed to everything he said. Jaken was out of the question. With his "Sesshoumaru-sama" routine it would spoil the brilliance of the movie.

As Kikyou pulled to a stop in front of him, Sesshoumaru looked her over. Kikyou wasn't what some would call "delicate." If anything she was unimposing at best and plain out intimidating at worst. Cold and emotionless, she was the complete opposite of him in looks only. He had always been mistaken for a woman, but if Inuyasha hadn't said that she was a "woman" on their second meeting he would never have been able to tell she was a girl. And if she hadn't blackmailed him they wouldn't have gone out. In the maroon and gold colors of their school uniform, her frosty visage was enhanced by fall.

"Did you wait long?"
"Hmph, you have some nerve to be late."

"Well I had to take care of a few things. It's not like this is the first time, Sesshoumaru."

His name on her lips sounded exotic. Like a forbidden fruit come to bloom. His name meant nothing but death and pain to him, yet she said it, caressed it, like it meant the world. For once her feelings were conveyed.
What ever feelings those might be, not for him, but for his brother.

Snatching himself violently from his thoughts, Sesshoumaru snapped at her.

"What is that suppose to mean? Two months of going out and that gives you the right to be late?"

"I told you I was—never mind, let's just go, okay?"

Kikyou reached for his arm, her pale fingers just touching the elbow of his jacket sleeve. On reflex Sesshoumaru pulled away and covered his arm with his left hand.

Kikyou's eyebrows shot up in a smug look. "Oh right, I forgot you hate people. What was the name for that irrational phobia again?"

Angry, but not letting it show, he shouted at her to be quiet and went on ahead.

Like it was his fault he was born with this only flaw. People were dirty and disgusting and filthy. His own father, mother, and step-mother were examples of that; not to mention Inuyasha. The only friends he had were Jaken and Rin, and Sesshoumaru never had close physical contact with either of them.

And then there was this "girlfriend" of his. Kikyou.

The movie was nothing to "ride home about" (as the expression goes), but it wasn't exactly bad either. In his opinion the characters were the only good things about it. The villain needed some work though. Who would go that far for revenge? Sesshoumaru had expected more from his favorite director.
It was pure luck that the theater allowed him to exchange his old tickets for ones for a new showing. And it was even better luck that they arrived 10 minutes before the next showing started.

Kikyou hadn't said a word to him the whole time. He kept telling himself it was for the best, but inside Sesshoumaru knew she had the upper hand now. His one weakness was exposed.

They had started dating because of that and mutual hatred for Inuyasha. When Sesshoumaru had been cleaning one of the few swords their club owned his hand slipped and the blade cut his arm. Kikyou had tended to him, but not before finding out about his phobia. And that had started it all. With her simple suggestion about getting back at Inuyasha, who Sesshoumaru had always hated since the day he was born, and her knowledge of his secret they had started dating. Together they deceived the whole school and Inuyasha into thinking they were a loving couple.
A loving couple that didn't even hold hands.

"That movie was great, wasn't it?" Kikyou's sudden cheerfulness after her long silence was strange, throwing Sesshoumaru off guard.

"... It's late, I'm going home."

"Wait, at least let me make it up to you by making you dinner."

Sesshoumaru looked down into Kikyou's eyes. Her brown eyes stared straight into his golden ones unflinching. As far as he could tell there was no ulterior motive.

"...Alright..."

Kikyou's house was on a lonely corner of the suburbs. She didn't have any neighbors and the wild oak and willow trees in front of her home were overgrown. Kikyou lived by herself. Her parents were gone and it was just her and her sister—who was sleeping over at a friend's house. As the overhead lights in the hallway were turned on along with the ones in the kitchen, it was apparent just how vast the place was.

"I'm sorry it's a little messy right now. We haven't had a chance to clean up for awhile. How about beef stew?"

Sesshoumaru hummed a reply and stepped toward the large glass windows in the living room by the kitchen. The window took up the whole wall and showed a magnificent view of the neighborhood and the park as well as the forest beyond bathed in the twilight. Absentmindedly Sesshoumaru touched the scar on his forehead. The waning crescent moon was rising; a slim sliver of white with the reminding space in darkness.

"You never told me how you got that scar." Kikyou's sweet breath on his ear caught him by surprise. How had she come so close without him noticing?

"Back away! Ah—"

Her hands slipped over his shoulders. The touch making his shoulder blades tingle painfully.

"Ah!"

"Does it hurt? It's only imaginary pain. Inuyasha told me when you guys were kids you climbed a lot of trees together..."

Her hands dipped lower, over and under his coat and around his waist, even over the collar of his shirt and under the buttons.

Teeth clenched in pain, Sesshoumaru fisted his hands. His nails left cat claw scratches on the safety glass.

"It...hurts...let go..."

"And one day when you went up a tree to get Inuyasha down, you slipped and fell..."

"Ah! No..."

He hated himself for sounding weak, but her finger tips over his bare skin were painful yet pleasurable at the same time.

She wasn't listening to his cries as she continued her game. He felt cornered and dirty, yet she went on with her silly story of his one act of heroism.

"...You gained the purple scar and those scratches on your arms and face because of it. Everyone said you were a yellow eyed demon..."
Her tongue flicked out and caressed his ear, her teeth nibbled sensually. He was lost.

"But what a shy demon you are. You can't stand the touch of another person. I'm so greedy..."

She pressed her body against his, her breasts soft against his back. Somehow Kikyou had managed to pull off his jacket and was unbuttoning his shirt, her other hand lifting the back of it so their skin touched. The glass was cold. His face was hot and the moon was no comfort.

"Someone might see. You've had your fun, let go of me!"

"...I'm so greedy I want you all to myself."

"Wha—!"

Before he knew it, her hands had ripped off the remaining shreds of his dignity as they moved lower, pulling him over the edge of sanity.

"Wha—Ah, ah!"

"You're so arrogant! You don't even notice why I was late or this trap I set up for you."
Kikyou had pushed him down and was now on top of him, her small hands managing to hold down his larger ones.
"Kikyou—"

"All you see is yourself! I didn't ask you out for Inuyasha. And I didn't care for you that day when you injured your arm because I was concerned or wanted to hurt Inuyasha. I just wanted you."

plop, plip, plop

Something wet and cold and salty touched his face. Kikyou's tears and her sobs were pathetic and beautiful at the same time.

"I...I..."

If left alone too long anything will wither. If tended to, eventually it will bloom.
Breaking her grip on his wrist, Sesshoumaru reached up and brushed away her tears. Bringing her head to rest on his chest, he sighed softly.

"And here I thought you were playing a game with me."

"Sesshoumaru... Isn't it painful?"

"Hm?" He hadn't noticed when it had stopped being painful. His phobia of human contact was gone.

"No. Not really. Not anymore."

"You must think I'm horrible..."

He tilted her face toward the moonlight. Her face resembled a white lily blossoming under the power of the moon.

"Not really. Molest me more often."

It was sweet yet there wasn't any pain anymore. The meeting of lips and the touch of each other's body is the desirable pain that can only be had by cultivating a rare flower with ones own hands.

If left alone too long, the beautiful rose will lose all sense of time and touch...

If shown love it, will bloom only in its lover's hands.

(The Blooming of the Crescent Flower—End)