Ending It
BY: InuGoddess
DISCLAIMER: I don't own, or claim to own, the Inuyasha characters.
A/N: Imagine that Inuyasha was born in modern times in North America. He has the values of a 20-year-old male...for the most part lacking anything close to honor or restraint. Now imagine a girl like Kagome, beautiful, idealistic and trusting, promising and wanting anything in hope of staying by his side. Any guy I know would take full advantage of the situation, even if their better judgement and 'friendship caring' warned against it. But even so guilt always plays a role. In the anime Inu's guilt keeps him from acting and spurs his honor, but today, would it have the same effect?
This is a take on the reality of Inuyasha and Kagome.
"You want it all! You want everything except the responsibility of your deeds!" She yelled, her face twisted with hurt and frustration.
"Yes!" He growled, grabbing her upper arm roughly, "I do, and so what? Why does the title mean so much to you, you know I can't care...you know me!"
Gingerly she removed her arm from his grasp, ignoring the dull throbbing.
"Yes," she said calmly and coolly, sadness in her mahogany eyes, "I know you. I love who I know."
He rolled his eyes in frustration, "DO NOT love me!"
Anger boiled over her features again, "Do not love you? You expect me to fuck you but not to love you? To understand and reassure you of your faults and wake up next to you...to feel your hand on my skin, your mouth on my breast..." her voice lowered, softening, " You think its wonderful to wake up with me beside you, you said so. You love me with your body, your eyes, and even in the words you speak but you will not admit it!"
"DAMN love!" He thundered, "Don't you see we had everything?! It was perfect until you had to complicate it..."
"It's always been complicated!"
"Fuck that, you know what you agreed to! You're the one who suggested this. Fucking around is all it's supposed to be!"
"'Fucking around' does not include your gentle touch, or tender words, or..."
"I was just doing what you wanted!"
"I wanted you to love me!" At that took his forearm and quieted, " You said that I know you, and I do, I see more in your eyes when you touch me..."
Violently he yanked his arm away from her. His molten eyes glaring into hers, hoping to inflict some pain with their coldness.
"I'm good at being who people want me to be."
"You told me once that you were you with me, and I said "Good" because that's been all I've ever wanted."
"I lied."
She looked painfully into his golden eyes; they were stone, filled with anger and hatred. She didn't understand what had suddenly changed for him, or why he wanted to hurt her so.
"You lie now," she whispered violently and turned to leave, prepared to let this be for today before one of them said something they'd really regret.
He wasn't.
"Fuck you! You think you're so Goddamned special?! You think that you could get me to love you, you wanted to change me? Fuck you." He grabbed her and turned her back so she was facing him. "You're nothing to me."
She swallowed hard, and her small body shook with suppressed hurt. Two tears gathered on her lashes and threatened to fall.
There was a flicker of emotion behind his eyes when he saw her brave tears, but he shoved it away, hardening his resolve to get this over with as quickly as he could.
The emotions he was hiding from her were what wounded her the most. She knew he cared for her, but he did this to her anyway, it didn't make any sense.
"I know you," she whispered raggedly, "I've never tried to change you, you've been doing that all on your own. I know you; I've witnessed your love for your family, your job...for your ridiculous sword collection! And I've seen your love for me."
He was getting desperate now; he needed her out before he lost his resolve.
"I was just fucking you for the fun of it...lack of anyone better."
She closed her eyes, trying to block his cruel words, "You never wanted to have to be called on by me, you thought it would drag you down, thought love wasn't possible, wasn't real..." then she looked directly into his soul, " until you woke up next to me..."
"I just like having my dick sucked."
She paled at that and extracted herself from his grip.
"You will die alone." She whispered her voice strained with hurt and longing.
She was pushing his angry buttons again.
"Oh, come on! We've got our whole fucking lives ahead of us! You don't honestly think that this is it do you? I'll have plenty..."
"No you wont."
The surety in her voice chilled him more than he wanted to admit.
"You'll fuck plenty, but you'll die lonely."
He was surprised that her voice held as little bitterness as it did, it seemed as though she actually pitied him.
"Every time you try to become a part of something you'll remember this day. You'll see my tears and hear your words and remember that you can't love anything...because you just destroy it."
"You're a fucking nut case, you know that?! An obsessed fucking bitch...!"
"Do my words scare you that much?" It was almost a gear; she was mocking the fear in his eyes.
"Fuck you." He spat.
"You already have."
She turned to leave then, and he made no move to stop her this time. But she stopped and looked over her shoulder, giving him a glimpse of the pain that had settled on her face.
"I really did love you." And with that whatever resolve she'd had crumpled away and she was completely vulnerable before him for the brief moment before she fled his apartment.
He watched her leave, heard the building door slam, and her car start up and drive away. While she'd been in the apartment he'd held his ground - she was a worthless bitch - but as soon as she was gone he let out breath and sat down. He eyes lighted on a poster on the wall, one that it just so happened she'd given him. He stared blankly at the poster. Anger welled up, but he only kept staring. That wall would remain that way forever, constantly standing before him, holding that which reminded him of her.
Suddenly the anger over whelmed him, and he ripped the poster down. He smiled an empty, hollow, victorious smile.
He'd done what he'd set out to do. He'd stood his ground. She could no longer keep her illusions alive.
It was better this way anyway, less complicated...
"Things have always been complicated..." Her words surfaced in his memory.
"Fuck complications," he said, and remembered what it felt like to be free of complications.
He wouldn't let himself think about what she'd said. He wouldn't worry about it. He simply didn't care.
A part of him knew this was all untrue.
Not wishing to think on it anymore, he moved to his feet and left his home.
He would not be a pawn in her silly little 'live games'. He was his own person.
"I really did love you." Pasted tense. Good! It was about time she got over it.
He turned a corner, hoping to turn away from that line of thought.
"...you loved me...with you eyes..." Fuck the eyes, it was all a bunch of bullshit anyway!
" ...thought love wasn't possible, wasn't real...until you woke up next to me..." Pretty fucking sure of herself wasn't she?
He kicked a pop can from his path but didn't notice.
He wasn't going to be the standard, not some weak bastard who followed the rules; he lived his life how he wanted...
"...you can't love anything...because you just destroy it..." Of course he did, he'd told her that from the beginning, told her he'd be an ass to her and it'd just screw up the friendship. The stupid bitch should have listened to him in the first place.
But of course she hadn't. She'd held on to the ridiculous notion that if she stuck around long enough, loved him hard enough that he'd magically become something he wasn't, and love her and be a good boyfriend.
He scowled. She really was a nut job.
He'd never given her any reason to believe any of those things of him...
Not true!
He shoved aside the inner voice that strove to remind him of the friendship they'd once shared, to remind him that long ago he'd told her just how much she'd really meant to him.
That was history...so long ago he hardly remembered. He simply didn't care anymore. It was too much effort. She was too much effort. It just wasn't worth it. And her relentless faith in his non-existent feelings was just too much of a burden. He didn't need the feelings of guilt that stirred in his chest every time her hurt eyes caught his. He didn't need her care or her love.
He didn't need her.
He didn't want her.
No complications, no problems...
Alone he didn't have to worry, he didn't have to care, and he wouldn't have to feel guilty because of who he was. He refused to feel guilty because the stupid bitch refused to acknowledge the truth. She could have him as he was and take what ever he dished out, or she could fuck herself.
He didn't care. He wasn't changing for her.
"I've never tried to change you, you've been doing that all on your own..."
A cool breeze crept down his shirt collar, reminding him that he was stalking the streets and it was getting late. He realized that he hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings, and was surprised to find he was in her neighborhood...and was standing across the street from her home.
Stupid fucking subconscious!
He cursed his stupidity and made to turn and head back, but he caught a glimpse of her in her bedroom window.
He watched her undress and felt all the familiar stirrings at the sight of her beautiful body...
No, no, her hot body...hot and fuckable...
Somehow that correction didn't give him as much satisfaction as he'd thought it would.
She was dressed now, wearing her favorite T-shirt - the one her father had brought back from Barbados the year before he'd died. She held something in her hands.
He knew what it was, but pretended he didn't.
It was a pictured of the two of them, one taken in high school, junior year, back when their world had been carefree and uncomplicated, when their friendship hadn't been cluttered by romantic feelings or sex.
He watched as she looked down on their past and wiped a few tears from her checks.
He didn't care if she cried. She'd brought this on herself. He really DIDN'T care.
He expected her to launch the pictured across the room, or scream at it, or throw it out the window, but instead she shook her head sadly and traced the frame with her fingers.
Instinctually he knew what she was thinking. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, he'd known he for a very long time, and knew her better than he knew himself...a lot better...
She felt sorry for him.
"Keh! Fucking stupid bitch," he muttered and turned and walked away.
He left because he didn't care what she was doing, and he really didn't care what she was thinking...
Truthfully he walked away because he was running. He was running to catch up to the part of himself who REALLY didn't care.
He spent most of his life trying to catch up.
He was a chronic avoidee.
He became so used to lying to himself that he hardly ever recognized his true feelings.
He had a great sex life.
But he died alone.
Okay guys, I know, it's depressing and assaults all your sensibilities and love for our doggy- ear touting hanyou.
Truthfully, this is based on a story that I wrote a while ago inspired by a personal situation regarding the guy I was madly in love with in high school. I just found it and started to draw some character similarities, and thought that maybe I could make it work as a fic. It actually troubled me a lot to stick suck a horrible role on Inu's character, but I figured I'd try it anyway.
I understand if I get a comment or two about how OOC he is, or how horrible the premise of the story is, but please, this is based something pretty personal, so if any negative comments could be distributed professionally and respectfully it would be greatly appreciated.