I do not own Inuyasha or its characters, and no money was made off this story.
"That doesn't matter now," he said, shifting himself to be nearer. His snowy white hair fell over one shoulder and tickled her leg. His eyes stared into hers, but she pretended not to see. Until her chin was being forced up, and she could no longer avoid him. "What does this mean now?"
No answer came. No one knew what it meant. Not the old, wise woman in the village so close, nor the small children beginning to grow into the new age. Filling the holes.
"Do you think… that love has a life of its own?"
The other was confused, and moved away. The tickle stopped. "What do you mean?"
"I mean… it seems to, at least. It tricks you and makes you do things you never would otherwise. It makes you stupid, and it makes you irrational."
Instead of answering, he took his turn to look away. "Why are you asking me?"
"Why won't you answer me?"
Silence began. It swelled, twisted, and crushed until all the breathable air was gone. And then it was popped, with movement. She turned to him, a man defeated, injured, and leaned close. He was a soft relief to the coldness she would sleep on. "It's okay," she breathed. His heart was beating hard but not fast, thump-thumping against his chest at the usual even rhythm. "I have been thinking I might stay here." He turned as much as he could to her, looking her dead on at the roots. Her head shifted as well so her eyes could meet his chin. "Really?" he asked, the question ringing more than one bell in her head. "Yeah. I am used to it here. And I could finally learn to garden, I've always wanted to…."
He turned back to face the opposing wall, blank. Hard, and cold. "You know I would love for you to stay with me. But you have a life already. Your job here is done, I don't want you to feel obligated to stay with me."
His outburst was not sudden, but rose and grew slightly with each breath. His words were not fueled with hate but guilt. They were weighed by deep, deep regret, slinking out his mouth unevenly like a snake from a watery grave. By the end, he was flinching from her; she could see it pained to tell the truth. "I know that. But I'm not obligated. I've flunked out of high school for my 'job' here, and my life back there is turning to shit."
She pulled her legs up to her chest and hung her head, shameful. She had meant to do those things, he knew it. And for him. But somehow, he felt he was forcing her into a life she was not meant to lead. "I don't want you here," he finally whispered, his anger consuming until it was all he could muster. It was anger for himself, for his future, and her future. No one could seem to find out what to do once it was all done. Friends were gone now, growing roots in near lands; all that was left was the village they so often stayed with, and the trees, and life surrounding it. But nothing else was the same. Nothing else would ever be the same.
"Really?" she asked, striking the same pitch as his before. Disbelief, confused and just a little hurt. Not knowing what to do. She moved to be opposite him, right at the spot he had been staring at, and asked again. This time, he looked up and oozed venom out his irises. And she ran from them, scared they would find her bones, so brittle and snap them to pieces. She ran with those bones, out the thatched door and into the fading light of the sun. She had no tears sting her face, or curses bubble up behind her; there was only running, running and wishing to never find what she was looking for. The journey was the life, and when she found what she sought after, was death. Death of herself, a whole half of her that was rapidly fading. Spending her energy felt so good; but she would get tired. And then she would be forced to rest, and think, and weep.
Her destination came oh so quickly, the wood reaching her fingertips so familiar. It was pliable, and warm, she found it a suitable perch to rest her head for at least a few hours. Home was not any longer a home, but a destination that she knew by heart. It held fond memories, but those were fading. Old. And now she was new, ready to be born unto the new world in which she was so desperate to live. Relief flushed her cheeks when not a sound, beside that of the chirping nightingales, reached her ears. The last thing that she wanted was any support.
As she thunk of herself, her life, and those lives she had touched, she cried. She cried loud and hard and did not worry of being pitied. Her face fell into the ground, its sturdy chest taking her in and coaxing her to tell all her secrets to it. Her body was doubled over and face molded into the very heart of the earth for some time, in the shadow of the very portal to her old life. Her body shook and trembled, and startling gasps escaped now and again. But as darkness crept more and more over her, blanketing her body in coolness, she slowly stopped quivering until she was just slowly breathing in the musk of greenery. She was tired, but did not want to sleep. Her body ached from being in such a position, protecting her heart from the nightingales around her, and she slowly stood- before sinking down onto the sturdy edge of wood she was so fond of. A sparkle just beyond her sight caught her eye.
It was silver. Manes, and manes of silver. Up in a tree, almost concealed by leaves, but still not quite out of sight. She was ready now.
His footsteps came slowly, as if encroaching on some untouched, virgin land. She did not move when he sat corner to her, and threw a draped arm over her shoulder. He tugged her closer until she was molded to him. "How long have you been there?" she asked quietly, her voice harsh from screaming into the dirt. "The whole time. I didn't think I should bother you," he replied, equally quiet. She put her face in his chest like she had the earth, finding she had more tears that she thought. "Why?" she asked. "Why do you want me to leave?"
He sighed. "I don't. I just want you to live the life you were meant to live, not some boring life in this barbaric age. You would regret it eventually, and I don't want that."
"How do you know?"
He shrugged. "Listen, can we talk back at the hut?" he asked, referring to the two-roomed abode they had been staying in for not long after the end. She had to admit that it was cozier and warmer there, and now she wanted to sleep. So she nodded and gingerly hopped onto his back, so comfortable, and waited for the rushing wind to stop skidding across the top of her head.
When they got inside, he sat down next to her on their futons. "You can stay if that's what you really want. I just worry about you. I don't want you to be unhappy," he said. Watching her cry for such a long time had switched a flip inside him, and he learned what he meant to her. "I do," she responded. "I've been thinking about it for a while. Before everything even ended." Her face turned to his, and was nearer than she had expected. Closer, and closer, and he was leaning in until their lips met in a spark of newness they had not experienced before.
"Would you stay with me?" he asked breathily, breaking the kiss. She nodded with heavy lids, and this time he returned to her with aplomb. He slanted his lips over hers slowly, taking care to not bruise her tender lips. His hands held her face with the endearing feel of a lover. She relaxed and was helpless to him, opening her mouth only slightly so that he could venture his tongue into her. They shimmied and danced until heat flooding from her heart went down, and settled low in her stomach with a comfortable beating. Then she broke away, her face still within his hands. Her cheeks had flushed a delicate pink, and her wind-tousled hair made her look more like a woman than a maiden.
She reached up and touched his hands, gently removing them before standing and extinguishing all but one lamp from the room. He looked at her with curiosity. They had been so far but never further, never crossing the boundaries into unknown territory. It was dangerous places she intended to play in; but with her alongside him, he could be ready. As long as it was her.
When she came back though, she looked meek, and scared. She seemed very determined to do something that night, but didn't quite know how to go about it. He tried to ease her by placing more gentle kisses along her neck, jaw, and forehead, and then placed his lips back to hers. Kissing more tenderly than before, he waited until she was more relaxed, and broke off first. He looked down to avoid her questioning look, and slipped his finger under the knot containing his upper portion. It slid into looseness, and his shirt became slack. After pulling it off himself he looked back at her in the exceedingly soft light. She looked like a true angel, waiting to be loved like no man could love her besides him. Until she flashed a look downward, to what he had done, and shied yet again.
He decided this time to speak to her, and leaned forward to hug her body close to his. While his lips were close to her ear, he whispered, "We can go as far as you want to. I'm not going to force anything you don't want to do yet." He placed a kiss behind her ear for good measure.
This seemed to ease her a bit. She pushed him just enough off her to make for another kiss, while her hands went to undoing the kerchief at her neck. She broke to slip the shirt from her body, but blushing uneasily, went back in before he could look at her. She was fumbling with the clasps at her back when he held her face yet again and pulled her closer. This gave her the nerve to tenderly slip the thin strips from her shoulders, and hold him completely, so that their two chests were meshed together. He sighed a rumbling, deep sigh that trickled out bits of his desire for her. He could not believe how soft she was; and yet how firm, and completely real. He never wanted to lose her again.
With this thought he went to the tie at his waist. The bulge he had was now pronounced and large against the light fabric at his hip, but he avoided drawing attention to it, wishing not to frighten his angel away. The tie came loose and so did his pants, and he finally broke off their kiss yet again to slip the last bit of clothing from himself. She tried not to look but could not resist; and found herself gaping at the object in front of her, sensual and yet alien. He looked intently at her, trying to gauge her reaction. Satisfied that she would not bolt from him again, he put his hands on her waist, slipping his fingers under the elastic band that held her composure in place. She started to shake, fearing his promise may not be kept. She knew there would be no one to help her if he went beyond her comfort, no one stupid or near enough to even think of investigating. But he looked at her with an intensity she had not ever seen before, and spoke again, reading her fears. "I would never hurt you."
Those were the only words she needed to hear, and she helped him to slide the earthy green skirt from her hips, underclothes and all. They then both sat back to look at each other, equally astounded by the sight. He etched her figure into his memory, not ever wanting to forget it. The dimples across her body, the swells and valleys, everything was perfectly placed. He longed to kiss each and every part of her, to make her his.
She had seen his chest before, but it was a completely different sight when no other clothes were there as well to lighten the image. In the dim light she could see a few light scars scattering across his chest, and some she could even name off the attacker; and she leaned in to kiss each one oh so lightly, until reaching his face yet again. As they kissed, he slid her down into the feathery blanket under them until he was resting the bulk of his weight onto her. She felt his manhood pressing into her fleshy thigh, pushing in and out with a rhythm she suspected he was not entirely aware of. His breaths came heavier now, and she found herself pushing just a little back into him, loving the hypnotic dance they were locked in. Until he leaned to one side and slipped a hand between them, finding the wetness of her soon and exploring until he found the spot that made her go stiff, then lax.
He placed the pads of two of his fingers there, and moved slowly, sensually until she was whimpering under him. Her hands found his hair and face, and tugged him down into a smoldering kiss that almost ignited his very heart. As his hand went around, circling the pleasure spot, he noticed her becoming more and more damp. His fingers slid along her entrance, earning a hitch in breathing from his delicious vixen. He cautiously placed one digit inside of her, slowly, carefully. She was so tight; he could hardly believe she might stand his entire member, and yet she purred with delight, coaxing him to push in and out while his thumb continued the ministrations where his fingers just were. He added one more digit after some time, but this time she did not purr. She cried out, the sounds of utter satisfaction reaching his ears as a melody he need only hear once to decipher the meaning.
He went a little faster, a little deeper, and her moans reflected his every movement. It was driving him mad to use only his fingers to do what he fully wanted to do to her, with her; but he continued until her hips were bucking into his hand in a manner that was not to be ignored. He removed his hand from her and observing the wetness, proceeded to lick it off himself, which was greeted with an even deeper blush he could have sworn was not possible. But they were beyond words now; all their communication need be was look, and touch. He nudged her oh-so-soft legs apart, watching her face for signs of discomfort. But she was content now to let him do so, and when he placed the tip of his member against her, they looked up at one another, asking the same question. He rubbed himself up and down her slit, reveling in the feel, wanting to extend the moment. She kissed him as he leaned down onto her, and he slowly pushed his way further.
Her moan was caught against his lips, that of terror, excitement, and desire as one. He was not far in, but he broke the kiss to look at her for just a moment- confirming that she was unharmed- before thrusting the rest of himself into her wetness. He again could not believe the tightness; he fully believed that moving at all must hurt her, but he did not smell any pain on her and so kissed her again before deciding to move any further.
She felt so utterly filled, stretched but not torn, and took but a moment to adjust to his girth. She kissed him with force, hoping to erase every past mistake and fight until all they were was here, together. She felt him tenderly move against her, she slowly moved her hips in the same way, earning a pained grunt from him. She looked up, waiting to see him angry or upset; but his face was only pained by the pleasure of their lovemaking, of the restraint he held himself to so that she could enjoy every last moment. But she found herself not at all wanting him to hold back; she wanted every bit of him, wild and passionate, until they screamed out each others' names to heaven itself.
So she wrapped her slender legs around his waist carefully, and dug in to his lower back just a bit. He immediately took the hint and dove deeper, and when she relaxed her muscles, so did he. They were soon plunging faster and faster into their love, each of their sobs being caught by the other in a fumbled kiss. He kept going into her at a rhythmic pace, nearing his completion. But he stopped himself soon and slowed; he did not want this night to end so soon.
Taking but a moment to breathe, he slid himself from her and sat up straight. He pulled her along as well, and was pleased to find that she was willing to go wherever he was to take her, face fully flushed and hair a-tumble. He sat against the wall where she had just been, and guided her to sit on his lap, sliding his member in with ease as she reveled at the new feel. They held each other as they began again to rock back and forth, matching tempos effortlessly. He placed his hands on her hips as she slid her arms around his neck, and he helped her up and down each time while pushing himself back up to meet her again. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, lavishing it wish kisses over and over, until he heard her cry out his name in a wave of ecstasy. He could feel her walls squeeze around him and groaned her name back, finally releasing his seed into the deepest parts of her while thrusting with a wild pace that could have driven her mad. The tides of rapture enfolded his entire body, and he closed his eyes before biting deep and hard into the crook of her neck where he was so recently licking and kissing.
He felt her breath on his ear. They stayed locked in their embrace until even after the last rush of heat flushed to their most intimate areas, neither much inclined to move and shatter the perfect image. But at once, they slowly moved their heads and looked at one another, nose to nose. They shared one last kiss; tender, explaining all the love they had that didn't have the time to be explained. It showed the love that had taken place when they first met; the love they now shared; and the hurt in between that only made it stronger.
Once they had finished, he slid himself from her and let her rest in the crook of his arm. He played with her hair idly with one hand, not quite able yet to conceive intelligent thoughts. After some time lost in his own mind, he realized that she had fallen asleep where she was curled in his arms. He slowly moved her to her futon, now sidled alongside his, and he slid under the covers after her. Her head instinctively rested on his muscled arm, and he guided her rump to his satisfied member, hoping with great earnest that no one wakens them before they had time to wake up together in the morning, the morning of the new age.
Thanks for reading. Reviews welcome.