Author's Note: Hm…I have nothing to say…crazy… (--grin--)
Drowning
It was over.
He took another deep pull from the jug in his hand, feeling the liquid burn its way down his throat and welcoming the sensation. Leaning back against the rough outer wall of the hut, he stretched his legs out in front of him and blinked lazily in the direction of the twilit forest some yards away.
He wouldn't go after her. He'd promised himself he wouldn't—he'd promised her. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but somehow he couldn't seem to recall any of the oh-so-important reasons why they had come to this conclusion. All he could think about was the way her scent still lingered around this place, and how it made him wish that it would just disappear and stay forever at the same time. He had to forget her—but he didn't want to. How do you forget a lost limb? How do you forget the only truly good thing you've ever had? How do you forget happiness? When all you've got in front of you is misery, the memory of happiness is only a taunt—but it was also the only thing he had left.
The drink had dulled his senses significantly, so at least he couldn't smell her quite as clearly anymore, and the pain seemed to have become somewhat less acute—like a dull ache all over, instead of a sharp spike right through the center of his chest. That was an improvement—but it also seemed to be dragging his thoughts down further and further into the dark abyss she'd left behind, where once he had possessed a heart.
See, there he went again…that "dark" thing could really sneak up on him sometimes…
Ah well—it was still better than the stabbing. He'd just keep drinking until the darkness got worse than the stabbing, and then he'd sober up and languish in harsh reality for awhile.
So this was what he had to look forward to? Vacillating between the lesser of two evils for the rest of his life? Sounded a lot like something he had done while she'd been there, except that had been the better of two goods…
Gods, he missed her…
His body was so numb and detached from his mind that he barely even registered that the side of his face was now pressed against the wooden boards that made up the floor of the porch. It was a marvelous thing, gravity. One minute it was there, the next—pfft. Gone. He couldn't even tell which way was up anymore. Not that he really cared.
His eyelids swept closed, and then open again, apparently of their own accord. There was a shape somewhere out there, like a tree, but shorter and moving. That was funny—when had the trees learned to walk? Kagome must have taught them. She was nice like that. He pulled the jug toward his face and whacked himself in the nose with it. Since the floorboards were in the way of getting it all the way to his mouth, he settled for dribbling a little of the liquid out of the opening of the jug and lapping it up as it passed.
When he moved the jug aside again, he noticed that the tree was getting closer—and it had grown legs. And it only seemed to have leaves around the middle.
His eyes were closed again, but they weren't opening this time. That was funny. Who'd designed these things anyway? Must be broken. Can't see anything with your eyes shut. Idiots.
He felt a gentle, warm object stroke his cheek—and then there was a voice, drifting in through the haze. "Inuyasha…"
He scrunched up his face—his nose itched. But the warmth against his face felt nice. "Mph…"
There was breath, and a heartbeat, and a scent, something that was as warm and welcome as the softness resting on his cheek. "Inuyasha, it's Kagome…"
"K'gome...K'gome's gone…" he mumbled. His tongue was really weird—it was all huge and lumpy, and it stuck to the inside of his mouth. Why hadn't he ever noticed that before? Crazy…
"She came back," the voice told him, and for some reason it made him think of a smile.
He liked that smile. It matched the scent. It was still dark in here with his eyes closed like this, but somehow it didn't seem as dark anymore with that scent to keep him company. "Good…"
A/N: I like this one… (--grin--)