Chapter 3

Kagome sighed and tried to bury her head in his collarbone, holding him tight, shielding herself from both the warm sunlight and the golden glow of his eyes. "How do you always know? I've been trying to figure out how to end this farce with him for months. Then it occurs to me that the one I truly want more than anything may not even exist and I feel foolish, like I'm letting a dream dictate my choices in life, but… Handsome-sama, you'll never guess what my Mama told me today. She has always told me stories of my father, since I remember so little of him as he died when I was young, but today…today she told me that she dreamt of him before she met him. Do you think that's possible? That you're really real and I'll get to meet you in person one day?"

"I know, as always, that it is possible. It is you who has retained doubts. Now, you insist on changing the subject. What has occurred? Has he finally harmed you?" He sniffed her hair and ran his hands over her shoulders and arms as if to detect injury.

"What? No! He hasn't hurt me—couldn't hurt me, he just, well, is overly obsessive and I think he's planning something terrible. I need to end things before he has the chance to do that so I can minimize his hurt," she said.

"Though you think it is impossible, you should understand, as I have told you before, that that kind of obsession is not caring, is not love, and easily and nearly always escalates into physical violence. When you terminate your relationship with him, you will do so either surrounded by your family or in public. You will promise now that you will do so." The Silver-Haired Man moved his right hand to her chin and lifted until she was looking up into his eyes. "You will promise."

She didn't even have to think about it. "I promise. I will finish it in the company of others. I will not be alone with him ever again and I will do my best never to see him again," she swore to him, her right hand over his heart, her eyes sincere.

He lowered his head again and pressed his warm mouth to hers, opening his mouth and licking her bottom lip before sucking it between his lips. He heard her soft moan and felt as her fingers dug into his shoulders, relishing her responsiveness. Even as he felt his ardor rise in reply, his delight in feeling her in his arms, he knew he could go no further with her. Though it was abusive and not by any means a real relationship, she was technically with another male, had even let him kiss her occasionally, which set his soul aflame with jealousy and rage at the wrongness of it. Still, he would not show this to her. It was in no way that he was hiding anything from her, rather that he did not want her overwhelmed with something so trivial when she was already so upset with events. So he reigned in his control and pulled away from his tenshi.

"Thank you, Kagome. This—I am pleased you understand how concerned I am for your well-being. It is difficult not being able to take care of this problem for you though it is because of your choices that it is not possible." He pulled away, taking her right hand in his left. "Come."

Kagome walked at his side through a section of dahlias and gladioli on the way to the large walking bridge, the dahlia of the orange-red Bishop of LLandoff variety was scattered throughout the Gladiolus Vista and Gladiolus Laurita varieties which featured lacy, vibrantly lilac edges with a pillow of white surrounding bright red centers and canary yellow laced edges with white centers respectively. The bridge spanned still, deeply blue water which was graced with plush water lilies near where the water met the verdant land. It was a carved, gently arched, stone bridge, made of a light stone and covered in a square fashion with spires and with broad, open, square sides at window height framed by intricately carved stone pillars.

Kagome was happy to be spending this time with him and the smile on her face, lightness of her step, and gentle swing of the arm with the hand clasped with her hero showed it. She knew where he was taking her: to the monopteros settled high on the hill on the bank opposite. Inside the tall, pillared, Grecian structure was a large chaise on which the two frequently cuddled and she was delighted to have that opportunity today even though she had a feeling the conversation would be more of a serious nature and less of a sentimental one.

He was right: it had been over a week since their last encounter. She wished she knew what controlled her time with him so she could be with him every night—for that matter, she wished he would tell her about himself. If her mother's situation was in any way like hers, there may be some hope of meeting him in person. She would do anything for that to happen, go anywhere, but he wouldn't tell her his name or where he was from. What was up with that? She had told him her name, her address, even her phone number. What was he hiding? And why? He cared for her, that much was obvious and she knew in her heart that he would never play her false—after all, he was so guarded with his emotions in his pursuit of self-control and their relationship had been a slow-building one. He had actually seemed rather suspicious and remained aloof for quite awhile and she'd been put off by his attitude before they developed a kind of bantering camaraderie which blossomed into attraction and affection and now into this restrained ardor. Once Hojo was out of the picture she wondered if things would become more physical with her love or if he waited until they were face to face.

She had a feeling he was in some Western country because of the English garden. She had never heard of one in Japan. He had admitted that this was his garden, so it gave her some idea. She had a tidy income now that she had gotten the advance on her first novel and so travel to the other side of the planet would be no problem at all money-wise, though, admittedly, she had very little experience travelling and had been away from her family but rarely and then only briefly. He obviously was well settled wherever he lived. If they did get to meet and even more wonderful, if things worked out between them, she could see herself moving to be with him and she had to admit to a certain amount of anxiety when she thought of being so far from family who had been almost her whole world. 'But,' she thought, 'one of my heroines would do anything to be with the man she loved.' And so, as she liked to imagine she based them on herself, she would do no less.

They reached the temple and he led her inside to the chaise. He threw his leg over the seat and straddled it before leaning his back against the cushion. Lifting his arm in invitation, Kagome knew exactly what to do from the months of snuggling together and sat between his legs, leaning her back to his front and crossing her long legs out in front of her on the seat. His arms wrapped around her middle and she settled hers on top of his, holding his hands. He nuzzled the side of her head and she leaned into him with a sweet smile on her lips. He may be reserved in his facial expressions and formal in his speech, but there was no denying his affectionate nature though she never would have guessed it from the man she had first met here in her dreams. This was exactly the position she discussed her story ideas with him and he gave her his truly masterful advice. She had often wondered if he was a writer as well.

He squeezed her tight before opening with his concern, "Why is it so hard to believe in me, in us, Kagome?"

She lowered her head in shame and worried her lips. "It's just…who ever heard of something like this? I mean, at least, until my mother told me her story today. I started to dream of you when they were drugging me to make me sleep. That just doesn't sound healthy."

"And are you still taking these medications?" he asked.

"Well…no."

"So, perhaps one might suppose that the dreams came about based on your maturing body and mind as they also began for your mother during adolescence?" he speculated.

Kagome was quiet for a moment. "Umm…that would be a reasonable conclusion…"

"Why do you suppose there are nights we do not see each other?" he probed.

She leaned her head to the right in thought and mulled. There was an idea in her head but it seemed even less believable than having a real life relationship with someone you'd known for years in a dream. She thought of the last 7 months and realized she had seen her beloved far less in this time, and long ago she had realized that she almost always saw him on the days she wrote. What was different about the last 7 months? Hojo, of course, but more than that was the reason for accepting Hojo in the first place: she had given up on experiencing real life romance, given up on having something like her Silver-Haired Man, more than that: she had given up on him. Could that be? Could faith in her beloved really be the key to having him in her life?

Suspicion furrowed her brow. "Do you know why there are nights we don't see each other?"

"You were asked what you think, tenshi."

Despite her thoughts she smiled when she heard him utter the pet name he had for her. He used it but rarely and unfortunately knew well the effect it had on her. She wasn't so naïve she couldn't notice a diversion tactic when she saw one. Her beautiful man definitely had a thing about being in control. He had asked her a question and he would not let her change the subject. She sighed in resignation. She had to try. "Alright. So…the only thing I can think of I'm not even sure if it's possible, but since making the impossible possible is not as impossible as it used to be…I have noticed I almost always see you on the nights I write. And on the nights I write, I have faith in you, in us, because, well, as you know, that's pretty much all I write about. And in the time since I mostly gave up on having what we share here or even something like it in real life, there have been a lot more days between writing days where I don't get to see you. So, long answer short: I think it has to do with belief."

Instead of confirming her theory as she hoped he might do, he replied, "You should test your hypothesis."

'What is this, a lecture on the Scientific Method?' she grumbled to herself. Kagome pursed her lips into a pout and narrowed her eyes before rolling them and letting it go with a sigh. "I think I'll do just that. What do I have to lose?" she said as squeezed his hands lovingly with a small smile of hope.

….

A/N: Tenshi means "angel."