A/N: And now things get even -more- interesting. Enjoy the drama ^.^ I'm having too much fun writing it. As always, I love my reviewers *hugs* makes things fun.
Major warning: Not to give the plot away, but Hojo/Kagome haters are gonna HATE this chapter. Again, I ask for patience ^.^
***
After the bath, Kagome pulled her scrubbiest, comfiest clothes on. Old, pink, cat-print pajama pants wearing threadbare at the hem, her house slippers, and a black t-shirt washed to dull gray did much to relax her. The bath had steamed away the stress in her muscles, and these old clothes exuded the sweet aura of home. She made her way downstairs to the kitchen. There, her tired senses were assaulted with the forceful euphoria of baking cookies and a handsome fir just begging to be adorned with ornaments and tinsel. Souta was busy opening boxes of decorations with a pair of safety scissors, futilely jabbing at the movers' tape with dulled blades.
"Want help?" she asked, smiling at his struggles. He really was adorable sometimes.
He glanced up and set his jaw so that the muscles by his temples clenched. "I can do it myself."
"Okay. Then I'll go and put the wreath out front. If that's alright with you."
Souta grunted, absorbed in his own task.
Kagome picked up the wreath and examined it. Faux holly, berries, and pine fronds twisted aesthetically into a perfect loop as if nature had intended it to be so. No false frost clung in glue beads to this craft, and the berries had lost their varnish over the years. It still smelled faintly of popcorn from an explosion years prior. She smiled and went to hang it outside the door.
"Oh!" Kagome ducked to avoid being knocked in the face and found herself eye-to-eye with Hojo.
He blushed sheepishly. "Sorry, Kagome, I didn't think you'd open the door that fast." And she smiled with him.
She caught herself and hurriedly began fixing the wreath to the door, if only to focus her eyes somewhere else. "So, what brings you to the shrine?"
Hojo shrugged. "It's a few days before Christmas, I know. But, well, I couldn't wait."
Kagome paused. "Hm?" Hojo's eyes sparkled at her, open and hopeful. He pulled his hand from his jacket pocket and showed her the prize shielded by his fingers.
"I want you to have it."
Speechless, Kagome unwrapped the small box. She knew what was coming before she had even taken the parcel into her hands, but she still gasped as the ring met her eyes. It was a sweet, simple gold band with a single, red stone imbedded in the metal. "Hojo, oh..." Kagome stared at it, her mind racing. "I...I can't accept this. Hojo, I didn't even get you anything and..."
He hushed her. "That wasn't the point, Kagome."
She fought for a rational topic. "But it must have been so expensive!" she blurted before realizing the words had left her mouth.
Hojo laughed. "If it makes you feel better, it's a zinc base with gold foil and the ruby is glass." His next step took him further into Kagome's personal space than she had expected, so that his forehead almost touched hers as they both looked down to her hands. "But hey, it's the thought that counts, right?"
She laughed a little, at once enthralled and enamored. In a word, senseless. "Right. Except, well," she blushed and closed the box, wrapping her hands about it, "sometimes I think too much."
Kagome didn't know what she would have done had Hojo taken the hint. Had he brushed his mouth against hers, tasting of mouthwash and lip balm and cold air. Had he not understood her so well. As it was, he smiled, gently trailed the fingers of one hand down the side of her face, and left her waiting.
"See you in a few days, Kagome. Merry Christmas."
And she stood by the wreath that smelled of burned popcorn with a false-gold ring in her hands, and silently watched him go.
*
She secreted the box to her bedroom and left it on her bed, unable to look at the ring inside. The symbolism of it was too much to bear.
She decorated the tree with Souta, putting on her best face. She laughed often and joked with him, hanging ornaments from her ears as earrings to pose for pictures he wanted to take. Kagome took him into her arms and held him high so he could balance the blue-lace angel at the very top and collapsed with him on the floor when he lost balance. The cat didn't even glance their way, and that was more welcoming than a purr.
But in the back of her mind, Kagome was frantic. To accept this gift from a boy she hardly knew felt wrong. She didn't want to lead Hojo on when she was sure she did not find herself attracted to him. But her fluttering heart argued to the contrary. He flattered her, catered to her, and genuinely seemed to appreciate her. All of her. He constantly showed her his respect and manners, although sometimes he slipped and bluntness broke through the sheen. Kagome found herself smiling affectionately at the thought. And she stopped in her tracks, eliciting a wry question from her younger brother as the power of epiphany took precedence over rational functioning.
There are times when guilt and obligation lead one to believe one is in love. A conscience is a terrible thing to have when it comes to the heart and the preservation thereof. In this, all are suicidal. True to conscience, Kagome found a like growing for Hojo that extended beyond the bonds of friendship. Here was a boy she could make happy, that already wanted her, that already accepted her. It would be so sweet to accept him and just be done with the frustration. It would be so sweet to sink into him without having to fight for it. It would be so sweet to forget her deep-seated desires and learn to love Hojo in some mockery of the love she knew.
But the love she knew seized the smallest, most vital point of her and gripped tightly through the haze of conscience, biding its time for the perfect moment to flare.
*
Meanwhile...
*
"Why didn't you go after her?" Shippou asked for the umpteenth time, his teeth clenched in anger.
Inuyasha snapped, "What would it do if I had? Huh? You think she really wanted to see me after that? There's no way I can fix it."
Miroku opened one eye, breaking the silence he had kept since Kagome left. "Sounds like you don't want to."
Inuyasha gaped at him. "I do!"
"Well, then..." Miroku trailed off, giving the hanyou a look that implied 'continue-on-your-own-terms.'
Inuyasha frowned. "Well, then what? You want some godsdamn' cheesy, happy ending? News flash: I don't have one to pull out of my ass."
"She's not expecting one," Sango murmured from her seat next to Miroku. Leaning together against one wall of Kaede's hut, their eyes half-closed in bored meditation, they looked like a set of matching figurines. "She never asked for one. And she knows she'd never get it from you." Her eyes opened and fixed him with an accusing stare.
"Oh, so this is my fault now?" Inuyasha snarled, his muscles tensing. "It was -her- stupid confession; I just happened to overhear it! And I wasn't -not- going to tell her."
"You can tell he's riled because his grammar's going," Miroku murmured.
Inuyasha rose to his knees, leaning menacingly over Miroku. "Don't. Ridicule. Me," he growled through bared fangs. "You sit there like you know every damn' thing there is but a hell of a lot is slipping by you, monk."
"You're one to talk," Sango interjected, not liking the way Inuyasha's debasements were headed. "You're hanyou. You should have -smelled- it on her," she sneered.
And, completely contrary to the fight that would release their tensions, dissolve their senses, and coat the hut in blood and guilt, Inuyasha stopped. He sat back on his feet and stared down at his hands. His eyes were shaded by the fall of his hair, so that his face was mostly hidden from view. And the words that issued from his mouth almost didn't touch the air at all.
"I did."
Major warning: Not to give the plot away, but Hojo/Kagome haters are gonna HATE this chapter. Again, I ask for patience ^.^
***
After the bath, Kagome pulled her scrubbiest, comfiest clothes on. Old, pink, cat-print pajama pants wearing threadbare at the hem, her house slippers, and a black t-shirt washed to dull gray did much to relax her. The bath had steamed away the stress in her muscles, and these old clothes exuded the sweet aura of home. She made her way downstairs to the kitchen. There, her tired senses were assaulted with the forceful euphoria of baking cookies and a handsome fir just begging to be adorned with ornaments and tinsel. Souta was busy opening boxes of decorations with a pair of safety scissors, futilely jabbing at the movers' tape with dulled blades.
"Want help?" she asked, smiling at his struggles. He really was adorable sometimes.
He glanced up and set his jaw so that the muscles by his temples clenched. "I can do it myself."
"Okay. Then I'll go and put the wreath out front. If that's alright with you."
Souta grunted, absorbed in his own task.
Kagome picked up the wreath and examined it. Faux holly, berries, and pine fronds twisted aesthetically into a perfect loop as if nature had intended it to be so. No false frost clung in glue beads to this craft, and the berries had lost their varnish over the years. It still smelled faintly of popcorn from an explosion years prior. She smiled and went to hang it outside the door.
"Oh!" Kagome ducked to avoid being knocked in the face and found herself eye-to-eye with Hojo.
He blushed sheepishly. "Sorry, Kagome, I didn't think you'd open the door that fast." And she smiled with him.
She caught herself and hurriedly began fixing the wreath to the door, if only to focus her eyes somewhere else. "So, what brings you to the shrine?"
Hojo shrugged. "It's a few days before Christmas, I know. But, well, I couldn't wait."
Kagome paused. "Hm?" Hojo's eyes sparkled at her, open and hopeful. He pulled his hand from his jacket pocket and showed her the prize shielded by his fingers.
"I want you to have it."
Speechless, Kagome unwrapped the small box. She knew what was coming before she had even taken the parcel into her hands, but she still gasped as the ring met her eyes. It was a sweet, simple gold band with a single, red stone imbedded in the metal. "Hojo, oh..." Kagome stared at it, her mind racing. "I...I can't accept this. Hojo, I didn't even get you anything and..."
He hushed her. "That wasn't the point, Kagome."
She fought for a rational topic. "But it must have been so expensive!" she blurted before realizing the words had left her mouth.
Hojo laughed. "If it makes you feel better, it's a zinc base with gold foil and the ruby is glass." His next step took him further into Kagome's personal space than she had expected, so that his forehead almost touched hers as they both looked down to her hands. "But hey, it's the thought that counts, right?"
She laughed a little, at once enthralled and enamored. In a word, senseless. "Right. Except, well," she blushed and closed the box, wrapping her hands about it, "sometimes I think too much."
Kagome didn't know what she would have done had Hojo taken the hint. Had he brushed his mouth against hers, tasting of mouthwash and lip balm and cold air. Had he not understood her so well. As it was, he smiled, gently trailed the fingers of one hand down the side of her face, and left her waiting.
"See you in a few days, Kagome. Merry Christmas."
And she stood by the wreath that smelled of burned popcorn with a false-gold ring in her hands, and silently watched him go.
*
She secreted the box to her bedroom and left it on her bed, unable to look at the ring inside. The symbolism of it was too much to bear.
She decorated the tree with Souta, putting on her best face. She laughed often and joked with him, hanging ornaments from her ears as earrings to pose for pictures he wanted to take. Kagome took him into her arms and held him high so he could balance the blue-lace angel at the very top and collapsed with him on the floor when he lost balance. The cat didn't even glance their way, and that was more welcoming than a purr.
But in the back of her mind, Kagome was frantic. To accept this gift from a boy she hardly knew felt wrong. She didn't want to lead Hojo on when she was sure she did not find herself attracted to him. But her fluttering heart argued to the contrary. He flattered her, catered to her, and genuinely seemed to appreciate her. All of her. He constantly showed her his respect and manners, although sometimes he slipped and bluntness broke through the sheen. Kagome found herself smiling affectionately at the thought. And she stopped in her tracks, eliciting a wry question from her younger brother as the power of epiphany took precedence over rational functioning.
There are times when guilt and obligation lead one to believe one is in love. A conscience is a terrible thing to have when it comes to the heart and the preservation thereof. In this, all are suicidal. True to conscience, Kagome found a like growing for Hojo that extended beyond the bonds of friendship. Here was a boy she could make happy, that already wanted her, that already accepted her. It would be so sweet to accept him and just be done with the frustration. It would be so sweet to sink into him without having to fight for it. It would be so sweet to forget her deep-seated desires and learn to love Hojo in some mockery of the love she knew.
But the love she knew seized the smallest, most vital point of her and gripped tightly through the haze of conscience, biding its time for the perfect moment to flare.
*
Meanwhile...
*
"Why didn't you go after her?" Shippou asked for the umpteenth time, his teeth clenched in anger.
Inuyasha snapped, "What would it do if I had? Huh? You think she really wanted to see me after that? There's no way I can fix it."
Miroku opened one eye, breaking the silence he had kept since Kagome left. "Sounds like you don't want to."
Inuyasha gaped at him. "I do!"
"Well, then..." Miroku trailed off, giving the hanyou a look that implied 'continue-on-your-own-terms.'
Inuyasha frowned. "Well, then what? You want some godsdamn' cheesy, happy ending? News flash: I don't have one to pull out of my ass."
"She's not expecting one," Sango murmured from her seat next to Miroku. Leaning together against one wall of Kaede's hut, their eyes half-closed in bored meditation, they looked like a set of matching figurines. "She never asked for one. And she knows she'd never get it from you." Her eyes opened and fixed him with an accusing stare.
"Oh, so this is my fault now?" Inuyasha snarled, his muscles tensing. "It was -her- stupid confession; I just happened to overhear it! And I wasn't -not- going to tell her."
"You can tell he's riled because his grammar's going," Miroku murmured.
Inuyasha rose to his knees, leaning menacingly over Miroku. "Don't. Ridicule. Me," he growled through bared fangs. "You sit there like you know every damn' thing there is but a hell of a lot is slipping by you, monk."
"You're one to talk," Sango interjected, not liking the way Inuyasha's debasements were headed. "You're hanyou. You should have -smelled- it on her," she sneered.
And, completely contrary to the fight that would release their tensions, dissolve their senses, and coat the hut in blood and guilt, Inuyasha stopped. He sat back on his feet and stared down at his hands. His eyes were shaded by the fall of his hair, so that his face was mostly hidden from view. And the words that issued from his mouth almost didn't touch the air at all.
"I did."
