Chapter Four:
Sesshoumaru stared grumpily at the man sprawled on the sidewalk ten stories down. He glared down at the reckless thug whom had moments before thought the world was in his grimy hands. The wild-haired Onigumo had Naraku's arrogance, his crassness, his cunning, but he lacked what set apart Naraku from the human he was born as: his mortality. In the end Onigumo was just a man like any other - very fragile and very much mortal. It was his downfall, Sesshoumaru thought, with a hint of wry jest.
Sesshoumaru, having taken his time to toy with the kill, had failed to notice that Kikyou had become free of her bonds. At the precise moment that she had emerged from the room, Onigumo had had the misfortune to be situated precisely in front of Kikyou's open window. Like Sesshoumaru, Onigumo had also missed Kikyou's entrance, and the girl, misjudging Sesshoumaru's prolonging as struggle, charged at Onigumo with all the strength she could muster.
Kikyou, being of an average height and of a slender build, normally would not have been able to push a tall, well-built man out of a window, but out of sheer luck, the girl had caught him completely off guard.
And that was how Onigumo had ended up falling ten stories down. Yet, the man miraculously survived. "You bitch." Sesshoumaru had caught Onigumo mutter; his voice strained, the blood in his mouth gurgling at the back of his throat. "Mine…" Sesshoumaru heard the vile criminal whisper, and he fought the overwhelming urge to jump down there and rip out his innards. But instead he turned to Kikyou, who wore an expression of shock mixed with fury as she slumped to the floor.
"Here they are!" Kaede's panicked voice interrupted Sesshoumaru's thought process. The little girl was at the door with a flurry of civilians (whom he presumed were residents of the apartment building) and policemen behind her. His hopes of ending the wretched Onigumo's pathetic life were then crushed, as the police wouldn't take the act of murder very kindly. He stared out the window, an almost imperceptible scowl marring his usually placid face.
"Sir. I am Chief Yagami. Would you come with us? We need to ask some questions." A police officer, an older man in his forties, asked. The demon inwardly sighed, cursing human custom again but not wishing to cause unnecessary hassle for himself, the former demon lord complied with a curt nod.
"Miss, are you okay? We'll get the paramedics up here." Sesshoumaru turned his attention to Kikyou, who stood a few feet away from him, blood trickling down her brow, as she stared blankly at the floor, probably thinking she had just killed a man. Sesshoumaru thought it foolish for the girl to be upset – even if she had killed him; it was a justifiable homicide, and the cunt that had dared touch her deserved death and more.
"I'm fine," Kikyou answered, despite the oozing crimson blood that stained her countenance. The paramedics eventually came up anyway to take Kikyou off in an ambulance, against her will.
With the help of Kaede, Sesshoumaru was swiftly cleared of any suspicion. "You knocked out two seasoned Yakuza thugs. That's impressive. You should join the police force." the same officer from before had suggested.
"No." Sesshoumaru had responded curtly with a characteristic scowl on his face.
"Th-Thank you, Sesshoumaru-san." Kaede had approached him later. The preteen was still trembling violently, rubbing at her sore wrists, looking up at him with her singular eye. Sesshoumaru almost felt pity. Almost. "If y-you hadn't c-come… I wouldn't have b-been able to c-call the police."
"Yes." Sesshoumaru acknowledged the girl's gratitude, not knowing what else to tell the broken girl.
It wasn't until the next morning that Sesshoumaru finally made his way to the hospital Kikyou had been taken to.
Sesshoumaru hated hospitals. He hated the smell, the false smiles of nurses, the sound of human grief. The scent of blood, of festering wounds, of unwashed humans, of death, filled his nostrils. He walked towards Kikyou's hospital room drenched in dread.
Sesshoumaru found Kikyou standing up beside the room window, her back to him. She wore a patterned blue hospital gown, the opening in the back revealing the curve of her back, the color of her underwear – plain black, no frills or lace. How typical, Sesshoumaru thought, with a hint of humor.
"You are well." Sesshoumaru announced his entrance. Kikyou flinched and spun around, unaware that anybody had entered. She crossed her arms over her chest, as if she stood before him naked, even though she was far from it.
"I shouldn't be here." Was her response, "I'm fine." She insisted, "It's just a scratch, Sesshoumaru, and yet they keep me here." The girl paced, her long black braid swished along with her stride.
"Stitches are not just a scratch." Sesshoumaru countered. The girl sighed in annoyance.
This Kikyou was not the hard-hearted, battle-hardened warrior priestess of legend, no, this Kikyou is just a girl, a girl untainted by blood.
"You almost killed a man." Sesshoumaru pointed out, no pretty words to disguise the incident. Kikyou averted her eyes.
"I did." Kikyou replied gingerly. Sesshoumaru heard her gulp, heard the fiddling of her hands in her lap.
"I will not sugar-coat the facts." Sesshoumaru admonished, as stern as a father, "I told you I do not spew out lies."
"No, you don't." She agreed, "He's paralyzed, I heard. He will never walk again. I might as well have killed him."
"Dead men can't talk, and Onigumo will. He may be useless, but –"
"He'll seek revenge." Kikyou finished. "Midoriko, Kaede…" She trailed off, "You."
"And you." Sesshoumaru added.
"I will never know peace." Kikyou sighed. "I've always wanted to be a doctor since I was a little girl. I've always wanted to help people, not hurt them," She paused, "And now I've gone and hurt a Yakuza thug. He may be powerless now, but he can still hurt me."
Sesshoumaru contemplated her words – she had the truth of it, as long as Onigumo lived, he would continue to haunt her. I should kill him, Sesshoumaru strategized; I could slip into his room unnoticed and snap his neck. But he realized it wouldn't solve Kikyou's problem – Onigumo had a mouth, and had probably informed his Yakuza cohorts of Kikyou. No, she was in deep trouble, the Yakuza would never forgive her for her affront. They would make her life miserable for as long as she lived.
"You need to leave." Sesshoumaru blurted, and Kikyou stared up at him with troubled, but knowing eyes – she had come to the same conclusion before him.
"But… what of school? My future? My family?" Kikyou asked, "And where would I go? I haven't the means." Sesshoumaru considered killing them all, killing all of the Yakuza so that Kikyou might live freely in her native country, but he knew it was an impossible task, even for a demon lord. There were too many maggots in the Yakuza; maggots that were not easy to track down.
"You could go to America," Sesshoumaru began, "You could live there." Sesshoumaru owned many properties in many countries, but he figured Kikyou knew at least some English – and nobody could deny that a college degree overseas, especially one from the United States, would be impressive.
"I could never afford it." Kikyou contested, humble as ever.
"You have no other options." Sesshoumaru rebutted.
"But what of my family?"
"We'll be fine." A third voice intruded. Midoriko entered, her dark eyes framed by dark circles. The few times Sesshoumaru had come across Kikyou's elder sister, she had always looked prim and done-up – her lips always tainted by lipstick, her eyes always tinged with subtle, but elegant make-up, no stray hair in sight, no wrinkle ever marred her tailored work clothes. But the Midoriko that appeared before him was bared of make-up, wore old jeans and a plain white t-shirt, and her hair was tucked back into a haphazard ponytail, her voluminous locks threatening to spill from their weak confines. But nevertheless, the woman was attractive. Sesshoumaru thought back to Kagome, his brother's wide-eyed vixen. She did not carry the grace or the elegance of the modern Higurashi sisters, but in retrospect, he realized that even his impudent "sister-in-law" had been gifted with good looks. (Although Sesshoumaru would say that both Kagome and Midoriko paled in comparison to Kikyou.)
"Sister, Sessh-" Kikyou began, but the elder sister didn't let her finish.
"I heard. And he is right." Midoriko agreed. Kikyou stared at her sister, dumbfounded, which was an expression atypical on the raven-haired know-it-all.
"Of course I am." Sesshoumaru stated haughtily.
"Quiet." Midoriko motioned with a finger, "and let me finish." Sesshoumaru scowled – he didn't appreciate Midoriko's scolding tone.
"You will never know peace here and the farther you are, the better." The elder sister explained as she neared the younger on the bed. "Kaede and I will be fine. We're moving to New York."
"W-What?" Kikyou stammered.
"I was offered a position at a company there. It's a higher position, and they're paying for me to move there." Midoriko offered a better explanation. "You, however, will apply to transfer to an American university. You could try that one you mentioned once – the one with the good medical program?"
"It's not in New York – it's in California."
"Then if you get accepted there, you go to California, I will help with whatever I can." Midoriko assured.
"Are you only taking Kaede with you? What of the rest of our family?" Kikyou queried, her expression concerned.
Sesshoumaru's interest piqued at the mention of "other family". Did she mean the old man that the vile Onigumo had referred to as her grandfather? Kikyou had only spoken to him of Midoriko and Kaede, but never anybody else.
"Grandfather won't leave the shrine, you know that. He's as stubborn as ever." Midoriko started, "And Onigumo never knew you had other family, correct? He wouldn't even suspect about brother. Besides, he's off in Hokkaido."
Kikyou was silent as she mulled over the information. The girl looked perfectly composed, but Sesshoumaru could hear the rapid thumping of a heart under duress, the unevenness of her short intakes of air.
"Sesshoumaru," Midoriko, for the first time since she had entered the hospital room, directed her attention to the silent sentinel looming over her sister, "would you give us a moment?" She asked, politely, as she sat by Kikyou on the bed.
Sesshoumaru did not bother to reply, he merely exited the room, leaving the two women to converse with each other as he waited outside.
"Did he hurt you…? Please tell me he didn't touch you." Sesshoumaru heard Midoroki begin to say. She had asked for privacy, but Sesshoumaru could not give it even if he had wanted to. He tuned their voices out as best as he could, instead honing in on the chatter of doctors, the clink of scalpels against metal trays, the wailing of hysterical mothers, the whirr of death.
"Sesshomaru," Midoriko's voice interrupted him a lot sooner than he thought it would, "I wanted to thank you." Sesshoumaru gave her an indifferent stare, "I have no idea why my sister is so smitten with you, but I can't deny that you must care for her, to risk your own life…"
Sesshoumaru thought of correcting her, but thought better of it. She didn't know he was a demon; that facing the thugs had never once been a life-threatening situation to him. But still, Sesshoumaru let his mind stray; it was not usual that he saved humans, especially not preteen brats and their elder sisters.
"What I mean to say, Sesshoumaru, is thank you." Midoriko finished. Sesshoumaru did not reply. Midoriko scowled at his lack of manners. "I will never get Kikyou's taste in men."
"You'd do well to learn some respect, Midoriko," Sesshoumaru finally humored the eldest Higurashi sister with a reply. "Were you never told to show respect to your superiors and your elders?"
"Fair enough, Sesshoumaru-san." Midoriko sighed in defeat. "Take care of my sister." The woman asked, genuinely, her distaste for the moment, gone. The woman padded away, her footfalls clacking against the white linoleum flooring, leaving Sesshoumaru alone to enter Kikyou's hospital room.
"Midoriko says I should stay at a hotel while I'm applying and waiting for colleges to reply." Kikyou spoke as soon as the door closed behind Sesshoumaru as he entered.
"You could do that." Sesshoumaru began, "Or you could stay with me. At my apartment. You would be safe."
"I couldn't. It's not right." Kikyou responded and Sesshoumaru's irritation stirred. Could she not see that the great Lord Sesshoumaru was offering a very rare helping hand?
"You prudish fool. Who saved you when that disgusting Onigumo cornered you?" Sesshoumaru reminded the youth frowning at him from the blue hospital bed. He had gathered from the time they had spent together that the girl liked to consider herself self-sufficient – she did not like to depend on anybody. But she needed him, for who else could keep the Yakuza thugs from coming after her but him? This Kikyou was but a girl, but she thought herself to be the legendary warrior priestess of old. Sesshoumaru scoffed.
Kikyou had of course refused, like she was wont to do every time someone tried to bestow her with some sort of kindness. Not that Sesshoumaru was showing her any kindness, he told himself; no, he was just offering her sense. But after being let out of the hospital and assessing her upcoming budget, the girl thought twice and very reluctantly accepted Sesshoumaru's invitation into his home.
"It's only until I decide where to move to." Kikyou had said.
From then on, Kikyou remained in his apartment. As per Midoriko's advice (because if it had just been Sesshoumaru's suggestion, it would have been labeled "sexist"), Kikyou stayed indoors while Sesshoumaru left most of the day for his office where he "worked", if only to feign a sense of normalcy.
Four days later he found her seated upon his immaculate white couch, staring at the screen of her equally white laptop. Sesshoumaru thought it odd – Kikyou tended to be in his kitchen when he came back from his work, fixing herself and him a meal.
"I got accepted by both universities." Kikyou informed, her long tresses tied off to one side, the inky black hair spilling over her left shoulder and staining the pearl color of Kikyou's collared blouse. "In New York and Los Angeles." She did not look particularly ecstatic.
"Columbia University and UCLA?" Sesshoumaru questioned, although he knew perfectly well what schools the girl had applied to, but for some reason, he wanted to stall her. Kikyou nodded solemnly in confirmation. "You are troubled." The man set his briefcase on the black ebony coffee table, studying Kikyou for any sign of her thoughts.
As Sesshoumaru loosened his simple grey tie, it suddenly came to him why Kikyou looked so terse. It was five-hundred years ago again, and there was no Kikyou seated on his sofa in his luxurious penthouse apartment, but instead, Sesshoumaru was looking down at a young Rin, the bright summer sun illuminating the ramshackle interior of the hut the youth had called a home. The wood was spent from years and year of unforgiving rainfall and humid summer temperatures, the floor creaky from the weight of countless creature's footfalls. And little Rin, a fourteen-year-old girl at the time, was garbed in the white haori and red hakama of a priestess. Her expressive eyes clouded in impending tears.
"Rin," Sesshoumaru remembered he had addressed her, "The time has come for you to make your choice." The priestess garb was his answer, he had known, but he had asked anyway, "Will you stay with the humans or will you come with me?"
"My good lord Sesshoumaru," Rin had began articulately, "I wish I could do both, but I'm sorry. I'm going to stay."
Sesshoumaru had expected the words, but what he had not expected was the subsequent pang of displeasure. He felt hollow, as if he'd lost something, and somehow, that memory was one of the few things in his life that he could recall with such excruciating detail. He could count every single freckle as he thought back on Rin's face, could smell the stew brewing in another hut, could hear Kagome mashing herbs as Inuyasha grunted about her in a far off field, could still feel the his frown deepen at Rin's apologetic words.
Sesshoumaru did not understand why he had felt such emptiness that day. Before coming to hear Rin's decision, he had long though about it, mulled it over at least a hundred times, but no matter what way he approached the subject, the answer was always the same: Rin had no place in his world. Yet then why had it left him feeling so peculiar that she had reached the same conclusion as he?
Sesshoumaru came to again. Kikyou was still seated, her hands fiddling with the hem of her blouse, the laptop atop the same ebony table he had placed his briefcase on, her eyes fixed on the blank television screen situated on the opposite wall. She was making a decision, Sesshoumaru realized.
Kikyou loved her family, to him that was clear. She will choose them, he realized, She will go to New York. The hollowness returned. Is this sadness? Sesshoumaru let himself question. Whatever it was, it was ridiculous, he willed himself to believe, but it was futile trying to rationalize it, he could not stifle the haunting vacancy from so many years ago. It was unacceptable, Sesshoumaru chastised himself – he had spent century after century roaming the world, and he never felt he needed anybody, so why did it bother him then that he'd be alone again?
He pondered on the possibility that he had gone soft. In a human-infested world, it could be that their pathetic habits could have infected him with weakness. But that idea too was absurd to Sesshoumaru. This Sesshoumaru, contaminated by the feebleness of humans and their emotions? It was unthinkable. Sesshoumaru thought himself to be perfection – he was not influenced by the ways of lesser beings.
But there he stood, dreading the answer from a raven-haired girl with an ego that rivaled his own.
"I have to make my decision fast." Kikyou broke his concentration. Sesshoumaru did not reply; he couldn't. What could he say that would not sound pathetic, human, and foolish? Nothing. Silence was the best answer.
Perhaps that would dishearten her, make her come to an election faster, and then the problem would be solved. She would be gone, and in time, he would cease to feel, like he had done almost five centuries ago, when his once-ward died of old age.
It was for the best, Sesshoumaru convinced himself.
Two days later, after coming home from his office, he found his apartment Kikyou-less. Her scent lingered, but there was no heartbeat to accompany it. Had the girl left already? His eyes fell to the kitchen, to the couch, to all the spots the girl had ever occupied in his home, but there was nobody there to greet him but the silence. It felt cold, almost. Empty.
He set his briefcase down, this time haphazardly on the blue-carpeted floor, and sank into the sofa. Against the white of the suede cushion, he found a singular stark black hair. He picked at the strand and dangled it from his long, porcelain fingers. He had not been in that position for long when he heard keys jangling and the lock to his door turning.
Surely enough, in stepped Kikyou and Sesshoumaru felt something akin to relief wash over him. He stood up.
"You cut your hair." Sesshoumaru realized suddenly. Her hair was still coal black, but her waist-length tresses were no more – she had cropped all of her hair so that it just barely skimmed past her chin.
"New hair for a new life." Kikyou jested, Sesshoumaru assumed. He was never quite sure when the girl was joking, since she usually delivered her punch lines in a dry, almost cynical manner, much like he did.
"It suits you." Sesshoumaru complimented earnestly, albeit in his monotone. Although her long healthy hair had been the envy of many, Sesshoumaru came to the conclusion that he much preferred her with short hair. It differentiated her from the original priestess Kikyou; that is, Inuyasha's Kikyou.
"Thank you." Kikyou replied softly. "I've also thought about what school to go to." She added.
The strange feeling of dread returned to Sesshoumaru, and he chastised himself for allowing himself to care what the reincarnation chose.
"And after much thought, I've finally decided." Kikyou continued after an extended pause. Sesshoumaru considered stopping her, telling her he already knew what she had chosen, just so he would not have to hear it, but he quickly reasoned that it would only make him seem upset. No, he would not allow Kikyou the pleasure of knowing he so much as cared. "I will be moving to Los Angeles."
An almost imperceptible twitch of his fingers was the only indication that Sesshoumaru had reacted. Whether or not Kikyou had noticed the movement, he did not know, but she continued anyway, "I'll be living in an apartment with a roommate. I've already made the arrangements." Kikyou reported. Relief washed over Sesshoumaru and he hated that he had let himself care for a teenage girl – and the reincarnation of one of Inuyasha's love interests, no less. He scowled at himself, but said nothing.
Instead, he nodded and immediately booked plane tickets to Los Angeles. Instead, he drove Kikyou to the airport one day later and boarded the plane with her, relocating himself to Los Angeles as well. Instead, he let his better judgment slip away and let it burn into cinders as he helped her unload her meager belongings from a taxi and helped her carry them up three flights of concrete stairs into her new residence.
"Kikyou," Sesshoumaru blurted, holding two heavy cardboard boxes stacked sturdily atop each other, "You do not have to live here."
"I know," Kikyou sighed from behind him. Wheeling a large black suitcase behind her, "But this is what I want."
Sesshoumaru grimaced at the chipped off-white walls of Kikyou's new home. The walls may have once been a resplendent white, but time and lazy college students had dirtied the walls into their current dull color. Sesshoumaru's frown further deepened when the odor of musty laundry wafted in from the open door.
Kikyou had refused Sesshoumaru's generous offer of a room at his spacious, and tastefully decorated, Beverly Hills home. It was close enough to the university, but even with that rationale, she had opposed the idea. She had even rejected his second offer to lease a much more expensive flat that was in a much better condition than the rickety old building she had chosen to reside in for a school year.
"I know your bank account is a bottomless pit, but I want to be independent." Kikyou had said, but Sesshoumaru didn't completely buy it. He suspected the nineteen-year-old was just afraid of the implications of living with him or anything owned by him had. Was Kikyou as averse to commitment as Sesshoumaru was? He jeered at the thought.
"My roommate is gone for the weekend." Kikyou interrupted his scrutiny of her new home as she shut off her phone and placed it on the kitchen counter, "I'll be living in the room on the left." Wordlessly, Sesshoumaru made his way towards the room. The walls were the same dirtied white color as the rest of the apartment, but at least the supplied furniture was in good condition and had been wiped clean – he could tell by the smell of the lemon-scented cleaner that engulfed the room. The bookshelf, bed frame, desk, and drawer were all wood.
Sesshoumaru wasted no time as he set down the boxes atop the wooden desk, opening them both up for Kikyou's convenience. He had been going to tread down back to his car to retrieve the rest of Kikyou's belongings, but the familiar sight of a book caught his eye.
Compilation of Japanese Fairytales and Folklore, the title read in faded gold lettering against an aged maroon leather cover. It was the same book Kikyou had so carelessly left forgotten at the coffee shop a little less than a year ago. The bookmark from before, the same one with the colorful butterfly stickers and the childish scrawl that read "to Kikyou, the best sister ever", was on a different page than he remembered – she was further into the demonology chapter, but to his surprise, she seemed to have stopped on a section about the famed inu youkai. Sesshoumaru snapped his attention back to Kikyou, suspicious of her awareness of his true identity. Does she know? He wondered, but his incredulousness grew as she continued to neatly refold the clothing from her suitcase into her new wooden drawer. Sesshoumaru turned his attention back to the thinned yellow pages of the volume.
The inu youkai, the second paragraph began, were powerful demons, and oral tradition says that they once were the lords of Western Japan's demon domain. However, these dreaded demons were very much like their animal counterpart, the dog. Legends say that dog demons had an affinity for humans – that is, they had an inherent desire to seek out humans and build relationships or partnerships. The myths point out that some did it subconsciously, as the higher-ranking dog demons shared conflicting emotions over their innate fondness of humans versus their need to demonstrate their power over other demons.
But Sesshoumaru could not finish reading the passage - he forced the book closed in a disdainful manner, as if the book was the true demon, and not he. He let his eyes settle back to Kikyou, whom was squatting beside her suitcase, her eyes fixated upon him questioningly.
"Is something wrong?" She queried in bemusement.
"You were reading about dog demons." Sesshoumaru stated, knowing that "your book is absolutely wrong about dog demons" would sound ridiculous to the skeptical Kikyou.
"Oh, yes." Kikyou stood up, picking up the book where Sesshoumaru had brusquely thrown it on the wooden desk. "My grandfather gave it to me. It's been passed down in the Higurashi family for generations. He gave it to me instead of my older brother because I was always fond of fairytales, and as I grew, that interest turned to history and culture." Kikyou elaborated at Sesshoumaru's beckoning stare.
Kikyou lifted the book by its worn leather binding to tuck it neatly into the bookshelf, but her bookmark and another stray piece of paper fluttered out as consequence. Sesshoumaru, out of curiosity, bent down to retrieve the fallen papers before Kikyou could do it herself.
"Who is this?" Sesshoumaru temporarily lost his composure. The paper that was not the bookmark was a picture of a teenage girl with dark, bouncy hair and cheerful caramel eyes. She was clothed in a green sailor school uniform, and at the sight of Kagome, Sesshoumaru's blood shot up to his head in shock.
"I'd been looking for that. That's my older sister," Kikyou answered casually, "Well, my step sister. Did you think it was me?" Kikyou added that last question airily. "Her name is Kagome."
Sesshoumaru prided himself in being clever and sharp-minded, but for the first time in many years, he was completely baffled. His silence must have led Kikyou to infer his confusion, for she immediately began to explain.
"I suppose we've known each other long enough…" Kikyou began, almost inaudibly, "Only Kaede and I are full biological sisters. Midoriko is our half-sister – same mother, different father. Kagome and Souta are our step-siblings. You see; Kaede, Midoriko and I are orphans. Our mother passed away when we were little, and we were passed from family to family in temporary foster care until I met Chiyo Higurashi, Souta and Kagome's biological mother. Our step-mother was very sad after having lost Kagome, and I think it was part of the reason why she made the decision to adopt us. That and because of my uncanny resemblance to Kagome."
"Where is this Kagome now?" Sesshoumaru pried, wanting to know if another vestige of his past existed in his present.
"Kagome was always a touchy subject. Our adoptive mother would say that Kagome had run off to marry a man in a faraway place, a place where she could never come back. Grandfather and my step-brother Souta would only change the subject. I'd always suspected that Kagome had died a tragic death, and hence why nobody wanted to talk about it. Midoriko, Kaede, and I quickly learned to stop asking questions." Kikyou paused, a wistful smile settled on her face, "My step-mother died of cancer a few years ago. Her last words to me were about Kagome. She said that she knew why I looked so much like her daughter despite being unrelated. She said she was sure that I was Kagome's reincarnation." Sesshoumaru's eyes widened and Kikyou's sad smile morphed into a somber frown, "I know it's silly, but she was near death and delusional. She said that Kagome had been the reincarnation of an ancient priestess with my same name, and that in turn Kagome had been reincarnated into me. I guessed then that Kagome had died, but even if she had, she was not too much older than me. I'm not the most devout of believers," Kikyou admitted, "but even if I was, it didn't make any sense. The poor thing was very ill, but she was a good mother." The nostalgic upturn of her lips returned at that. "I'm sorry, it's not like me to be so talkative, is it?"
"No." Sesshoumaru said, whether it was to himself or in reply to Kikyou, he did not know. No, Kikyou had not been acting like her usual guarded self, but also, no, he could not accept the repugnant idea that his future Kikyou could be the reincarnation of Inuyasha's Kagome. No. It changed everything.
But yes, Sesshoumaru thought, it made much more sense. The legendary priestess Kikyou had already been reincarnated into Kagome – could one soul be reincarnated twice? He wished then he were better versed in spiritual matters.
Sesshoumaru's disposition had visibly soured, and Kikyou noticed. "You don't have to stay." Kikyou told him, her reminiscent smile from before wiped off her face, leaving her only with her usual serious exterior.
And he did not stay. He took Kikyou's belongings from the taxi and gave her an excuse about having to tend to some business. He regretted it afterward, however – he owed no excuses or pardons to a human.
He did not know why Kikyou being Kagome's reincarnation bothered him so much, but it did. Both Kagome and the past Kikyou had both been involved with Inuyasha at one point; did it make any difference whom this future Kikyou was reincarnated from? No, it did not, Sesshoumaru realized, and suddenly he felt disgusted as he unlocked the double doors to his splendid California home.
He sauntered over the spotless hardwood floor, appreciative of the fact that the housekeeping staff he had hired had followed his meticulous directions. They had even used the cleaner he had specified, he noticed, a rule that he imposed that was often disregarded. His keen sense of smell led certain cleaning products to especially irritate his sensitive nose, after all.
His appreciativeness ended when he sat down on a speckled black loveseat and glanced out the window to be greeted by the sight of a college-aged girl running on the sidewalk by his lavish home. His thoughts immediately settled back to the college-aged girl he knew, the somber Kikyou, and his bad humor returned.
Sesshoumaru swore he caught a whiff of Inuyasha's dog stink mixed with Kikyou's sweet lavender scent. She was Inuyasha's first, a voice nagged from deep within.
Sesshoumaru was beginning to regret having ever picked up that damned book.
XX
Author's Notes:
Hello all, sorry for the wait. I hope this chapter was satisfactory! It had been sitting around on my computer for a good while now, and it took me some time and a lot of editing for me to be happy with it. Transition chapters are always the hardest to write - and this is one of them. Buuuuut, next chapter should be up sooner because I'm actually really excited to write it out.
As always, I appreciate all the reviews I get. Every once in a while, I read through all of them with a stupid smile on my face just because they really do make me feel very happy. I cherish you all, dearest readers! And seriously, I wish I could give you all hugs!
Until next time!