Limerance
Chapter 9
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"Kagome," Inuyasha gasped, shooting up so quickly he nearly fell off the branch he'd dozed off on. The name echoed in his mind, burning through his veins and nerves like acid. He choked, struggling to breathe for a moment as he composed himself. His claws dug into the collar of his fire rat robe as though searching for an anchor to steady himself in the storm of emotion that washed over him. His teeth ground together and a sound escaped him that resembled a strangled moan of pain.
His nightmare flashed behind his eyelids, playing back the most horrible moments over and over like one of those "movies" Kagome had taken him to see in her time. His breathing came in harsh pants, body paralyzed with the horror of reliving the worst day of his life. Helpless and petrified, he saw again and again Kagome walking to the Jewel's altar, saw her raise her hands and make the wish that took her from him. His hands convulsed. The memory of tearing grass and dirt digging under his claws as he sat in front of the fire after her disappearance felt as real as the scratchy bark beneath his feet.
It took time, but eventually, the nightmare dissipated, leaving him a shuddering trembling mess. His hand shaking, he pulled something out from the inside of his clothes. A square bit of cloth with his name stitched on the side. Kagome called it a "handkerchief". In their first year of marriage, she'd made him one out of cotton, taking time to sew his name into it. He would have smiled at the memory of her clumsiness with a needle, but remembering her these days only served to rub salt into his wounds.
Bringing the cloth to his nose, he took a deep breath, allowing the familiar scent to wash over him and neutralize the agony inside his heart.
Kagome.
For a moment, it was enough to calm him. Until he realized that the scent was fading. He cursed, stuffing the object back into his robes. Four months. Had it only been that long? Such a short amount of time, yet her scent was nearly gone from everything in their home. Their futon, their pillows, her clothes, everything. What once was their sanctuary, their small piece of happiness in this world, was now nothing but four walls and a lifeless fire pit. Staying there, breathing the stale air, seeing her in every corner, was impossible. Everywhere he turned, signs of their life together slapped him in the face until the bruises were too much to take.
He was glad he'd made the decision to leave it all behind and travel the land alone for a while. Of course, there were those who probably waited for him to return, but he couldn't. Not yet. Saying her name was enough to send him to his knees in agony. If he came back and saw what awaited back in Kaede's village, he was sure he'd lose his mind. Subconsciously, his fingers toyed with the beads of his rosary. What he wouldn't give to hear her voice just one more time, even if it meant a solid impact with the ground.
His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in several days. His last meal had been some soup in the village he'd helped rid of persistent demons. He hadn't been able to taste any of it. Lately, food turned to dry sand in his mouth. The sun irritated him with its brightness. He hated how nature — how life everywhere — moved on without her while he could not. At times, he wished he'd never met her, but thinking of what his life might have become without her frightened him. Would he have lived out the rest of his unnaturally long life alone, not trusting anyone, never opening his heart and meeting others who could give meaning to his existence?
Sounds caught his attention. Peering down to the ground below, he saw a young woman surrounded by three little boys making their way through the main path of the forest. They laughed as they walked, their faces so bright that Inuyasha cringed. He smelled apples. The woman was carrying a basket full of them. Her belly was swollen with child. A family. He grimaced. Just the word made him want to vomit.
"Now, now," the woman cooed to the boys. "Just wait a little longer. When we come home, I'll make you a treat."
"But, Mama, I'm hungry now," one of the children whined, hopping up and down in an effort to reach the basket.
"You must learn patience, my darling. Sometimes, it's better to wait than to take something right away."
The woman looked nothing like his Kagome, but something about her words brought back memories of her. Maybe it was her gentleness. Or maybe it was the way she softened her voice with the children. Whatever it was, he wanted nothing more to do with it. Without a sound, he moved back and away, springing between branches then landing on the ground and breaking into a run.
Night or day, time no longer mattered. He would run as fast and as far as his feet would carry him. If only the ties that bound him to Kaede's village could disappear, he would be free to roam as he had once been. Once. Before he met Kikyo. Before all was set in motion to change his destiny forever.
Fuck all of this! — He screamed in his mind as he ran. Trees whizzed by, different scents and sounds going unnoticed. Inside, his demon rage began to stir, a response to the suffocating sense of responsibility that he desperately wanted to toss aside. In that moment, he made another decision. He would return to Kaede's village and cut all ties there once and for all. No matter what anyone said or did, nothing would stop him from breaking his chains and walking away from everything and anything that reminded him of her.
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"Has there been any news, Lady Kaede?" Sango asked, brushing her fingers through the black tresses of the little girl in front of her. The child fumbled with a set of toy blocks, no doubt lost in her own world.
"I couldn't say…he went to the southern villages to see about a demon infestation there. I heard rumors that he succeeded, but nothing more."
"It's been nearly three weeks," Miroku spoke up from the back of Kaede's hut. Using a large flat rod of metal, he tended the fire, keeping out the evening chill. Beside him, a pair of twin girls wrestled on the floor, their little brother hiding behind his father's thick violet robes. "I had a feeling this was the case. We should look for him."
"He will come back when he is ready," Kaede said softly. Her weathered old hands mashed a bundle of herbs together in a ceramic mortar, tense and stiff, bony white knuckles pressing up against skin spotted with age. Kaede's posture was rigid. So, the old priestess worried about him, too.
"He doesn't have that luxury," Miroku answered, his voice flat. Sango glanced at him, surprised to hear him angry. Her gentle-tempered husband rarely showed such open displeasure about his friends. Typically, he was content to accept their decisions as their own without judging them. This time, however, he had good reason to be upset.
"Miroku…"
"No, Sango. This isn't fair to anyone." His jaw clenched, fingers tightening their grip on the poker in his hand. Suddenly, he shoved it into the fire pit with a sharp whoosh, releasing a cloud of glowing orange sparks. They fluttered in the air, fighting for survival, but the cold soon turned them to dead ash. Some vanished. Some fell to the ground, unmoving.
"We knew something like this might happen," Sango offered.
"No. Inuyasha's behavior is irrational. Lady Kagome made the correct decision. We all miss her terribly, and we are all hurting over what happened, but…"
Sango's hands stilled. "We can't expect him to recover so soon. It's only been a few months."
"And what of things here?" The monk demanded. "He isn't a child. He can't just run away from everything and abandon his responsibilities here." He glared at his wife. "Why are you defending him?"
"I'm not," she denied in a soft voice. The child in front of her stopped playing with her blocks. Sango rushed to continue petting her head, even offered to braid her thick long hair into her favorite styles. The girl shrugged, and when the child turned around to face her, Sango's breath hitched in her throat. In that moment, her heart went out to Inuyasha, for who could look into this little girl's ocean blue eyes and not remember…
"Sango," Miroku cut into her thoughts. "Tomorrow morning, I'm going to look for him. This cannot continue."
"I'll go with you, then."
"No. You should stay here with the children. I'll take Kirara."
Sango looked down when the child pulled on her kimono sleeve.
"When is Father coming back?" She asked, her eyes a picture of loneliness and sadness. "Does he not like me anymore?"
For a moment, Sango struggled to come up with another lie. They'd been telling the girl falsehoods one after another since Inuyasha's disappearance. Somehow, lying to her again felt wrong, especially when Sango had a hunch that the little girl knew what they were doing. Worrying at her lower lip, Sango reached out and cupped the girl's face, tracing the markings there. A single blue stripe on each cheek, the only feature that marked her as more than human.
"Chiharu…the truth is that your father misses your mother terribly. He is hurting, and…"
"When he looks at me, Father thinks about Mother…"
"Yes," Sango nodded. Chiharu's intuition was growing to be as sharp as her mother's.
"I know," the child said. "It's because it's all my fault."
Sango blinked, not understanding. "What is, dear?"
"That Mother is gone. It's my fault."
"Why would you say that?" Sango rushed to contradict her. She pulled the little girl closer. "None of this is your fault. Your mother made a decision to destroy the Jewel for all of us. She gave her life for a selfless cause."
Chiharu didn't say anything in response to that, just kept looking at her adopted aunt with a harrowed countenance. The emotion dug deep, draining the life from Chiharu's eyes until they looked hollow. For the first time in years, Sango wanted to round on Inuyasha and knock some sense back into him. He was always reckless, and they'd spent enough time with him to know how much Kagome meant to him. But, Miroku was right. What was he thinking, leaving his daughter alone like this? He may have lost his wife, but Chiharu had lost a mother. Would she now lose a father, too?
But then she imagined what she might do if Miroku was taken from her, and all of her anger faded, leaving a pulsing pain behind. With Chiharu staring at her with such distress, Sango could no longer deny her own heartache. She and Miroku had been so busy trying to help Inuyasha through his loss that neither of them had had a proper chance to grieve themselves. Kagome was just as important to them as she was to their friend. They'd lost a sister. No, more than that. They'd lost the person that was the heart of their bonds and the reason why they could continue to lead a peaceful life after all they'd suffered.
"Maybe Father won't come back at all," Chiharu whispered. Sango expected her to cry; she might have preferred it to the despair in the girl's eyes. But only silence followed her dark words.
"Your father will return," Kaede reassured her. "Just be patient, child."
Miroku stood up and was about to say something when the bead curtain at the entrance of Kaede's hut clacked and hissed as a rough hand shoved it aside. A figure stepped inside, looking worn and ragged, his clothes covered in dead leaves, dirt, and gashes as though a beast had clawed it all over. His eyes held a feverish light, dark circles forming shadows under them. Face pale and drawn, he looked worse than Sango had ever seen him, even at the worst of times. A black cloud hung over him, a sort of wild untamed aura that felt dangerous.
"Inuyasha," Sango said, her voice shaky. This was the last thing she expected to see, and judging by the looks on everyone's faces, her friends shared her surprise. "You've returned."
"Just to get some things," he muttered. "Hey, Kaede. I need some of that special salve you used to make for…Kag- " he choked on the name, as though someone stabbed him directly in the stomach. "When she went to purify the other villages."
Kaede's eyebrows dipped low. "What use could you have for such a thing?"
"Stop askin' questions and just give it to me," Inuyasha snapped. His eyes narrowed, the bridge of his nose wrinkling like ruined linen. "Doesn't matter why I need it. I just do."
"Won't you stay awhile? You look terrible. Are you injured?"
"I'm fine. Now, hurry up. I want to get out of here."
"Inuyasha," Miroku spoke up, his voice hard and low. "Aren't you forgetting something?" He stepped towards the hanyou, his face a neutral mask. Sango knew better. Inside, he was livid. She'd learned to read his subtle body language, and right now, she was fairly certain that the monk was barely restraining himself from lashing out at his friend.
"No," Inuyasha replied. "I'm not forgetting anything. Back off, Miroku." The hanyou's hand slipped to Tetsusaiga's hilt.
"I will not."
With his silver hair a tangled mess, his eyes blazing with a feral light, and his cheekbones coloring with faint blue stripes, Sango knew this wouldn't end well.
"Miroku…" she tried.
"No. This needs to stop now. Inuyasha, Chiharu is waiting for you. She needs her father. You should have heard her today. She thinks Lady Kagome's death is her fault —"
"It is," Inuyasha said curtly.
"What?" It was Sango's turn to stand up, shock now replaced by a quickly growing fury. "How can you say that?"
"Doesn't matter. I don't have time for this shit. Kaede, are you gonna give me that salve or no?"
"Inuyasha," the old priestess began, "…perhaps you should —"
"I'm done here."
Miroku's hand whipped out and latched on to Inuyasha's sleeve. "Just wait a minute!"
"Let go, monk. We both know who will win this fight." The air suddenly turned hot, swirling with a nauseating dark presence. Inuyasha's youki swelled and filled the room, oppressive and searing. "Let. Go."
Miroku seemed to obey on instinct. In the next second, Inuyasha vanished. Sango felt a breeze by her ankles and looked down to find Chiharu had disappeared as well.
"What do we do?" Sango asked.
"We wait," Kaede answered, her hands resuming their task. "It is all we can do."
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Inuyasha was about to cross the border between the village and the forest that held his namesake when a small shrill voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Father!"
The plea ripped through him like a frigid tidal wave. That word might as well have been Tetsusaiga cutting straight into his heart.
But, he didn't turn. Couldn't. If he did, he was sure he wouldn't be able to leave again.
"Father, please wait!"
Small bare feet slapped the ground behind him. Chiharu's scent drifted to him on the wind — unique and pure, just like hers. Steadying his resolve, he clenched his hands into fists by his side.
"Go home, Chiharu," he ground out.
"I want to go with you!" The girl shouted. She stopped just short of touching him. He could smell her fear and anguish. "Please don't leave me again. I miss you. And Mother. I…"
"Go home. Stay with Sango and Miroku. You'll be safe."
"You aren't coming back," she said, her voice trembling. A moment of silence. Then sniffling and small gasps of air. Inuyasha stilled. He'd never seen his daughter cry, not even when she was no bigger than the palm of his hand. It must have taken a force of immense power to draw out her emotions to this extent. Inwardly, he cursed. When he smelled her tears for the first time, it nearly broke him. "I know you aren't coming back. I know why you hate me. It's because of Mother. Because of what she did for me."
"You…weren't supposed to hear us talking about that," Inuyasha said haltingly. "We didn't want you to know." His claws dug into his palms, drawing blood. "Not that it changes anything. I can't stay here with you. I just…can't."
Chiharu's small body pressed against his leg. Her arms wrapped around it, her face burying into his clothes. "Papa," she shivered. "Papa, please don't go. I'm sorry about everything. I'm sorry. Please, don't go."
With each sob and shiver, Inuyasha felt his defensive walls melting until he whirled around and sank to his knees, throwing his arms around his daughter and pressing her against his chest. She continued crying, soaking the front of his haori with hot tears that burned through him to his very core. He pressed his nose into her hair, breathing deeply of her familiar scent until his own shoulders began to shake and tremble.
His fangs tore at the inside of his mouth to stop them, but the tears flowed anyway. He yearned to be stronger in this moment. He wanted to be strong for his daughter. But, he couldn't be. Not as he was, cleaved in two by the loss of the center of his world. Chiharu's pain, so like his own, hit him like a fist in his gut. How could he have left her? How could he have abandoned her?
"It's not your fault, Chiharu. It's not."
"I wish," she hiccuped, sniffling, "I wish I died instead. Then Mama would be here and you wouldn't hurt so much. Papa, I'm sorry. I wish I died instead."
"No!" He growled, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to look at him. "No. Never say that again, got it? Not ever."
Her blue eyes, so like Kagome's, shredded like a demon's serrated teeth into his heart. The suffering in those familiar orbs — the tears — undid him. He saw Kagome looking at him through his daughter's features, imagined her face twisted in sorrow for the way he'd abandoned their child and was so close to doing so again. Thinking of her voice asking 'why' wrenched a sob from his throat. Unable to hold back any longer, he pulled Chiharu to him, wrapping her in a crushing embrace.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his entire body shaking now. "I'm so sorry for everything."