Ukime No Sekisetsu

Part XI

Inevitable: Sesshomaru

Sesshomaru waited as long as he could; an hour - two. Every breeze, every stray gust of air tickled him with her scent, a depth in it that he was beginning to know very well. If she was awake, she was at her most dangerous - and if she was asleep, he suddenly found himself hoping that she was dreaming of him. If not, then who was it - who was it, stirring the embers of that fragrance? Abruptly, with a single, violent motion, he stood and slid the door aside.

A thin sheet of lavender paper had been laid carefully where he would see it at once, and he fought another war with himself, staring down at it, contemplating what it might say, what it might not say. With a growl, he grabbed up the words she had left - so thin, one sheet, unfolded, so delicate - his fingers, trembling, almost tore the paper.

Moonlight, the garment of the night;
It lies over me, yet leaves me cold – and I wonder;
but I do not expect you to understand.

Suddenly, there were only two directions in front of him, only two paths he could take. He could run, run until the winter had sapped the heat from his veins, until the snow froze his heart mid-beat - or he could go to her.

Down the long hallways, as if directed for his ears alone, he heard the sound of her breath, almost a sob, and the decision was made for him; his feet moved by themselves.

He stopped where he had always caught himself before; carefully, quietly, he slid her door open, and stood at her threshold, staring down the room towards her bed. He heard a rustle, a shift as she moved and her bedding moved with her; his eyes discerned the rise and fall of her covers with her breath.

He remembered what it was he had wanted to do to her, the thoughts that had sent him speeding through the corridors, and the thought of her white skin was enticing - his words had often claimed her and she did not reject them. Was she still human? Could he give her more than words, and not destroy himself utterly?

The moonlight had waned to a sliver, a fingernail crescent that was barely visible through her windows, shedding more shadows than light. She lay alone in her bed, her movements restless, and he knew then that she was not sleeping. Silent, he stood, poised - waiting. With terrible focus he saw her eyes open suddenly, staring up at the ceiling. His eyes followed her gaze; the smooth lines of the ceiling planks were invisible in the darkness.

If he had been able to see her thoughts, the new dreams that had begun to haunt her, he might have already been moving towards her; as it was, the rich heat of her aroused scent was hard enough to ignore. It was like hot, sweet syrup in the air; it tugged on him with invisible threads. She was wet with desire, tense with it; he could see it in her skin. He wanted to know what she was thinking, who had darkened the purity of his miko with such passion - but she was thinking, Why?

Why should it be Sesshomaru, of all people, who finally woke the sleeping desire of her flesh? It was not his tallness, the smooth sharpness of his features – perhaps it was the glow of his eyes. His touch attracted her, the firmness of his fingers, the way he had dragged his fangs across her throat so tenderly. She had no illusions about the demon in him. His youki was strong, a vital influence that reassured her, made her feel protected.

Sesshomaru took a startled step backwards, seeing these thoughts pass over her face and unsure of their origins. Abruptly, she threw off the cover; he saw her press the bottoms of her feet against the floor, but she did not stand. Coldness was seeping into her through the soles of her feet; he saw her shiver, but that was not enough to help her. Sesshomaru heard a frustrated sob, saw her turn back to her pillows, curl her body tight as if she could crush the desire out of herself, the want.

A long few moments snuck by, and Sesshomaru had still taken only that one step back. It was all he seemed to have been doing lately - moving backwards, away from her, away from the temptation that was her skin, her promise, her cure.

He took three steps forward and slid the screen shut behind him. Kagome did not hear the footsteps crossing her floor. They were too soundless - and then suddenly his hands surrounded her, slid over her skin, and a gasp darted out of her throat. She wanted to cry, maybe, or scream. Why him, now? How many tortures was the world capable of devising?

"I could hear you, Kagome. What is your pain?"

A laugh that was also a sob slid out of her.

"Maybe it is you, you who are my pain."

"I-"

The room was so thick with that arousing scent that he could smell nothing else; her eyes had disintegrated into black pools of want among the shadows of her bed. Gentle, not touching on his greater strength, he pulled her up. Sitting, she trembled, and the heat of her body was a taste in the air. The knowledge that he was the one she desired made his own desire that much harder to control; the bloody thoughts left him, became thoughts of soft flesh in tension.

If I had known what was hurting her, would I have come?

But he had known this would happen; he was youkai. Being finally tempted, he could not step away. With the first step he had taken into the room, he was already lost. Slowly, he bent and nipped at the curve of her ear.

Kagome moaned, a sound that told him more than he needed to know, and he let his mouth wander freely, tasting the skin of her neck, her throat. She was still swaying; with no effort, he pushed her back onto the bed and lay beside her.

The shift she slept in opened easily to his hands. Without a word, he touched her, knowing, and her eyes opened wide. His fingers flickered over her, found one place in the softness that lifted her hips from the bed when he touched her. Her hands crawled up his arm, tightening, and he pulled gently on the taut points of her nipples with his other hand. A new sound escaped her throat, something between a sigh and cry.

His fingers were slippery with wetness, slid over her and dipped inside of her, until her thighs started to shake, her toes pointed, her nails became like claws in his arm. Sesshomaru bent to kiss her, slid his tongue across her tongue and swallowed the long cry that broke out of her.

She was shattered under him, shaking in all directions at once, but he held her, and she grew quiet, and did not speak. There was a red stain under her skin, the hot flush of her pleasure. He wanted her so badly he could barely breathe, but she was breathing more quietly, drowsy, the heat fading out of her scent. In that moment, he knew he wanted more than just to touch her, more than just the pleasure he knew her flesh could give him.

What does that mean?

Without a word, before it was too late, he stood, and paced down the length of the room and out.

In the morning, the first of a terrible set of events overrode his pleasant distraction with Kagome. Of those who served him, the few who were human had never been allowed in his presence. Shippou had Kitsune power, the ability to hide his shape and conceal his nature, but he himself had no such ability and the Kitsune was not...subtle enough to be allowed a casual impersonation.

There had been no problem; it had long been customary among humans for those of high noble and royal status to appear behind screens and curtains; his silhouette was imposing, but there was nothing specifically demonic about it.

Times, however, were changing.

If belief in the terror of youkai and mononoke was fading, then so were the old traditions that had kept that terror safe from discovery. Shippou had come, bringing the man who had been responsible for the history that Sesshomaru had destroyed; had it really been a year ago...another year?

Shippou had come...and this time the man was not content with his intermediary, not content with the lord who was hiding behind curtains and screens.

If it had not been for Kagome, Sesshomaru would never have done it - but his old nature was returning to him, the old instincts churning, and the idea of turning away from the challenge of this pitiful human made something inside him turn over in wrath.

"You wanted to see your lord, human? Here he is."

In the well-manicured courtyard that stood before the entrance to the main hall, Sesshomaru stepped out into the light, stood still on the path in front of the door. His eyes narrowed; his features were cool, his expression haughty, impassive. The man standing in front of him took a single step backwards, his mouth widening, opening in disbelief as an ancestral terror was suddenly restored.

"De-demon!"

A smile that had once promised terrible things promised them all again.

"I thought a miko had come to this house; the villagers said - "

Sesshomaru took one step forward, and the man turned and ran, falling in the dust, spraying words over his shoulders - as if those could hurt him!

"Just you wait - we won't allow youkai to live here! There's no way the real lords will stand by -"

He was gone, disappearing into the trees. For a moment, Sesshomaru contemplated going after him, but the sun was moving up in the sky and it was almost time for him to go to Kagome, dress her; he thought of her in gauze, and smiled to himself as he walked inside. Shippou stopped him as he was passing over the threshold and gestured towards the trees.

"What about him?"

"You may kill him, if you like. I do not bother with humans who are not in my way."

He left Shippou standing in the corridor, his face folded in on itself in confusion.

A/N: Wow! much apologizings, it took a while for this to come together in my head, not sure why....I think I got too caught up in Bloodlust and Winds....why doesn't anyone read winds? read it, dammit! ahem. Shameless Plug. Anyway, coming soon: A real lemon, more angst, the beginning of the end of the angst, and...other things. Anyone who feels like Reviewing, I would appreciate input on whether I should post the alternate ending, as well as the one I decided on ultimately. Please Review!

Revisions = done! That took...less time than I thought! More...almost immediately, while I take advantage of wireless internet!