So...it's been a while. Apologies. Real life and all that. -_-
But I really wanted to get this chapter done and posted since today is EF's one-year anniversary. I cannot believe it's been a year...it's simultaneously amazing and overwhelming LOL. I never expected to write this much or for this long and damn we still have a ways to go. Ah, well. One step at a time, right?
Anyway...hope y'all enjoy this chapter ;-) [And a quick reminder...it's rated M for a reason—well, reasons.]
Quotes:
"I don't know why they are all so eager to be remembered. What good will it do them? There are some things that should be forgotten by everyone, and never spoken of again."
–Margaret Atwood, Alias Grace
"Life's too short, babe, Time's flyin', I'm looking for baggage that goes with mine."
–RENT, "La Vie Boheme"
He had simply reacted when Kagome's scream woke him, instantly drawing his sword and darting into her room.
Which…in retrospect…had been a little hasty.
"Rikuo?" Kagome switched on a lamp and blinked owlishly at him. "What are you doing? And…why do you have a sword?"
A nightmare? Must've been… He heaved a sigh of relief. And then, taking a closer look at Kagome, inhaled sharply.
She was sitting up in bed, covers thrown back carelessly to reveal one shapely bare leg, the T-shirt she'd slept in hugging every gorgeous curve. Her dark hair hung loose around her shoulders, slightly tousled from sleep.
In short, she looked sexy as hell.
Struggling to formulate an intelligible response, Rikuo said hoarsely, "You screamed."
Her mouth formed an O. Then, to his infinite discomfort, he watched her gaze creep down from his face to his bare chest, to his abs, and then down further to where his jeans hung low on his hips. Even in the dim light, he could see her cheeks flush as she swallowed hard and brought her gaze back up.
"It was just a nightmare. I'm sorry for waking you." A small shudder caused her shoulders to tremble.
Rikuo could sympathize, having suffered through countless horrific dreams himself that night. "Want to talk about it?"
"No." Then Kagome hesitated, chewed her bottom lip for a second, before adding, "Can I see your sword?"
The unintentional innuendo—or, at least he assumed it was unintended—almost killed him. He cleared his throat in an attempt to sound less strangled when he replied. "Sure." Taking a few strides over to the edge of her bed, he held Nenekirimaru out to her.
Her eyes lit up as she examined the katana, a pleased hum escaping her as she ran a finger along the flat of the blade.
Rikuo tried, and failed miserably, not to think about her running her hands over a different "sword." For fuck's sake, grow up, will you? he snarled at himself mentally.
"There's no youki… It's not a yokai blade?" Kagome asked, eyebrows raising in disbelief.
He couldn't hold back a smirk. "No, actually, it's a taimatō, and was forged—and reforged—by the Keikain onmyoji." (1)
Her eyes grew huge. "What? Okay, now you have to tell me the story."
"At"—a peek at the clock on the nightstand—"almost five o'clock in the morning?"
"Please?" She looked up at him pleadingly, and he laughed.
"You don't have class?"
Her mouth twisted as she glanced down at the sword in her hands. Then she returned her gaze to his, her lips curved in a mischievous smile as she handed Nenekirimaru back to him. "Nope."
"Liar."
She shrugged, still grinning. "Technically, yes, I do. But I can skip them, so it's fine."
Rikuo resheathed the sword and slung it over one shoulder. "Fine?"
"As in it's fine because I haven't used all the absences permitted by the attendance policy. The same professor teaches both, and today's a library research day anyway. It's not even like I'd miss anything important." Her grin widened. "So I am free until this evening when I have to go check in on and feed the cats at the sanctuary."
Rikuo chuckled. "All right, you win. Besides, fair is fair—I owe you my story too."
"Damn straight!" Kagome flung the covers back the rest of the way and hopped out of bed. Then she stopped, head cocking to one side as her eyes went to his shoulder. "You have a kitsune tattoo?"
He gave her a mock frown. "Oi, oi, blue eyes. I told you about matoi, didn't I?" (2)
"Right…sorry." She smiled sheepishly. "I haven't caffeinated yet, okay?"
He grinned. "Shall we remedy that?"
"Please."
After grabbing some coffee, breakfast, and a quick shower on Kagome's part, the two reclaimed their places on the sofa. Though, Rikuo noticed with some satisfaction, this time Kagome sat much closer to him, her knee nearly touching his leg and her feet tucked up under her.
She appeared to be waiting patiently for him to speak; her inquisitive sidelong glances and fidgeting with her shirt said otherwise. Her curiosity was endearing, but he had to give her credit for her restraint though.
"Hmm…where to start? I understand now what you meant when you said the same thing yesterday."
Kagome gave him a gentle smile. "Just start at the beginning, and skip whatever you and Natsumi-chan have already told me."
"She told you some stuff?" That came as a surprise—Natsumi didn't usually talk about what happened.
"Yeah, she told me about the Shikoku yokai, and the subway girl, and hinted at her getting turned into a yokai at Shibuya station, but said you'd need to tell that story."
Rikuo grimaced. Natsumi was right—it would be better for him to tell it, but that didn't mean he was looking forward to it.
"But you don't have to!" Kagome said hurriedly.
"No, I want to. I want you to know about my past—it's only fair."
She frowned. "Screw fair. You shouldn't feel obligated to talk about it if you're not ready. And…it's not like you're hiding it from me intentionally…" she said in a small voice.
"Hey." He nudged her. "None of that."
Kagome shrugged. Then, pointing to his shoulder, now covered by his button-down shirt, she asked, "So, the kitsune matoi? Who was that with?"
"I'll need to explain some stuff leading up to that, but I promise, I'll get there eventually."
"I know I kept saying the same thing yesterday, but damn, it's annoying!"
"Sorry?" He grinned. "So anyway… You know what? Kinda like you went back to Midoriko, let me jump back in history a bit to help explain things or at least give them context. You're familiar with Abe no Seimei?"
Kagome gave him a look. "Is that even a question? Of course. Hey… Is it true he was a hanyō?"
For some bizarre reason, her knowledge of the yokai world and its history filled him with pride. "Actually, yes. His mother was a kitsune—Hagoromo Gitsune. He was also known as Nue."
Rikuo told her the story of Seimei and his mother, and Seimei's goal to achieve eternal life so that he could create and rule over an ideal world, initially for humans and yokai alike. One of balancing darkness and light…but how it shifted to one of darkness ruling over light instead after the death of his mother. His desire to "purify" the world—and anyone who dared oppose him. The quintessential villain bullshit of world domination and utopias. How his scheme involved Hagoromo Gitsune being reincarnated, made stronger, in order to give birth to Seimei again. He had already given her the short version of his grandparents' meeting and how his grandfather defeated Hagoromo Gitsune as Yodo-dono, so he skimmed over that, aside from explaining about Nenekirimaru.
"If you want more details, ask the old man." Rikuo rolled his eyes. "I have no doubt he would be thrilled."
Kagome's eyes sparkled with excitement. "You sure he won't mind me asking? Because you know I will."
He chuckled. "Knock yourself out. Okay, so fast forward to the Edo period, when my father led and the Nura clan was established in and ruling Edo. Are you familiar with the game from that era, the One Hundred Tales?"
"Hyakumonogatari kaidankai? Sure, I've heard of it—where participants would light one hundred candles and take turns telling ghost or other supernatural stories, blowing out a candle when they finished? And the one hundredth supposedly summoned a yokai?"
"Yes, exactly. So during that time, a merchant named Sanmoto Gorōzaemon used the Hundred Stories and his Hyakki Teakettle to both create new yokai and gather Fear in Edo—Fear that belonged to the Nuragumi."
He explained about how Kurotabo had been brainwashed by Sanmoto and sent to assassinate Rihan, which came as quite a shock to Kagome, and how Sanmoto—and his body parts—wound up as yokai, and how Sanmoto was eventually defeated by Rihan.
"Okay, that's really…"
"Fucked up?" he supplied, a trace of unexpected anger seeping into his tone. Where did that come from? He thought he'd moved past that by now.
Kagome nodded. "That's not the guy who turned Natsumi into a yokai, is it?"
Rikuo's heart rate kicked up a notch, yet his voice was devoid of emotion when he answered. "That…that was Kyōsai, who was one of Sanmoto's body parts. But… I will get there."
He told her about his father and Yamabuki Otome, Hagoromo Gitsune's curse, and how Yamabuki Otome left, eventually died, and how her body was used by Sanmoto and Seimei—who conspired together in Hell—to reincarnate Hagoromo Gitsune so that Sanmoto could get revenge on Rihan. He explained about that revenge, giving her more details about Rihan's murder.
Rikuo closed his eyes and sighed deeply. No matter how many years had passed, talking about the death of his father wasn't easy. He felt Kagome's hands clasp his gently, interlacing their fingers, echoing the comfort he'd offered her the night before.
He opened his eyes to meet her gaze, her bright blue eyes full of concern. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and pulled a hand free of hers, then looped the arm over her shoulder and tugged her in close. Burying his face in her hair, he inhaled her soothing citrus and vanilla scent.
"You okay? Need a break?"
His reply was muffled. "Nah, 'm okay."
She pushed on his chest and tipped her head back to look at him seriously. "Don't lie to me, Rikuo."
"I'm not. Promise." He managed a weak smile. "Anyway…so that—Hagoromo Gitsune and Dad's death—was how I wound up in Tōno the first time, but what I didn't know then is that was barely the tip of the iceberg."
Rikuo resumed the story, telling her about Kyoto and all that happened there, including Seimei shattering Nenekirimaru and Rikuo asking Keikain Akifusa to reforge it. How he continued to train in preparation for Seimei's return, and then how the Hundred Stories clan resurfaced. Of Toryanse the Slasher and the subway girl, the latter he only mentioned in passing to give it context since Natsumi had already discussed that.
The further he got into the story, the edgier he felt, perhaps in anticipation of discussing things he'd really rather not speak of, let alone recall. When Rikuo got to the Kudan's prophecy and he and Tsurara getting attacked by random strangers and the game of "tag," long-forgotten rage welled up within him, making his hands shake as he balled them into fists.
If Kagome's expression was anything to go by, he wasn't the only one pissed off. "Tag? Like it was a damned game?"
"It was a game to them… They couldn't have cared less about the lives lost." Rikuo clenched his teeth, could hear them grinding together. Was he really in a position to judge them? How many lives had he taken?
He closed his eyes for a moment, massaging his temples. "Anyway, this was when Kiyotsugu's friendship and loyalty was so valuable, instrumental even." Kagome had been less than thrilled when he'd told her about Kiyotsugu's role in Rikuo denying his yokai side as a child, and he felt the need to explain why he still considered Kiyotsugu a good friend. Even if I probably am unworthy of such friendship…
"From what you've said, that makes sense. And…I…guess it is sufficient amends for his actions as a kid," Kagome conceded.
Any other time he'd have cracked a joke, something about her being overprotective, but his mind was too preoccupied, too focused on the rest of the story to come…the agony he'd endured…and the sins he would have to confess.
To think she was anxious about telling you the truth. Hey, jackass—why haven't you been all that worried about how she's going to react?
Because he hadn't really thought about it. Hadn't let himself think of it. Not until last night at least, and even then, not that much. He never did—he'd locked it away in a corner of his mind: things not to be remembered, and if remembered, never spoken of.
Her voice drew him out of his ruminations. "So you, Tsurara, Itaku, et cetera were on your way to Shibuya Station?"
Flesh rupturing, Fear rotting, the stench… Stop. Stop! His skin felt clammy, and his heartbeat uncomfortably fast. He swallowed hard. It's over. You can do this. "Yeah… So remember me mentioning Kyōsai? Well…"
Mind-rending agony. So much blood staining his hands. Guilt. Terrible soul-crushing guilt. Rikuo stood abruptly, startling Kagome, and began to pace restlessly. Maybe I can't do this… "Sorry. It's… Damnit…" He paused in his pacing and dragged a hand down his face. "Apologies for being presumptuous and rude, but do you have any alcohol? I'm going to need a drink—or twelve—to get through this."
Kagome's eyebrows flew up. "At seven thirty in the morning?"
"Blue eyes, it really doesn't matter what fucking time of day it is when I tell this story." He winced internally at his sharp tone but couldn't find it in himself to apologize. Nice, Rikuo. Way to be an asshole.
However, to his amazement, Kagome gave him an understanding nod and leapt up off the sofa. She fished around in her cabinets and pulled out an unopened bottle of whisky and a glass, gesturing to them. "I'm all out of sake, sorry. But I don't drink whisky, so you're welcome to as much of that as you like."
"Then why do you have it?"
Kagome rolled her eyes. "Gift from an idiot who didn't know me at all."
She returned to the sofa, and Rikuo poured some whisky in the glass, tossing back a shot—fuck proper sipping protocol—before pouring some more and rejoining her on the sofa. Though this time, he sat as far from her as physically possible.
"You don't have to tell me, you know," she said softly. She did not, however, mention his day-drinking, which surprised him somewhat. Although…given her past, she probably understands the need for coping mechanisms…healthy or otherwise.
"Yeah, I know." Rikuo took another gulp of whisky, the smoky liquor searing its way down, and set the glass on the coffee table. "Not that you're going to believe me, but I want to." He tugged at the collar of his shirt, which suddenly felt uncomfortably tight, and took a deep breath. "But, uh, can I get you to do me one favor?"
"Of course."
Gonna sound like a complete asshole… Correction. More of an asshole. But it was the only way he was going to get through it. "Don't touch me. And don't interrupt. Let me get completely finished, then say whatever you want to say or ask questions. All right?"
A blend of sympathy and sorrow filled those beautiful blue eyes, but she nodded.
The whisky was beginning to do its job of taking the edge off, so he steeled himself and plowed ahead. It was almost unbearable, rehashing easily one of the most traumatic experiences he'd had, if not the most, and that was saying something; he'd been through a lot of disturbing things. He spoke mechanically, relaying the story as if it had happened to someone else, the occasional quaver in his voice the only indication of the emotional storm raging within him.
Rikuo stared at his hands, the invisible blood on them, blood he'd never wash clean no matter how hard he tried. So many innocent girls, dead by his hands. Lives cut short because of him.
Because of you? Or because of Kyōsai? Hell, did it really fucking matter? Assigning blame wouldn't bring them back from the dead.
The whole time Kagome kept her promise, never making a sound, silent tears streaking down her face. He wished he were stronger, that he could comfort her as he spoke, but he couldn't, his own mental anguish too overwhelming for him to even begin to consider alleviating hers.
Eventually, after a startlingly short amount of time—it felt like it took an eternity—and a third of the bottle of whisky, he made it through the entirety of the incident, all the way to Fukagawa, defeating the revived Sanmoto Gorōzaemon, and the first encounter with the Gokadoin onmyoji.
A bitter laugh escaped him. "And to think that my friends were concerned about my well-being afterward. If I was okay because of the kusozu. Worried about me. What a fucking joke."
On what planet was he worthy of their concern?
Rikuo kept talking, more to himself than to Kagome, unresolved anger and self-loathing resurfacing. "I realized something later, though, because of it."
Kagome swiped her forearm across her face. "Oh?"
His stomach churned, and the whisky he'd just drunk threatened to come back up. "Some leader I am, breaking my own fucking rule about not harming humans. Hanyō or not, I am just as much of a monster any other human-murdering yokai." Rikuo looked away, staring off into the room at nothing in particular.
"No."
The sharply spoken word carried with it a prickle of reiki. Before he could react, she had snatched his chin and jerked his face around. Her eyes bored into his as she held his gaze. "Now you listen to me. 'Monsters'," Kagome spat, "like Naraku or this Kyōsai bastard do not feel guilt or remorse. Do you feel remorse? Are you sorry for what you did?"
Only every single fucking day of my life… "Yes… But if I had to go back and do it again, I wouldn't do anything differently. I would still choose to save Natsumi-chan."
"Yes, because clearly it's such an evil, 'monstrous' thing to save one's friend," Kagome retorted. "Also, am I correct in understanding that you had no desire to enter into this little game of theirs? That they attacked you—both humans and yokai?"
"Well, yes, but…"
"No buts. It's not your fault. You did what you had to. No, I'm not necessarily condoning what you did, but under the circumstances… I would have done the same thing. In fact…" Kagome twisted her lips into an unhappy smile. "By yokai standards, as the shikon miko, you could consider me just as much a monster as you. There's no telling how many yokai we killed who might not have been malicious, had they not been under the influence of the jewel shards or Naraku."
"That's different. It's not like you chose to be the shikon miko…" He trailed off, seeing where she was going with this. Damnit.
She arched an eyebrow. "And you did choose to be targeted by the Hundred Stories clan? By the Gokadoin? Speaking of…remind me later I have a question about them." He was mildly surprised she had even heard of them, but before he could ask, she'd started speaking again. "How many people, human or yokai, were irrevocably harmed—or killed—because of the jewel shards? Because I broke the shikon no tama?"
"That wasn't your fault. You didn't know that would happen," Rikuo insisted.
"And you didn't know Kyōsai had turned those girls into yokai."
"Īe. I did know. Not leading up to Shibuya station, but after… I was plenty aware." Yet you did it anyway. He poured himself more whisky, taking a swallow and then swirling the rest around in the glass absently.
Kagome was silent for a moment. Then, "So it would have been better for you to die?"
Perhaps. Rikuo shrugged, staring at the whisky.
She shifted so her body was fully facing him, and then planted her hands on her hips. "Look me in the eyes, and tell me—what would your death have solved? If you had died, would it have undone what happened to those girls? And who would have saved Natsumi-chan? Who would have stopped the Hundred Stories clan? Or Seimei?"
He frowned. "Surely someone else could have wielded Nenekirimaru and handled it."
"But you don't know that for certain." Kagome gave a long sigh. "I'm sorry this happened to you. That you went through this. It's wrong, and it's not fair. I can't say I understand completely, as my situation was different. But the second-guessing, doubting if you did the right thing, wondering what you could have done differently, done better?" She laughed lightly and looked down at her lap. "That? That, I get."
Great. Now she's hurting, because I'm an angsty asshole. Nice job, Rikuo. It was a poor attempt to lighten the mood, but he sloshed the whisky in the glass and held it out to her. "Drink?"
She glanced up and smiled slightly. "Um, yeah, gonna pass on that one. Now, if it wasn't whisky…"
Rikuo snorted. "So it's not the time of day, it's what's on offer?"
"Bingo." Then, after a short pause, she said, "I'd like to say all we can do is face what we went through, acknowledge the mistakes we made, make amends where possible, forgive ourselves, and move forward… Buuuuuut…"
Rikuo nodded. "Sounds good in theory, but the reality is it's not that simple."
"Yup. Easier said than done." Kagome shrugged nonchalantly, but shadows lingered in her eyes. "Sorry…didn't mean to go off on a tangent and interrupt."
This time he was able to muster a genuine smile. "'s'all good, blue eyes. Thanks for not thinking I'm a completely terrible person." Only mostly. "Anyway, where was I?"
"You're not a terrible person. And you were talking about going to Mt. Osore to get the reforged Nenekirimaru?"
"Right. Hey, speaking of which, you asked about the Gokadoin, the descendants of Seimei?"
Kagome had gone pale, but she shook her head, motioning for him to go on. "No, you finish first, and I'll explain later. It might not even mean anything."
Rikuo shrugged and continued his story. It took another hour and a half to reach the end, the defeat of Seimei and how he had nearly died, and he wondered belatedly if Kagome had felt as simultaneously exhausted yet relieved when she had finished. He massaged his temples tiredly.
"So…there you have it."
Kagome's eyes were the size of dinner plates. "Holy hell, Rikuo. You went through all of that when you were thirteen?"
His lips twitched. "Says the woman who time traveled and saved the world in the past at fifteen? And before you say it, no, I don't think two years make a difference."
"I'm not so sure…" She didn't speak for a moment before she asked quietly, "So how much did you tell your mom?"
"Your mom"—as in, the human family member. Because unlike Kagome, at least I have family who aren't human. "The bare minimum." He hadn't lied to her, but he also hadn't volunteered any of the more gruesome details.
Kagome nodded. "Same. I didn't want to worry her—or Sōta or jii-chan—any more than I already had."
He knew the feeling. "Uh-huh. Mom's pretty resilient, but…still. She's already had to deal with Dad's death and… Well, you know…"
"Yeah."
"Of course, considering that I spent weeks at the hanyō village to recuperate from almost dying, I guess she's probably got a pretty good idea of the things that happened," he said, giving her a wry half-grin.
She smiled. "Mama used to wash the blood out of my uniform, or when it was too mangled to mend, she'd buy me a new one. She didn't ask though."
"Nope. Just offered to listen if I ever wanted to talk."
Kagome cocked her head to one side. "Same with my mom. Kinda weird." She tapped her lips with a finger, then said, "Though, I suppose they have quite a bit in common—widowed with young children, children who went through weird supernatural circumstances…"
His grin widened. "Dealing with yokai? Though admittedly less so for your mom."
"True!" Kagome's face brightened. "I'm really looking forward to meeting your mom and the Nura clan. Gomen! I mean, um, whenever you want me to that is…"
Rikuo chuckled at the haste with which she'd qualified her statement. "You're welcome at the Nura clan house any time, blue eyes. Always."
"Oh… I… Thank you," she mumbled, averting her gaze.
They lapsed into silence for several minutes, Rikuo reflecting on just how slim the odds had to be that he'd met Kagome—a woman who was not only knowledgeable about yokai, but also wasn't afraid of them. Not to mention someone who had been through things that, while not exactly the same, were similar enough to his that she understood how he felt. And both of us bear our fair share of scars…visible and otherwise.
He didn't deserve her, that was for damn sure, but he was thankful—and shocked—as hell that she had listened to his story as he'd asked, without interrupting, and she hadn't judged him, didn't hate him for what he had done at Shibuya. Nothing would ever erase the weight of the guilt he carried, but for the first time in a long time, that burden felt a tiny bit lighter.
Do I deserve to have it lightened? He wasn't so certain, but now wasn't the time to go there. He pushed the thoughts away, back into the box in the far reaches of his mind where they belonged.
"Hey." She glanced at him, eyebrow lifting in question. "Thanks for listening."
"Thanks for telling me. You didn't have to."
Rikuo waved his hand dismissively. "We've been over that."
"So, not to change the subject but…" she began, trailing off.
"Hmm?"
"The fox on your shoulder?" Kagome asked. "That's from the matoi with Hagoromo Gitsune?"
Rikuo nodded.
Kagome bit her lip, and she looked away. Rikuo felt himself smile involuntarily. She was too cute when she wanted to say or ask something but thought like she shouldn't. Though, honestly, she ought to know by now she can speak freely around me…
"Oh, just spit it out already, blue eyes."
Her gaze snapped back to his, eyes wide. "How did you—"
She had a tell, but he had a funny feeling she wouldn't appreciate him pointing that out. So he settled on, "Lucky guess. Well?"
Pink fanned across her cheekbones. "Can… Umm… Can I see all of your matoi marks? And will you explain them?"
A welcome distraction from the past he'd just revisited. "Of course. Though…you know…if you wanted to see me shirtless"—he affected more confidence than he felt and winked at her—"all you had to do was ask."
The pink flush in her cheeks flamed to crimson, and she crossed her arms, grumbling. "You're such an ass."
Rikuo gave a genuine laugh as he shucked his shirt and turned his back so she could see the tattoo-esque matoi marks. "The first ones I ever got were these." He tapped the ones from Zen on his shoulders, explaining. "And then the snowflakes are from matoi with Tsurara. The spiral in the center was Itaku, and the sword crossed with the shakuju from Kuro."
He jolted and his voice caught in his throat as her fingers brushed his skin. But the instant he jumped, they were gone.
"I'm sorry. I should have asked."
He was thankful his reply came out steady and even. "No, it's fine, just surprised me is all. Go ahead."
Again her fingertips feathered over the markings on his back, from Zen's to Itaku's, to Kuro's. Oh, fuck… He gulped in air and tried to focus on his explanation.
"And…uh…" Shit, where had he been? "The…uh…"
The breath he had just taken left him in a rush as Kagome traced the large claw marks spanning his right side and ribcage. "These?"
"Shōei. When we fought Toryanse."
Her fingers moved to his lower back and hips, burning a path along his skin and doing a damn fine job of temporarily chasing away the lingering ghosts of his past.
"Those…uh…are from Tsuchigumo."
Rikuo heard her hum thoughtfully. "Ah, the spider webs make sense then."
A shiver racked his body as she brushed over the kitsune on his shoulder, its tails curled around his bicep. She had leaned in closer, so close that her hair tickled, and it was more than his self-control could take.
He spun around, startling her and making her gasp.
"Sorry, did I—"
Whatever she intended to ask was cut off as he crushed his mouth to hers, pulling her into his arms and snug against him. Then he released her lips, trailing kisses down her throat. Kagome's eyes fluttered shut, and she tipped her head back, a soft moan leaving her. When he kissed back up her neck and nipped at her ear, he felt her hands clench into fists and she inhaled sharply.
Looks like I'm not the only one enjoying this… he thought with a hint of smugness.
He captured Kagome's lips again with his, losing himself in her, the remnants of his earlier moodiness dissipating with her taste, her scent, the very presence of her.
Then his conscience made itself known, annoyingly insistent. Not like this. Don't use her as a distraction. Not her.
He slipped his hands to her shoulders and gently pushed away from her. Kagome was flushed and breathless, her blue eyes dark with desire, and Rikuo almost said never mind and resumed where they'd left off. But he couldn't. "Kagome, stop."
She wasn't sure why he'd stopped. Or asked her to stop.
Then he added, "This… I don't want to use you—"
"As a distraction?" she broke in. It took everything she had not to roll her eyes.
Rikuo looked taken aback. "Yes…how did you know?"
Kagome huffed, the exhale fluttering her bangs. "Really? You're not the only one who has baggage, remember? Did it occur to you that one, I might be trying to distract you, and"—here he opened his mouth, to say what, she didn't care. Instead, she ignored him and continued—"and two, that I might want this as much as you do?"
Rikuo's mouth snapped shut with an audible click.
"Seriously, Rikuo. I get it, okay, and I appreciate the hell out of the fact that you don't want a quick 'get laid and cope with the past' sort of deal." Kagome paused, lips twitching in an attempt not to smile when he made a choking noise. "But here's the thing. Unless I'm sorely mistaken, and I really, really hope I'm not… We both, um…" Now she stumbled somewhat over her words, feeling nervous tingles creep into her palms and knots forming in her gut. "Um, well, feel something for one another…so…it's not like it would just be sex…" I hope…
A slow grin spread across Rikuo's face, and he reached out to cup her cheek, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone. "Yeah?"
She nodded.
Then his expression grew serious once more, a crease forming between his brows. "Are you sure? Because the last thing I want is to take advantage of—"
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Rikuo, shut up!" she snapped, causing his chocolate-brown eyes to pop wide open. "You're the one who's been drinking, so technically I should be worried about me taking advantage of you. Are you sure? If so, knock it off with the overchivalrous self-sacrificing bullshit."
He arched an eyebrow. "'Overchivalrous'?"
Kagome glared at him. "Chivalry has its time and place, and right now is not it." Then, "Are you quite finished?"
"Blue eyes, you have any idea how sexy you are when you're all riled up?"
She wanted to be annoyed at the comment, she really did, but… When he's sitting there, with that stupid sexy smirk of his… "Jerk," she mumbled before yanking him to her and claiming his lips with hers.
There was nothing gentle or sweet or subtle about the kiss. Neither of them was handling the other with kid gloves any more, and the result was blisteringly hot. As if some spark had ignited tinder she hadn't even known was there, turning it into a raging inferno.
Somewhere on the periphery of her senses, she registered the loud chime and buzzing of a text notification from her phone. She ignored it in favor of standing up and tugging him toward her bedroom.
"Need to get that?"
"Really not a priority right now."
But instead of following her into the room, Rikuo lingered in the doorway and massaged the back of his neck, clearing his throat.
Please, kami, don't tell me he's having second thoughts. Or trying to be chivalrous. Again.
"So…uh…not to throw a wrench in things, but you don't happen to have any condoms, do you?"
Oh thank fuck that's all it is… Kagome did her best to keep a straight face. "What, are you telling me you don't carry one in your wallet like every other guy?"
Somehow he managed to simultaneously look chagrined and frown at her as he walked in and sat down on the bed beside her. "Blue eyes, what about me gave you the impression that I'm like other guys?"
She couldn't hold back this time, grinning. "A valid point…" Kagome shifted around so she was sitting in his lap, legs astride his waist, and for a moment, she thought his eyes might roll back in his head when she rolled her hips slightly. In this position, there was no disguising his rather impressive hard-on, and that, as well as his strangled curse when she ran a hand down his abs to undo his belt and jeans, filled her with no small amount of pride.
However, as much fun as teasing him was, it affected her too, and her patience was wearing thin.
Kagome leaned forward and kissed along his jawline, murmuring, "No condoms, but I'm on birth control, and I'm clean… So…if you're also clean…" She let the question linger in the air as she inched his zipper down with painstaking deliberateness.
A fraction of a second later, with breath-taking speed, she found herself on her back, Rikuo—now sans jeans—above her, one side of his mouth curved in his signature sexy grin. He kissed her full and hard on the mouth before moving his lips to her ear. "Totally clean, blue eyes. In fact, you're more than welcome to ask Zen."
Between the kisses and borderline not-so-gentle bites along the curve of her neck, Kagome was having a hard time thinking. "Z-zen?" she managed to get out on a gasp as Rikuo pulled the straps of her bra off her shoulder with his teeth.
"He's my doctor?"
"Oh… No, I—ah! I, um, oh gods…"
"Problems?" He glanced up, and the smile he gave her was utterly unrepentant.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "The only problem we're going to have, Sandaime, is if you keep talking about Zen. Or did you want me to think about another man while I'm in bed with you?"
"Tch." One eyebrow twitched, and the hands on her hips tightened. "No."
She'd expected him to say something more, pop back with some kind of clever quip. Instead, he ceased talking and seemed to be more intent on responding to her snarky comment by banishing all thoughts from her mind, Zen or otherwise.
As he removed her remaining clothes with maddening meticulousness, his fingertips traced meaningless patterns on her skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake. Nervous energy skittered across her, and her breathing hitched. Teeth grazing sensitive flesh, he bit down gently, and she gasped again, grabbing his hair almost involuntarily.
A low chuckle. "Ho? Like that do you?"
Not waiting for an answer, he repeated the action, and a moan escaped her throat. Like? Understatement…
With teeth, lips, and tongue, he moved languidly down her body, teasing and tasting, and her hands left his hair to clench in the sheets. Tiny whimpers mixed with quiet moans as sensations built and tension coiled tighter, her back arching off the bed with a cry when the orgasm finally ripped through her.
Kagome had barely come down from the high of the first when the combination of well-placed fingers and a talented tongue rocketed her straight into the second climax. A string of garbled "Ohh, kami," and "holy hell, yesss…"and similar phrases left her.
She was still breathless when he slid up the bed to lie next to her, wearing a smug, self-satisfied grin, propping up on one arm. In response, Kagome curved her lips mischievously and pushed him onto his back. She straddled him, and they both groaned in mutual pleasure at the feeling as she sank down on him.
"Oh, fuck, Kagome." His hands gripped her hips, and it wasn't long before they were both panting.
"Like that do you?" she asked impishly.
He only smirked in response and, taking advantage of her slowed movements, snuck his hand in between them. She made a small surprised noise as his fingers found her clit, a sound that quickly morphed into a low hum of appreciation.
So glad I don't have a roommate, Kagome thought, before Rikuo finally succeeded in rendering her completely incapable of coherent thought.
Later, they lay in a boneless tangle of limbs, both deliciously sated.
"That was…"
"Awesome?"
"I was going to say amazing, but sure, awesome works." Then she added, "This is totally going to inflate that ego of yours, isn't it?"
Rikuo snorted. "And it won't with yours?"
Kagome sat up slightly and rolled to her side so she could glare at him properly. "Did you just imply that I'm arrogant?"
He grinned. "I distinctly recall telling you it isn't arrogance if it's true. And no, for the record, you are anything but arrogant. In fact, I think you could stand to be a little more confident. You're impressive as hell, and no, I'm not referring to your skills in bed." Then he ran his gaze up and down her body lasciviously. "Though you won't hear any complaints from me, that's for damn sure."
Kagome smacked him on the chest, eliciting a mingled "oof" and snicker. "Thank you? I think?" She shook her head. "Typical man."
"Oi, thought we'd established that I'm not typical?"
She ignored him, despite the fact that he was right. He was far from normal or average, by either human or yokai standards. "Anyway, I suppose I should probably see who texted me earlier."
Rikuo made no move to get up, so she retrieved her phone from the living room and returned, slipping back into bed next to him.
Damn, that's a nice ass…
When Kagome crawled back in bed, he snagged her by the waist and pulled her flush up against him, enjoying the way she felt in his arms.
Head resting on his chest, she fiddled with her phone for a second and then groaned out loud.
"Everything okay, blue eyes?"
She held up her phone so he could see it.
Natsumi: Apparently Rikuo-kun didn't come home last night. Know anything about that? ;-)
He barked a laugh. "I swear, never in my life did I expect yokai to be such gossips…"
Kagome giggled. "Yeah, well, I'm sure Natsumi-chan fits right in. Though I don't know if this is as much gossip as her matchmaking tendencies…"
Before he could speculate, the sounds of text notifications came from both of their phones, halting that particular train of thought. Kagome moved slightly so he could lean over to grab his out of his jeans, which were still on the floor, and when he sat up, he saw Kagome's jaw drop open.
Rikuo assumed it was Natsumi again. "What did she say now?"
She opened and closed her mouth a couple times, before finally saying, "It's not from her… It's an apology…from Ryūji."
"For what?" The words came out harsher than he'd intended, but Kagome didn't seem to have noticed.
"Well…several things. Honestly, he's been a royal pain in my ass."
That wasn't anything out of the ordinary for Ryūji, nor would it explain why the onmyoji had apologized. But she said 'several things,' which implies it's more than just standard Ryūji bullshit. "Such as what kind of things?"
She explained everything, ending with Ryūji's most recent visit to her campus. Once he'd heard all of it, Rikuo's blood was boiling. That manipulative son of a bitch… Why am I just now hearing about this? "You didn't mention this when we talked on Friday."
Kagome shifted uncomfortably, her gaze darting away from his. "Um… That's because…" Her shoulders slumped as she sighed. "Because I hadn't told you the truth yet, and it would've been difficult to explain why his snooping around and pestering me was such a problem."
Rikuo shook his head. "Whether you're the shikon miko or not is irrelevant. What he did is wrong—and would still be wrong if all you were was an innocent college student with no firsthand knowledge of yokai. I admit I crossed the line myself some when I first checked up on you to see if you were a threat to the clan, and I'm sorry for that—"
Kagome cut in. "I already told you I understood why you did that."
She had, but he still felt the need to apologize under the circumstances. "But Ryūji can't use that as an excuse—a miko is hardly a threat to an onmyoji. His actions were—are—unacceptable…and he knows better." And I'm going to fucking kill him.
"I guess I was so focused on keeping everything hidden and kinda just chalked it up to the fact that he's an asshole." Kagome shrugged. "Oh well. He apologized, so what's done is done. As long as he doesn't keep doing it, I mean."
"Seriously? That's it? You're just going to let it slide?"
"I wouldn't say I'm letting it slide so much as I'm not going out of my way to punish him. He's not worth my time or energy." Kagome smiled when Rikuo just stared at her. Though, given what she's told me about her time in the Sengoku era, she seems to have a track record for being overly forgiving.
"Besides…" she added. "Don't we sort of need to play nice with him for the purposes of your investigation?"
"Tch. I guess so…" Rikuo said grudgingly. "Speaking of which…" He gestured with his cell phone. "He wants the three of us to meet tonight."
Kagome nodded. "That's fine. I have to swing by the cat sanctuary and take care of evening feeding and stuff, but then I'm free."
Rikuo thought for a moment, and then a grin slowly spread across his face. "I was planning to take you to the Bakenekoya last night… And going there would irritate the shit out of Ryūji, so what if—"
"Yes. Without question, yes. Call me petty, but nothing would make me happier."
He laughed. Annoying Ryūji and making Kagome happy all in one fell swoop? Sign me the fuck up. "Well, then, your wish is my command. But what happened to not going out of your way to punish him?"
Kagome's expression was pure feigned innocence, minus the mischievous gleam in her eyes, that is. "Why, Rikuo, I don't know what you mean. I'm simply agreeing to go to a place you suggested." She batted her eyelashes exaggeratedly. "How ever was I to know it was a yokai restaurant that an onmyoji might not enjoy?"
Then she stuck her tongue out and made gagging noises. "Sorry. That's about all I can stomach of playing the vacuous ingénue."
"Perhaps because you are the furthest thing from vacuous? A good effort, though," he said, grinning.
"Well, if I'm going to be of any help with this investigation, you'd best fill me in on everything you know. And I don't mean the edited 'we're writing a book' version," she said, a playful smile tugging at her lips.
"Hey, I didn't edit it because I didn't trust you or didn't think you could handle—" His protest was cut short by her pressing her hand over his mouth.
"I know. I never said you did. It was what worked for the time and place. Plus—" This time Kagome interrupted herself, letting out an indignant squeak when he licked her palm. "Rikuo! What are you, five?"
He laughed. Even with her feigned glare. And then laughed harder when she wiped her hand on his bare chest.
"Good grief, it's not that funny." She huffed. "Are you going to fill me in or what?"
Yup, my feisty miko's gonna fit right in with the rest of the clan…
Footnotes:
1. Per the manga, Nenekirimaru is a taimatō—a demon exorcism sword—"it is a sword infused with the spirit of onmyoji…it was created in such a way that it gains power each time it cuts through spirits." And though it can cut humans, it cannot mortally wound them.
2. Matoi is a technique originating with the Second, Rihan, and used by both Rihan and Rikuo, one that only a hyakki yakō leader who is part-yokai/part-human can use. It involves a member of their hyakki yakō releasing their Fear and then the leader "equips" or "wears" their Fear. It requires trust on the part of both parties. Tattoo-like marks appear on the user's back as a result (some of which I've had to take artistic liberties with since we don't see them with every matoi, unfortunately).
Author's note(s):
It took me a damn year to do it, but I finally got them laid. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go hide and die of mortification...