Disclaimer: Not mine! WAAAH!!!!
Chapter Three ~ Running Away
She wasn't aware of how long they'd been walking. Sesshoumaru never complained, his steps never wavering. She stumbled along, Tetsusaiga still lashed awkwardly to her waist, and glanced around at the surrounding trees. Grabbing her companion's wrist, she tugged the youkai lord into the shade of a nearby golden oak, obviously exhausted.
"Have you decided where we're going yet?" Sesshoumaru inquired flatly.
She yawned, stretching. "I need to gather all the jewel shards so I can fix the Feudal Era. After that...I suppose I'll go home and forget about everyone here. They already know I'd be staying for about a year in the Sengoku Jidai, since things are becoming more hectic. Without me, there's no one to activate the rosary. Won't that be nice?" Her smile was strained and fleeting.
"What about the Tetsusaiga?" he demanded, glancing longingly at the rusted katana.
"You can't hold it yet, so if things don't work out I'll take it home as a relic of...the hanyou."
His keen ears didn't miss the crucial word. "I can't hold it *yet*?"
Kagome stood, drawing the blade out of its sheath. "Let's try an experiment," she offered, holding out the hilt to him. "I won't lift my own hand from the blade. Technically, a human and taiyoukai combined should equalize a hanyou's power and blood."
Cautiously, Sesshoumaru wrapped his hand firmly around the hilt, amazed when he wasn't rejected. The glow spiraled upwards, revealing the giant fang of his father's. Inspecting the finely edged tip, he gave it a practice run, twisting it expertly.
Naturally, Kagome hadn't expected the move. So she did what most people would do: she dropped the hilt.
Which resulted in a very annoyed youkai lord being enveloped in electricity.
"Heh...um...sorry about that!" Kagome chirped, running over to lift the Tetsusaiga from the ground. "Perhaps this idea needs some more work."
"Perhaps," he agreed sarcastically, moving away.
She ran after him, freezing suddenly. "Sesshoumaru, wait!" she called, and he turned, confused. "There's two jewel shards approaching...at an impossibly fast rate...oh, damnit." Realizing who it was, Kagome cowered behind the taiyoukai, who looked annoyed and amused at the same time.
As usual, Kouga materialized with his whirlwind of dust, sliding just in front of Sesshoumaru. "So, Kagome's ditched you, eh? Wait, that's her scent I'm getting." He clasped Kagome's wrist and yanked her out from behind the youkai lord.
"Kouga, what are you doing?" the exasperated girl snapped.
"Seeing as Inukkuro ditched you," the wolf explained, and Sesshoumaru saw the pain in her azure eyes, "I thought I'd come to take you away."
"Sorry, Kouga, but I still have to gather all the jewel shards before I 'go' with anyone," she replied calmly.
He winced. "In that case, I thought you'd like to have these," he offered holding out his hand.
The jewel shards glimmered faintly as she lifted them.
"Kouga...don't you need these to protect your pack?"
He shook his head. "We're moving in with Ayame's group," he replied. "I'm going to keep my ancient promise to her, seeing as you obviously don't need me." Flashing her a crooked, half-hearted smile, the wolf added, "You know where to find me if you ever need me."
She nodded, and watched quietly as the youkai walked slowly away, his head downcast.
*
"You're going to have to train me, Sesshoumaru," Kagome remarked matter-of- factly as she reclined in the shade.
He glanced over at her doubtfully. "Train you in what?"
"Wielding a blade, naturally," she retorted.
"And why would you need to know that?"
She shrugged. "I have my own reasons," she said quietly, and he didn't question her further.
Giving her an appraising look, he motioned. "Come on, then."
Squealing, for all the world like a young girl who'd just received a birthday present from her older brother, Kagome raced over, hugged the astonished taiyoukai around the waist, and drew out the Tetsusaiga. He watched, amused, as she swung the katana around and ended up nearly decapitating herself.
"You don't want to practice with an actual sword," he admonished, picking up a branch and tossing it over to her. "Here, try this." Holding her wrist, he demonstrated the flexibility needed for the seemingly simple parries and maneuvers used often in battle.
Concentrating, she rotated her arm carefully, still clasping tightly to the stick. He offered her advice on her grip, showing her how to hold the sword loosely so that a strong blow from the opponent wouldn't shock her or possibly snap her wrist.
*
The first few days weren't easy. Kagome tried to ignore the blisters swelling on her once delicate palms, though they stung each time she touched something. Sesshoumaru let her practice with Tensaiga, since there was no chance of her cutting herself with the healing blade, and he noticed that the hilt was often covered in blood from her hands each night, but he said nothing.
Calluses began developing afterwards, so that she encountered only minimal pain. Her techniques improved gracefully, and one night Sesshoumaru was awakened from her footsteps away from their campsite.
He followed her, watching silently as she practiced in the moonlight, her movements a dance. Tetsusaiga, unsheathed but not transformed, glittered like a beacon. She slashed forward, then darted back, the starlight shining on her midnight hair.
He didn't disturb the nighttime scene before him; didn't dare move, lest she hear and stop. Throwing herself into a roll with her blade firmly tucked by her side – a defensive move she'd recently perfected – Kagome uncurled as soon as her feet touched the ground and brought the katana before her, steadily standing without a hint of fear.
And then, without any emotion, she said quietly, "You can come out now, Sesshoumaru."
He stepped forward, Tensaiga already unsheathed. Together, they wove a mesmerizing ballet, their movements synchronized. She blocked each of his thrusts and countered with her own; after both had grown tired, they lay down in the dewy grass and counted the stars.
And Sesshoumaru, for the first time, felt like he belonged.
He no longer held a stubborn urge to harm the girl sleeping next to him. Brushing her raven bangs out of her ethereal face, he studied her intently. Thought her eyes were closed, he could still picture them, the exquisite pools of sapphire holding his heart.
Looking at the Tetsusaiga, he realized he no longer had a need for the thing. Certainly, he respected it, since it was a part of his father, but if he'd been offered a choice between Kagome and the blade, there was no doubt in his mind of his choice.
Perhaps it was merely an infatuation, since she'd been the first girl to accept him fully. Others courted him for the endless wealth or the handsome, cold face on the toned body, but she cared. She could gaze into his mind, and he found himself envying Inuyasha, for he was certain that the bastard still held Kagome's love.
Sighing, he dropped off to sleep beside the girl.
*
She always woke up earlier than he did, and she propped herself up on one elbow, studying him. The arrogant beauty, the finely sculpted face, the intelligence and swordsmanship – all those were there, but it was what lay beyond that drew her to him.
Inuyasha was only a blurred shadow in her mind now. The months had soared by, summer passing into the red-gold splendor of autumn. Now that she reminisced about her past feelings, she couldn't remember why she'd even cared for the rude, brash, cocky, childish...well, those were enough adjectives.
Sesshoumaru only smiled in his sleep. She'd noticed that often, and wondered what he dreamed about. Had she been able to peer inside the taiyoukai's mind, she would have been relatively surprised at what she found.
'He cannot love,' she thought, running one finger down his marble cheek. 'He cannot love, but I can.'
*
*Sesshoumaru's dream*
He is searching for something, or perhaps someone, in the bleak, desolate landscape surrounding him. Dying shrubs are the only indication of the once- alive world which has now faded into nothingness.
He turns, his heart calling out a silent plea for her to come. She hears the plea, for the faintest streak of color, vibrant and brilliant, spreads towards him. It is his refuge; he clings to that shred of happiness in the darkness.
And then she comes, her laughter ringing gaily in his ears, ears which have heard only the cries of warfare. He watches as she races towards him, the long raven strands of her mane flowing behind her, and the smile curved upon her lips created just for him. The white robe she is girded in flows in the wind, and everywhere she passes, the flowers spring up.
White, the color of purity, of innocence, of beauty. He doesn't move, fearing that the slightest motion will chase this angelic form away, but she continues to approach. In one hand, she bears a sword, stained with the blood of millions; the other holds a single rose, its pale petals clinging to the stem though the wind threatens to tear them away.
She is near enough now that she can touch him, and she offers her hands. He glances down at them, the symbol of healing and the symbol of death. He does not fear death, but he fears to betray the emotions he feels.
He fears to be healed.
His cowardice shocks him, and he instinctively reaches out to the blade, but recoils. Fear is not something to be physically battled; he needs to face it, prevent it from consuming him.
So he reaches out to the rose.
Then she is laughing again, and she leans upwards, pressing herself to him. Knowing he has made the correct choice, he wraps his arm around her waist, and they walk away in the springtime meadow, the rose clasped between their hands.
Behind them, the sword lies forgotten on the ground.
Isn't that sweet? Perhaps a trifle short, but oh well...review! ~Wolfshade
Chapter Three ~ Running Away
She wasn't aware of how long they'd been walking. Sesshoumaru never complained, his steps never wavering. She stumbled along, Tetsusaiga still lashed awkwardly to her waist, and glanced around at the surrounding trees. Grabbing her companion's wrist, she tugged the youkai lord into the shade of a nearby golden oak, obviously exhausted.
"Have you decided where we're going yet?" Sesshoumaru inquired flatly.
She yawned, stretching. "I need to gather all the jewel shards so I can fix the Feudal Era. After that...I suppose I'll go home and forget about everyone here. They already know I'd be staying for about a year in the Sengoku Jidai, since things are becoming more hectic. Without me, there's no one to activate the rosary. Won't that be nice?" Her smile was strained and fleeting.
"What about the Tetsusaiga?" he demanded, glancing longingly at the rusted katana.
"You can't hold it yet, so if things don't work out I'll take it home as a relic of...the hanyou."
His keen ears didn't miss the crucial word. "I can't hold it *yet*?"
Kagome stood, drawing the blade out of its sheath. "Let's try an experiment," she offered, holding out the hilt to him. "I won't lift my own hand from the blade. Technically, a human and taiyoukai combined should equalize a hanyou's power and blood."
Cautiously, Sesshoumaru wrapped his hand firmly around the hilt, amazed when he wasn't rejected. The glow spiraled upwards, revealing the giant fang of his father's. Inspecting the finely edged tip, he gave it a practice run, twisting it expertly.
Naturally, Kagome hadn't expected the move. So she did what most people would do: she dropped the hilt.
Which resulted in a very annoyed youkai lord being enveloped in electricity.
"Heh...um...sorry about that!" Kagome chirped, running over to lift the Tetsusaiga from the ground. "Perhaps this idea needs some more work."
"Perhaps," he agreed sarcastically, moving away.
She ran after him, freezing suddenly. "Sesshoumaru, wait!" she called, and he turned, confused. "There's two jewel shards approaching...at an impossibly fast rate...oh, damnit." Realizing who it was, Kagome cowered behind the taiyoukai, who looked annoyed and amused at the same time.
As usual, Kouga materialized with his whirlwind of dust, sliding just in front of Sesshoumaru. "So, Kagome's ditched you, eh? Wait, that's her scent I'm getting." He clasped Kagome's wrist and yanked her out from behind the youkai lord.
"Kouga, what are you doing?" the exasperated girl snapped.
"Seeing as Inukkuro ditched you," the wolf explained, and Sesshoumaru saw the pain in her azure eyes, "I thought I'd come to take you away."
"Sorry, Kouga, but I still have to gather all the jewel shards before I 'go' with anyone," she replied calmly.
He winced. "In that case, I thought you'd like to have these," he offered holding out his hand.
The jewel shards glimmered faintly as she lifted them.
"Kouga...don't you need these to protect your pack?"
He shook his head. "We're moving in with Ayame's group," he replied. "I'm going to keep my ancient promise to her, seeing as you obviously don't need me." Flashing her a crooked, half-hearted smile, the wolf added, "You know where to find me if you ever need me."
She nodded, and watched quietly as the youkai walked slowly away, his head downcast.
*
"You're going to have to train me, Sesshoumaru," Kagome remarked matter-of- factly as she reclined in the shade.
He glanced over at her doubtfully. "Train you in what?"
"Wielding a blade, naturally," she retorted.
"And why would you need to know that?"
She shrugged. "I have my own reasons," she said quietly, and he didn't question her further.
Giving her an appraising look, he motioned. "Come on, then."
Squealing, for all the world like a young girl who'd just received a birthday present from her older brother, Kagome raced over, hugged the astonished taiyoukai around the waist, and drew out the Tetsusaiga. He watched, amused, as she swung the katana around and ended up nearly decapitating herself.
"You don't want to practice with an actual sword," he admonished, picking up a branch and tossing it over to her. "Here, try this." Holding her wrist, he demonstrated the flexibility needed for the seemingly simple parries and maneuvers used often in battle.
Concentrating, she rotated her arm carefully, still clasping tightly to the stick. He offered her advice on her grip, showing her how to hold the sword loosely so that a strong blow from the opponent wouldn't shock her or possibly snap her wrist.
*
The first few days weren't easy. Kagome tried to ignore the blisters swelling on her once delicate palms, though they stung each time she touched something. Sesshoumaru let her practice with Tensaiga, since there was no chance of her cutting herself with the healing blade, and he noticed that the hilt was often covered in blood from her hands each night, but he said nothing.
Calluses began developing afterwards, so that she encountered only minimal pain. Her techniques improved gracefully, and one night Sesshoumaru was awakened from her footsteps away from their campsite.
He followed her, watching silently as she practiced in the moonlight, her movements a dance. Tetsusaiga, unsheathed but not transformed, glittered like a beacon. She slashed forward, then darted back, the starlight shining on her midnight hair.
He didn't disturb the nighttime scene before him; didn't dare move, lest she hear and stop. Throwing herself into a roll with her blade firmly tucked by her side – a defensive move she'd recently perfected – Kagome uncurled as soon as her feet touched the ground and brought the katana before her, steadily standing without a hint of fear.
And then, without any emotion, she said quietly, "You can come out now, Sesshoumaru."
He stepped forward, Tensaiga already unsheathed. Together, they wove a mesmerizing ballet, their movements synchronized. She blocked each of his thrusts and countered with her own; after both had grown tired, they lay down in the dewy grass and counted the stars.
And Sesshoumaru, for the first time, felt like he belonged.
He no longer held a stubborn urge to harm the girl sleeping next to him. Brushing her raven bangs out of her ethereal face, he studied her intently. Thought her eyes were closed, he could still picture them, the exquisite pools of sapphire holding his heart.
Looking at the Tetsusaiga, he realized he no longer had a need for the thing. Certainly, he respected it, since it was a part of his father, but if he'd been offered a choice between Kagome and the blade, there was no doubt in his mind of his choice.
Perhaps it was merely an infatuation, since she'd been the first girl to accept him fully. Others courted him for the endless wealth or the handsome, cold face on the toned body, but she cared. She could gaze into his mind, and he found himself envying Inuyasha, for he was certain that the bastard still held Kagome's love.
Sighing, he dropped off to sleep beside the girl.
*
She always woke up earlier than he did, and she propped herself up on one elbow, studying him. The arrogant beauty, the finely sculpted face, the intelligence and swordsmanship – all those were there, but it was what lay beyond that drew her to him.
Inuyasha was only a blurred shadow in her mind now. The months had soared by, summer passing into the red-gold splendor of autumn. Now that she reminisced about her past feelings, she couldn't remember why she'd even cared for the rude, brash, cocky, childish...well, those were enough adjectives.
Sesshoumaru only smiled in his sleep. She'd noticed that often, and wondered what he dreamed about. Had she been able to peer inside the taiyoukai's mind, she would have been relatively surprised at what she found.
'He cannot love,' she thought, running one finger down his marble cheek. 'He cannot love, but I can.'
*
*Sesshoumaru's dream*
He is searching for something, or perhaps someone, in the bleak, desolate landscape surrounding him. Dying shrubs are the only indication of the once- alive world which has now faded into nothingness.
He turns, his heart calling out a silent plea for her to come. She hears the plea, for the faintest streak of color, vibrant and brilliant, spreads towards him. It is his refuge; he clings to that shred of happiness in the darkness.
And then she comes, her laughter ringing gaily in his ears, ears which have heard only the cries of warfare. He watches as she races towards him, the long raven strands of her mane flowing behind her, and the smile curved upon her lips created just for him. The white robe she is girded in flows in the wind, and everywhere she passes, the flowers spring up.
White, the color of purity, of innocence, of beauty. He doesn't move, fearing that the slightest motion will chase this angelic form away, but she continues to approach. In one hand, she bears a sword, stained with the blood of millions; the other holds a single rose, its pale petals clinging to the stem though the wind threatens to tear them away.
She is near enough now that she can touch him, and she offers her hands. He glances down at them, the symbol of healing and the symbol of death. He does not fear death, but he fears to betray the emotions he feels.
He fears to be healed.
His cowardice shocks him, and he instinctively reaches out to the blade, but recoils. Fear is not something to be physically battled; he needs to face it, prevent it from consuming him.
So he reaches out to the rose.
Then she is laughing again, and she leans upwards, pressing herself to him. Knowing he has made the correct choice, he wraps his arm around her waist, and they walk away in the springtime meadow, the rose clasped between their hands.
Behind them, the sword lies forgotten on the ground.
Isn't that sweet? Perhaps a trifle short, but oh well...review! ~Wolfshade