Title: Mockingbird
Summary: A little birdie told her so.
Note: My first true Kagome/Kohaku... I am so proud!
Disclaimer: My socks are pink.
Dedication: For Numisma, because she told me to.
She knows what is real.
She knows that in winter there is no sun, in summer there is no ice, and that in autumn it might rain and probably will.
But she also knows that she has a fear of the dark and that she doesn't like being lied to.
But still, she lets them lie anyways, because they are her friends, and she needs them, just as much as they need her.
Even still, she turns away, unsure, and plucks a flower out of the ground, waiting for the chill to stop dancing along her skin and for the guilt to creep up on her, making her choose between what is right and what she wants.
She doesn't like to think herself selfish anyhow.
"Yes," she says, and for a moment, she regrets it, but then her friend is placing a hand upon her back, thanking her, and she knows that it is not winter, autumn, or spring, but summer, and even through the heat, there can be ice, despite the fact that she doesn't want it.
But she doesn't want this, either, and she hates the way it makes her feel inside.
"Thank you, Kagome-chan," her friend says, worried but happy and wanting to leave.
She tries to be angry, and the flower is crushed in her hand, but still, she turns to her and smiles, feeling truly useless.
"You didn't need to ask, Sango-chan."
Sango smiles again, hestitantly, and pets the tiny cat in her arms, looking past Kagome and into the horizon, and Kagome wonders.
She wonders if the fear is as deep and resounding as it seems to be. She wonders if, through the night, she can see to the horizon, if she can see through the seasons, but Sango is already leaving, and for once, she feels no bitterness for the frightened girl.
But through herself, she knows something is wrong.
"Well then, we should be going," Kagome murmurs, looking at the dying flower in her hand.
She refuses to look at the boy next to her, refuses to meet his eyes because in them, she can see his torment, and in them, she knows that she could never survive.
In them, she knows what is real, and it frightens her.
"Do you like flowers, Kagome-sama?"
She looks past him then, at the darkness of his hair, at the freckles on his face, and knows that she is a coward.
"They're pretty."
He nods, and silently pries the flower from her white fingers, watching in disinterest as the yellow petals fall pathetically to the ground.
"They lie, you know," he says calmly, and he pulls another flower from the ground and watches it, refusing to meet her eyes, "They're just pretending."
"Yes, well, everyone needs to pretend," Kagome says, and turns away, feeling the heat melt into ice and bitter, thick despair.
"But even pretty things can't protect themselves, Kagome-sama, even pretty things are weak. So they're lying about that, too, then."
She leaves then, as well, because even though he is pretty, he is strong, and lives through the winter, like most flowers struggle to do.
And she knows what is real and what is fake, and he is both, and it worries her.
But still, he follows her, blindly, because he doesn't want to be alone, either.
And because she knows that, just like her, they'll lie to him, too, and it makes him angry.
"I wish she wasn't so afraid," he says quietly, but she has no answer and refuses to give him any.
And even though she can hear him, the birds refuse to sing, and redemption is frozen in the flower that refuses to break through the heat and bloom in death.
She knows the taste of fear.
Because even though the days are silent and the nights are long, he needs comfort. And she is afraid to go to him; she is afraid to place her hand against his sweaty skin and blistering back to stop the nightmares.
She is afraid of his eyes and his voice and his hands because through them, she knows that he is real, but in her mind, she knows that he is not and it confuses her.
But still, she moves to him and she watches him, wishing that she could make it better.
Wishes that the fear and beauty would die and be replaced with strength and ugliness because through it, she can see him and herself, and she knows that the winter will crush them both.
But that, too, is a lie, and it makes her wonder.
She can feel his eyes on her, and she knows that he is wondering what it would be like to touch her scars, to watch them fester and ooze and break and if they'll ever come back.
"Kagome-sama?"
She listens, knowing that the truth won't disappear, and is thankful for it.
"Yes, Kohaku-kun?"
She doesn't like his name, either, because it means that he is real and the seasons can't change him. But she wants him to change, just as she has changed, through the lies.
Because they cause her skeletons to dance and her soul to burn through sin and hate and the redemption that continues to dance at the end of the seasons, fading into the next.
"Will they come back?"
She thinks she cares, sometimes, whether or not they will be there, but at other times she knows that it is a lost cause to think about what is and what could be because they have no regrets, but she still has the strength to hope.
She can see him, and he is tracing his fingers along the bandages on her thighs, wondering, like her, if the heat will fade or if the infection will spread, causing her lungs to ache, and if, finally, she will be able to understand his torment.
She would like to think it would.
But she knows, just as she knows other things, that it will not, and that he will hate her.
"When - when they finish, yes, they will come back."
She can see him, out of the corner of her eye, and he is sad, because he, too, cannot find the strength to look at her. Because he too, is afraid of her torment, knows that it is slowly festering inside of her. Because he knows that she wanted to be with them, regrets being too weak to help, and the bandages around her thigh let her know how worthless she truly is.
But she would like to think that he is wrong, even though she knows that he is right.
"You're prettier when you tell the truth," Kohaku answers and curls her hair around his fingers.
She waits for a moment, looking out towards the forest where the seasons first started to change, and wants to fall back into the story.
"Kohaku-"
"We all have our secrets, Kagome-sama," he says quietly, pressing his face into her shoulder, "But sometimes, secrets and lies are better left undone."
She knows that is the truth, and falls from her ledge, gripping it tightly.
"And what are yours, Kohaku-kun?"
He knows she is greedy, he knows that she has needs, but he has his too, and he refuses be left alone.
"Don't run without me, Kagome-sama," he says simply, and for the first time, she looks at him.
Because he is real, and she knows what fear is.
And there is fear in his eyes, in his words, but she can't make any promises.
Because she doesn't like lies, but she doesn't like the truth either.
He smiles into her silence, and she is sorry, but she never wanted to atone anyhow, and he won't let her.
And when he looks at her, she can see the fear twisting through his hollowed, brittle bones and his truths cause her skeletons to crumble and the ash to dirty her hands, making her weep.
She knows how to speak.
She knows that, like him, she can be as cruel and as wicked and as hateful, but unlike him, she knows that they are just words, and words are useless.
And she knows, just like him, that his silence hurts her, but she doesn't understand why.
She can touch him now, can feel his skin under hers, but the wind is still cold and icy, and he is still brittle and broken because they lied, and she let them. She wants to think that it wasn't her fault, but like many other things, she knows that it is a lie.
Her truths are prettier, he says, but all she can see is the ugliness inside.
He told her to walk today, because that is the only way for her to heal, but like most days, she refuses to listen. She can see his anger, his annoyance, but still she clings to the fabric of her warmth, not wanting to let go, not wanting to be crushed beneath a world of hate, lies, and destruction.
But he pulls her to her feet anyways, and she looks at his eyes, wishing he were weaker.
"Kagome-sama," Kohaku says impatiently, and she wants to touch his face and feel his skin, but he refuses to let her and moves away, "Kagome-sama."
She can hear her name coming from his lips; she can hear his voice and she knows that she likes to hear it, needs to hear it, just like he needs it.
But she knows it makes them both weak, and soon, the winter will crush her, leaving him behind.
"Kohaku-kun," she says, just for him, and she can see him smile, just as she can see many things through the eyes that aren't hers, or the voice that'll change and disappear.
She can see the things she knows, and she knows that words will mean nothing.
"You want to heal, don't you?"
He is scared and worried, but she doesn't want him to be, so she moves closer - always closer - because she won't leave, not like they did, and she will let him keep up because she wants him to.
She likes touching him now, likes knowing that he is real, even though in her mind he isn't, because no one can survive the darkness and the winter like he can; no one can bloom in death and taste the lies, but he has and he can protect her.
But she is nothing but a weak little birdie anyways, and the flowers rain down on her, drowning her in prettiness.
"Kohaku-kun," she says again and wraps her fingers around his, "I can't keep up."
And he is pressing back into her, just like he always does, just like she always wants him to, and the bitterness she knows he feels is pressing into her as well, seeking comfort from the rain.
She lies then, and he knows it, but he wants her to anyways.
"I think I can wait for you," he says, and he grabs her hand, leading her from the tiny hut. But her legs are sore and bleeding and she tumbles, like she always does, and she knows that he is hurting her more than he is healing her.
But Kagome is glad because then they will leave again, and she can stay with his truths and his torment and his hatred of their lies.
But sometimes, she wonders why he lets her lie.
Why he lets her keep her secrets.
"Kagome-sama," he says again, and she can see him as he stares blindly at the blood that is soaking her bandages, wonders why she can only seem to stay in one place.
"Can you wait for me, Kagome-sama?"
"You run too fast," Kagome answers, and glances back towards the hut. She knows that in there, they will both stand still and neither will move, and she likes it better because it's only the seasons that will change, even though she needs it.
"I wouldn't leave," Kohaku says simply, and Kagome knows it is the truth.
But sometimes, she would like him to lie, if only for a moment, so she wouldn't feel so alone. She doesn't like being alone anyways, and she can see the birds remaining silent in the distance.
She wonders if they, too, know that words are useless and fake.
She wonders if they, too, know that words are just lies and if they hurt them as much as they hurt her.
But his silence hurts her too, and she doesn't understand.
She nods; she knows what to say but doesn't want to say it, and he lifts her to her feet, and leads her back into the hut.
And still they keep their secrets, because it's all they can hold on to.
"I think you can heal," he says and he peels the bandages from her naked leg, not wanting her to.
"Kohaku-kun," she murmurs, and she can see his smile, loves him for it.
"But I don't think you want to," he answers and cleans up her blood, stares in her eyes.
Because in her eyes, he knows her torment, and in that torment there is a secret, one that she knows she must hide, otherwise he might not want to stay.
She knows that she needs him to stay, because she doesn't want to be alone either.
"Don't worry, Kagome-sama, I won't let them know," and his fingers curl in her hair, and pull her closer, holding her tight and close and never wanting her to leave.
"But honestly, I think you like their lies, Kagome-sama."
He knows that she is real; she knows that he is real, but in their minds there is something missing, and he comforts her.
"No, no," Kagome replies, shakes her head, "That's not it."
"Then what is it?"
But she doesn't answer, and he didn't expect her to.
But she can feel him, being gentle, staying with her, and the bandages are wrapping around her bleeding wound, and then he is pressing against her, like he always does, and she is pressing into him, just because they need it.
Sometimes, she wonders why it's so hard with him, but other times, she knows that it is useless to ask, because her words are useless anyways.
But still, she speaks to him because she knows how, and he answers her because she wants it.
"I have a secret."
"I know," he answers as his fingers dig into bloody cloth, wanting to push it away, "We all do."
"Please don't run without me."
But he refuses, like she always does, and won't make any promises.
She kisses him because she wants to, because she isn't afraid to, but she knows that he is, and his fear refuses to die.
But still, he answers her, because she didn't ask, and he didn't expect her to.
And she is glad anyways, but still, she lies, because there is no other choice.
So he kisses her back, and she clings to nothing, begging him to stay.
But her words are useless, and he likes her fingers anyways, but she can't stand his.
And when he touches her, the fire turns to ice, and the crimson sorrow thickens until she can't breathe, making her want to beg for mercy, but forcing her not to.
She knows how to fight.
She knows that there is more to hatred than anger, and there is more to love than happiness, but sometimes, she doubts the existence of it all.
Because, sometimes, the love was absent and the grief was heightened, and they were beginning to hate each other.
He tries to make her walk, but everytime she does, she falls, and he is forced to fall with her, and she knows that he can't handle it any longer. She knows that, like herself, he wants to run away and leave, because, like her, he is missing them more and more, even if they do lie and drown in their secrets.
She wants to remind him that they have secrets, too, but she is beginning to think that he'll refuse to listen, like she always does.
But the scars on her legs continue to ache, and she thinks that she will never heal, but she doesn't know for certain.
She thinks that he can see that; she thinks that he knows she is changing, but she thinks that she doesn't like to think about it, and she wants to know for certain.
But his secret continues to hide within his own torment, just like hers does, and she knows that they shouldn't have found each other.
She likes being lost with someone though, and he knows that, just as much as she does.
He leaves now, more and more, and sometimes, she thinks that he will never come back, but she knows that he made a promise and will never break it, because he doesn't want to be a liar either.
Sometimes, he lays with her and comforts her, and sometimes, she places her hand against his sweaty skin and fights off the nightmares, just because she knows how.
But sometimes, he is angry for it, because she knows that he can see her, and he wants to think that she'll come back to.
But they are frightened and scared and they won't want to come back anyways.
She just needs time to heal, she thinks, but she doesn't know for certain.
And it bothers her.
And he can see it in her eyes, because it has always frightened her, and she is fighting this off, too, because now that she is lost, she doesn't want to be crushed and she knows that he will protect her from the winter.
Even if he hates her for it.
"Kohaku-kun," she says quietly, and she can see him smiling, like he always does, and is glad that he hasn't changed.
"Yes, Kagome-sama?"
"I think - I don't think I meant to fall."
He looks at her, like he always looks at her, and she sees something that is not there, something that shouldn't be real, and wonders why he is still alive.
"I didn't know you did."
And he says her name, just like she says his, because that is something that will never change, and they can't afford to let it.
"I think you're lying," Kagome responds, and he looks at her again. And his eyes are dark, and she knows that he is hating her, because all he knew was the truth, but she didn't like that either.
She knows that she doesn't like a lot of things, and she couldn't help but wonder if he was one of them.
But she knows that she likes being lost with him, so it won't matter anyways.
And words are useless now, just like they always have been, and they are both beginning to understand why.
"They aren't coming back, are they?"
She can hear the fear in his voice; she can see his boyish innocence, and she knows he makes her ache, purposely, just so he could have someone to stay with him.
She knows that he doesn't like lies, but he'll listen to hers, because she lies to make him happy.
"Kohaku-kun..."
"Please don't lie."
She can feel the guilt, can feel it clawing through her heart and making her want to cry, and it is then that she knows she is incapable of doing anything but lie and the resentment is deep and cold and frozen in place because she has already been crushed and he wasn't there to protect her from it.
He can see it in her eyes, she thinks, because he is near her once again, and there are tears streaming down his face because he misses them as much as she misses them.
And they are too much alike, and it frightens her.
"Are they coming back?" He asks again, but this time, he is pushing her into the ground, watching her closely, and the truths are forming in her mind, but all that she is capable of saying are bitter, hurtful, hopeful lies.
"Yes," Kagome whispers, and he knows that she is lying.
But he buries himself inside of her anyways, because he needs the lies almost as much as she needs his protection, and they are willing to stay lost together.
And she doesn't know when she came to make that sacrifice, but it is there, and he sees it, just as he hears it and tastes it and touches it.
"Why don't they want us anymore?"
But she doesn't want to lie to him anymore so she holds him, and he knows that is all the answer she is going to give.
She feels guilty now, more than anything, because she knows that she should have protected him too, but they both broke their promises, and there was no need for them anyways.
"Why is she so afraid of me?" he asks as his fingers dig into her shirt, and he forces her down to look into his eyes. She doesn't want to look at him, but she knows that there is no other choice, and she wonders why she couldn't see that he is not a boy, but he is not a man, either.
"Sango-chan never did like ghosts," Kagome whispers, but he refuses to hear her, like always, so she kisses his hair and forces him to look at her.
"I don't understand," he says, and she knows that he is real, but they are trapped and may never be able to escape.
"She'll - she'll come back, Kohaku-kun," she lies, and she runs her fingers through his hair, loves how he smiles at her.
She wants to brush his tears away, but she kisses them instead, because they are pretty, like her, and they can't survive the cold.
"Will you come back, Kagome-sama?"
She tightens her fingers in his hair, and she is confused because something is not right but she doesn't know what it is.
And she can see, just as well as he can, that she doesn't know a lot of things.
"I'll try not to," she lies, and his fingers dig into her shoulders angrily, forcing her back.
She likes the pain, she thinks, and she'll like it again if he is generous enough to give her more. But at the same time the pain gives her nothing but sorrow, and she can't help but wonder if he'll make her bleed again.
But all she has are scars, and he likes to hurt those, too, and make them dig deeper into her body.
She thinks he hates her, but even she doesn't know for sure, and he couldn't answer her.
"But I'm lost and I wouldn't leave you," she says, pushing him away from her, "I don't think I could."
"Inuyasha-sama doesn't like ghosts, either."
She freezes then, her eyes wide, and then she turns to him, hating him for listening, but loving him for knowing. She doesn't understand, and she doesn't know, but sometimes, she thinks that he hears her even when he pretends he can't.
"He chases them, though," Kagome pleads to herself, but Kohaku merely shakes his head and uses the fingers that she hates to dance along the scars on her legs, and tries to figure out what went wrong.
"Then where is he?"
She doesn't know how to answer, but she knows that he is thinking, and she is sorry.
"It's not your fault, Kohaku-kun."
"But I still need to hold you up, I think, otherwise you'll continue to fall."
They can look at each other easily, even though, sometimes, they don't want to, and it makes her uncomfortable. But she reaches towards him anyways because there is no one else but him, and she knows what grief is.
Because she knows that every time she sees him, all she can feel is grief. Even though they are lost together, she still wants to fall back into the story, she still wants to be able to hear the birds sing and chirp and she wants to be with them when the seasons change, that way, they can protect each other.
But she knows that they will never chase ghosts, and her skeletons will continue to dance, refusing to crumble, and he will speak nothing but the truth, turning them to ash and fire. She thinks she needs it, but at the same she doesn't want to think about it, because the grief is too near and won't let her escape.
"Your skin is too pretty to have scars," Kohaku says, and she thinks that she will remind him someday that his faults are not her own.
"I like them there," she answers happily, and the fingers that she can never bring herself to like -
("He is stained with dirt, grime, and blood, you know," Sango tells her quietly, but she holds his hands anyway, and for a moment, Kagome is jealous, "But he is still beautiful, don't you think, Kagome-chan?"
"He is very pretty," Kagome lies, but still, she manages to smile.
"I think you're pretty, too, Kagome-sama," Kohaku responds, and for a moment, Kagome can see his resentment dancing wildly in the torment, and she can't help but wonder why it's there.)
- but knows that she will have to face it one day. Because she doesn't like her fingers either, and she doesn't think she ever will.
"I think they're ugly," he answers, and he lowers his lips to them, and Kagome's heart is fluttering wildly in her chest, and it reminds her of the difference between what is and what has been.
Because they are both liars, and they both chase ghosts that aren't supposed to be there.
But she likes her ghosts; she thinks she'll fight to keep them there, but she doesn't know for certain.
But she doesn't know many things lately, except her skeletons will dance and he won't leave her by herself, because they are both too weak to run without the other and that the winter ice won't be afraid to kill them.
And when he kisses her scars, she can taste the sorrow nestled cruelly on a broken platter of dreams and wishes for the sun to rise on her, once again.
She knows what he doesn't.
She knows that he hates her but needs her, just as she loves him but doesn't want him, and she knows that it confuses her. But sometimes, when he is dreaming, she can see him for what he truly is, and she doesn't need to lie.
But it comforts her, being able to, knowing that he will accept it, just as she had accepted theirs, and that is all that matters.
They talk about ghosts, too, but are too weak to realize why it's so important to them.
They are too weak to realize why knowing hurts, and why ignorance is holy and comforting, and sometimes, Kagome knows why. But sometimes, she doesn't and he does, and she can't help but want to catch up.
The horizon is too far for her to reach, and her story is nothing more than a blur of words, and lies, and things that are useless and unwanted but is part of that story, and she wants him to be real.
But if he were real, then she would have to be, too, and she doesn't want to be.
She likes the secrets and the lies, but she needs the truth, too, because the truth isn't useless and the truth doesn't make her hate. But it will, someday, and he doesn't think she can change that.
She knows that she won't be able to.
They like to curl around each other, they like to fall into each other, but sometimes, it hurts, because he is always touching her scars with his filthy hands, and she thinks that he knows.
But he pretends that he doesn't, so he's a liar too, and she still wonders how they found each other.
He asks her to lie for him, more than she wants to, and she really hates words and touches and kisses, because they still speak to her, but he likes them, so she doesn't tell him no.
But she doesn't tell him yes, either, but she begs for him anyways.
"I'm sorry," she whispers through the dream, and he shrugs, curling into her.
"I'm tired of trying to run, Kohaku-kun," Kagome continues, but he shivers, and the scars on his back are thick and ugly and sweaty, and she knows that he'll survive, "Why do you make me run so much?"
"You're too pretty to die," he answers, and she wonders how he knew.
But she won't ask, and he doesn't expect her to, so she holds him close and kisses him, like she always does, because they both need it.
"Do you still want them to come back?" Kagome asks and threads her fingers through his, smiles as he frowns, and knows what he does not.
"Yes, Kagome-sama," he says softly, and he looks away from her because he wants to breathe.
"But they don't want to, you know, and it hurts, right?" She waits for him to nod, waits for him to hear, but he pretends he cannot, and she wonders why she tries so hard.
She knows what she can't compete with, and she realizes that she can't compete with many things, not even ghosts.
But she can't compete with herself, either, and he wonders if she knows.
"Kohaku-kun," she whimpers, and she presses kisses against his pretty little face, the way that he has done for her, and she knows that he hates her.
She reminds him, too much, of what is, through her lies, but the truth would hurt more, so he doesn't say anything.
But she wants them too, she realizes, and it frightens her.
"You smell like flowers," Kohaku whispers, and pulls her closer. She lets his dirty fingers tickle her scars, lets them curl in her hair and pull and tug because it's right, and she wants it.
She didn't know that he might want it, too.
But she knows what he does not, and she thinks that it is enough.
But this time they are both kissing each other because there is no other choice, and she thinks that they are standing still, but she doesn't know for sure.
He knows what she does not, but he thinks that they are running because they don't like chasing ghosts either.
"Kagome-sama," he says quietly, but she silences him again, not wanting to change.
Not wanting to hear the useless, pathetic words. Not wanting to know that she was just as real as he was and that ghosts should never exist, but the seasons will change anyways, just because they can. And lies will never be enough, the truth isn't either, so she wants to play pretend, just for a little while longer.
"I like being lost with you," he whispers and curls his fingers into her hair.
And she thinks she likes his fingers, even though they are dirty, because she is dirty, too, but doesn't think it's true.
She likes lies better anyhow, and she knows that she is greedy.
Kagome knows what he does not, but she doesn't know a lot of things, and she like the ignorance.
But he does, too, and she thinks that is the reason they found each other.
But he refuses to tell her, like always, and she refuses to ask, because words are useless and she likes the fear and the fight.
And when she takes him into her raging embrace, she sees the sun rising and setting on tomorrow, knowing that he will never love her, either.
She knows what it is to lie.
She knows because she can see him and she can see herself, and they are both lies, but they are both the truth as well.
He tucks a flower playfully behind her ear, and she smiles, knowing that it's real.
He presses into her, like he always does, like she always needs him to, and they listen as the birds sing; they pick the petals off of flowers, and she knows that he is wondering about the horizon.
About the winter that is sure to come.
But first there is autumn, and after winter there is spring, and she knows that, too, is all that matters.
"You're very pretty, Kagome-sama," he says and touches her scars with his ugly fingers like he always does, because they are not so pretty.
"How do you know?" she asks, and plucks a flower from the ground, wanting to tuck it behind his ear.
But he refuses, like they always do, and she smiles at him, pressing it into his palm.
"It's my secret," he answers, but he looks at her scarred legs and she wonders why he cares.
"But I have a secret, too, Kohaku-kun."
Kagome smiles, and she pulls the flower out of her hair and stares at it.
"I think you're lying."
She knows that he is moving away, that he is beginning to run, but her fingers curl around his wrist and pull him closer, and he knows that they will change together.
"I know," she answers, and she threads her fingers through his, holding him tight, "But you promised not to run without me and - and if you do, then you're a liar, too."
But he doesn't like lying, and he thinks he knows her secret, just like she thinks she knows his.
So he kisses her, and it's enough, just for now.
But she'll always want more anyways, because through the seasons, she is greedy, and he wants her to be.
But he is greedy, too, and she knows that they will never change.
And when they drown in the burning winter lies, nothing is an eternity fought in shame, but they'll keep it anyways, and they refuse to let it disappear.
(End)