Disclaimer: The series Inuyasha does not belong to me.
Rated for: Sexuality.
Notes: Response to a challenge issued by Riana.
How an Echo Fades
©2005 by Kei
Is there something about me that you find dry and pliant, textured and slightly cold? Does this hair feel slippery like eels gliding through your fingers? Do you understand that I'm reclaiming more of my soul by touching you, joining with you so intimately?
And yes, there is something vaguely narcissistic about feeling even slightly aroused by you, you who are me though I am not you. You are my image in water, a rippling impalpable reflection, without any substance, without any will. There is nothing to you but the helpless grunts and moans of desire I wring from you. Though you travel with the one who is mine, wear about your neck (so pale and long and perfect for strangling) a thing that is mine, contain within your weak flesh the soul that is mine (and which will be mine again soon).
You're pathetic, writhing beneath me, gripping my dirt body like a lifeline. You didn't even attempt to resist the distortion of me luring you away and seducing you. The wrongness of it probably excited you, disgusting slut that you are. Giving you pleasure revolts me, but it is necessary for my ends. Laving you with my tongue is the equivalent of feasting on my own excrement to survive, like a starving beast.
Now the moment arrives, when you shall die more than a little death and I shall return fully to the life I was meant to lead. Your climax hits and a wave surges over me and I wait for my strength to return and for your vitality to drain from you.
. . . Why do I feel so weak? I don't understand . . . .
You crouch beside me, naked, perspiring, your eyes glimmering beacons in the hazy darkness stalking me.
"You got it wrong," you whisper, or is your voice just quiet because my hearing is decreasing?
The last vestiges of my self are ebbing away and I want to cry out and claw onto them to hold them, but I can't shift my heaviness at all.
"You got it all backwards," you say, face right above mine now, like a mirror pressed to my nose. "You were always the reflection, Kikyou."
Your lips touch mine and—
-finis-