Memory
of a Soul
Airian
Reesu
Chapter 13: Dreams
Natsuko ran, head down, knees bent, and her blood rushing through her ears. She didn't care how much noise she made, or how many people saw her. She just had to leave. Her stomach roiled as something cold and killing gripped her insides and she just wanted to run until her legs cracked open and bleed.
But she couldn't. She couldn't just keep going forever. She had to stop this.
Biting down hard to strangle the tiny whimpers of fear she felt building in her chest, she dug her feet into the gravel of the main courtyard and made straight for the exit. Although she was leaving the source of her fear behind she still felt pursued and her breath came in wheezing gasps. She could just picture it…white paws pounding the earth behind her, hot vaporous breath on her back, fangs in her neck…
Sword through her back.
She knew it was just her imagination, but it didn't stop. All she could see was that hand that --with just a quick twist-- had crushed a neck. Just like that. She remembered standing beside Yayoi on the veranda, the air thick with the older woman's jealously as they watched those two sitting so close and then, in the time it took to scar her, a man was dead.
And as Yayoi had hurried forward, Natsuko had run like hell backwards. Crashing through the abandoned halls, she hadn't even bothered to stick around for the outcome. Because, what good could come of such a cold-blooded murder?
Just like that. Flick, crack, dead.
The main gate loomed before her and Natsuko hit it at a dead run. Thrusting out her hands, she pushed the bolt, swung the gate back, and let it fall shut behind her. She didn't care if someone found it unlocked. Her skin prickled, inquisitive warmth pulling at her, and then she was through Yayoi's barrier.
She ran a few more feet down the hillside before she slowed to a sudden stop, knees snapping stiff. Now, outside of the immediate threat, her adrenaline drained from her limbs and she wobbled. Coughing in an attempt to get her breath again, she had to fight the urge to sink down to the cool grass under her feet.
It was only then that she realized that they were still bare from having been in the house. And that they hurt like hell from the gravel. Wincing, she lifted her left foot and studied the small cuts that littered the surface.
Fuck, now they can track me.
It took Natsuko a moment to realize what she meant by that thought. It had just come out of nowhere, hitting her broadside and leaving her floundering in her mind. It took some time, but then she was finally able to label it as instinct. A youkai's instinct.
"I don't want to be like this," she hissed, slamming her foot down and staring back at the wall behind her. "I don't want to be like that!" She felt so sick just thinking about it, her stomach heaving.
So she ran, in hopes of leaving that behind. But it ran with her and she slowly recognized the fact that she couldn't stop hating what she was until he was dead. That beast that killed so easily --twitch, snap, break-- was the reason she was like this, why her fingertips itched and she had these strange, animalistic thoughts. Why she felt so tight in her skin and the smog left her breathless. Why she wasn't human any longer.
Oh, Yayoi, what you've got us into, she moaned silently as she slipped down the last few steps of the path. Taking a sharp right she moved to what probably had once been a guardhouse. It was so close to being completely hidden by trees that it was impossible to see until you were almost at its door. The wood had decayed and it was only the stone base that kept the building standing.
Slowing down, she reached for the old warped door and shoved it open. Squinting into the murky darkness, she saw what she was looking for. There, in the patch of light from a hole in the roof, was the shiny hood of her car.
What had once been a guardhouse had become a fine car garage after a few hasty renovations and a rather tight fit. It had been Yayoi's idea and Natsuko was quite happy now that she had gone along with it. Because now no one could see or hear her leave. She could be all the way to the city by the time they even knew that she was gone.
Sucking in an apprehensive breath in spite of herself, Natsuko rummaged in the small bag tucked in her obi and withdrew her key. Squeezing along the wall, she made it around to the front of the car, where she pushed aside the back wall of the hut that she had arranged as a temporary garage door. Sliding around the front fender she climbed in the vehicle. Her stomach was doing random flip-flops in her gut and for a moment she feared that she might make a mess on her seat. But she forced all her courage to the front and used it to push down the bitter tasting bile.
"I can do this," she chanted, inserting her key in the ignition. "I can stop this. I can save Yayoi and everybody else. I can do this. I can do this." Squeezing her eyes shut she threw her hand forward. The engine sputtered to life under her fingers and was soon purring in her ears like a sedated kitten.
The tension melted from her shoulders as the gentle trembling underneath her wormed its way into her senses. She was doing this. She was stopping this. No one was going to get in her way.
Expelling the breath she hadn't known that she was holding, Natsuko threw the car into drive and, as she rolled out of the shed, she felt a sense of elation spread over her. Once on the road she couldn't keep herself from smirking at the steadily receding castle.
"I'm going to save the day. I can do it."
8
8
Yayoi felt the wood biting into her side but she didn't dare move. All she could do was stare at the blood on her hand and wonder what had really happened. That had been Ryoichi…and that had been her. Yes…yes that was how it had been.
Sucking in a wavering breath, she flexed her hand and something in her tightened. Yes, that had been her, that had been Ryoichi, and that was his blood on her fingers.
It took so long for the murmurs of the nearby crowd to reach her fogged brain. But when they finally did and she looked up, Yayoi wasn't sure she liked what she saw.
Although nearly halfway across the back garden, the heat behind Sesshoumaru's hard glare made it feel as if he were right in her face. His knuckles were still white around the sword hilt, his shoulders hunching just the slightest as he stared her down.
He'd seen me, hadn't he? Yayoi wasn't so much afraid as resigned. She should have known something like this would happen. There was only so much a jealous woman could do before she broke. And that was what she was. Nothing more than a jealous bitch.
Just thinking those words caused the bitterness within her to swell in a tempest, choking her. It filled her to the brim, leaking out as salty tears on her face. She had a right to feel this way. She'd done so much for him and for what? To have him glare at her, ignore her, scorn her. And for some girl who Yayoi didn't even know, some girl who'd done nothing, he…well, he did the impossible.
Yayoi's eyes traveled down Sesshoumaru's arm to the sword he held. It looked so normal, glittering in the afternoon sun. But it wasn't, and she'd known that. She just hadn't chosen to believe it.
Of all the stories she'd learned about the taiyoukai, the news of a life-bearing sword was completely incongruous with his reputation. It had only been in a small, relatively indecipherable text that she had found the reference to the second blade, Tenseiga. And as soon as she read about its power she'd laughed at the pure fairytale quality. Because assuredly something like that had to be a tall tale. Why would a youkai have a sword of life? How could such a blade exist?
Yet, when he had jumped back down in the grave and removed two swords, she'd begun to reconsider. Now she was forced to face the truth.
Sesshoumaru was even more powerful than she'd thought.
The sword suddenly jerked, moving out of her line of sight and Yayoi lifted her head. Sesshoumaru was sheathing the blade, a swift near-undetectable movement of his arm that gave credence to his practiced speed. Yayoi followed the movement the best she could, and she had just enough time to see the blue hilt of that legendary sword when he spoke.
"You will explain."
Yayoi's heart leapt up into her throat before she could control herself and she had to swallow the apprehension like she would swallow thick honey, so slow and agonizingly choking. Clasping her hands in front of her in a useless attempt to hide the blood on her hands, Yayoi perform a polite bow.
"Sesshoumaru-sama," she murmured, head still down even as her whole body trembled, blood rushing in her ears. "If you would kindly come inside we can discuss everything that had happened and--"
"You will explain now." He didn't raise his voice at all but Yayoi still flinched.
"Yes, Sesshoumaru-sama…" Yayoi contemplated holding out, finding something else to say that really wouldn't tell him anything. But she didn't. She tried, turning the thoughts over in her mind, but then that sudden compulsion overtook her. Her lips started to move on their own and she cursed this weakness. It was the same one that told him about the barrier, the same one that was going to ruin all her plans and she wanted to cry.
Why was she such a weak creature? Why did the world hate her so much?
And why, why, was she never first in anything? She was just weak, pathetic, ignored Yayoi.
Her voice was only a whisper, toned down by her own sense of insignificance. It was barely discernable to her ears but she knew he heard them. And yet the others that slowly backed away from him to the edges of the courtyard could not. Which was all for the better.
She told him how the others were partial youkai and that they were reacting to his presence. She told him how that had been her intention, to awaken the long since dead youkai. But her words stopped on the idea of control, of who was to lead them. She had enough self-preservation not to say it would be her. At least that was how it had been written into her plans.
When her voice died she was greeted with silence. The wind did not even blow, leaving the air heavy with a stifling feeling that made Yayoi want to squirm. All she did was keep her head down, waiting for it to end.
"You used this Sesshoumaru in order to resurrect the youkai race." It wasn't so much a question as a lackadaisical comment and something in Yayoi's gut twisted. She raised her head slowly and peered at him through her lashes. He was staring at her with an intensity that made her want to step back. It seemed that his tone was nothing to go by. "You used…" he stopped then and that's when she felt it. He was angry. His anger swirled around him in the air and still his face did not change.
Then he said the last thing she'd expected to ever hear. "Come here."
Some small part of her jumped with ecstatic joy with those words while the more sensible region of her brain screamed at her to run. Not knowing what to do, Yayoi did nothing.
Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed a fraction. "Mutt…" he warned, his hand rising to chest height. With a quick jerk of his fingers the joints popped, a sickening sound that sank all the way down into her belly. Biting her lip, Yayoi stared at those long slender claws and, instead of doing as he said, she thought. She stared at those fingers and told herself I want those.
Either on herself or on him, she didn't quite know. As it was, his were rather nice…
Air rushed past her then, and sharp needles embedded in her skin. She turned to look, but the earth jerked beneath her and before she knew it she was tossed, skidding backwards across the grass. Her feet and legs screamed in agony as she tried to slow herself down, only to end up tumbling head over heels until she came to a rather undignified stop. She heard a distant gasp as the semi-youkai behind her noticed what was going on. Lifting her head, she turned just in time to see Sesshoumaru appear behind her.
"I told you to move," he remarked, his tone deadpan, before reaching down and grabbing her wrist. His claws fit almost perfectly in the incisions already carved into her flesh.
Yayoi was ashamed to find her arm trembling in his grasp. "Sesshoumaru-sama, I--" she began, but he cut her off by propelling her forward with brute force, her knees dragging across the grass and gravel. He let her go soon enough and she crashed down against the unyielding ground.
Trying her best to gather her breath back, she twisted her head around to glance up at him. His face was still as stone, but his eyes…his eyes. They terrified her.
Still gold, there was something there that was so dark, something that made his gaze resemble an all-consuming blaze...one that could easily burn her alive.
Yayoi realized, just then, exactly what she'd gotten them all into.
"Take it down," he ordered, jerking his head towards what Yayoi realized was the end of the property.
Thrown off-balance, all Yayoi could do was gape up at him.
His eyes darkened further and she could do nothing but stare into that maelstrom of gold. It was like a truck, barreling down at her, and she just stood in the street and watched…
"Now."
"I…I…" she stuttered, her tongue stumbling over her teeth. She cringed when his eyes narrowed and he wrenched her arm back. Her shoulder ached from the pressure. She tried to grit her teeth, to fight against the pain, but she couldn't. He kept pushing her arm back…back...back…until it popped, her whole shoulder coming out of joint. The pain raced through her like white-hot lightening and apparently she wasn't as strong as she'd thought. She tried to stop the shameful, pain-induced tears that tore at her eyes, but it was to no avail.
"All right!" she cried. "All right!"
The pain slackened somewhat and Yayoi was sure she heard the bones in her shoulder grind against each other as they attempted to pop back into place. The whole joint throbbed and she stifled tiny whimpers of pain.
"I…I will need time…" she whispered, wincing when the force on her arm increased minutely. "An hour, no more. I swear!"
The pressure reduced a fraction. Yayoi blinked up through the haze of pain to meet golden eyes that were so dark that they were now a reddish-brown, an unnatural light glimmering from some place unseen to make them glow from the inside out, even in the fading sunlight. They were so beautiful…
Funny how he looked his most dazzling when angered…
Her daydreaming was cut short when he suddenly released her. She hit the ground hard, her shoulder shifting abnormally within its socket. She lay there breathless, staring up at him. He glared down at her, before turning his head to look behind him. His hair drifted like burnished silver before her dazed eyes and Yayoi suppressed a shudder.
Somewhere inside her, somewhere where her common sense had long ago been banished, a tiny voice told her she was being a fool. A lovesick little fool. But, sitting there, so close and yet not touching this glorious creature, she couldn't keep the cravings down anymore.
Oh, what would it be like…what she wouldn't give….
Then he spoke and something in her quivered. Almost as if she was afraid… "An hour. That is all I give you." He turned back around to look at her and Yayoi just stared. "In an hour I shall be rid of this place, or you can consider yourself without your pitiful army." He spat the words at her like they were garbage and that shook some of the haze out of Yayoi's mind.
"You…" she whispered, but could not go on. So…he knew. He'd figured it out.
The look he gave her was pure disdain. "Do not think so lowly of this Sesshoumaru, mutt. Revealing your true motives made the rest of it fall into place easily." He glanced over his shoulder again, a slight scowl forming on his face. "You may as well call off your underlings, or I may have to dispose of them before your time is up."
This confused Yayoi. Shaking her head, she bent forward as much as she dared in order to see around the demon's leg. Her heart skipped a beat.
The semi-youkai that had remained in the garden were warily converging around the two by the barrier, not quite sure of how to approach Sesshoumaru but knowing that Yayoi was in peril.
Taking a quick glance up at Sesshoumaru's rather displeased face, Yayoi swallowed her light bit of joy before she made a faint motion of dismissal with her hand. "It…it's all right," she told them, shakily. "Go back inside…"
They all obeyed her, albeit slowly. It was only when Sesshoumaru spoke again that they stopped.
"You."
Kajiro, who stood at the very edge of the horde, turned in shock. He stared at Sesshoumaru with the eyes of a hounded animal. He didn't so much speak as make a small squeaking sound of pure terror.
"Come here."
Kajiro stood stone still for a long moment, his eyes jumping longingly for the distant door, but he didn't dare run. Sesshoumaru seemed to expect this behavior. Bringing up his one hand, he cracked his knuckles again, a sound that made Yayoi quiver with some strange delight.
It had the opposite effect on Kajiro. It made him run. Yet, to Yayoi's astonishment, he ran towards Sesshoumaru. Making small, frightened noise, he collapsed a few paces away from the taiyoukai's feet, swaying slightly.
A sharp claw was abruptly pointed at Yayoi. "Assist her," Sesshoumaru told the terrified man at his feet. "You owe me this."
Kajiro's head almost bounced off his neck as he hastened to nod, repeatedly. Yayoi stared at him. She knew him from before this and…this wasn't Kajiro.
This was nothing but a broken man.
Yayoi found herself once again awed by the power of a youkai.
Sesshoumaru had his eyes on her again and Yayoi raised her head, slowly. The intensity of that gaze made her stomach flutter. "Begin."
Yayoi could do nothing but obey.
For this…this was what Ryoichi had feared all along.
And Yayoi found herself powerless to stop it.
8
8
Ryoichi pushed the door to the girls' room open and allowed Rinako to go in first. She was more than pleased to do so; she'd never felt so weary in her life. With her adrenaline gone, the very marrow of her bones was like stone and it was all she could do to drag herself this far.
"What happened?"
Azarni was standing in the middle of the room with expressions of worry and fear intermingling on her face. Her temporary servant, Sei, sat behind her on the floor, looking surprisingly human in face of all that had just happened. Behind them the window screen had been pulled from the window and Rinako knew they had been watching.
Rinako swayed unsteadily on her feet, knowing she had to sit down soon but not feeling strong enough to enter the room.
"Rinako," Azarni whispered, coming forward and clutching her forearms in her two small hands. "Come in here and sit. You look like you're going to faint."
Rinako let herself be led over to her futon on stumbling legs. She sank down gratefully, her legs giving out at the exact moment. She heard the door close and she looked up to see that Ryoichi had stayed. He crossed the room and sat next to her despite Arzani's somewhat suspicious glance.
"Are you all right?" he asked her softly, peering at her with soulful eyes.
Rinako only shook her head, reaching down for the arms he'd folded in his lap. "I think we should worry more about you than me, Ryoichi-san. Look at your arm, its--" she stopped in mid-sentence, staring at the now closed wounds on his arm--no, make that arms, since the other seemed to have a quick-disappearing burn of some sort. "Ryoichi-san…you're healing…"
He actually looked somewhat bashful as he pulled his arms back. "I know. I'm supposed to do that; it's one perk of being part youkai." He attempted a grin but it died within moments and he didn't try again.
A strained hush fell over the small room and Rinako felt her eyelids drifting closed. Maybe if she fell asleep all of this would be nothing but a dream…
But then, she thought, do I really want it to be one?
She wasn't quite sure. But one thing she did know-- she knew that sword. She did not really understand why or how she knew it; she just did. If that was a good thing or not she had no way of telling.
If she had the energy, Rinako would have wondered why a resurrecting sword didn't startle her. As it was she just accepted it; it made sense to her. She wasn't even all that concerned about Sesshoumaru's swift kill anymore, because that made sense too, somehow. And Yayoi…well, she wasn't so frightening now that she was left behind.
What was truly bothering her was the fact that Sesshoumaru had done what she'd asked him to do so quickly.
Rinako let her eyes sink shut and she stared into the darkness. She heard voices around her talking; one was Azarni asking questions and Ryoichi answering. Her body felt like it was melting into mush and she let herself sink down to the futon below. She felt sheets being pulled up around her, and heard Ryoichi say something close by, but she just ignored him, letting herself relax against the mattress.
Why had he done that? she asked herself, sleepily. What made me so important to command life like that?
Rinako drifted off to sleep, that question echoing softly through her mind.
8
8
She was sitting in her room, perched on the edge of her bed, a book open in her lap. Her fingers traced the outer edges, picking lightly at the frayed fabric of the cover. The carpet was rough under her bare toes, like drying grass in summer. She began to hum slightly, tracing patterns in the green rug.
"Are you waiting for someone, too?" a voice asked behind her.
Turning, she saw an old woman lying there. Her skin was wrinkled with laughter and age, cloudy eyes peering up at her from the futon. The sheets were frayed, hand woven, and spread out past the pallet edge to spill over the wooden, hand-swept floor.
"I really don't know what I'm doing, actually. I'm rather confused."
The old woman smiled through a wince. "I've been there a few times, myself. In fact, my body's a little confused now. I'm supposed to be dying, but here I am talking to you."
"Oh. Well, don't let me keep you," she said, inanely.
"You remember this, don't you?" the old woman continued, ignoring her. "This coldness…this pain…this sightlessness. This tiny foolish thought outside all others that says that maybe, maybe, if only in passing, despite everything that had happened in your life, you'd see him again?"
"See who again?"
The old woman's head flopped to the right in a feeble attempt to shake her head. "Ah, so you don't know yet…I see."
She coughed, rubbing her hands together, rough spotted skin against skin. She felt cold and somewhat stiff. "I don't even know who you are, lady."
"You don't? Maybe I can tell you then." It sounded just like the old woman, except a step younger. She turned again and saw a woman standing there, dressed in a patched yet clean peasant's kimono. She was smiling through tired eyes, a woman who'd lived a busy life. She held a needle in one hand, a scrap of white fabric in the other. Her sandals were coated in dust from the village road she stood on, her back to an old hut.
"Can you, please?" she asked, feeling her shoulders sink under a silent burden she didn't know she had. "I'm very confused."
"It's quite simple." The woman told her, moving the fabric in her hands until she held up the one ragged edge. "She's a thread is all."
"But I don't sew."
"That isn't true. Everyone sews. I like white the best, myself."
"As do I," another voice spoke, just a shade younger. She turned to greet a yard of children, a woman --so familiar-- standing at the head and watching her with sunny eyes. "Perhaps you would like to sit?" the woman asked so kindly, motioning to the door.
"Yes…yes, thank you…"
As she crossed that mile-yard, the children scrambled up, flocking around her feet and impeding her process. She was slugging through a sea of bodies that never ended and she'd been here before…
"Mama?" one little boy asked, his brown eyes so big, pulling on her lengthy skirt with well kept little fingers, before the woman hushed him with a motherly smile.
"Quiet now. Mama has to go inside now. Be good."
Then she ducked under the covered door. Kneeling there was a young woman, just at the marriage age. She looked up from inside her wedding kimono; her face was made up the best it could on little money, her hair gleaming black. She looked up with dark forlorn eyes.
"I really don't know what I'm doing here. Do you?"
"No…" she said, feeling just as unsure as this bride did.
"I feel so lonely, but this is for the best, huh? There's really nothing else and he is nice to me."
"I suppose that's the best then," she agreed, watching the woman wipe at her eyes. Red was smeared over the white of her kimono sleeve and the bride cringed.
"I don't like this color anymore, but I can't just put it behind me. Because the past really doesn't stay there, you know. It likes to chase you, it seems."
"Do you need someone to fix that for you?"
The bride smiled sadly. "I don't think anyone can. But that's okay. I'm used to not crying and that helps a little bit."
"But maybe you should cry, that way it will all go away…"
The bride shook her head. "No, I can't do that. I have to go forward, you know. It can't be my whole life. I have to be strong, because that's what makes the past worth it."
"Does it?" Another voice asked, a mere breath. She turned and there stood a little girl. She had her arms wrapped about her torso, her wavering face staring at the ground. The wind blew the leaves in the dark woods behind her, tossing her hair. "It hurts so much, though. I really don't know why this happened…"
"What happened…?" she whispered through cracked lips. She felt dizzy, swaying on her feet as the adolescent rubbed her little arms. Her chest felt so heavy…
"I really don't like remembering it, you know, but I can't forget it. I could never forget him and it wouldn't be right to do so. Not after what he did for me."
Her heart seized, turning her cold and she had to know. "Who IS he?"
"How can you not remember…?" the girl asked, so quietly it was just a movement of lips.
Then the adolescent pointed over her shoulder.
She turned.
There were bodies everywhere, melted and torn and decapitated and dead. Some twitched, others laughed even as they died. All of them weren't human.
A head of silver hair waved before her, then a green skirt and voices screamed about her, great tremors racked the ground and she gripped the slim object between her tiny hands, wanting to close her eyes but she couldn't because he was out there but that wasn't him, was it? He was supposed to be white, not red, right?
Something roared, more voices yelled, she heard a name but all she could do was hold on harder. There was a stench on the air, dead and decay and poison and she felt sick. But she couldn't move. He'd said not to.
And then and then and then…he was right there, breathing, living, ALIVE, but then then then…
It exploded everywhere, a whip of liquid against her face burning hot and he wasn't there any more. He was in pieces and one hit her face and she wanted to close her eyes but couldn't and what happened? A voice that wasn't a voice trembled and sobbed in her ears alone and she opened her mouth, she wanted to wanted to wanted to…
The little girl just started screaming. One word one name one person and she screamed--
8
8
Rinako pitched upright in the bed, her throat hoarse and dry. Her whole body trembled but she still tried to reach out for the little girl who was screaming, to try to comfort her.
It was only when someone grasped her arms that she realized that it wasn't a little girl.
It was she. She was the one crying…
"Rinako!" Azarni was at her side, trying to hold her still. Rinako felt her hands and took a quick glance at her shocked expression. "Why did you call that name, Rinako?" her friend asked in a hurried whisper, the look of a hunted animal on her face.
What name, what name…oh, the blood! She felt like screaming again; her whole body ached with the suppressed sobs of days long past. All the times when she'd needed to be strong for her family, even in the face of the nightmares of the worst day of her life…
People were still talking to her, a girl she knew and a man she'd just met but she couldn't focus. Her head was swimming and all she wanted was…who she wanted was…
She looked up, compelled by some unknown force. Perhaps some innate sense, perhaps the simple snap of screen against frame. Whatever it was, he was there in the doorway, his white form framed by the dark night-tinted wood. Like a ghost. She's almost thought he was until Arzani nails bit into her arms. If she was afraid then he was real, because no one else could see her ghosts…
"You're here…" she whispered, struggling with the blankets wrapped around her legs. They wouldn't let her go and she started to struggle, frantic to get to him, to see if he was real. She was almost crying in frustration when she felt a hand on her leg. She went to strike out but she recognized Ryoichi's voice and let him get her loose.
She went to get up but her legs felt so weak under her and she just couldn't get there fast enough. She ended up crumpled on her futon after an unsuccessful stand. She thought Arzani was going to help her up after that, but her friend pulled away unexpectedly. She raised her head and there was…
Sesshoumaru-sama.
He was right there, kneeling on the floor right in front of her. He sat like a prince, chin up and so regal. But he was there and she knew she was crying. She was torn between reaching for him or just savoring the image. What if he wasn't really there? What if he evaporated on the edge of a dream or maybe…maybe…maybe all that red would explode again and she'd be covered in him…again…again…
"Rinako."
His voice was like a whip crack through the fog of her mind and she lifted her eyes to meet his. There were such a pretty gold, like morning suns or the hearts of flowers. And she'd told him that before but she didn't think he would remember something so simple and childish.
"Why did you call out for this Sesshoumaru?" It was such a simple question but she found that she couldn't articulate an answer. Her lips floundered to form the words, her breath struggled to find the strength and she was left mute. Like so long ago.
So she did the first thing she could. She reached out for him. Her fingers slid over the smooth silk he wore and she wrapped them in it, felt its coldness and remembered it. It was the gesture of a child, the silent plea of the frightened, and she wanted him to know it was she.
And he had to, because she looked up into his face then and it was lighter. It was crystal instead of granite and she was sure that if she found the right crack in that mask she could break it and it wouldn't hurt him at all. But she liked that strong mask so it would stay because that's how things were for them.
She stretched her arms up like a child begging to be held, she curled them back behind his neck to hold on and he let her. She pulled him close -- or was it pulled herself closer? --and he let her, because that's how things were for them. She'd never held him as a woman because he hadn't been there and had instead left an aching void that was impossible to fill. So she took her role of the child, curling up against him and sharing his warmth and wanting his comfort.
And he gave it. Because that's how things were for Rin and her Sesshoumaru-sama.
She held on tight, afraid he would let go, and she would be lost to drown in the roaring waves of old memories. Because here she could forget what she was supposed to remember, because this was what she was looking for and had finally found after forever.
She pressed her face against the warm skin of his neck and felt layers of silken hair pool around her, prickles of memory against her skin, as he lowered his head to ease the strain on her arms. A hand was placed against her shoulder blades, fingers spread to hold her still, giving silent comfort and she was crying because of it. There she was spooned against him just like she remembered, once or twice. His breath was in her ear, quiet and yet so loud to her because it meant he was alive.
She'd missed him so much over all those years.
She didn't want to ask the question but it had been festering in her mind for years and years. It was a child's query. It was naïve and lacked thought, because, being older, all her possible answers made sense, but it had still haunted her forever. She wanted to ask it but feared the answer, feared his response. She didn't know what she wanted.
But she asked it anyway. Her lips hardly moved, pressed up against him as she was, but he could hear her. Sesshoumaru-sama could hear everything. Even the silent cries of a lonely child's heart.
Her tongue felt so thick mouthing these words of two lifetimes. But the words echoed silently between them, hovering around them with its dark wings even as his grip on her tightened.
"Sesshoumaru-sama, why did you die and leave Rin all alone?"
8
8
A/N:
…I know. Strange dream sequence…which didn't go how I originally imagined it. I actually wanted it to be even more abstract, if you can believe it…
Anyway…here's a really BIG step in their relationship. But I really didn't need to point that out to you, did I?
The Yayoi and Girls' Room parts were bitches to write! In fact, I had the last Sess-Rin part written almost a month ago! Yes, that is a sign of my slowness….
Annyway, I had gotten many comments on my whining last chapter. And, well, thank you for telling me it wasn't as crappy as I thought. I guess I should stop being such a baby sometimes, huh? But I still think that Sess could have been much better… sigh… I suppose what really made me dislike the last chapter was how long it took. I would start working on it, and then…nothing. It wouldn't go anywhere and I had to force it into action.
As it stands, I'm not going to say what I think about this chapter, overall. I'll shut up from now on…