Selfish Joy

&Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha&

"Shiki-dono, do you have any complains to spare?"

"Hai, Kagome-dono, I'm referring to your houkouonchi; it almost took you half an hour to get here." He huffed.

Kagome laughed; it was truly relieving to meet a friend at work. She didn't have to be polite or advising; she could truly relax, and her shift almost ended; soon she'd be able to shake off the stiffness sitting on her neck.

And then someone turned abruptly around. The person who was sitting in front of Shiki with his back to her, he turned around, stood up, and she caught her breath.

Amber. His eyes were the color of amber; she had once known a hanyou boy and a demon lord who had had that shade of eye color.

She was loosing it.

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Jasmine, spring rain, and purity; the scent had sent his mind reeling. He was living history again; he went back to the place everyone called a warring state, but to him it was a piece of heaven, something to look back and yearn for.

When he hadn't his nose, he wouldn't recognize her. She looked so different; no one would mistake her for the undead miko now.

The girl, who stood agape in front of him, was not a girl anymore; she was a woman, but after all the years she was still pure, and he couldn't help but wonder how long she had maintained this state. Had someone not took her? Did they not crave for her?

It was not the question of wanting or not wanting; he realized it was her decision to stay pure.

She was before, he had to admit, beautiful in her childlike sort of way, and the fact that she was pure only fuelled more fire in the eyes of the beholder.

But now, when he thought she couldn't get more striking, she did. Beautiful than ever, her midnight black hair was still shining silkily, though longer that it reached the end of her bottoms. She kept her pony no longer, letting her front hair grew into beautiful layers; she had her hair layered beautifully, and it was straight, not slightly wavy like it used to be, but it still had its healthy thickness.

Her eyes seemed to change; it was no longer bright blue almost violet, but it was smoky blue with tiny dots of gold spectrum. He didn't know eye color could change.

Her nose was cute, a bit thinner than the last time he saw her, and the last time it was a bit stumped, but still was cute. Now it was endearing cute.

Her lips were rosier than he remembered; it might've caused by the exertion of her work in the kitchen, looking at the flush in the cheeks as well, but still it was captivating. The way she held it slightly open… revealing a bit of perfect white teeth and tempting little rosy tongue. Her lips weren't lips that one forgot; even though they were fleshy and sensual and perfectly curved, they were, as her nose was, endearing cute and sexy. It appraised her little elfin face more, if possible.

She lost her baby fat on her cheeks; they were so smooth like the surface of a marble, tinted with flush of healthy rose. Her skin was perfect and unblemished.

Her neck was long and graceful; her nape was tempting to kiss, and her wisps of hairs only making it more vulnerable.

Her body was still tiny, but her breasts were fuller, definer, and perfectly rounded. She still had that cute arms and hands, but they were slightly thinning over the years. It seemed that her baby fat was fairly gone from her body, but nonetheless her body looked so soft, vulnerable, and fragile, and yet her curves, now definer, made her look more sexy than before; her aura was a combination of erotic innocence and seductive vulnerable beauty.

Her changes didn't go unaware by Sesshoumaru; even though he kept his face impassive, he was stunned inside for being physically affected.

After staring at each other for about one minute or more, he finally spoke up.

"So, Miko, you've got a lot of explaining to do."

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Kagome could only stare at the man who was her only tie to the past. 'Why is he here? Why is he still alive? Are they still alive too? Is he…no, stop, I have to stop to presume; let him talk, let him tell me. I won't ask, I just won't… oh gods, why is he here?'

Sesshoumaru sensed her frantic aura. "I hope you're not disappointed?" He asked mockingly.

But irony and sarcasm were lost to Kagome; all her pent-up emotions were suddenly towed back to the surface. All those years of built up confidence was shattered like the jewel of the four souls once was.

And then unexpectedly Sesshoumaru grabbed her arms to steady her; he whispered menacingly. "Don't you dare faint on me."

Kagome jerked back; she pulled her arms back and steadied herself. "No, I won't. I might throw up on you, but you'd probably evade it, as genteel as you are."

"You guys! You know each other! Why didn't I know this! Kagome! Kagome! Hey Kagome!"

"Shiki-kun, I heard you loud and clear. Yes, we know each other, unwillingly-"

"The feeling is mutual, Miko."

Kagome ignored him and continued. "Unwillingly before, but now I'm just glad that he's here." And she looked at him almost affectionately, offering a silent peace.

He was silently astonished; she was behaving more mature than him! After all these years he had thought she would shrieked at him, still held her grudges on him for trying to kill her and her friends. Out of perverse inexplicable reason he had wanted her to behave like she had been once before; he didn't want her to change.

So, now out of childishness, he defied her unspoken request. "Then I will correct myself; the feeling was, on my part, not reciprocal."

She sighed and took a seat between them. "So be it then. What have you guys had?" She asked, changing the topic.

"Didn't you miss them all, Miko? Don't you still?" Now that she was sitting down, he decided to prod further on her wounds.

But she simply smiled softly at him, and her coming answer was baffling him more beyond repair. "Did you join forces with Naraku now? Dear almost-half-brother-in-law, it is not on your nature to be cruel and taunting." She looked him straight in the eyes and whispered quietly but deadly. "I remember you helped him."

"It was only a whim, wench!" His answer was coarser than he preferred; he inhaled deeply. Inside he was irritated that the effect was backfiring; after three hundred years of trained patience, this wench had succeeded to irritate him to the verge of throttling her. No, he rebuffed that fact; it was a bad evening in the beginning, and that was why his patience was wearing thin.

Shiki never knew how it felt like to be a street lantern, and now he knew; it was in fact not very kind. His foster parent and the girl he was in love with for the longest time were sitting here with him, ignoring him unintentionally, which made it crueler than it seemed to be.

But he remained still; someone had taught him to be patient, and he was a good learner and trustful to the verge of blindness.

Sesshoumaru was not satisfied; he didn't know why, but he had expected more tragedy out of this reunion. And sitting here near him was a Miko who was killing her own passion. It was unlike her to be so sickeningly compassionate; had she not once before fought for his half brother's affection? Now here she was, acting like she was going to enter celibacy.

He braced himself for the final assault, preparing to hear her shriek and wails.

"They never find their happiness, those friends of yours; even though Naraku was defeated, they all died tragically, alone and heartbroken. What a shame, Miko."

Hearing it from him, from a man she knew who would never lie out of his honor, was almost a relief; now she knew what happened. Now she knew a reason not to go on.

Sesshoumaru watched her altered before him; at first he had almost yelled victoriously in silent. In his mind he was hogging her elegantly as he repeatedly sang the three words over and over again, 'hit a nerve, hit a nerve, hit a nerve.'

He controlled himself; he sure as hell wasn't going to degenerate himself over such petty victory. He would probably-

Her eyes were dead, he inspected.

For the first time in nine hundreds years he pulled a muscle on his face. His rusted mask was slowly slipping over, roughly. The more emotional he became, the duller she befell, and the word was lifeless.

It was beneath him to feel guilt, but much lower was the fact that he inflicted it; he was, out of usual, beginning to panic. (And pigs do fly.)

She stood up silently and headed for the door, bumped her forehead at the massive glass door, but kept going. She already said her farewell mentally; pains were not there anymore to feel.

He had waited a while before he took some action. He was conning himself assuming she would only go home and cry her eyes out to sleep.

He had to be really old to kid himself like that, and he watched as she fled from the restaurant to her car. Yes, he was indeed decrepit.

+end of chapter+

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