White Dogs: Perversity.
Rating: PG-13. R, to be safe for some parts.
Pairing: Sess/Kag, we get to see something of affection in here. Or would that be desperation?
Song-fic: ….
Disclaimer: ::rolls eyes upward.:: Oh, that I were the one who had created Inuyasha that I had given life to Sesshoumaru. But alas, I cannot claim anything at all. For I was not the one to do the creating merely the one to envy the creator. Translation: I own ..::checks stock:: two pieces of lint and a monkey. Nothing more. I wonder where the third piece of lint went to?…::we switch scenes to see a piece of lint, obviously the runaway one, having a snog-fest with a dust bunny.:: …!!!::pales:: I didn't want to know that bad!!
Summary: Could a girl wounded as Kagome had been wounded, both physically and emotionally, stand to trust a beautiful stranger? Or is she jaded? And if so, does Hitori have what it takes to heal her?
Genre: Everything left of the middle. But count on some comical relief. I can't write a good, complete uninterrupted angst-drama to save my sorry existence.
A.N.: Yikes! I just realized that I haven't been replying to the reviews! Where had my brain gone? You know, I bet it's somewhere in the couch…That's where everything I loose goes. Geh, well, I shall endeavor to reply all my wonderful reviewers from now on, really I will. I don't think I've ever gotten so much praise in my life. I'm starting to feel bloated. Possible? Yes. Yes it is. ::explodes::
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" To fall in love is to create a religion that has a fallible god."
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Perverse: Marked by a disposition to oppose and contradict. Resistance to guidance or discipline. Marked by immorality; deviation from what is good, right or proper.
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Chapter Four: Horror on the Heart Strings.
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Time changed, dancing forward in its solitude, uncaring that it waltzed alone. Destiny and chance stayed as wall flowers, waiting and watching. Minutes and hours trailed in the wake of Time as was their duty. The ethereal and the divine order carried on, regardless of mortal and immortal coils being woven.
Blissfully ignorant of the perennial flow going on about then. Sesshoumaru and Kagome lived in their own worlds. Worlds that had never quite touched, but were now being melded together by Fate and the pain of lonely hearts. All though, one remained unknowing of it's pain, frozen by time as it was. The other, cowered away from any contact. That of course, would all change, if Chance had her say in the flow of things.
So Time danced on, and the order carried on.
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Feeling much like a soggy tissue, Sesshoumaru mutely offered her the cup filled with cooled tea and tried desperately not to grimace at the feeling of tear dampened cloth rubbing over his collar bone. It was…sticky. Not a feeling he was fond of. But he'd asked for it, he supposed. Damned compassion.
A small hand rested it's feather light weight upon his wrist, startling him into looking down to watch as said hand guided his own -that still held the cup - towards her lips. The rim of the cup met those soft petals and he automatically tilted the cup for her to drink. Dark amber liquid swished a moment against the white walls of the cup then vanished into her mouth and down the slender column of her pale throat.
He found the movements fascinating in a disturbing way.
The tea cup drained, her hand dropped back into her lap, and he pulled the cup away from her lips and placed it back onto the tray. He stared blankly down at the tray for a moment, turning a thought over in his mind. Next item of business… her bandages. He staunchly refused the abrupt urge to cringe; the thought of her screeching alone enough to make the hair on the back of his neck stand at attention, as he was sure that would be the way of her reaction.
The girl sighed then slid off of him, content to settle into the crook of his arm. His eyebrow shot up, bemused expression crossing his face and then was gone. Oh ho! So, she thought he was going to spoon feed her, did she?
...Oh, very well, he would. Deal. Must remember the deal. Of course, what with the lightening bolts railing up his arm and side from where she was curled, mixed with the lingering warmth of her body where she'd once been, he was rather hard pressed to remember anything other then the feel of her against him. It was rather thought scrambling, really. Though not entirely unpleasant, he had to admit.
"I'm going to have to change your bandages, Kagome-san. After you eat of course." He steeled himself for the indignant squawk and, quite possibly, a hand to introduce itself to his cheek. So much for a backbone.
When it didn't come, he shifted his position slightly and looked down upon the black crown of hair resting against his chest. She was such a trusting little thing, and so very fragile. A deep stirring inside him gave him pause, a stirring he didn't quite recognize. How strange, that this delicate creature should voluntarily choose to thrust him. He, a complete stranger. A past would-be killer. Given, she did not know who he really was, or if she did, she let nothing on. Her trust… The novelty of it was enough to amaze him. And then, if she remained in his company would she come to be as loyal to him and she had been to his sad excuse for a brother? Did he want her loyalty?
Kagome hid her flushing face from his view against the hard plane of his upper torso. The mortification came from both the realization that he was probably -definitely the one who cared for her wound and that he'd seen her undergarments. That and he'd get to see more flesh then she'd ever really let anyone else see in her life.
Sure, she'd worn bathing suits in public before but there was a big difference between a bikini and a bra and underwear. If she recalled correctly, she'd made the mistake of wearing her lacy black set… Crap.
What on earth had she been thinking? Had she even been thinking? Yet, she trusted him. More than she had any right to, she realized. How could one not trust the person that had saved their life? Well, she trusted him for the most part. But there was something inside that shouted to her to be on her guard, that nothing was as it seemed and her savior was no exception.
And then, how was she supposed to go about letting him change her bandages anyway? Kagome knew she couldn't possibly succeed in changing them herself. Deciding there was nothing for it, she nodded partially and felt him move away. The loss of warmth sent sudden, curling fingers up and down her spine. She frowned, not pleased by her sudden attachment to him.
Shivering, she wrapped her arms about her self and then turned to watch Hitori in silent scrutiny. He looked so very familiar… For a moment a wave of light-headedness crashed over her, making her vision blur. And in that one moment, pale silver blonde hair became pure white gold, green cats eyes morphed into slit pupiled molten gold orbs and streaks of deep crimson formed on alabaster cheek bones, giving them more enunciation. On his forehead a crescent moon of deep ocean blue bloomed.
So surprised was she, that she gasped and the vision shattered leaving only Hitori standing before her, beautiful features molded into a concerned expression. Bowl of soup still in hand, he resumed his place on the large bed. Moments later, she was looking up cross eyed at the pale flesh of his hand as he placed the back of it against her forehead, positively confused at his actions.
He spoke, "You do not seem to have a fever."
The pale brows knit together in consternation. Some distant monitor at the back of her mind noted it made him seem much more human than he had a moment ago. One step down from being an angel. What would that make him then, if not human?
"I..er, no, I'm fine really. Just, I saw something…when my vision swam…um." How to tell him that she had thought he was a youkai killer from the past? Somehow she felt it wouldn't fly well if she told him that. No doubt he'd think he'd saved a loon and just as quickly admit her to the nearest padded room.
Those intense eyes locked on her and her thoughts immediately froze in place. As though afraid that if they so much as twitched, he would see them. That he would know her mind inside out and she would cease being herself. But then, hadn't she already ceased being just simple Kagome, but was instead now known as the reincarnate of the miko Kikyou ? Or was she afraid that she'd lose that small piece of her unwanted identity as well?
She squirmed, tearing her eyes away from his and down at her fidgeting hands with difficulty. Only to nearly jump when the bowl of soup, ramen she noted, her gut clenching painfully, was moved into her line of vision.
"And what, pray tell, did you see?" Hitori asked then offered, "Soup?" Though, his asking held more of a note of demand then just a harmless question. Nonetheless, Kagome placed her hands around the bowl extremely careful not to touch him and took the pro-offered item gingerly. The ceramic was still very warm to the touch. But it was a welcome change; her hands were cold. Were cold, they weren't any more which was good. Very good. Oh, she was babbling again… And what size straight jacket do you wear miss? Small, medium. large or extra crazy?
While Kagome was distracted, Sesshoumaru had risen to his feet and noted with intent interest the flare of rouge over her cheekbones. Innocent. Bah, what a rarity, he briefly gave mind space to the thought then the somewhat odd notion that she was very strong indeed to have remained so pure (alas, he had fallen so low he was utilizing mediocre words like pure)for five hundred years. Said thought was quickly filed away in the junk folder, which he would no doubt chew on later.
Sesshoumaru felt yet another headache begin to spark behind his eyes. He quickly poured a spot of tea for himself and downed it gentlemanly and with finesse. Then without pause he plucked the fork from the platter and placed it in her line of vision as well. One small hand fluttered up, claimed the fork then settled the utensil in the soup with a bitty splatter. The spoon was raised again, rimmed with a rich in sodium broth and lifted towards her lips… hmmm.
The taiyoukai decided to take a seat in his cozy chair and momentarily rewrite the book of profane epitaphs with a gusto. Such horrid thought trials his mind was blazing. More tea? Thanks, don't mind if I do.
Contemplating the dark amber liquid, he listened to the clinking of metal against ceramics then the near silent slurping of broth. Silence resumed its reign, much to his enjoyment. He much preferred the quiet, and given his company, he figured it would be awhile till his solitude went uninterrupted once more. Yes, give the girl a few minutes, hours maybe, to regain her bearings and she'd be just as loud as she'd been five hundred years ago. Perhaps not loud so much as charismatic.
When the sounds of her feeding ceased to tickle his ears, he peered over the rim of his cup to investigate the sudden and complete lack of sound. The girl was inspecting the fruit. Avidly.
Sesshoumaru went back to his tea. He'd wait till she was truly finished. Unless of course she just liked poking and prodding produce. Strange girl. But then, he expected no less of her. Otherwise, he may have been disappointed.
At the moment, Kagome wasn't sure what to do with the fruit. Did he honestly expect her to get that down in her gut after eating such a large bowl of soup? With an injury to the gut no less? Hell, she half expected broth to start spouting from the hole she no doubt had in her belly. She sighed and picked up a slice of orange, or perhaps it was a tangerine, and stared at it a moment. On all accounts it was in appearance entirely innocent. Which was why she wasn't going to eat it. Appearances were deceiving, she mused with a small frown.
That decided, she dropped the sliver back onto the plate and shifted her attention back to her rescuer, who was currently sipping his tea demurely, eyes closed. Her eyes moved over him then dropped to the floor beside his cream hued easy chair. What they landed on was a book of sorts, but much too big to be a novel of any kind. No, she knew what it was. A sketch book. Briefly entertaining the wonder of what was held inside the thick paper covers, Kagome averted her gaze when the familiar sensation of eyes upon her made her look up.
Hitori's pale yellow jade orbs were examining her intently, one hand's fingers splayed under his jaw, elbow on knee. The cup he'd been drinking from moments ago dangled from the fingers of his other hand. He'd leaned forward. How he had been able to do that without her notice, she'd never know.
Their eyes met and held, for one instant in time his eyes flared a brilliant gold then faded back to the jade. Kagome felt a white-hot dart strike her in the heart, yet it was not painful in anyway. More, it felt like a premonition…
Somehow she knew this man before her was going to play a key part in her life. Perhaps her savior in more ways then one.
She blinked and the moment died, a new one taking it's place. Hitori had set the cup down on the floor and stood, then lifted up what she instantly identified as a first aide kit.
Again painful memories bombarded her and she closed her eyes, swallowing. Seconds later the bed dipped on her left side, Hitori's weight settling into the downy softness as his nimble hands made short work of the clasps on the white box then lifted the lid. Her head swiveled to watch him pull out a small pair of scissors and a good amount of gauze and other things.
The taiyoukai glanced up at her from the cover of her lashes and the pale strands of hair that fell into his face, examining her expression. A haunting pain echoed in the blue sea of her eyes, though she hid it well. She was about to cry again, and Kami help him but he hated it when she cried. Pain wasn't for her, laughter was. He could see it in the way she had smiled. Read it in her voice.
"Lean back on your elbows." He instructed, and waited for her to follow his directions. She did so; he moved his hand towards the blankets and pulled them up to cover her waist, blithely ignoring her blush.
Sesshoumaru pulled back and stood up, taking the rolls of scissors with him. The steel gray orbs followed him as he made his way to the right side of the bed and placed the scissors on the bed side table. They tracked him still as he crouched down and began unbuttoning her, well his, shirt from the bottom up slowly, careful not to let his fingers press down too hard. He stopped two buttons before he reached the swell of her breasts.
She flinched when the cloth fell open to expose white bandages stained by crimson. Her 'doctor' brushed aside the flaps of her shirt with gentle fingers then reached back to the table for the scissors.
Cold metal touched her skin briefly as he slipped them under the white bandages and began cutting. The gauze gave way to the sharp edged scissors and soon he'd finished. One arm slid under her and pulled her up, as the hand of the other arm pulled the cuttings away from her and tossed them on the lid of the kit.
Still holding her up, he continued to work quickly and efficiently, giving her the impression that he'd done this many, many times before. Kagome remained tensed, trying to hold up as much of her own weight as she could, no doubt trying to save him some the burden of holding her. She should have known better.
It was rather awkward to have a near stranger being the only thing between you and falling. Kagome could feel the corded muscles against her back shifted with every movement Hitori made, and it made her stomach knot. To have so much strength… the man nearly scared her, yet she wasn't truly afraid. It was almost like having…No, don't think of him. Don't or the pain will drown me.
The sensation of fingers trailing over her skin hauled her from the river of thoughts and then the sensation was accompanied by a feeling much akin to tape being peeled away from flesh.
Startled, her eyes flew down to her abdomen in time to see the bloodied square of gauze lifted away from her wound and tossed on the heap of dirtied bandages that rested on the kit's lid. Again the tears pricked at the backs of her eyes when she saw the full result of human corruption that had pierced her flesh.
Hitori delicately traced the wound's perimeter, barely touching the skin. He leaned over her slightly, grabbing another pure snow square and something else.
Before she knew what was what, he'd set her back to her elbows and was spreading an oddly hued paste onto the square. Then without warning the square was pressed firmly to the injury.
She whimpered when it began burning, causing her stomach muscles to tighten. Which in turn made the dull burning of the medicinal paste flare up into an inferno. He lifted her up again, one hand still pressing the gauze to her wound. Silently she vowed that as soon as she had the chance she was going to hurl something of substantial weight at him. The jerk…
He very nearly chuckled when he dipped into her thoughts. Hurl something at me indeed. Withdrawing his telepathy, Sesshoumaru lessened the pressure he was applying then moved his hand away entirely to curl his fingers around the roll of clean bandages.
"I am sorry, but it was necessary to ward off any infection. Unless of course you enjoy having festering wounds. Hold this."
She placed one hand on the end of the gauze strip and he began to wrap her in bandages once more. When he came back around, she moved her hand out of his way and he continued.
" In any case, you seem to be healing well. Merely a precaution." He secured the bandages, noting that she was being unusually quiet. Curious, he lofted his head and caught the crystal pools balancing in her eyes, ready to fall but afraid of the plunge.
Sesshoumaru frowned, still very damp from the last bout of woe she'd dragged him through. The pools spilled over, careening down the smooth expanse of her checks then dying on her trembling lips. Or falling from her chin and shattering on the red shirt she wore.
"Oh, now don't start that again." He warned, reaching up and wiping away the tears with his thumbs. She bubbled a weak laugh and did her best to sit up fully, without his aid. And yet, the salty rivers still spilled.
She whispered, "I can't help it. It hurts."
Puzzled, Sesshoumaru studied her closely, "Your wound?"
The girl gave a weak shake of her head, sending ebony curls to cascade over her shoulders. His eyes followed the movements, fell down to her willowy hands which were working on the buttons of her shirt.
"No."
Simple answer, but vague.
"Then what?"
"…My heart hurts." 'Hurts' was an understatement, given the amount of liquid she was leaking. How much water could human tear ducts hold anyways?
A brief pause, both parties caught in their own musings. He was the first to stir, "Why does your heart hurt?"
Kagome refused to look up at him, all to aware of the tears that still fell from her eyes. She was ashamed, he knew. Ashamed of her weakness, and that he was watching.
His eyes caught her swallow, apparently she was trying to decide on whether or not she could trust him., " Do you always pry into a persons private life?"
"Only when I've just saved said person life." He returned. So, she didn't trust him as much as he had hoped. Somehow, he felt a bit put out by her lack of faith in him. Granted he had no reason to be.
She shifted. "So you make a habit of saving strangers?"
"And yet, we aren't really strangers." Sesshoumaru continued standing up, taking the unused gauze and such with him.
"You see, we share a bond. Not a very strong one, I'll admit. But we share one."
The nearly slate gray eyes that peered at him through black stands of hair were intrigued in spite of herself. Her hands rested unmoving in her lap though he could see them shake. With fear or something else he didn't know.
"You felt it too, did you not? A dozen minutes ago." He watched her rapt expression grow even more cloudy with confusion. But before she could so much as breathe the question he knew danced on the tip pf her tongue, he held up his hand.
" Like an arrow. Or a dart?" When she paled he knew he'd hit the bull's eye.
She looked away with a small shudder, closing her eyes.
Sesshoumaru nearly smiled, exalting in his small victory. "I'm right aren't I? You did feel it. And the recognition, as though you've known me from somewhere before. Perhaps you don't realize it yet, but you do. I only wonder when you'll figure it out."
As he'd been giving his speech, Sesshoumaru had cleaned the small mess he'd made and now held the kit in one hand and the sketchbook in the other. Kagome remained silent, though the frantic rhythm of her heart reached his ears easily. Her breathing had hitched as well. He paused to look her small form over once more before exiting the room.
He'd given her a small clue. May hap she would discover who he was. He, however, couldn't seem to figure out who she was. Kagome Higurashi. Her name, yes, but not her.
"Perhaps," He wondered to no one in particular, "A more befitting name for the girl would be Kurai*." As he expected, no one answered.
End chapter.
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* Would be pronounced Cry. Great isn't it?