Chapter 12: Strangers
"Mila-kun." She whispered. The young lad jumped at the sound of her naturally velvety voice and his paint fell to the floor. The canvas almost tumbled but thankfully, he held it in place. He turned sharply to see Haruko-san standing at the doorway with a finger to her mouth, trying to stop herself from laughing at him. Instead of being insulted, he started shying away. "Gomen, gomen!" Haruko said, waving her arms with a dismissive smile. "I didn't mean to surprise you."
He managed a smile to her and blushed when she went inside his room without permission. Never had a girl entered his room before and surely, he didn't know what to do or say.
She walked into his room calmly and casually, as if she wasn't being rude, and instantly set her gaze behind Mila where there was a canvas with a painting. "Wow, is that really yours?" she asked, pointing at the painting.
"Ah—no, I-I-it's not finished yet—I-I—" Mila fumbled to cover the painting but Haruko, with her youkai speed, pulled the sheet on the floor out of his grasp and threw it to the other side of the room. Mila blushed again, no one had been this assertive towards him before. He didn't know how to act properly towards this strange girl.
"No, Mila-kun." She said, looking down at him from her standing position since he was, accidentally, kneeling in front of her. Seeing from his point of view, she would look like a general disciplining him like a parent. "Art is not to be ashamed of." Mila couldn't help but stare up at the impervious, enigmatic character in front of him. She was like a deep river, so deep that she was unlike anything he'd ever encountered before. Was she an artist as well?
She looked to the painting and started smiling again. She walked towards it and Mila watched with blushing anticipation if she would recognize the painting. Of course the body was still a bit blurry and the face didn't have its finer features yet but it was almost finished and very beautiful.
"It's really beautiful, Mila-kun."
Mila sighed inwardly, glad she didn't notice who it was. It was an angel crouched down to touch a single flower in a flower field, her wings spread high above her and her long silver hair flowing down her shoulders. The face was not yet applied but it showed signs of erasures.
"Why doesn't the angel have a face yet?" she asked him.
"I-I…I can't see the face." Mila answered truthfully. He stopped himself from drawing the face long before since he couldn't seem to get the image exactly right. To draw her real face was a shallow act and was not art at all, for him. He wanted to get inside of her heart and see the truth, the face of the angel he found.
She turned to him with a curious expression then smiled, "I wish you all the luck. She must be a very lucky girl to have the honor of being painted through your memory." Mila blushed again.
"T-Thank you."
Sesshoumaru looked down from his perch upon a tree as Kagome thanked the Chief for letting them stay and for the kimono especially made for Haruko. He did not have the chance to see Haruko all morning though, and he found himself constantly looking around with her name repeating in his mind. He wanted to see his daughter.
But at the same time, he wanted to keep his sight on Kagome. It was making him feel low to see her so cold towards him now. She wouldn't look at him, she wouldn't smile at him, and she wouldn't acknowledge him. He was guilty, he knew. He kept staring at her, trying to think of a way to have her look at him again.
Arg! Listening to his thoughts made him sick! What was this? What is this guilt? He was not guilty! He will not be weakened by this woman's—sadness? Arg! Silence, silence, silence! He tore his gaze from the cause of his aggravation when she finally turned to look up at him.
He was quick so Kagome had no idea that he was watching her. But still, he wondered what emotion he might see playing in those sapphire eyes of hers. Would it be the signature bright shine of happiness? Or would it be the dark abyss of disappointment? Arg! She was controlling him! Stop it!
"Sesshoumaru." He went frigid and stiffly turned his head to see her at the corner of his bright golden eyes. She was looking down at the fingers she was fumbling with and her foot tapped nervously. This should be the part where she apologizes to him. For what? For making him feel guilty. That wasn't a good reason nor was it her fault. It was a fruitless effort to blame someone else for something he couldn't comprehend. For something he very scarcely felt: guilt.
"Will you—will you…The village is going to have a festival tomorrow for us. They want us to stay a little longer. Inu-yasha says we should just leave…" she said, still not looking at him.
He composed himself, "And how am I involved in this decision?" it was back to where they began. Strangers. Nothing in common. Nothing to each other.
"Well of course, you're part of the group. If you want to stay then…we'll consider it." She admitted, still doing the best that she can to not look up at him.
Sesshoumaru thought quickly of his decision and looked down at her, piercing her with his gaze. "If Haruko wishes to stay…we will stay." Kagome looked up at him, their eyes searching each other for something both did not know. All they knew was that…it just didn't seem to be there.
"Alright." Kagome nodded. Strangers. Nothing in common. Nothing to each other.
Sesshoumaru had the compelling urge to jump from the tree and land in front of her, successfully stopping her and speaking his mind. But he didn't. He simply sat there, looking away as she turned and left to speak to his half-brother, her lover. (That is what he believes)
That night…
Kagome entered the hut to see only Sango there. She sat in front of her with a nervous look on her face and Kagome couldn't help but worry. She asked what was wrong and Sango nipped on her lower lip.
"Kagome, I don't know if I should tell you. But I also think you have the right." Sango started, looking her friend sternly on the eyes.
"What is it Sango?" slowly, Sango started telling Kagome what happened at the hot springs and slowly Kagome's eyes conspicuously took on a darker look. As Sango finishes, she acknowledges that Kagome looked worn compared to when she started telling the story.
"I'm…sorry to have to tell you this." Sango finished, looking at Kagome who closed her eyes with a slow sigh.
Kagome opened her eyes, silent rage in her eyes. "Does Sesshoumaru know about this?" she asked.
"No, I wanted to tell you first." Sango said.
"Sango-chan, don't ever tell this to Sesshoumaru or Haruko." Kagome said in a commanding voice that Sango didn't think the kind-hearted girl could posses. " I don't want any blood-shed tonight. We'll leave tomorrow afternoon after I say goodbye to Chief." She finished.
Outside, leaning on the wall beneath the window stood a silver hair maiden in a white kimono made of silk with red imprints of Sakura blossoms falling from its branch. Tears glistened in her eyes as the images of those women speaking so…hurtfully about her behind her back entered her mind. She was beautiful. So very beautiful that if anyone had seen her tonight, he would be captivated and his heart would surely be held prisoner to her enchanting beauty.
With grace only her father had taught her, she walked away just as Sango whispered to her mother, "Don't worry, Kagome-chan. I won't tell anyone."
Deeper into the night, we follow this enchantress and find ourselves drenched in the pouring rain. The skies are crying. Was she crying as well? A clearing is up ahead, rustling sounds could be heard. The source of the rustles, we soon discover, is that very enchantress we've been following through the night.
She was dancing in the rain in the middle of a clearing. It was a graceful dance that made her even more ethereal under the moonlight. Thunder boomed up in the sky and it seemed to have been giving her a beat to dance to, like the beat of drums.
She spun, her hair flying around her, her clothes hung to her frail form. Her face was serene and her eyes were closed. She caught raindrops in her palm and put those drops to her lips then held her hand out again to catch more and give it away. She danced like this, detached from the world in her own little one.
We then see a man, handsome was her in his formal clothes, his umbrella lightly held over her head. He was supposed to be patrolling the village but he seems to have found her unexpectedly and was, as expected, captivated. He was completely engrossed by her and his eyes seem to swallow her completely. What was his name? Oh, yes, now I recall. Shinta.
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