The lies ate away at her. "How's Inuyasha?" Her mother inquired cheerfully. They were at the dinner table.
Kagome wasn't ready yet; she didn't want to say it out loud to herself, let alone her family. "Fine." Lie. Glazed-over chapters were more appealing than reality. Her family tried to handle her problems; still, the strain wasn't something they could ignore forever. Her mom hadn't cracked yet, but Kagome could see splintering...
"How're you?" Souta asked. Metal utensils glinted in and out of the evening's shadows. Their faces: Grandpa, Mama, Souta, and Sesshomaru, were all watching her--judging her. Well, except for Sesshomaru.
She swallowed a sticky ball of rice. "Fine." Lie. Souta was so young; she didn't want to bruise him with harsh truths. He'd see, one day…
Her Grandfather pointed his chopsticks at her. "You'd better not be thinking about this demon, Kagome." He frowned at Sesshomaru. "Find a nice, human boy."
"I will." Lie. Poor Grandpa, cursed with her as a reckless granddaughter. All of his friends had great-grandchildren. He'd have a heart attack if she told him about Inuyasha. Why worry him? He may as well be happy--he was so old…
Sesshomaru observed, his shoulders straight and pushed back. The table before him was empty; she'd yet to see him eat. His face was blank. Maybe, in some ways, she liked his empty expressions. If he wasn't sad, she wouldn't feel guilty; if he was frightened, she wouldn't worry. She didn't have to change for him, because he never let her know what he wanted. "How if your meal, Kagome?" His low voice carried throughout the room. A simple question--a distraction.
"It's fine." She smiled half-heartedly.
He nodded so imperceptibly that her family didn't notice his movements. He understood the pressure, the responsibility, the weight of everything dragging you down.
He understood her. 'Thank you, Sesshomaru.' She knew that he hated it when she pretended.
They were alone in the kitchen. The clock ticked.
"I'm only nineteen." Kagome moaned. She looked down at bits of moss-green leaves swirling in her mug. "It's not fair."
Sesshomaru's eyes gleamed; the rest of his face was hidden in the shadows that fell across his body, catching in the folds of his robes. "What?"
She pouted, secretly basking in the pleasure of being the one who complained. She'd never talked with someone who was willing to devote so much attention towards her. She'd always been the person to soothe everyone else. "Most people my age, they've been off partying the last five years."
His shoulders rose gently, then fell into a shrug. He paused before speaking, his eyes focusing on nothing. It reminded her of Kaede's glazed over look before death. Kagome was hit with a sudden, sick feeling. Those shocks were getting fewer and further between, though; perhaps she was beginning to accept the old woman's demise. He parted his smooth lips and spoke. "I have overestimated you. It is disappointing that you compare, still." His tone carried no emotion.
Her stomach dropped. Shame and anger twisted up her heart; she didn't look up at the youkai. Compare. Was that so wrong? Red prickles crept up her neck; she could feel his eyes lingering on her face.
"I am Sesshomaru," he said. "I am content with that."
"Good for you," Kagome mumbled bitterly. She'd wanted sympathy--not a lecture.
The taiyoukai forced himself to stay calm and explain his thoughts. "Aren't you happy with who you are?"
She tried to ignore his words, but they dug through her sullen disposition and burrowed into her thoughts. She didn't really know who she was. She raised her head and tried to label herself. 'I am my mother's pain, Souta's idol, Grandpa's wishes and Inuyasha's memory. I am Kaede's failed apprentice and Kikyo's successor.' She was different things to different people, but who was she at the core?
Sesshomaru shifted in his seat. Slices of faded light were draped along the wall, honey yellow from the setting sun. Sitting with Kagome after dinner had a ring of familiarity to it. He was comfortable, at the table with his tea. Behind the shrine's walls the city's smells were a world away. "What can't you understand about such a simple question?"
He'd never had the best social skills. She rolled her eyes and ignored him.
The taiyoukai tried a different approach. "You are brave, loyal, intelligent, aesthetically pleasing, and strong--mentally, of course." He leaned towards her. A smooth bundle of hair slid over his shoulder and swayed, brushing the table. It looked like golden threads, all woven together perfectly in the sun's beams. "I am happy with who you are, Kagome." He didn't smile; he just continued staring at her, as if he were trying to psychically transmit his message. If he were content with her, shouldn't she be content with herself? He wasn't known to have low standards.
A lopsided grin formed on Kagome's startled face. "Thanks."
"It was not a compliment. I was merely stating facts."
"Okay." She continued smiling. "Yes, I like myself."
The demon leaned further towards her. Although his elbows rested on the table, his back remained straight. "I've seen pain a thousand times. My past has not been pleasant." A small smile grazed his lips. "Nonetheless, my choices have made me who I am. I can not pick and choose events I like or dislike. They have all produced I, Sesshomaru. And for that, I do not regret." His smile faded when he focused back on her face. "I do not compare either."
Kagome nodded, her irritation dribbling away. "Thank you." He'd been trying to help her the whole time. She suddenly stilled and cocked her head to the side. "Did you say I was 'aesthetically pleasing'?"
He recoiled and stiffened, his eyes widening by a hair. He raised his chin in a dignified manner. "When did I say that?"
"Just now."
"Now?"
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, now. Ten seconds ago."
He responded in his usual way: silence. His gaze wandered around the room, avoiding Kagome at any cost.
"You think I'm hot." Her self pity was forgotten--teasing the demon was too much fun! She was flattered that Sesshomaru, taiyoukai and lord of the western lands, most powerful demon on earth, found her attractive.
"It does not matter." He looked at the wall behind her head, his eyes reflecting nothing.
Kagome leaned forwards, chin in held up by her hands, and batted dark eyelashes up at him. "So, what do you like about me?" Her lashes continued fluttering absurdly fast. He thought that they looked like moths glued to her eyelids. "My big brown eyes?" She tried to smile seductively, failing when a giggle burst through her lips.
His indifferent shrug was followed by a long silence, thick with Kagome's quiet amusement. The clock ticked. Finally, his eyes rose and focused on her; they were narrowed confrontationally. Instead of climbing towards anger, though, naked honesty was wrapped in his smooth tones. "I like your hands."
"My hands?" She unfurled her fingers and glanced down at her palms. They seemed like normal, slightly wrinkled hands to her, pale due to winter's early arrival. "What can you possibly find attractive in hands?"
"Your fingers are always restless, groping for air or flailing in emotion." He twisted his wrists over and stared down at his own palm, smooth and sculpted. Her little lines and quirks were far more interesting. "They suit you."
Kagome's heart quickened. "Thanks." She bit her lip and twisted her head to the side, stealing a look at him out of the corner of her eye. "I like your skin." A lightness spread over her body; she felt airy, floating on her flirtatious comment.
He quirked an eyebrow; otherwise, he displayed no sign of having heard her. She tried not to stumble in embarrassment. "It's smooth--well, smoother than mine." She flushed, but pressed on. "And it reminds me of the snow."
This time he spoke. "The snow?"
Her heart hammered; she could feel it beating in her hot ears. "Yeah, when it's speckled with blood." She swallowed and licked her dry lips. "I know that doesn't sound too great, but it just comes to mind. The snow is cold and clean, and the blood is hot and dangerous, and they both overlap to form this oddly beautiful picture… I don't know." She focused on the tabletop, and hoped she hadn't made an idiot out of herself.
Looking at the girl before him, a swell of affection overcame Sesshomaru. "Thank you."
Their eyes met, across the cold sea of age and time. She was smiling.
"I had a father, once." It was late: the moon was towering over the windowsill, leaking silvery light over the curtains. The family was asleep. Kagome and Sesshomaru were in the living room.
He said nothing in response to Kagome's statement. He was sitting on the small couch, with it's back pressed against the wallpaper and an armrest pointed towards stars beyond the windowpane. When she didn't continue speaking, he edged closer to her in order to show his interest.
She continued. "He's dead. I was seven." Her body suddenly felt warm and damp, stretched along the larger couch. Her head lay on a cushion; from her point of view she could see Sesshomaru's torso swim in shadows. She'd told this story many times over the years-- "Where's your father, Kagome?" they all eventually asked. Only Sesshomaru hadn't, and for that she felt compelled to give him an explanation. "It's common, really." Her face flushed. She always felt nervous, for some reason, when she talked about this. "He was driving to visit his brother, when another car sped through a red light and hit him. And that was it."
"You miss him?" The demon asked.
Kagome watched the stars flicker, light struggling to burn bright in a black ocean. "I don't remember much of him." She didn't feel guilty about saying that in front of Sesshomaru.
His voice caressed her in the darkness, cool and soothing. "I remember my father in moments that aren't relevant. Scenes have stayed with me: rain in the courtyard, an embrace beside a river, his hand near to mine. I do not remember much either."
"It's weird, how perception is like that." She took pleasure in being open with Sesshomaru. She didn't know why she afforded him with so much trust; it just seemed right. "It's not like I have a line of memories; they're more like little moments, all piled together out of order. Do you know what I mean?"
"Yes."
"And I was a kid when he died. Sometimes I feel like I never got a chance to know him. As a person, you know? Not just a parent."
Sesshomaru thought of all the great things people said of his father: the most powerful, wise, and cunning ruler. Sesshomaru couldn't link together the legends and memories. At times he wondered if he'd been given just a few more years, would he find truth inside the tales? "I did not know my father either."
A burning lump grew in her throat. She didn't normally get so emotional about her dad; perhaps it was because she was with someone else who understood it all. "It sucks." Her voice was thick and foreign to her ears. "I can't even miss him if I didn't know him."
Sesshomaru leaned back against the padded chesterfield. "You can miss what you never had. Absence hurts--knowing something should be there, but it's not."
Images of a red haori flickered before her eyes. Inuyasha still weighed heavy in her heart. "Yeah. It hurts a lot. " The clock continued ticking. Kagome missed the hissing of cicadas, and the cricket's song amidst high grass. She'd never liked winter.
'Father is dead; yet his memory lives, and I must carry that burden.' Sesshomaru recalled all the snapshots in time that were so meaningless alone, but put together they formed a child's view of a parent. He thought that if his father were alive, he would be less than half of what people said he was. And if he were alive, that would be enough. Sesshomaru missed his presence, his footsteps, his smell. He mourned with someone else, for the first time.
Sesshomaru thought that even though it only took a second for someone to die, their death seemed to last forever. Memories don't fade with a body.
Kagome fell asleep there, her body spread overtop rough cushions. Her reluctance to leave Sesshomaru alone had driven her to stay awake as long as possible. Unfortunately, willpower couldn't compete with biology--the girl was out cold.
Sesshomaru was a white statue in the dark, his luminous eyes staring steadily at Kagome's tired body. He wasn't filled with an urge to run away over the mountains; rather, he was content to sit at the girl's side and watch her sleep. Her chest rose and fell jerkily with her deep breaths, and her hands were little fists near her head. She looked too frail when she slept, Sesshomaru thought.
He wasn't blind to the bond growing between them. There were only humans in this era, and he didn't wish to be alone forever. He didn't want let to fear hold him back. Still, that warning: 'If I know her, she will dissapear' blinked in his head. He would research once the sun rose--he would find out what happened to his race. Kagome made a pathetic noise in her sleep, and her fists tightened. Sesshomaru stayed by her side, all night long. She was too fragile to be left alone.
A/N--Okay, three words: No. Microsoft. Word.
This chapter was a pain in the ass to work through. I apologize if I have any spelling mistakes--if I do, feel free to point them out. I'd rather have one person mail and tell me then a hundred people noting it but not saying anything.
Three more words: Math unit test. I'm not a mathematical person at all. Wish me luck--the next installment may take a while.
Thank you to anyone who takes the time to review/comment on the story thus far. Thanks for reading!
