i.
Her hands are warm.
A soft sigh of content escapes his lips as she rubs his ears. Gently, softly, between her forefinger and thumb. She's humming –a quiet tune –as her hands slowly move from his ears to massage his scalp. It's been like this for a while –a couple of months of peace and tranquility. No shards to go looking for, no random Youkai attacks or the usual threats to their lives.
He enjoys ever minute of it; soaking it in, relishing in it. He isn't sure how long this will last, a few more months perhaps? Maybe a year? It doesn't matter to him; he plans to enjoy it no matter how long it lasts.
Her hands pause in their ministrations –just for a second –and he makes a noise of complaint. She laughs and despite the fact that he's annoyed at her for stopping, he cracks a smile –carefully hiding it against his folded arms. He breathes in deeply, the scent of grass and lavender filling his nostrils. Hearing her shifting beside him, he opens one eye to find her lying on her stomach next to him, her cobalt eyes so dark that they almost look black.
She says nothing but smiles, her hand still playing with his ears.
'This is…nice,' she murmurs.
'Yeah it is,' he says lazily, flicking his ears against her fingers.
'I love you.'
It takes a few seconds for his brain to register what she says. Eyes widening a bit, he licks his lips nervously, trying to find the right words to say. He can tell by the understanding look in her eyes that she knows he's floundering, that he doesn't know how to answer her.
Taking pity on him –or what he guesses is pity –she sits up and gently prods him to roll unto his back, leaning in close until their faces are inches a part. Her hair drapes around them, soft as silk against his cheek. He resists the urge to grab the back of her neck and kiss her.
'Kagome…I…'
She leans down and kisses the corner of his mouth. 'I know.'
Wrapping an arm around her shoulders he pulls her flush against his body, burying his face into the crook of her neck.
He can't say the words, because he doesn't know how.
ii.
She's upset with him.
He can tell by the way she isn't looking directly into his eyes, her face always tilted away whenever she speaks to him. That is, of course, during the times when she did speak to him, she's been avoiding him all day. He hates it. The separation, the silence, the tension surrounding them –so thick that its suffocating –whenever they spoke. He wonders how long he can last before he cracks.
She's planning to go home, her pack full of all her stuff, the jewel safely tucked away underneath her shirt. He notices how stiff she is when she walks –of course he does, he notices everything about her –and he can't help but feel a bit of shame, knowing that he was the one to upset her so much.
She says her good-byes, walking right by him –as if he isn't there –and his heart constricts a little at being brushed to the side so easily. Swinging her legs over the lip of the well, he notices her hands grip the edge tightly, knuckles going white as she throws one last look at his direction. Here is when he can see the tears in her eyes, and before he can stop her or even give a lame ass attempt of an apology, she's gone in a swirl of blue.
His friends give him hell as soon as she's gone. Saying things along the line of him being a 'Two timing bastard' or not deserving Kagome's friendship because of him being 'Clearly not over Kikyo yet'. He ignores all of this as he all but barrels into the well.
He finds her curled up in her bed, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. He isn't sure whether to speak first or to just jump back out the window. Instead she makes the decision for him.
'You love her.'
His answer is swift. 'I can't just forget about her.'
She gives him a sideways glance. 'She was your first.'
He fidgets under her gaze –he can feel how upset she is. He assumes that she wants him gone so he prepares to leave, only to find her holding her arms out towards him –like a child –her face still displaying the sadness she is feeling. No words are spoken as he climbs into her bed, pulling her onto his lap as he leans against the headboard. Tucking her head underneath his chin he keeps her close, trying to comfort her the best he can.
'I love you.'
'You should just forget about me,' he replies gruffly.
'The day I forget about you is the day I stop loving you.' He can feel her smile against his neck.
Pulling her closer, she kisses him lightly on the chin, her lips soft against his skin.
'That will never happen.'
He presses his cheek against the top of her head. He wants to say something –anything –that will convey his feelings for her.
He can't say the words, so instead he just holds her close.
iii.
He doesn't make it on time.
They were fighting a Youkai –one of Naraku's lackey's –and everything was going fine. They were winning –or so he assumed they were winning –because the Youkai was lying in its own pool of blood. They were victorious –or so he thought –because the Youkai wasn't moving, breathing, nor was it's heart beating. They were wrong.
It happens quickly, one minute she was running towards him worry and concern etched into her pretty face. The next, she was standing stock-still, her hands grasping at the large tentacle that managed to penetrate her through the stomach from behind.
He isn't fast enough. His feet moving on their own accord as he watches her being tossed aside and landing heavily on her side. He isn't aware of the fact that his friends are busy finishing off the Youkai, just the fact that Kagome is lying still –her heart beat barely reaching his ears –in a growing pool of her own blood. He doesn't notice the panicked screams of his friends as he reaches her limp body, falling unto his knees beside her.
With shaky hands he picks her up –gently –and lays her across his lap, brushing a few strays hairs off her forehead. He can't help the choked sob that escapes his lips as his eyes land on the gaping hole in her stomach.
Her breathing is shallow, so he knows she's still alive –just barely. Her eyes flutter open and he holds her close as he places a hand over her wound, trying to stop the flow, her blood warm against his hand.
'I –I'm sorry. Stay with me Kagome,' he pleads as he desperately looks at his friends for help.
She opens her mouth to say something, but instead a low hiss of pain escapes her lips. Her eyes start to close and he shakes her gently –panicked.
'Stay with me Kagome. Wake up. Don't close you eyes, just don't close your eyes.'
'I –I'm t-trying.' she stutters, her words slur together.
'I'm sorry, I-I'm sorry –shit –Get help now. It'll be okay. E-everything will be okay.' He's lying and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. 'Kagome…I…'
She raises a bloodied finger against his lips, tasting the metallic flavor on his tongue. She's trying hard to smile –for reassurance –but he can tell that she's scared to.
'I –I know.' Her eyes close one last time.
He buries his face against her neck, a strangled cry of pain escaping his throat.
He can't say the words, and he's afraid he's lost his chance.
v.
Her hands are cold.
He grasps one tightly in his own; her hand small and delicate compared to his slightly larger one. Her breathing is soft to his ears, and it's one of the most beautiful things he's ever heard. His nose hurts from all the strong scents of medication and disinfectant and he wonders how the humans in this time can stand the smells.
She's lying in a bed, her skin pale, so pale that she seems whiter than the crisp clean sheets she's lying in. Her cheeks, which used to be rosy with life, are drained of all colour and it terrifies him. He's afraid that if he holds her hand any tighter she would break.
He can feel there eyes on him though, those eyes that have been on him ever since he came through the well with her limp and bloody body in his arms. He can feel their hatred for him, their anger and fear of how he failed to protect her –even though he promised he would. They blame him and right now he does too.
He tries to ignore them –later they can talk –because right now he's more concerned with her safety than their judgement of him. But he can't, and right now he's starting to think that the best thing he can do for her –the girl who means everything to him –is to let her go. Hopefully it won't come down to that.
Her hand twitches between his, and her
breathing pattern changes, just a bit, but enough for him to take
notice. Sitting on the edge of his seat, he stares at her face, his
heart lodged in his throat as he squeezes her hand.
'Wake up,
please be all right,' he says quietly, kissing the palm of her hand
and placing it over his cheek.
Her eyes open slowly –blinking a couple of times –as she gazes around, confused.
'Kagome, thank Kami you're alive.' He wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. 'I'm so sorry Kagome, I will never let that happen to you again.' He presses a kiss to her temple, breathing in her comforting scent.
He pulls back, holding her hand in his. She stares at him, still looking a bit dazed 'I…I…'He swallows the growing lump in his throat. 'I l --'
'W…who are you?'
He isn't sure what's worse. The fact that she doesn't remember who he is, or the fact that once again he can't say the words which elude him so. His heart breaks. He drops her hand –which falls unto the bed between them –his breathing labored as he lowers his head, forcing himself not to cry. Biting the inside of his cheek, he raises his head and forces a smile.
'I…I'm' he licks his lips, 'not anyone important. Just a concerned friend.'
Getting up he backs away; eyes still downcast as his hand tighten into fists at his side. He can feel his claws pierce through his skin. 'I better go. Get…get well soon.'
He heads towards the door, walking past her mother who was silently watching the exchange between them. She places a hand on his shoulder, not quite meeting his heartbroken gaze. 'It's for the best.' She says calmly, squeezing his shoulder in a comforting way before brushing past him to her daughter.
When he steps out of the room, he leans against the wall, the plaster cool against his hot skin. Rubbing a hand down his face, he slides down the wall and unto the floor, not caring about the awkward looks he's receiving for his odd clothes or abnormal hair colour. Her words replay in his head. It's for the best, she claims.
He holds his head in his hands. 'It's for the best,' he tells himself.
He can't say the words and it looks like he never will.
End
