Choices
When I emerged from the alleyway backing off the laboratory and stepped onto the main sidewalk, Sesshomaru was there. He was leaning up against a streetlight looking as though he hadn't a care in the world. The light from above spilled down onto him, basking him in an unnatural light that accentuated the definition of his features. I was taken back by what I saw.
His face was lifted slightly upwards towards the sky, his eyes were closed, and he was…smiling. I rubbed my eyes thinking that they were playing tricks on me, but when I looked again, the smile was still there. I just knew that smile couldn't mean anything good.
I took a quick look around to make sure that there weren't any gutted pedestrians scattered about the sidewalk, or another attempted mugger that had been disemboweled or beheaded during my absence; but there was no one around, no blood on the ground, not even any cars rolling down the street. There was only the Taiyoukai leaning against the streetlamp with a terribly uncharacteristic smile plastered on his lips. I tried my search again thinking I had missed something, but again I found nothing out of the ordinary; except for one thing which caught my eye.
I immediately shook away the idea, it was just preposterous. I looked back to him thinking I must be mistaken; that he wasn't smiling and that it would have nothing to do with the bright red…but the smile was still there. I couldn't help looking back to the innocent piece of metal protruding from the ground which sealed away the water supply in case of emergencies. Bright red, immobile, passed by without notice by countless thousands as they made their way down the streets during the rush of the day, only given heed to by the instinctual calling of our four legged friends, no doubt cast with the marks of hundreds if not thousands of the little furry buggers, irresistible to them when passing by. Still…there was just no way. But when I looked to him again, the smile was still there.
He must have known I was looking at him. His senses are far too advanced to miss something like that, and he is far too much of a warrior to allow himself to be oblivious to his surroundings. He knew I was watching, and yet still that smile. What could it mean? I was drawn back to that object on the street not five feet from where he was standing. I just had to say something.
"Ummm…do I need to tell you about the laws against doing stuff like that?"
He cracked his eyes open to look at me.
"Laws against waiting?"
"Well, technically there are laws against loitering, and against carrying weapons in public, and against defacing public property."
"And against breaking into laboratories at night and stealing chemicals kept locked in vaults?"
Well he certainly had me there, but I got the feeling he was trying to divert me from my original question. Whatever, if he wants to go around marking his territory in a world that he won't see again, or at least will have to wait 500 years to see again, that's his prerogative. I gave up trying to figure out what he was thinking or doing and decided upon the more direct approach.
"Why are you so happy all of a sudden?"
He lifted an eyebrow. "I am not 'happy'."
"Then why are you smiling?"
"I was thinking."
"About what?" I just had to know what could make the big bad Ice Man smile like that. I had been certain that his reason for smiling would be nothing pleasant, but the way he had answered my question had opened a whole now chapter of possibilities.
"About the choices we make, and about those made for us."
"Ok. So what choice have you made that has made you so happy?"
"I have not made a choice."
Well that wasn't very helpful. I hadn't a clue what he was talking about. What choices? We make choices every day. I had made a choice as to what underwear I was going to put on today, but that is hardly something that would make me happy (Well to be honest, it sort of did because I found a pair in the bottom of my bag that had a cute little bows on the sides that crossed my hips and they make me feel pretty; but that's hardly the point I was trying to make). And if he wasn't talking about a choice that he had made, was he talking about one that had been made for him? But that hardly sounds like something he would be happy about. Let's face it; the guy is somewhat of a control freak.
So if he wasn't talking about that, was he implying that he was thinking about a choice I had made? But I hadn't made any choices that involved him. He hadn't even been with me when I escaped the lab. As far as I knew he had just been standing there under that streetlamp doing…whatever he was doing. But then, given his abilities, he may not have had to be present to know what had happened during my escape from the lab. So then if he was referring to a choice I had made, and it was a choice I had made recently, what choice was it?
Then it dawned on me. I remembered what he had said to me before he had disappeared for the second time.
'Know your place bitch', that is what he had said. I would have taken it as him using the term in a derogatory sense were it not for the implications of that word when coming from him. For him, the word bitch has a much greater meaning, especially when spoken to a female in such high standing in his pack. I had almost called him on his use of the word before he had disappeared, but now I was reminded of it yet again.
But still, it was not his choice he was talking about. The choice he was referring to was my own, and I finally had an understanding of why he looked happy.
"Did you think I would say yes?" I figured since I had to put so much thought into his cryptic comment, then I could make him grasp at a few straws or at least have to choose his answer carefully.
"You are the same."
"Because he's human like me? Do you think that would matter? Do you think that has anything to do with that choice?" Of all the ridiculous reasons to think I would say yes to that proposal. "What I am and who I am are not the same thing. I may be human, but that doesn't make him the same as me."
"Indeed."
I had come to the conclusion that he was a lost cause in the art of conversation. But still that didn't stop me from pressing him about the other matter now that the choices he had eluded to were out in the open.
"That still doesn't explain why you are so happy."
He raised an eyebrow, which I'm certain was a reminder to me that he had already told me that he was not happy and that he isn't the type to repeat himself unless you want for a death threat to be accompanied by it.
"You are impossible," I sighed as I shook my head at his lacking answer.
"And you." He was standing right behind me, his arm slipping around my waist. I never saw him move, but in a way I felt it. Something deep within me alerted me of his movements, something that could keep up with his speed; something that I had never felt before but which grew so much stronger when he was this close to me.
I felt his power rising around us as he pushed away from the ground. He had taken us into the skies again, leaving behind everything but the majestic view of the night. I sighed and relaxed into his hold.
"Impossible," I smiled at the thought. "I guess I am."
I contented myself to ride the rest of the way in silence. I found that in doing so, I took notice of things that would normally escape my attention.
Even though he was holding me steady with his arm around my waist, my feet were actually standing on something of substance. I tested my weight on the swirl of energy beneath my feet, and found it to be sturdy enough to support me. Using my newfound knowledge of this particular brand of travel, I turned myself around in his hold so that I could face him. He glanced at me momentarily as I did so, but he just repositioned his arm settling his hand on my hip to allow me more freedom of movement before he focused again to where we were headed.
I used the little freedom I had gained to look around for a minute or two, but I soon found myself feeling the effect of the chill night air from the heights we were soaring. I hadn't noticed before, but in all the times he had carried me like this he had not only been supporting me and ensuring my safety, but he had also been sharing with me his warmth. I decided that I wasn't about to let myself catch cold simply for my curiosity, so I leaned my body against his and allowed my arm to wrap around his back so that I could pull him and his wonderful body heat closer.
Again he shifted to accommodate me, but still he didn't say anything, nor did he for the rest of the journey back to my home.
When we arrived back at the shrine, Sesshomaru set us down in the yard next to the God tree. He released me and started walking towards the well house. I made to go after him, but something gave me pause. I turned back to look at my house where my family lay sleeping.
I don't know how, but even though I couldn't see him, I knew that he had turned to look back at me.
"I feel as though I should say something to them," I told him. "This may be my last chance. We are going into what very well may be the final battle against Naraku. I think they have the right to know."
"In telling them, what would you accomplish aside from making them realize their fears?"
I knew he had a point, telling them I was going into the final battle would only make them worry; but still…
"But what if this is the last time I can speak with them? What if I don't…"
"Kagome," he didn't let me finish the thought. "You will return. I will see to it."
I turned towards him and found him standing next to me. His expression was intense, and I could see the conviction burning in his eyes. He was telling me he wouldn't allow me to die, that he would protect me. But it was more than that. His hand was rested tensely upon the hilt of his sword, but not the sword he uses to take life, the one he could use to give it.
I reached out and touched the hilt of the legendary fang of heaven. Tensaiga had been crafted from the fang of Sesshomaru and Inuyasha's father, and bequeathed to his eldest son after his death, just as Tetsusaiga was left to Inuyasha. The swords were symbols of power and of mercy, for they had been made to give life, and to protect the lives of those in danger. So many times had I been saved by one of these fangs, but still the prospect of having to rely on the magic of this sword had me unnerved.
Almost as though it sensed my unease of its power, Tenseiga surged under my fingers. The sword pulsated with a strange resonating buzz and began to shake within its sheath.
"Tensaiga is speaking to you. It reacts to your touch."
I wanted to look up at him, to ask him what he meant, or what the sword was telling him with its eerie call, but I could not take my eyes away from the building glow of energy surrounding the sword. I could feel the power of it growing under my hand, but it was not repulsive, instead, the sword seemed to be drawing me in. Not only that, but it was drawing from me more than my attention.
"What's happening?"
"Tenseiga draws upon the innate energies of its wielder. Though it has its own abilities, they must be fueled by a power from without."
What he said struck a chord with me, but not because I feared what the sword was doing. Rather, I was thinking about possibilities that might come about by such a thing. Tenseiga was a conductor of energy. It draws out power from its wielder, converting that power into its own before releasing its blast. But that it was able to draw power from me as well as from Sesshomaru gave me an idea.
I moved my hand down the hilt of the sword, brushing Sesshomaru's hand away so that I could take hold of it. He allowed me to do it, and when I had a firm grip on the sword, I pulled it from its sheath.
Tensaiga continued singing to me its eerie song, and I think I knew what it was saying. The pulsing of the blade, the calling that whispered in my heart, it told me what to do. I brought the tip of the blade downwards and trust it into the ground. I kneeled down next to where I had planted the sword, but still I did not release my hold on it.
"Sit with me," I beckoned to Sesshomaru. "Take hold of the sword as I have."
He looked at me curiously for a moment, but then did as I had asked. He kneeled on the ground by the sword across from me and reached out to take hold of the hilt. He looked to me for an explanation, but instead of explaining my intensions, I asked him a question.
"What I am to you Sesshomaru."
He studied me for a ling time before he finally gave me a reply.
"It is your choice."
I had hoped that just this once he would be able to give me a real answer. I was sick of trying to read him, sick of trying to decipher what he was thinking from his cryptic statements; but mostly I was sick of not knowing the answer to that question. However, despite how much I wanted a real answer, I found that I knew well enough what he had meant when he had never truly said it.
"You mean that it is my choice whether or not to be with you."
His countenance shifted slightly. If I hadn't been so close to him I would never have seen it, but I did. I reached out with my free hand so that I could touch his face and smooth away the lines of unease.
"But why are you giving me that choice?"
He closed his eyes for a moment, before he opened them to look up at the sky. When he turned back to me I could see the resigned look in his eyes which spoke of a man that had given himself over to something he finally recognized to be greater than himself.
"Some choices are not ours to make."
"Perhaps," I mused as I brushed my fingers along the length of his cheek. I pushed back a few stands of his long silver hair, pausing to trace the unusual curve of his ear as I tucked the unruly strands behind it. I followed the line of his jaw downward until I could sweep my fingers across the soft velvet of his lips.
"But sometimes, fate's hand can be gentile."
I leaned forward then and pressed my lips to his. I could instantly feel the energy that burned through me because of the contact, but with us both grasping Tensaiga and it planted firmly in the ground, we were not forced apart. I fought through the pain and the discomfort elicited by our response to each other's energies, concentrating only on the feel of his lips against mine.
The kiss was soft at first as we both adjusted to the feeling of the surging power, but soon all of that was forgotten. He leaned into me to increase the contact between us, applying more pressure to my lips and teasing them into parting with soft strokes from his tongue.
I wanted so badly to be able to open myself to him, but the pain had begun to consume me. It was searing through my soul like a raging fire, burning through my defenses and sweeping me away with it in its throbbing wake.
I had to break away.
When I looked at him then, his eyes were dancing with golden fires lit from within; a burning of passion and desire. It was magnificent.
I was so tired, but I didn't want this to end. I didn't want to close my eyes. I couldn't leave him yet. A tear slipped down my face when I knew I couldn't hold on any longer. But he reached up to brush it away before it could fall.
"Sleep," he whispered to me in soothing voice.
I smiled at him before I closed my eyes. The last thing I remember I was being lifted from the ground and surrounded by a welcoming warmth.
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-sniff-…-sniff-…I think I need a tissue.
That wasn't really the intended ending for this chappie, but that was how it came out. It's kinda sweet though. And I'm such a sucker for things filled with all this ooey gooey goodness ;P
Chow
ShadowsWeaver1
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or any of the characters I am about to weave into my web of chaos. Any and all definitions have been taken directly from Wikipedia the online encyclopedia because I am far too lazy to do any further research to support my Inuyasha obsession.
