Mocha Latte
-Kitty
Chapter 13: Trembling
His head shot up in surprise when the door slammed open. At once, his body, startled into alertness, eased as he recognized the figure in the doorway. And then the scent of blood hit his nose. And then he saw her face.
Launching himself off of the couch, he flew to her side, his nose sniffing frantically as he tried to detect any injury that needed attention. Kagome, for her part, seemed to look right past him, stumbling blindly into the apartment and dumping her worn backpack to the floor. Her heavy, tired footsteps managed to elicit a chorus of tinkles from her shelves, the bells and decorative ceramics chiming out with concern. Her lips were tight and her eyes were red. At first, he was afraid to touch her, a confused terror coiling around his heart as he struggled to decide what he should do.
"Ka… Kagome?"
His voice sounded thin and hollow in the quiet space. He stood tense and anxious behind her, watching her stiffen before releasing a shaky sigh.
"Sorry," he heard her say, "I'll get dinner ready soon."
He stood frozen for just a moment more, a painful throbbing in his chest to watch one who'd been so kind to him suffering so clearly. He wasn't used to feeling this way, this piercing empathy for another person. His eyes were serious as they studied her, dirt smeared jeans, a blood stained shirt. Her hair was wild around her shoulders, sticking out at odd angles. But it was her face that struck him the hardest. She'd clearly been crying, and her eyes were welling with tears that had yet to fall. There was an angry slash across one cheek, and a drip of blood from a clotted nosebleed. The amount of concern he felt shocked him, holding him rooted and mute until finally crashing through whatever barriers he had about involving himself with others, prompting him into action.
"You look like hell."
He winced as the saner half of his brain gaped dumbfounded at this first ever attempt at comforting another. The lucky cat on the corner of her desk seemed to berate him for such a comment. The statement seemed to land, however, as the woman's shoulders heaved with a snort of laughter.
"Yeah," she said, weariness apparent in her voice, "You can say that again…"
She began to move toward the kitchen, every motion haggard and exhausted. There was a feeling of wrongness in him as he watched her begin to take out food for the both of them, a pressing feeling, pushing him forward with a hand and an offer.
"Just sit," he said, coming up behind her. He was taking the cold dishes from her hands before he was even aware of it. "I can do it."
Her eyes were round and surprised then they turned to look up at him. Despite enjoying this bizarre living arrangement for several weeks now, he hadn't ever stood so close to her before. Suddenly, he became very aware of her petite stature, how slender and delicate her arms and shoulders were. She wasn't frail, her entire aura seemed to exude a strength and fortitude, but up close, she really was still just a small human female.
"Are you sure?" she asked, surprise lifting her voice, bringing it closer to her usual, warm timbre.
"Keh, I know how to use a microwave at least," he said gruffly, suddenly self conscious. He jumped when she placed a hand on his arm, giving him a gentle squeeze. Looking back down at her, he was startled again to see a new wave a tears collecting on her lashes.
"Thank you," she said softly, "I'll… go clean myself up."
He watched her disappear into the bathroom, his ears pricking to hear the sound of running water. Then, shaking himself, he turned to the business of heating up leftovers from the fridge. The only refrigerator eager offered up the options, and the microwave buzzed industriously. Everyone was anxious to help make the apartment's tenant feel better.
Perhaps she'd forgotten, or perhaps she was too upset to care, but it wasn't long before his sensitive ears picked out the sounds of whimpers from the other room. He paused at first, teetering in his dilemma to check on her, on the one hand figuring she'd want some space, while on the other desperately wanting to do something, anything, to stop her pain. His hand hovered frozen in the air, sizzling reheated dish scalding his fingers. The whimpers turned to gasps, and he listened for just a moment longer before he finally couldn't stop himself any longer.
Knocking on the bathroom door, he called her tentatively.
"Kagome? You ok?"
Absolute silence answered him. Not even a splash of water or gasp of breath and suddenly, he was very, very concerned.
Bursting through the door, hard enough to knock it loose from its hinges, he rushed in to glimpse a very surprised face shoot up to meet his eyes. She was in the bathtub fully clothed, which in the moment caused him to frown with confusion and worry. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, her hair leaving muddy stains on her already stained shirt.
The clear distress he saw in the lines of her face created a similar agitated distress in himself. His chest felt tight and he was short of breath, completely helpless and clueless in how to respond to the situation. A fight he could handle, attackers from any and all sides. But a frustration took root in him as he struggled, here, to decide a course of action, completely unprepared to comfort another, afterall, it was an action he'd never himself received before meeting Kagome.
The frenzy of emotion swirling to life inside of him caught him off guard, prompting an unfiltered remark.
"What's wrong with you?"
He immediately wanted to bite off his tongue. But Kagome seemed to understand the meaning behind his hard, gruff tone and unfeeling choice of words. Much to his relief, a smile temporarily appeared on her face as she huffed a half hearted laugh.
"Yeah, I look like a wreck right now, huh?"
He realized something as he looked down at her, her wide, guileless eyes staring up at his. Pain and suffering was a normal baseline on which his life had been built. It didn't bother him anymore, not in himself, and not in others. But, as he stared at her, dark hair plastered across her face, her cheek puffy as the angry cut swelled with inflammation, he found that he cared, deeply, about her pain.
He moved, again unconsciously and without thinking. The water around her was murky and brown, but despite that, he reached down into it, finding the backs of her knees and wrapping another arm around her back. She made no move in protest as he pulled her from the water in a single strong motion, feeling a release of sorts to be holding her firmly against his body. Carefully, he set her down, supporting her while she found her feet and engulfing her in his strong, flannel covered arms when she shivered. They were silent at first, for a breath, and then he felt her tremble, her shoulders shaking. And then a gasp, and a sob.
When her arms came up around her, he was surprised to feel a wave of joy despite her continued sobs and tears. That she would pull him closer in this time of weakness, it was a validation of sorts and his heart swelled as she pressed herself against it. Finally, she took a sharp, shaky breath and whispered into his chest.
"I was too late," she whispered, "I couldn't save her in time. I promised I'd find a way to save her and I didn't make it in time."
He brought up a hand to stroke her hair, disregarding the dirty water soaking into his shirt and pants. They weren't his clothes anyway. At this point, everything he had came from Kagome.
"She was a tree spirit," Kagome continued, "I'd been working her case for months. The developer must have bribed somebody to expedite construction and they just tore her down. And then…"
A new wave of sobs swept through her and he held her steady through it. When it ebbed, she became very still, pushing away from him slightly to bring her hands to his chest. He tamped down a shiver when she slipped both her hands inside his shirt, a small part of him panicking over what she was doing and the reactions of his body to such a stimulus. But Kagome seemed focused on something else, her eyes seeing through him. Her hands rested above his chest, feeling his heartbeat, strong and even, if a little fast. Her head was bowed and he couldn't read her face. In normal circumstances, he would never have allowed such proximity for so long, much less wait so patiently for another person to remove her hands from inside his shirt. But he waited for Kagome, watching her as she eventually leaned forward to press an ear to his chest.
"She became an evil spirit," she murmured, "And… to save the people that killed her… to save the people that would eventually live in the apartment they were building… I had to exterminate her…"
Inuyasha distinctly felt a number of very different emotions juxtaposed against each other. A powerful sense of anger over her pain, that someone so kind should be hurt in such a way. An overwhelming sense of joy and comfort in their intimacy, the physical sensation it was to hold and be held so tightly. He felt a gratitude for this woman, and amazement that she would allow herself to care so much and leave herself vulnerable for this sort of pain. And beyond it all, a new feeling he was sure he'd never encountered before. A protectiveness that went beyond obligation or duty, a possessiveness that bound him tighter than any rope or chain. He lost possession of himself at that moment, though even his subconscious did not recognize it. But then, could there be a safer place to entrust his heart than here with this woman?
A/N: It's been a while for this fic, huh? I wanted all the chapters in this to be relatively stand alone but… a part of me wants to see what happens the rest of this little evening… ;) i might make this little scene a two parter
Also, hugs are the best, aren't they?
