Just a heads up that this chapter discusses suicide and grief. I tried to be sensitive and informed in the way I approached this topic. Please let me know if you have any concerns about the way it is handled in this chapter.
…
The Call
~ Kitty
Chapter 12: A shower is forever falling
…
"On no subject are our ideas more warped and pitiable than on death. ... Let children walk with nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed, and as beautiful as life, and that the grave has no victory, for it never fights."
― John Muir, A Thousand-Mile Walk to the Gulf
Her brown eyes stared at him, wide and innocent and warm. She blinked as she gradually understood his question and briefly, he was afraid she would decline his offer. And then she shifted, bringing her full face into view and pulling the collar of his jacket down below her chin, tucked there snuggly and then she opened her mouth.
"Yeah, I do."
Her eyes smiled and her lips curved slightly. Encouragingly. And suddenly given the cue to speak, he found himself at a loss for words and didn't know where to start.
"I…," he tried, frowning as he considered how to explain himself, "I'm…"
He jumped to feel her fingertips lightly trace the line of his cheek. While objectively, her face could be described as smooth and neutral, he somehow felt profoundly like she could speak to him with only her gaze and was understanding of his struggle to communicate.
"I couldn't do it," he whispered finally.
Kagome's eyes narrowed as she tried to read into the few scant words he managed to say.
"She wanted me to follow her, but I couldn't do it."
There was so much communicated in her silence as she watched him. Her gaze was direct and open, earnest in how it tried to understand him. There was sympathy there, of course, different from pity, and nonjudgmental. And some uncertainty, her brain struggling to fill in the gaps in between his stuttered sentences. Her lips were parted unconsciously, mouthing a question for clarity but the query was held back and instead her stare waited with patience and encouragement for him to find a way to share the darkness that lay in inky shadows behind his eyes.
"When I found her, it was too late," he said, voice dropping even lower, "She said she'd be waiting for me, but… but I just couldn't do it."
…
"I'm sorry, Inuyasha, I can't keep running this race anymore. My only solace is knowing that you won't let me be alone for long. I'll see you soon, my love.
-Kikyou"
The slip of paper trembled as his eyes scanned the neatly written note. Fluttering, it slid out from his fingers like water, falling to the floor. His lungs burned as his brain slowly kicked into gear. And then suddenly, he was in motion, blindly racing upstairs, throwing open doors as he searched for her. A table fell over, a crash as their bedroom door separated from its hinges.
Empty.
The bedroom was empty, their study was empty. He stood stone still staring at their vacant bedsheets, his heart thudding in his chest like a wild beast driven to a frenzy. And then he heard it. Running water.
He'd rushed to the bathroom door, nearly twisting off the door knob as it resisted him.
"Kikyou?!" His voice cracked as he cried her name. "Kikyou! Let me in! Kikyou, please!"
Panic was bubbling up from the pit of his stomach. It grew like a ravenous snake, coiling around his guts and reaching upward to swallow his heart.
"KIKYOU!"
Another entity entirely took possession of his body. He was hurling himself against the heavy wooden door before he realized it and the pain that flared up from where his shoulder met the unyielding surface went unheeded as he desperately sought to reach her.
The wood cracked and groaned in protest of his abuse and then gave way in a scattering of splinters and he crawled through the jagged edged gap, his skin tearing in long, deep gashes against the broken door.
Her hair was long and dark and swirled in the water in graceful, curving lines. Her skin was pale, an eerie paleness that was tinged with grey and somehow sickening the longer he stared at it. At first, he wasn't sure if the ripples in his vision of her were from his own tears and his breath lodged in his throat so that the only sound he could make was a broken, croaking whisper.
"Kikyou?"
…
The parade of emotions on his face was heartbreaking as she watched him relive whatever nightmare it was that played behind his eyes. He wasn't giving her much to go on, but the dots she was connecting painted a horrible picture that she wanted to rescue him from.
"I couldn't do it," he kept repeating, "She's waiting for me and I couldn't follow her."
Just as he thought he would fall back into the endless loop of darkness, self-loathing, and guilt, he felt her arms come around him and pulled him against her chest so that his ear was to her heart. The rhythmic beating of her pulse seemed to settle him. This slender, small person, alive with a brightness that was occasionally blinding for his tired eyes. She pulled him tighter against her as though to share just a bit of that sunshine with him. He drew in a long deep breath and smelled her scent and his together, mingling with his coat and her sleepwear. There was something remarkably stabilizing about the thought of their scents melding with each other and helped to draw him back up for air. Eventually, he stilled and his breathing returned to a normal cadence and he gently pulled back to examine her face.
"You…," he said, hazel eyes meeting hers in a strange, painful sort of yearning, "You looked so much like her. At first it was all I could see."
Her eyes widened and flashed with understanding, then concern.
"What about now?" She whispered, her voice sounding small and frightened of what his answer would be.
Their noses were close and her breath fell against his face, warm and soft, the softest kiss in the world.
"Now I see Kagome," he said quietly, letting his eyes wander across her face. She let out a sigh, relieved.
"Can… can I stay like this for a bit?"
Kagome wasn't sure she could trust her voice to answer, so instead brought her arms around him again. His breath was hot against her chest and she shivered to feel it reach her skin. Gradually, tentatively, his hand came around her waist, pulling her body more firmly against his.
"I should have known," he murmured against her, "I knew she was struggling under the pressure, and I didn't help her."
"Shhh," Kagome whispered, bringing a hand to stroke his hair, "That's not true."
"I wasn't enough for her."
"That is absolutely not true!" Kagome pulled back, pushing against his shoulders to pry his body away from hers. She placed both hands on his cheeks, awkward in their horizontal position, and forced him to look her in the eye.
"I didn't know Kikyou, and I haven't known you very long, but I can tell you that is absolutely not true."
His dark brows were heavy and low over his eyes as he gazed across to her. He bit his lip as he squinted, like he was desperately trying to convince himself of her declaration, while at the same time, clinging to the narrative that had been whispered in his mind for the past seven years.
"She's alone, and she's waiting for me."
"She's at peace now," Kagome insisted, "She's free of her pain now. And she's right here with you."
Kagome pressed a small hand to his chest, watching as he closed his eyes and shuddered.
"I've lost too," she said quietly, "We carry those we lose, always. No matter how they leave us. We keep them safe inside our memories. And it's our duty to live as fully as we can for their sake."
A silence stretched out like a thin, high note held on violin strings. Gradually, Inuyasha shifted, clasping her small hand and pressing it harder against his chest and then he nodded, and sighed, and moved in closer, wanting the comfort of her arms again. Kagome moved obligingly, immediately enveloping him around the shoulders and sighing. Around them, rain continued to tap against their taught fabric tent and the hum of water and insects persisted outside their little shelter. It was warm and safe where he lay, pressed in close and more vulnerable than he'd ever allowed himself to be. And it was a heady euphoria that washed over him to be revealing these scars for the first time and to feel so wholly embraced for them. Without realizing it, he was drifting, and then, gradually, the dream wrapped around him again.
…
The slip of paper trembled as his eyes scanned the neatly written note. Fluttering, it slid out from his fingers like water, falling to the floor. His lungs burned as his brain slowly kicked into gear. And then suddenly, he was in motion, blindly racing upstairs, throwing open doors as he searched for her. A table fell over, a crash as their bedroom door separated from its hinges.
"Why aren't you here? Why aren't you here with me?"
She stood before him, hair drenched, skin ghostly pale. Her eyes were piercing as they stared into his and the snake coiled around his heart and squeezed it tight.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, half choked as his throat closed around his words, "I'm sorry, I couldn't do it, I'm sorry!"
"Why aren't you here with me? Why have you left me alone?"
"I couldn't!" He whispered desperately, his eyes begging her to understand, "I couldn't, I'm sorry!"
Her face seemed to morph before him and, briefly, panic and bile rose in his throat as she reached toward his face. But the fingers that touched him weren't frigid as they were when he'd pulled her from the tub, stiff and lifeless and cold. Her fingers were warm and the touch was gentle.
"Why didn't you come to me?"
His chest burned and it was only a faint, fleeting thought that registered that the voice asking the questions was deep, formed in a broad chest and a male throat.
"Why didn't you rely on me? Why couldn't you be strong for me?"
He blinked and stared at the figure before him. She was crying, her tears mingling with the dampness of her hair and then a pressure valve released in his throat and erupted in a sob as he collapsed to his knees on the slippery, wet bathroom tile.
She crouched down beside him, her fingertips grazing his chin to bring his gaze back up to her. Her eyes beseeched him, round and sincere. Something rose up inside him and his despair and anguish rushed out in a single, resounding question.
"Why did you leave me?"
She winced at his brokenly voiced question. The apparition didn't say a word but her eyes continued to bore into him. Gradually, painfully, it dawned on him what her tortured, sad eyes were trying to say, and a hint of comprehension entered his face. He blinked and squinted to examine her more closely, realizing the warmth behind the sadness in her gaze, and he reached out to her face to return her tender gesture. Kikyou seemed to smile, breaking their protracted stare and dropping her gaze down to his chest. Her hand retracted from his face and at first he moved with it, wishing to extend the contact. Then she pressed her palm to his chest, leaning in. When he met her eyes again, a true smile danced across her face, a smile he couldn't recall her ever wearing in life. And then he felt her presence dissipate around him and to his surprise, the heavy aching emptiness that typically followed in her wake was replaced with a strange, foreign, floating sensation. He was rising, lifted up by a power born from inside himself.
He thought of cotton grass, bobbing their large, fluffy heads in shy greetings when they first set foot on the taiga together. He thought of fireweed, busily and industriously repopulating the ashy wastelands following a blaze. He thought of the caribou, young and spry with its throbbing velvet lining reaching proudly for the sky. He thought of the flash of silver bodied grayling that shimmered beneath their rafts, darting and dashing through the crispy cold mountain creeks. He thought of the tiny weasel staring at them fearlessly from behind the tree stump and the flashy shrike that hunted beside their camp and the pair of hawks performing their incredible dance amidst a peerless sky. He thought of the moose cow and calf and the pulsing stillness of the ever evolving and growing land they traveled on. The mountains had been teaching him all these years by the example of its woodland inhabitants.
No matter what you come out here searching for, there's always one thing you're sure to find.
New life. The amazing display of small, insignificant lives fighting to thrive under the watchful gaze of rugged stone monoliths. The grit and resilience of wild hearts entangled together in this eternal dance of life, death, and rebirth, throbbing with a fervent, reverent joy for simply being alive.
He was alive.
That by itself is good enough.
…
Consciousness came to him slowly. He was warm and it was dark and it took him several moments to realize why. Her hands idly stroked the back of his head, pausing when he shifted and sighed and finally raised his eyes to hers. Their intimacy didn't register right away for him, there was only comfort, and familiarity, and a desire to stretch out this moment for as long as he could. Close enough for their noses to touch, they stared at each other for a time, the passage of which could have been seconds, or minutes, or days. Her eyes searched his and he wondered what she was searching for. He wondered what his eyes were telling her. The air was cool and moist but there was a heat inside their nest of puffy, downy covers, generated by their bodies and concentrated in the space between them.
"Hi," he whispered, breaking the serenity of the early grey morning. Her face stayed smooth, almost neutral, and yet it still transformed before his eyes as the tiniest shift of muscle caused it to open into a soft, shy smile.
"Good morning," she answered, "Sleep well?"
"Yeah," he said, his gaze soft, his lips curving gently, "Yeah, I did. Thanks."
Internally, Kagome gulped at the expression he directed her way. His eyes were direct and she swore he was staring into her soul. And so close, an inch or two more and she could have kissed the tip of his nose. But it was with mixed feelings as she continued to meet his eyes, searching. It had been a lot to unpack last night and she'd found herself staring up at the probing, persistent mosquitos milling around the fine mesh of her tent for hours, listening to his even breathing beside her. He never did quite get the full story out and she's been left to piece together the haphazard picture with only a few hints to guide the way. And the picture that was formed, however tragic, left her conflicted over what her part should be in the present story. She focused on his face, the lack of tension, the look of peace. Strange how she suddenly felt as though her insides were wound up tight and her brain was confused and tripping over itself as it tried to decide how to proceed. Blinking, she glanced up, toward the safe neutral ceiling of the tent.
Outside it was still raining, increasing from sporadic taps to a persistent hum and backlit by the diffused light of the ever present arctic sun, little dark spots with spindly legs laying pressed against the tent fabric. The distraction served its purpose and she frowned as her mind shifted to identify the off, leggy shapes.
"Ew!" Kagome exclaimed suddenly, the recognition of hundreds of insect corpses sending a wash of disgust through her, enough to sweep away her melodramatic thoughts, "Are those all mosquitos?"
Inuyasha huffed a chuckle as he glanced up and around them. The swarming army that had been sieging them in their tent had all been vanquished thanks to the gift of rain and their little, limp bodies clung to the damp fabric like flies on flypaper.
"Yup," he answered, rolling over to his back. An arm came under her head and she found herself lying pressed against a broad, firm chest and she stiffened briefly, before resolutely forcing her body to relax against his. If he noticed her hesitation, he didn't give any indication, and instead continued carelessly. "It's better than last night, isn't it? At least they're all dead now."
"But they're all stuck to the tent…" Kagome complained. Then she blinked, and frowned, and sat up abruptly.
"Fuck!" She whispered fiercely to him, her eyes bright and urgent, "Fuck! I left my clothes out to dry!"
It was silent in the tent for a breath, then Inuyasha laughed, tucking his abandoned arm behind his head and grinning toothily at her.
"Sucks to be you," he teased. Kagome squinted her eyes and stuck out her tongue at him, to which he only chuckled more. She sighed and sat cross legged, glancing around the fabric shelter, the light around them tinged orange and red. Her gaze was flighty, it was a confined space and she couldn't find anything for her eyes to focus on that wasn't the overly attractive man who'd laid his heart bare to her the night before laying beside her. His braid curled around beside him like a sleeping serpent and his bangs were mussed and wild. The angular face was relaxed and playful, a spark of mischief in his eyes that had been growing slowly since the day they first embarked on this expedition together. And now, beneath all this, there was a serenity that seemed to permeate his aura, surfacing in the languid way his muscles drew his smile to his ears. How could his obvious contented happiness create such anxious restlessness in her? Shouldn't she be happy to see how comfortable he was with her, despite her looks and similarities with someone who'd torn such a great rift in his mind?
Her distress eventually seemed to reach him and he responded gently.
"The tarp's doubled over," he said, sitting up and pointing upward, "Want me to open it up and make a little changing shelter for you? I can try to start a fire, too."
Kagome's relief was immediate and Inuyasha had to calm a flutter in his chest when she flashed him an open grateful smile. Her new awkwardness around him had not gone unnoticed, but her sincere appreciation for his offer quelled some of his budding apprehension. The return of more primitive concerns like shelter from the elements and a hot cup of coffee was enough of an excuse for both of them to shove past the new glass barrier between them in their minds. Kagome eyed him while he got to work, slipping on a couple rainproof layers before bracing himself for the elements. Following him, Kagome put on an exaggerated look of disgust as she exited the tent to collect her clothes.
"Ugh! This sucks!"
To say it was a miserable morning seemed an understatement. Cold, sodden clothes had an unfortunate tendency to wick all warmth from the body and Kagome was shivering before she could pull the clingy, wet fabric over her legs and hips. She hopped from foot to foot, hugging herself tightly inside Inuyasha's jacket, peering out from under the tarp he'd set up for her. Sango and Miroku were reluctant to emerge that morning, and despite her shivering, Kagome found herself laughing at the hidden couple while Inuyasha tried his best to encourage them out, cajoling them with a combination of threats and taunts.
"Inuyasha," a muffled, harried voice sounded from within, "If you think you're going to lure us out that way, you're in for a great disappointment."
"Get your asses out here or I swear to god I'll tear a hole in your tent!"
"If you do that," Sango's voice was hard and steely, "I will tell your brother to permanently end your ramen supply."
Inuyasha sputtered while Kagome enjoyed the warming glow of her laughter causing stitches in her sides. Eventually, coffee was brewed and consumed against a backdrop pitter-patter of rain and Kagome nudged Sango in an attempt to liven up their spirits, but Sango was inconsolable.
"Drip drip drop, little April shower beating a tune as you fall all around," Kagome tried, her teeth clattering as she struggled to remember the words, "Drip drip drop, little April shower, what can compare to your beautiful sound!"
Miroku groaned. "No Kagome," he begged, "Please, just no…"
Kagome pouted at him. "Fine then," she said, "Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens! Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens!"
Under her breath, Sango joined in. "Brown paper packages tied up with strings. These are a few of my favorite things."
"That's better!" Kagome patted Sango's shoulder while Miroku contemplated all the ways he could strangle Kagome without Inuyasha or Sango being the wiser.
"Cream colored ponies and crisp apple strudel…" The atmosphere was a strange mix of cheery and despondent in which the four humans lugged and dragged and hauled the packed rafts back to the river. Already chilled and shivering, the cold water felt colder than ever as they waded in until the rafts could float without obstruction. And then they were off.
"Doorbells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles, wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings…"
…
Damp is a very particular brand of misery that seeps into you just like it seeps into your clothing. Even if the vast majority of her body was dry, Kagome felt damp and cold, through and through. The cold crept into her in stages, first manifesting in her body's reluctance to send blood to her fingertips and toes. No matter how much effort she placed in her paddling, the skin on her arms were dotted with goosebumps and her fingers were numb. Movement was her friend, and movement was her enemy. While it produced the warm, beating heat that kept her body functioning, her skin would tingle and crawl as her motion disrupted the tiny, thin layer of warm moisture next to her skin and waft in a puff of cold, chilly air. And then she'd shiver and invite in even more cold. Eventually, her peppy, bright sounding melodies were overrun with her cold stutterings.
"L-let's go f-fly a kite! Up to th-the highest h-height!"
Inuyasha eyed her with concern, watching her stiff raincoat tremble as the muscles inside fought to generate some kind of life-giving warmth. Repeatedly, he offered his jacket, and repeatedly he was turned down.
"I d-don't want to get it wet," she insisted, "It's still r-r-raining."
Kagome was startled when she heard an animalistic growl behind her, and before she could turn and send him perplexed and concerned look, his arms descended around her, his paddle holding her hostage in the circle of his embrace.
"You're shivering is making me cold, wench!"
"I thought I told you to stop calling me that!"
"Let's pull over, I'm building you a fire."
Kagome protested, pushing upward against his arms in an attempt to escape. They were already falling behind as it is, with the dreary weather and the wind appearing determined to ensnare them in the arctic circle. When he released her to steer them back to land, she immediately dipped her paddle into the water, countering his attempts to head for shore.
"I'm fine!" she insisted, pushing upwards against his arms in an effort to escape, "It's just a little shower."
"I've seen it rain for two months straight!"
"Something wrong?" Miroku called from the raft next over.
Inuyasha took a recollecting breath before announcing, "We're pulling over!"
He was rough and gentle at the same time, bodily lifting her up and out of the boat to keep her from needing to slosh through the shallows. The muddy embankment shifted as he stepped into it, sinking down with his extra load. He set her down quickly, rushing back to the boat to save it from floating away, and then returned to toss his jacket over her head.
"Strip!" he ordered, before turning to search for standing dead wood in the trees higher up, their only hope for fuel that was not waterlogged. Sango came up beside Kagome, her eyes bright and hopeful for the promise of fire.
"Strip!" she said, attempting to pull her tone down to mimic Inuyasha. She laughed while Kagome rolled her eyes.
"I'm not that cold," Kagome insisted to Sango, peeling off her clothing regardless. Sango shook her head and patted Kagome's shoulder.
"I'm just impressed how close you two have gotten!" she said, laughing, "You used to be too shy to change in front of me!"
Kagome rolled her eyes and gave Sango a shove, but she also bit her lip and sighed, her thoughts briefly returning to the very laden baggage she'd learned from him last night.
"Sango," she said, lowering her voice, "Did you know Kikyou?"
The taller girl gave her a stunned look, freezing for a good full second before whispering incredulously, "He's talked to you about Kikyou?!"
"By your reaction, I can't tell if that's a good or bad thing…," Kagome said, confused apprehension dawning on her face.
Sango recollected herself quickly, shaking her head and taking a long breath. "I'm just surprised he opened up to you about her," she said, "He never talks about her. Even while he was dating her."
Kagome studied Sango's face closely. "Did… Did you know her?"
Sango blew a raspberry, casting her gaze toward the grey skies. "We knew her in the barest sense of the word," she said, "She wasn't really a fan of socializing, and I'm pretty sure she didn't like me and Miroku very well."
Tipping her head back down, Sango frowned at the grey rocks at their feet. As she continued, her voice took on a defeated tone. "We were already pretty much Inuyasha's only real friends. He basically disappeared after they started dating."
She now glanced up to observe Kagome. She was worrying at her lip, listening to all this. Kagome had always been an easy read, her expressive eyes as transparent as a smile or grimace. She could tell her best and oldest friend had a curiosity and attraction for their lone wolf guide and was suddenly concerned that Inuyasha's ex would throw a wrench in Miroku's plans. Sango pinched her lips together as she watched Kagome absorb and mull over the new knowledge. While she was onboard with the notion of their two best friends getting together, her loyalties ultimately lay with Kagome on this matter, regardless of how strongly Miroku wanted this to work. And Sango felt her friend deserved the whole picture before jumping in.
"The thing they had wasn't good for either of them," Sango said quietly, "But I think it was the easiest thing for both of them. It was escapist. They both came from dark backgrounds and I think they felt the other was the only person in the world who could really understand them. When they broke up, I guess Inuyasha wasn't ready to face the world again and ran off the Alaska."
And now, a flurry of expression on Kagome's face brought Sango to silence. The young woman's look was almost severe, her brows knitting together tightly as her jaw stiffened, the corners of her lips pulling into a thin, straight line.
"Where…," Kagome seemed short of breath as she spoke, "Where's Kikyou now?"
Sango was taken aback, answering without any real thought. "I don't know," she said, "Inuyasha never said anything. I just assumed she broke up with him when Miroku told me he'd found Inuyasha was living a log cabin out in the mountains."
Kagome's eyes flickered as she seemed to process a very large quantity of information. Sango watched her critically, a spark of curiosity beginning to grow as she wondered what Inuyasha had told her about Kikyou. She never had any great regard for the icy woman, but by Kagome's reaction, she began to feel there was a dramatic story there that she was missing out on. But Kagome kept the secret, putting on a smile and shining it on Sango with a blatant forcefulness that made the taller girl uneasy.
"Let's hang up our clothes," she said, "I think the rain's dying down."
Once again in his coat, Kagome and Sango busied themselves by wringing out damp clothing and draping it over a collection of convenient driftwood branches. Their conversation drifted to more menial things and any tension from earlier dissipated with the receding rain. Meanwhile Inuyasha hauled whole tree trunks from the nearby forest, sounding like a large, oversized forest beast as he crashed his way through the branches. Kagome's eyebrows shot up at the sight, equal parts impressed and humored by the image, leaves and twigs sticking out of his hair, with a decent sized trunk slung over one shoulder and tucked under the other. He glanced at her, the determined focus on his face softening a tad to see her swallowed up by his jacket once more.
"Start jumping around or something," he said, trudging to the bare gravel stretch and tossing the logs down nonchalantly.
Fire was a finicky flirt for Inuyasha for the next several minutes, some tinder catching briefly before ultimately fizzling out. Eventually, Inuyasha stood abruptly, grumbling a loud "fuck this!" and grabbing a bottle of kerosene and dumping its contents onto the sodden wood.
"Oh my god, be careful!" Kagome cried, alarmed. Inuyasha grunted as he flicked his lighter. Flame was immediate, erupting from the logs and branches in a whoosh, and he quickly began piling on the driest of their rain drenched leaves and twigs to achieve a self sustaining fire. Heat source tended to, Inuyasha turned to Kagome.
Kagome had kicked off her shoes in the process of undressing and she stood barefoot, carefully perched on a couple smooth stones amidst poking sticks and pebbles, and reluctant to risk the soles of her feet to step closer to the fire. In her eyes, he moved with a predator's careful stalk as he approached her and she swore his eyes seemed to glow, captivating her gaze and forbidding her from looking elsewhere. He paused briefly in front of her and she peered up at him, wide eyed, her heartbeat loud in her ears. Unceremoniously, he bent down and swept an arm behind her knees, catching her with the other when she fell backward with a yelp and carried her to the growing fire. He set her down carefully to stand near the flickering warmth and she felt him hold his position behind her.
"Not too hot?" He asked her softly.
"N-no," Kagome said, "This is good."
She wasn't sure when, but at some point between him quite literally sweeping her off her feet and now, the excited heart in her chest had begun to buzz. He carried her like she weighed nothing at all and when he placed his hands on her arms, bracing her, supporting her, she had to remind herself to breath. She was still unsure what this nameless relationship between them was, but she found herself leaning back into him, her body accepting the intimate stance even if the rational part of her brain raised concerns. Across from them, she saw a mirror image, Sango leaning back against Miroku with his arms wrapped around her. She smiled, gazing over to them, before returning her eyes to the fire. The warm, yellow glow slowly penetrated her cold, trembling skin and dried her clothes. They were all focused on the fire, while unnoticed above them, the golden sun pushed back just a small crack in the clouds to peer down at them below.
The rain had ended.
A/N: Has anyone ever been literally smacked in the face by the urge to write (or paint, or whatever your jam is)? I totally have so much work I should be doing but just had to sit down and punch this out… I was originally planning to put this fic aside until December :P
Anyways, sorry (again) for how meandery this story is… I'm trying to play things out realistically while at the same time somehow get to my original vision for the end… eh… we'll see. Thanks for reading and let me know what you think!