To my reviewers, I owe you guys a heartfelt thanks. Your kind words were so inspirational that my muse couldn't wait to get this chapter out of my head. To those of you that might be getting frustrated with the pace—don't worry, the next transition in their relationship is soon to come! Thanks for reading!
Temporal Sequence
Chapter 21:
The hot water felt fantastic as it ran down her body. It was refreshing as it cleansed her, but most importantly, it was predictable. She wished she could stay in the shower forever. That was until she noticed water trickling down her shoulder. It made her think of Sesshoumaru.
She turned off the water.
"It's high time to find a semblance of satisfaction in your life..."
Miroku's words echoed off the tiled walls as she stared at the dripping faucet. She couldn't even enjoy the satisfaction of a shower, much less the promised gratification of a man. She had no control over her life, so there was no point in trying to find satisfaction. If Fate brought it to her, then so be it. Hell, she couldn't even control her thoughts.
She swore her mother must have been nearing menopause by the way she used the air conditioning this summer. She shivered as she dried herself, goose bumps breaking out on her arms and legs. She thought of the way Sesshoumaru looked at her, like she was the only person in the world. She frowned as she wiped the condensation from the mirror. She studied herself carefully, like she couldn't remember how she looked.
"You're beautiful…"
She had never been able to see beauty in the mirror. Her reflection fogged over and she sighed, promptly leaving the bathroom to go get dressed. She went to her closet immediately, wondering if it was still raining in the Feudal Era. She figured it was and swiped a baggy t-shirt from a hanger. As she tugged it over her head, she noticed a laundry basket on the floor and grabbed a fresh pair of panties. As she pulled them up her legs, she saw her white halter-top folded neatly at the top of the pile. The last time she wore it Sesshoumaru looked at her like she was a different woman. She blushed upon remembering how close he was as he smelled her.
The door suddenly opened to reveal her mother delivering yet another basket of clean clothes. "Oh, I'm sorry, honey! I didn't realize you were out of the shower."
Kagome smiled, thankful for a distraction. "It's not like you would've seen something you haven't seen before."
Her mother smiled back. "True, but I like to respect my children's privacy."
"Thanks for the clothes, mom. I'd be lost without you." Her mother gave her a strange look then and Kagome wondered if she could see the underlying confusion. She didn't get to think on it for long.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you!" her mother said excitedly. Kagome loved the way her mother's voice sounded when she was happy. "Another man from the foundation stopped by earlier today. He said, with our consent of course, that they'd also like to renovate the shrine. You know, make it look like it once did. Your grandfather is so excited about it! We've needed some work done on it for a while now, but we haven't been able to, not with all the recent financial constraints."
"That's great, mama! When are they going to start?"
"Well, he said he'd be back in a few months with the final plans and itinerary, but construction probably wouldn't start for another few months after that. He said we could have the final say in the work to be done, but I just gave him the go-ahead since they're being nice enough to do this for us. But don't worry, I told him that the well was off-limits."
"You didn't say it like that, did you?"
"No, I simply said that the well has a special significance to our family and so we want it to be left as it is."
"Mama! That sounds weird!"
"No, not at all. I told him that our family comes from a long line of priests and that it's believed many demons were exorcised in the well and so I'd prefer their resting-place not to be disturbed."
"Great. He probably thinks we're nuts."
"Speaking of he, I want you to be here when he returns."
"Huh?"
"Oh, Kagome, you should have seen him! I may be getting older, but I can still appreciate a handsome young man. He can't be but a few years older than you and he must be very ambitious to have risen so quickly to a position of such responsibility."
"Mama!"
"It can't hurt to just meet him. You're such a pretty girl so I doubt he'll mind. What was his name again? Takahashi, I think? Takahashi…Ichimaru? Yes, that's it—Takahashi Ichimaru!"
"Ichimaru? That's kind of old-fashioned." Her thoughts once again traversed back to Sesshoumaru. She cursed herself—and Miroku.
"I know, but I think it's adorable. I asked him if his parents were fond of ships! He laughed and said that his family was a bit traditional. I found him charming. When he returns, you are to be here by dawn on that day and that's an order, young lady!" her mother commanded playfully.
Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. Perhaps snagging a guy in this era wasn't such a far-fetched notion, although there was no solid evidence that this mystery man would even spare her a second glance. If he did, then Miroku might lay off her case. Considering her crazy thoughts lately, she was beginning to think that she should leave Sesshoumaru to his own devices. But how would she go about doing that? What would she say?
"Kagome, is something bothering you?"
"No, I just need to get some clothes together. I have to go back."
"Okay. I'll get out of your hair then," her mother said, her cheerful tone still carrying her voice. Her mother walked out into the hallway and lingered there for a moment. "I'm really glad you've been stopping by more often. Thank you. It makes my heart rest easier." With that said, her mother gently closed the door behind her.
After that day when she cried by the god tree, her mother always feared she'd devote her life to Inuyasha. Back then, she thought she just might, but it wouldn't be a problem because she could always use the well to visit her family. But what if it stopped working or what if she fell prey to disease or war? These were the things she thought about now. That's why she knew she couldn't stay in the Feudal Era for the rest of her days. Something told her that the well wouldn't always work like it did now.
She took a deep breath and somehow her eyes found that white top again. Goose pimples resurfaced upon recalling the intensity of his stares. It was dangerous, but she liked the way it felt. She ran her fingers through her damp hair as she contemplated wearing something cute today, if only to feel that way for a moment, like she was the only woman in the world. It was a contrived notion, for Sesshoumaru wasn't giving her special attention on purpose, but it was nice to pretend that a man could see her in such a light—a light that shone on her alone.
After getting dressed and eating an early supper, she left her house, stopping briefly in the shed to procure a sheet of plastic that she and Souta used as a makeshift slip n' slide when they were little. She didn't want to sleep on a wet ground after all. She slipped both arms though her canvas knapsack, something she could never do with her jumbo yellow pack, which was currently in the Feudal Era resting under a piece of tarp. She then stuffed the plastic sheet through the small space between her back and knapsack, readjusted her skirt and leapt into the well. This time, she kept her eyes closed and lent her mind and body to the pure sensation of floating through time. The feeling was indescribable, like drifting through thick air with no land below her feet, but she knew she wouldn't fall—Fate wouldn't allow it. This was trust.
Miroku was there, waiting, like he had said. She smiled and he whistled.
"I see that you're heeding my advice as well," he said brightly.
"No, not at all, but you and my mother keep telling me I'm beautiful and for once I want to feel like it." He laughed and she loved it. She wanted to always remember the way his laughter felt as it rumbled through her chest.
"Sesshoumaru-sama has been acting odd, or at least what I perceive as odd, but I think it's because he just remembered the little girl. Rin is her name. Either that, or he just didn't take to me well."
A string of concern coiled around her gut, winding up her chest. She wondered if he was okay and she wondered if this meant he'd leave to find Rin. She reprimanded her wry thoughts. Rin was important to him and the gods only knew what had happened to her. She should want him to search for the girl and she shouldn't care if he left anyway. Her skin flashed hot and prickled, like she had been caught in a lie. She realized then, more than ever, that she was allowing Sesshoumaru to get under her skin. Her thoughts from earlier resurfaced and she knew she had to stop this mess before it was too late to amend.
"I'll walk you back to him. After that, I've got to get back to Sango and Shippou. They're probably getting worried."
"Thanks, Miroku. Make sure to tell them I said hello."
"Not a problem. And remember not to do anything I wouldn't do."
"And what would that be?"
"I don't know, but don't think about it too long."
"When is thinking a problem?"
"About half the time."
"What's the other half?"
"Feeling."
Her heart shuddered when he said that, causing previous thoughts to return to the forefront of her mind. Her life had been lopsided ever since she was pulled down a dry well. With Inuyasha, she felt too much. With Sesshoumaru, she thought too much. She could never find the right balance and so her life felt removed from her own control. To reconcile that feeling of helplessness, she blamed it all on Fate.
The air was thick as she looked over shoulder, the old well blending seamlessly against the gray backdrop. The well had never appeared so small and unnoticeable before.
She had always viewed the well as destiny; the path predetermined by the gods. Therefore, it was significant. Like a potter spinning wet clay, the gods had chosen her, felt her and worked her until they knew every contour of her being, setting her journey irreversibly in motion. They knew she'd see it through—they made sure of it—by pressing down on that clay and hand crafting her path. The finished product had already been decided and a foreseeable outcome had already been shaped, inescapable from its predisposed parameters. She would fall, she would break, she would love, she would lose and she would go home—the clay thinned and the possibilities diminished.
It was no wonder the well looked so inconspicuous now, for the closure of possibility implied the emergence of inevitability. She was staring at the very definition of monotony blurred amongst dull grass and dark skies. The well was like a dead-end and it made her tired, too tired to look for an alternate route. When she thought about her weariness she wished she couldn't feel at all. Why bother when Fate had already preordained her course? At times like this, she felt like she was losing herself to apathy and she didn't want to feel this way anymore. Feeling could indeed be a problem, but indifference wasn't the answer. Fate could not possibly dictate all, could it? Perhaps destiny, like love and life, required a balancing factor.
So maybe, just maybe, she could force her fingers down upon that wet clay, changing its shape.
She could—she just knew she could—because today, the well worked.
x x x
xxx
He took a walk that day. It was a long walk; he walked the whole day—one way. He contemplated not turning back, but then he'd never prove his worth. And he wanted to prove himself, badly. His blood burned just thinking about it.
Though his anger didn't subside, he did pause upon hearing a yelling voice and a pitiful whimper. In the hopes of a distraction, he followed the noises, soon realizing they came from a youkai and a beast of some sort. He saw an unidentified youkai beating a two-headed dragon. The odd-looking beast was frail and bloodied, yet it just stood there, accepting that youkai's brutality as though it was deserved. The unknown youkai then shocked the dragon with his bare hands, labeling himself as an elemental. The dragon fell over, barely conscious.
"When I tell you to do something, you do it successfully! I do not tolerate failure," he snapped, kicking the beast while it was down. Feeling rather irritable and a tad moody, Sesshoumaru felt the need to pick a fight. This youkai disregarded that dragon as a living being, thus he was a perfect candidate for mutilation.
"Perhaps it would have succeeded had it been properly nourished." The beast struggled to lift its head and look at him. It was pathetic.
"Who the hell are you to tell me how to treat my property?"
He didn't even respond; he just attacked. A punch to the gut and a tree cracked. A swipe of his claws and ribs were revealed. Before the unnamed youkai had to time to retaliate, Sesshoumaru dug his fist through the gaping wound and pushed a split rib through the youkai's heart. He died almost instantly, the beast howling lamely as it struggled to stand. Dragons were known to be fierce and loyal. Apparently, this one was no exception. It somehow managed to lift itself off the ground and stagger toward him. It stumbled and fell before it could reach him.
His hands were bloody, like the dragon, and he realized that its scales were actually brown. He had thought they were red. Yet the beast still mourned its master.
"Poor thing," a voice said from behind him, "loved his tormenter till the end." Had he not recognized the heavy accent, he'd have been especially curious as to how a youkai was able to follow him undetected for so long. "What will you do with him?" Maurus asked as he stepped forward and toward the dragon, finally revealing himself.
"Perhaps I should forever end its misery."
"Don't count him out yet," Maurus chided. "Dragons are resilient creatures"
"Why did you follow me?"
"I know what your father said to you and I wanted to make sure you didn't do something stupid. Imagine my surprise to find you saving a helpless creature."
"I didn't save it. It's as good as dead now."
"He's looking at you," Maurus said as he knelt down to pat the beast's head. "I think he understands."
"Understands what?"
"That you're his hero."
"Ridiculous. You would've done it had I not."
"No, I wouldn't have. You know I hate fighting. I don't like risking my life."
He'd never seen Maurus fight—not even spar—and knew he never would. Maurus' powers would remain forever unknown to him. Had he not known Maurus, he would've thought him a coward. Maurus' fear of losing his life was not a fear of death itself, but rather a fear of missing out on future endeavors. Sometimes he wondered if those two sentiments were really the same. They never felt the same when it came to Maurus.
"Come with me," Maurus said suddenly, an uncharacteristic seriousness to his tone. "I'll be leaving this place soon and I want you to come with me."
He was shocked, not only by the offer, but also by the desperate sincerity infused within it. "Why would you ask something like that of me?"
"There is nothing left for you here. Your father has truly abandoned you now and Kazuma will only stunt your growth. I know you wish to travel, but feel you cannot. You don't have to be his legacy. Live for yourself."
"I was under the impression you held my father in a high regard."
"I do like your father, but I hate the way he treats you."
"I'm afraid your belated attempt to care has failed to move me," he replied derisively.
"Running away is okay at times, especially at times like these." It was true; he wanted to run away. But, he always ran away, only to come back for more. Maybe he enjoyed debasing himself.
At that moment, the two-headed beast stood once more, its stance unwavering and its gait strong. It strode up to him and stared at him for a moment, a fierce determination in its eyes. He thought the beast would attack him, but it didn't. Beaten into a state of disrepair, the beast was still able to stand proud. It bowed its head to him, a leather strap falling down its neck and over its head—a silent prodding.
He reached out and touched the beast. The blood made its scales slick, but he could feel its strength. A purr rumbled beneath his fingertips and he took the leather reins into his bloodied hands.
"I'm not done with this place yet."
"Besting your father in power will not open his eyes. Such things do not stir his feelings. He has no love for you because he does not know you, yet he's unwilling to learn. Your father doesn't fix his mistakes; he lets them die. His efforts will go into the child to come. You both are too far from each other to reconcile. Come with me."
The beast snorted and bucked its head. Neglected and broken, yet life saturated its being. The two-headed beast had already forgotten that it was disregarded just moments ago. Its master was dead and it was paying its respects by yielding itself to its master's murderer. Its fire was inspiring.
"Whether my father ever feels love for me is meaningless. I want him to be inferior to me. When that happens, I want him to remember that he had no part of it." He tightened his hold on the sticky reins and led the beast back toward the way from which he came.
"You really are just like your uncle," Maurus said as he walked away.
Maybe he was, but at least he wasn't like his father.
xxx
That was the day he took his life back into his own hands. He would never again allow Kazuma to push him around or vie for his father's attention and respect. All his efforts went into increasing his own power, even more so than before. Sesshoumaru wanted to show his father that he, too, was unneeded.
After watching the beast rise from the abyss of bereavement, he felt his soul mend and harden, making a future fracture near impossible. He kept the beast ever since and it followed him without hesitation. The beast would remain unnamed until Rin came along. She called it Ah-Un, saying that it was so obedient that if it could talk, then all it would say would be 'yes' and 'yes'. The name stuck and the beast answered to it, making Sesshoumaru think it adored Rin more than him. The notion didn't bother him. If anything, it reminded him of Maurus, of whom he thought whenever the beast's name was mentioned.
Maurus was there when he obtained Ah-Un and in the end Maurus liked him better than his father, even though his loyalty was given to the latter. When Maurus finally left, he only said goodbye to Sesshoumaru. He even parted with a beautiful trinket, saying it was something to remember him by.
"It's a gem—a diamond. It comes from a place neighboring my homeland. They say it lasts forever, but my mother told me that after tens of thousands of years, it degrades into its baser, uglier elements. It's like you—beautiful, but slowly corroding."
Maurus was probably right and he didn't mind admitting it. He'd part with his very soul if it'd get his point across to his father. Maurus told him to keep it always, even after it decayed. He recalled telling Maurus that both of them may die before that happened and Maurus laughed. That was the last time he'd hear that laugh that felt like an erupting volcano. He remembered how it shook his chest, like an aftershock.
Rin's laugh had a similar effect on him, but hers was subtler, causing a small warmth to rise from within him. Though Rin was more serious and much more allegiant, she was like Maurus in that she loved the very idea of life. She was like idealism and sunshine to him; she was a pale orange on his canvas
He couldn't remember how she smelt.
He had no idea where she was or if she was even alive. It made him edgy. As soon as he recognized that tense feeling, his shoulders loosened miraculously and he heard the grass bend, taking the wonderment out of his unusually lax disposition. Kagome was coming back; he could smell her. He wondered what it would be like to forget her scent. He supposed he wouldn't know until it happened. His shoulders tensed again at the thought.
Feeling a bit beside himself, he decided to jump up into the tree and watch her from a higher perch. He supposed he needed a distraction in the form of some entertainment. It'd be amusing to watch her frantically search for him. However, that notion was soon to be forgotten. Within a few minutes, she arrived, dressed strangely, like she had the last time she returned from her home. She wore a soft burgundy-colored material that rested low on her hips, its length sparsely reaching the middle of her thighs. It was indecent and reminded him of the green garment she used to wear, but now that she was older and her body had filled out, it seemed even more inappropriate. Her upper body was minimally covered as well. Her shirt was white and left her arms and neck exposed. The neckline swooped to reveal the swell of her breasts, permitting him to trace a concave line from her chin to her bosom. He couldn't help but wonder what had compelled her to wear such a thing.
"Sesshoumaru?" He realized then that he liked the way she said his name as much as he liked her in white. He wondered if this was what the beginning stage of lunacy felt like.
He waited until she was right below his branch and he waited another moment for her to turn around as she scanned the vicinity, then he leapt down behind her, as silent as a specter.
"Why are you wearing that?" he asked lowly, her anxiety washing over him. She tried to turn around then, but he wouldn't let her. He wrapped his arm around the top of her chest, keeping her in place. He wanted to know what the second stage felt like.
She tried to look at him from over her shoulder. "It's hot," she replied, a blush creeping over her cheeks. He wondered why such an obvious statement embarrassed her, but his attention refused to remain fixed on it. Her skin was warm and dewy. He was going to lose his mind. He released her, not wanting to know the depravity of stage three.
She whirled around immediately, playful anger shining in her eyes. "Miroku said you were being weird. You didn't put him in a headlock, did you?" she asked sarcastically. He was beginning to think that she couldn't stay mad at him.
"No, I simply ignored him. When he didn't respect my wishes, I stood, walked around the tree and took a seat. Only then did he leave me alone." A lopsided smile spread across her lips, making him notice their glossy sheen. She looked like she had just come from the shore. Her skin was slightly flushed and damp and her hair was wavy and wild. She looked…nice.
"You can be so funny sometimes," she said brightly, a small fit of giggles shaking her body. His jaw pinched as he tried to fight off a smile. "I'm going to miss you," she said in an off-handed manner. She put her hand to her mouth instantly, a surprised look manifesting on her face.
"Are you going somewhere, Kagome?" It was then that he realized she didn't just look nice, she looked beautiful.
She stuttered, averting her eyes. "It-It…it's not like that. I heard you remembered Rin. You should look for her and I…need…I need to find Inuyasha."
He felt his skin crawl, like a chilled wind blew over him. "You knew about Rin and didn't tell me. Why?" She wasn't being straight with him and he didn't like it at all. It was too unlike her.
"Why tell you about someone important and not be able to help you find her? It's not like you could've sniffed her out then."
She was telling a half-truth and little did she know that he could not, in fact, sniff her out. She needed to learn that she shouldn't keep things from him—there was no need. Until this afternoon, they had had a comfortable relationship. But today, everything changed, just like that. His opposition to corrupting their friendship was rapidly deteriorating. It wouldn't matter anyway, not if she was leaving. His neck stiffened and his shoulders tensed, a burning urge rising to life as he stared at her. Forgetting himself, he grabbed her forearm and pulled her to him, her body colliding into his chest. He lowered his head to the dip of her neck and inhaled strongly. He didn't want to forget the way she smelled—he wouldn't forget. She froze and her heart skipped a beat. His nose brushed across her pulse; it quickened, making his blood move.
"Se-Sesshoumaru?"
A small part of him wanted to cut her down for making him feel and act like this, but most of him wanted to hear her say his name again.
"Live for yourself."
He used to think he lived freely, not constrained by what others thought of him. Apparently, that wasn't really the case. Maurus was right, he wanted to travel. He wanted to be free. He slid his hand into her hair, grabbing a handful, and pulling her head to the side. Her breathing picked up as he inhaled some more of her, his inhibitions lost to the wind. He wondered if this was what intoxication felt like.
"Sesshoumaru, please say something," she asked nervously, her body as tense as his.
She had never liked it when he didn't talk. He contemplated silence, but didn't want to push her away. It would all fall apart anyhow.
"Stay with me," he commanded as his body finally relaxed into hers.
Her blood was rushing now and he noted the silkiness of her hair. Everything about her smelt soft. "Sesshoumaru, things have gotten really weird between us and I—"
"I don't mean forever. Stay with me until I remember her scent."
Had someone walked by and saw them, they'd be labeled as lovers. Right now, he didn't care what anyone would think of him, but he knew, somehow, that she wouldn't say no if he remained so close. Despite her body consciousness, she liked close proximity, he could just tell. In a way, he felt like he needed her right now; she soothed his nerves with her scent alone, if nothing else. Her presence had cleared his head and enabled him to do something he should have done a long time ago—self-introspection. She, too, needed him, if only as an excuse to put some temporary space in between her and his brother. He wondered if she needed more.
"I didn't realize you wouldn't be able to find her. Tell me what she is to you and I'll stay—for now." He loosened his hold on her hair a bit and her neck slacked, her head rolling along the side of his. If he wasn't careful he'd breach stage three.
"She is my ward. It is my duty to protect her and care for her. I wish to see her have a good life."
"Why?"
"She is an abandoned child."
"Do you make her feel important?"
"Not particularly."
"Why not?"
"I do not know what it means to love. I cannot show her, nor can I lie to her."
"I think she loves you."
"Perhaps."
"She has changed you—that much I know. How is it that an abandoned child has had such an impact on you?"
"Because I, too, was abandoned."
"How? Because your father neglected you?"
"My father called me a mistake; one in which he vowed never to repeat. That, above all else, is why Inuyasha should die. Because that was how my father dealt with his mistakes," he whispered roughly into her ear, marveling at how easily the little hairs on her neck stood upright. "Isn't that abandonment?" Her breathing was so labored she should have been panting.
"Then you're one beautiful mistake," she replied softly, like a faint mist on the wind. He stood fully then and released her hair, causing her to stagger away from him, barely keeping her balance. He couldn't believe she just said that. Nor could he fathom his own erratic behavior. He finally understood the woes of a drunkard, his wayward acts coming back in full the following morning. The world was spinning and he willed it to stop, but it didn't.
Not when all he could see and breathe was Kagome.
x x x
I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and please be safe on New Year's Eve! Remember—don't do anything that Miroku wouldn't do!