A/N: This chapter scares the hell out of me. I don't think I write good fluff and so I fear the 'cheese' factor. My feelings will not be hurt, but please tell me what you think. Is it perfectly light and delicious, like the sweetly whipped mascarpone cheese in tiramisu? Is a little strong, but nonetheless tasty, like a smooth, aged gorgonzola? Or is so damn cheesy that there aren't enough crackers in the world to swallow that crap down? I appreciate honesty. Please remember that.
Temporal Sequence
Chapter 23:
He had felt a jyaki on and off all morning. He thought that maybe he was remembering something, but after taking into account his recent behavior, he assumed his mind was playing tricks on him. After all, it was obvious he wasn't at the top of his game. When he heard a female screaming for him he thought he was definitely succumbing to delirium. That was until he realized there was no honorific attached to it.
Now, he knew for a fact that he wasn't just hearing things. He stood, frozen, in a memorable clearing, a dry well visible from the corner of his eye. He saw a youkai dressed in black straddling Kagome and leaning over her body. She wasn't moving. The picture blurred and he blinked, now seeing a budding woman dressed in green and white poised over the body of a red-clad hanyou. She screamed something at him and he blinked again.
"These shards are mine! Find your own!"
The youkai was looking at him now. His hair was colored a forest green and his eyes were yellow and round with the slits of a reptile. His skin was shingled and tawny, appearing plagued by disease. Sesshoumaru felt as immovable as a boulder and he questioned himself, wondering why he wasn't attacking yet.
It was because her heart wasn't beating. He could smell her blood; there was a lot of it. He dropped his swords.
Kagome always spoke carelessly. He knew why—because she could. She was free, yet didn't realize it. He wanted to tell her that. She was a human girl that openly loved a hanyou. He remembered seeing it, all the while thinking his eyes were deceiving him. Inuyasha was lost as he slaughtered those soldiers that day, but she forgave his brutality and put her life in between two brothers who always wagered death. She was unwilling to live in a world without Inuyasha. The void would be too great and she couldn't bear the emptiness. He understood now.
"Don't come any nearer!"
He didn't think humans could love youkai, and hanyou were more despicable than youkai. But he had seen it with his own eyes. It was surreal and amazing—it was unforgivable.
That was bravery. That was loyalty. That was love.
It would seem that humans loved more deeply than youkai, or maybe more desperately. It made sense now. Their lives were short, like a spring shower. Their lack of time compelled them to place a high value on certain things, emotions in particular, because they wanted to feel as much as they could before they died. They wanted to water the next generation of flowers, leaving a piece of themselves to live on. He realized then that it was a beautiful thought. And Kagome died before she could do that.
He became irritated, knowing she didn't arm herself like he told her. He became angry, knowing he couldn't scold her for it. He became infuriated, knowing she died so dishonorably. It became blinding when he thought about her beautiful scent—smelling old yet new—would be forever lost, as though it had never existed. But he knew it had and he didn't want to live with that burden.
His eyes bled, causing the youkai to react and disappear. He didn't understand how that could happen; he'd never seen a youkai so fast. He heard a whizzing sound and knew something was coming for him—a projectile. He couldn't see it. His hand shot up and he listened intently, hoping to block it unscathed. It finally reached him and he hissed, a short, sharp thud tacking it to bark. He only succeeded in keeping it from his face.
Unfortunately, there had been a tree right behind him. He could see the projectile now, protruding from the center of his palm. It was organic and looked like a scale shaped as a dagger. It was the same color as that youkai's skin and it was as hard as steel, pinning his hand to the tree. Things weren't looking good, not when he didn't have a second hand to pull it out.
"Looks like you have a problem," the youkai said, his voice seeming to echo from all directions. "It's against my creed to kill fellow youkai, but I'll make an exception for you since you seem to want my jewel shards so bad."
He had forgotten about her quest. When he was younger, he sensed the jewel, but it was also whole. It would seem that now, as a powerful adult, he had no such ability. He didn't need them, nor did he want them. He didn't take short cuts. His anger heightened again upon remembering his desire to teach Kagome a lesson. She should never be without a weapon while carrying such a dangerous object. His eyes shifted to Kagome's body, his anger deep, but his focus shallow. He wanted to go and yell at her for putting him in this situation.
"Snap out of it, boy."
He clenched his jaw and pulled with all his might. His hand slid unwillingly over the scaly dagger, creating a jagged and gaping hole in his palm. It hurt like hell, but he had no other alternative. Blood poured onto the ground as he freed himself. Just as he moved, an abundance of those daggers embedded themselves into the tree at varying degrees. The timing was just right.
"Lucky," the youkai mocked.
The youkai's aura disappeared again and he picked up Toukijin. He unsheathed it immediately, blood oozing over the hilt, making it slippery. It would be difficult to wield the sword under such conditions, but at least he could use it to block those daggers. However, that would put him on an indeterminate defensive. He needed to figure out his enemy's movements.
"You cannot defeat an enemy you cannot touch."
More daggers came, all of which he was unable to see until they hit his blade, or his skin for that matter. Even his defense was weak against this opponent. Scenting the youkai was impossible with the overwhelming smell of blood hovering in the air. He had to figure out something. At the very least, Kagome deserved to be avenged.
"You must be faster than your opponent."
This youkai was faster than he and had the advantage of invisibility—of sight and smell. A metal clang echoed in his ears; another dagger evaded.
"You must be flexible."
He needed to adapt to the situation. He needed to find a way to be faster—to be one step ahead. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, taking a moment to contemplate his next play. He could hear the wind whispering softly over the grass. He could hear the faint hum of magic and the silence of a strong heart. That silence consumed him, like a flickering candle amongst darkness.
The air was parting, behind him, and to the right. Metal collided as he swept Toukijin around and across his body. He kept his eyes closed. To the left, the air shifted—he swung again. He heard it in front of him this time. He was on a complete defensive, but sooner or later the youkai would have to near him to strike.
It happened quicker than he expected; he thought the youkai would try to wear him down first. Unwisely, the youkai emerged right behind him, like he had just materialized from thin air. He could sense him, just barely. He rounded on the youkai and the air shuddered before blots of black and green appeared before him. It was a type of camouflage. The youkai had Toukijin's blade in his grip, his hard scales holding it off, but not completely. Drops of blood slid down the sword's shaft, merging into a thin line. The youkai was still partly invisible.
"You must be stronger."
He pushed Toukijin into his nemesis, releasing it in the process. No real damage was inflicted, but Sesshoumaru used the element of surprise to his advantage and doused the vermin with poison. The hardened scales protected the youkai, but he was completely visible now. But most importantly, the acid dominated the scent of blood.
"Clever boy."
The youkai was easy prey now. He ran in circles for a while, knowing Sesshoumaru was on his tail, but the acid slowly ate away at his scaly armor, devouring it like boiling water to salt. The youkai tried to flee and in his haste he ran back into the clearing, stumbling over Tensaiga in the process. He didn't even have time to stand before Sesshoumaru was there, hovering over him; metal shimmering in the sunlight.
"I guess these shards are yours now," the unnamed youkai said mournfully, the hiss of acid buzzing around them. He seemed more distraught over losing his shards than losing his life.
"I have no need for them."
The youkai looked stunned. "But they will make you invincible!"
"I value true strength and honor. Those shards will give me neither."
"Then why?"
"Vengeance."
"For a human?"
He plunged Toukijin into the youkai's chest, twisting the blade for good measure. What a miserable existence he must have lived, Sesshoumaru thought as he removed his bloodied sword. Remembering a dragon that refused to die, he cut the youkai into pieces, ripping apart the flesh until he found every last shard in the corpse. When he discovered the fifth shard, the youkai's body disintegrated and Sesshoumaru knew there were no more.
A small glimmer of light caught his eye and he noticed Tensaiga resting at the foot of the skeleton. He picked it up, his attention immediately drawn to a tree, its shade engulfing a dead girl. He swallowed as he walked to her, thinking what an unbefitting death she had endured.
"Well…I don't care what people think of me, if that's what you mean."
He supposed she wouldn't care how she died, as long as it wasn't painful. It was quick, he could tell.
"I want to help people..."
She might not care, but he did. She should have died protecting something precious.
"I promised to stand by his side."
Like a loved one. Like his brother.
"It's just…just that again I had to give up something that I wanted."
She always seemed cheerful, but he wondered if she was really satisfied with her life. He wondered if she was like Riku, masking her sorrow with a smile.
"You find out where I'm from and suddenly you want to talk to me."
He wondered if people took what she gave them. She always offered herself, without hesitation, or regret.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For trusting me enough to share with me."
She really loved to talk. And listen.
"You're a whore-monger."
"You are such a jerk!"
She was brave; brave enough to insult him.
"I'm sorry, Sesshoumaru."
Brave enough to apologize.
"I see you as extraordinary."
"Then you're one beautiful mistake."
And brave enough to speak with her heart.
"You can be so funny sometimes. I'm going to miss you."
She was candid and often careless with her tongue. It was easy to learn what she thought and it was never boring.
"Enlightenment is knowledge of what is true. Truth leads to good and good leads to happiness."
Riku had said that on their first meeting. Sesshoumaru thought it was ridiculous. It would seem that even after his death, Riku was able to change minds. Kagome had all the right tools to find her happiness. She was just too young to know how to use them.
"Tell me life is beautiful."
He stopped at her feet, blood pooled around her head and torso. She died from blood loss; head wounds bled profusely.
"I cannot tell you that," he replied automatically, staring at her body as though his eyes were deceiving him.
"Sesshoumaru, I…"
He liked it when she said his name. He figured it had something to do with her voice—it always sounded carefree. He longed for freedom. He might see the beauty of life then.
"She tells you how to love life."
Perhaps, but she was dead now, even though she looked to be only sleeping.
"When I can't sleep I look at the stars."
He loved the stars. It started when he was young, after Kazuma began his training. Daybreak was insufferable and the hours between it and sundown were long and tiring. Nightfall was his reprieve, his time to relax. The stars accompanied him into the twilight hours, watching him as he moved with his sword to his own inner tune. They would leave with the sunrise.
"You can't see the stars."
As though five hundred years had already passed, the stars disappeared, their beautiful silvery color lost to him. Silver was a dazzling and cool color—exciting and relaxing all the same. It was fitting of Kagome and it overwhelmed his canvas, bringing the gray backdrop to life with sparkling beauty.
He lost it.
She was dead.
Once, he had wanted this. He had pushed it to the wayside, like he had with Inuyasha, knowing that such pursuits would concede of sense of importance. Inuyasha wasn't important and neither was she.
And she was dead.
"Inaction will cost you the stars."
Toukijin slipped from his arm and fell to the ground, leaving Tensaiga dangling between his fingers. He tightened his grip and immediately unsheathed it, knowing he couldn't wield it as he pleased, but he could at least try. He prayed to the gods for leniency; this was out of his hands. Or at least he thought. The notion to attempt a resurrection hadn't even crossed his mind until he thought about his world dimming back to that dull gray. He wanted to see its beauty last, just a little longer, if he could. He waited for the pulse. Nothing happened. He felt the icy jab of disappointment, but he fought it. He didn't feel disappointment. Not anymore.
"I guess Kazuma never taught you how to save a life."
He could hear his father laughing at him as porcelain shattered.
"You like things that are dark, don't you?"
"Ever wonder why you always seem to choose the dark-headed ones?"
It was true. Was this where enlightenment made its debut?
"But it was a simple curiosity, nothing more."
"It is impossible to love someone you do not know, Sesshoumaru."
Kagome was a curiosity and he knew her, but humans and demons didn't love each other. At times they wanted each other, but there was no love. He was ready to be rid of her.
"You bear the mark of my family upon your brow. You may hide it if you like, but it will always be there."
"If I told you that I loved you, Sesshoumaru, would you send me away as well?"
There was no love, even though he could see her looking at him defiantly, tears teeming as she shielded his brother. Hanyou were below youkai, yet she could love them. He wondered if that meant she could love a demon too.
But there was no love…
"Nothing will turn a man faster than a woman."
It had nothing to do with that. She didn't belong here, in this time. Therefore, she should not be allowed to die here.
"Humans are easily loved and easily killed."
Eternity—it prevented any love between the two. He just wanted…
"Live for yourself."
He wanted to help her.
"Why are you helping me?"
"Because I can."
She would've done the same for him, if she could. If he couldn't save one stupid mortal's life, then what was he worth? What was the point of having this damn sword? He gripped the hilt harder, the pressure forcing more blood from his wounded hand. It ran down the blade, swiftly, like time was elapsing.
In his mind, he saw her smile. He saw her stifling her laughter with words. She was bright in thought and spirit, unlike any woman he had ever known. He watched as she listened intently, like he knew all the world's secrets. She licked her lips and looked away, a blush staining her cheeks. She was angry now; it was righteous and beautiful, like her face. In his mind, she became worried now, like a compassionate healer, mending the mind and body. He remembered eating sweet rice balls and treading through water as fast as he could. She was courteous and thoughtful—a welcomed distraction. She asked a lot of questions and she always made remarks after his responses, like a seasoned adviser. He didn't know if these traits were the products of her upbringing or simply her nature, but he realized now that that question was meaningless. She understood because she wanted to understand. She helped because she wanted to help.
She cared because she wanted to care.
"I see you as extraordinary."
No, she was far more extraordinary than he. He wished he could tell her that, but most of all, he wished she'd open her eyes so that he could yell at her. He wanted to scold her for being careless when came to herself and her safety. He wanted to shake her and scream in her face that she was a fool for letting herself waste away over his brother and for spreading herself too thin with duty. He wanted to slap her for thinking herself useless. He wanted this goddamn sword to work!
"Inaction will cost you the stars."
Perhaps, but that was a long ways away. She had a dream to fulfill. She wanted to help people, in the future. And they'd miss out, not knowing what they'd lost. But he would know.
He would know.
"I'm going to miss you."
His hand throbbed with pain as he gripped his sword, but he didn't care. He wanted to revive her because he wanted her to live.
"I'm not done with this place yet," he said sternly, pressing further, blood running.
A pulse—he held his breath tight. Another pulse—he held on tighter, unable to breathe at all. The pallbearers appeared, proving that somewhere someone gave his struggle a second thought. His chest tensed as he took a small breath, afraid that taking too much might scare the imps away. His heart raced as he sliced through the unsuspecting demons, stealing their right with more aggression than necessary. His blood slung with the swipe, dripping onto Kagome's face.
Nothing happened, but he knew it would. So he waited. He could wait. Forever if need be.
Thump.
He could hear his father laughing at him, but this time it didn't bother him as he watched the porcelain mend.
Thump-thump.
He imagined Kazuma looking at him with that burning stare, like he once again ignored the wisdom of a sage.
Thump-thump, thump-thump.
He felt Riku smile and Maurus patting him on the back as though he had just been demoted to their rank of absurdity.
Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump…
He could see Inuyasha gaping at him with a slackened jaw, like the earth was no more.
Thump…
He wondered if he could ever stop worrying about the world's perceptions.
Light filtered through the robust canopy, like the stars at night, to shine upon Kagome. He saw her chest expand as she finally took a breath. Her eyes were fluttering open; he sheathed Tensaiga. Upon seeing her pretty eyes and knowing her scent had returned his shoulders relaxed and he breathed fully, an unwelcome realization accompanying his relief. He had just crossed that paper-thin line that had always been unidentifiable to him. The light shone upon him then and he pretended it was darkness engulfing him. He wanted to retrace his steps so that he could return without anyone knowing he'd been there.
He could live with quiet gratitude, but he couldn't live on the other side of that line.
x x x
"Open your hand."
She blinked as a sliver of sunlight fell across her eyes and blurred his image black. She didn't have to see him; his voice was enough to guide her. She opened her palm to him and immediately registered warm objects resting within her hand, their edges sharp and fractured. She counted them with her thumb.
"He had three shards?" Her eyes finally adjusted and she saw him standing over her. He was extremely tall, but she already knew that. His eyes were burning and his face was blood-splattered. She was going to ask what had happened, but his jaw rolled and she waited, holding her breath.
"Can you walk?"
She sat up, amazed by how normal she felt. She had had a concussion or two in her time, and a nasty headache and double vision always succeeded head trauma, but neither applied in this case.
"Follow me."
She gulped as she picked up her backpack, not liking his tone of voice, but she ignored it and stood. She didn't have any problems standing, nor did she feel dizzy or nauseated. Strange, but maybe she didn't hit her head as hard as she first thought.
She followed Sesshoumaru through the forest, noticing, with much chagrin, that he had several wounds on his body. The cuts were small in diameter, but appeared deep, like he had been stabbed. He didn't seem distraught over them, so she figured they'd heal quickly, but they looked awfully painful. She felt terrible, though, because he got hurt due to her chronic forgetfulness. She continued to stare at him, her eyes entranced by the sway of his shoulder blades. She looked to ground, watching the grass waver as he moved past. She really was useless.
He stopped and she heard the gurgle of water, immediately recognizing the stream by their campsite.
"Drop your pack."
"Why?"
His eyes turned on her then and the teetering anger was so plainly evident that her shoulder slumped, her backpack falling to the ground of its own accord. However, her fear died instantly as he glared at her. He had yet to offer her an explanation as to what had happened. If he was going to be angry, then he should just yell at her and get it over with. She hated his silence almost as much as she hated his condescending attitude and broad shoulders. She tried to look away then, but his eyes held her in place. She wanted to despise him for the thoughts he bred, making her anger flare to life with the recognition of self-depravation.
"Look," she began, indignation loosening her tongue, "I'm sorry I troubled you, but you didn't have to come to my rescue. It's not like the jewel shards are your problem."
"I despise that jewel." His voice was cold, but not freezing.
"If your problem's with me, then just say it! I can't stand this! It's like I'm always trying to guess what you're doing or what you're thinking. It's tiring trying to figure you out!" She wanted him to yell at her. She wanted to hear him say it. That the jewel shards had nothing to do with it; that he saved her because he wanted to save her. He approached her, his body mere inches from hers. She hated how easy it was for him. He could do whatever he wanted.
"You are lax in your duty." They were close, but not touching.
"Why should you care? 'Cause you hate the Shikon no Tama?"
"I told you once before that I am not your caretaker, yet you made me behave as such." He was burning now, but not aflame.
"Like I said, you didn't have to do anything! You could've let him kill me for all I care!"
He didn't say anything; he just pushed her into the stream. She hit the bottom, a rock cutting into her hand. She stood instantly, like she had never fallen. His audacity and his demeanor were infuriating and just as she was about to curse his existence she noticed his hand. It was bloody with a gaping hole at its center. Once, he had given Inuyasha a similar wound to the gut. She forgot her curses.
He walked into the stream, as he was, and she just stood there, waiting for him to come.
"I told you, more than once, to procure a weapon," he said lowly, dangerously. She awaited his fury with open arms. "I do not like to repeat myself. Yet, you make me." She clenched her fist and her wound stung. She wanted her hand to bleed like his, but it wouldn't. It wasn't deep enough.
"Were you assuming I'd protect you? I don't dabble in the realm of protection. Yet, you make me." For the first time in all her life, she was thrilled with the idea of imposing her will upon someone else. It burned him and she loved it when he was on fire.
"You have relied too much on Inuyasha. It has made you weak. Are you truly weak, Kagome?" She didn't say anything; she didn't have to speak. He'd do it for her, even though he didn't want to. "No, you are not. You are the bond that connects your group. Without you, they'd fall apart. They protect you because you are their centerpiece. If you are lost, then the game is lost. You are useful then, but think you are not. I loathe stating the obvious. Yet, you make me."
He was right in front of her now, her eyes on his chest, and his fire spread to her, searing her from within. She could die like this, knowing she wasn't alone. "Do you expect me to treat you like that, like you are the center?"
"Can I make you?" she whispered, knowing he'd hear.
He grasped her chin and turned her head to the side as though he was inspecting her for flaws. He then made her look at his face and she wasn't opposed. She could feel his blood smearing across her cheek, but she didn't care. She wondered what it looked like, mixed with water.
"Would you be satisfied then?" His anger never subsided as he talked and it continued to simmer, even when he kissed her. He took her lips in a bruising manner, like he was teaching her a lesson she shouldn't forget. Both her hands encircled his forearm as she braced herself against him, willing to learn. She wouldn't forget, not the way his fingers pressed down, forcing her mouth to open, nor the way his tongue, unrelenting, demanded more from her. It felt like he was memorizing her mouth and she wanted to burn it into his memory.
His hand slid up her face and into her hair. She shuddered, suddenly needing more air, but he refused her. His head rolled to the other side of her face, his tongue never letting up though his rhythm slowed. It was methodical and purposeful, just like him. She succumbed to her incessant urge and wrapped her arms around his waist, sliding her hands up his back, slowly, so that she could trace every line. Her attention to detail wasn't lost on him and his hand moved down her neck, tracing the side of her body. He lingered on her hip and he followed the curved dip in such a lethargic exploration that she had to break away. Without missing a beat, his mouth found the pulse of her neck and he squeezed her hip. The air was at her disposal, yet she couldn't breathe. This was how that blonde must have felt, she thought as her eyes slid closed. She felt like a star, if only for a moment in time, and she felt so alive, if only briefly. She would do anything he asked of her; she would say anything he wanted to hear. She already felt addicted to him, to his mouth, to his touch—this was seduction.
He bit softly at her throat and she stumbled. He held onto her and pushed her forward onto the edge of the bank, his knee finding its stake in between her thighs. He was leaning over her as she looked at him and she thought he'd kiss her again. She wanted him to kiss her again.
"Kagome," he said, breathless and harsh. His anger was resurfacing and it excited her. He was never just one thing. At first, when he kissed her, he was demanding and impulsively greedy, like he was with family and heirlooms. Then, he slowed the world down with sensual strokes of his tongue and hand, reminding her of his patience and wisdom born from immense experience. He kissed her sternly this time, but not fully, like he was holding himself back—like he wasn't supposed to be doing this. He often denied himself, this she knew. It was amazing how different his kiss was from Inuyasha's.
Her belly burst into flames and she opened her eyes, startled, fractured sunlight capturing silver locks. Her skin prickled with heat and suddenly, she couldn't tell the difference between desire and guilt. This was Inuyasha's brother, his sworn enemy, even though a tenuous alliance of sorts had halted their rivalry. And she wanted him, Inuyasha's brother. What would Inuyasha think of her?
"Inuyasha…"
It was a soft utterance and for a moment she didn't think she had said it aloud. But he heard it. He pulled himself to his feet and stepped over her, walking away. She felt frozen and terrified. She felt plain awful.
She had seen silver hair, a commonality between the two, but she hadn't seen Inuyasha. She just wondered and worried about him. He was her first love; he was precious to her. She didn't want to hurt him, so she wondered. Guilt resurfaced as she remembered the time Inuyasha said Kikyou's name after kissing her. She felt like she finally understood. Maybe he, too, was just wondering.
She scrambled to her feet; her eyes instantly finding Sesshoumaru's retreating back. She wouldn't repeat Inuyasha's mistake. She wouldn't let him walk away thinking something that wasn't true. She wouldn't let him run away.
She caught up to him and stepped in front of him, her arms spread to her sides, stopping him. He just looked at her with disinterested eyes, but she knew better.
"I'm sorry, Sesshoumaru, and I promise that I wasn't imaging him or anything. I really didn't mean it like that—it just popped out because of what I was feeling. I felt guilty, that's all, but I know it must have hurt your feelings and I'm sorry." He looked unfazed, like feelings were something he didn't have and thus they couldn't be hurt. Maybe Miroku was right; maybe Sesshoumaru didn't present himself honestly.
"Do you think you know me, Kagome?" he asked coolly, as though her apology was nothing more than a waste of words.
Suddenly, they felt worlds apart, like an invisible line separated them. He was old; she was young—the difference not marked by a few measly years. Time was the dividing line between them, she realized, but in reality that line was indivisible.
"I'll never have enough years to know all of you." She reached for his face and slid her fingertips along the line of his jaw. It was pronounced, but beautifully blended. He watched her eyes the entire time, like nothing else was visible. It made her blood heat.
He pushed her hand away and moved to leave. She grabbed his arm.
"You and I have something in common," she stated, his eyes finding hers, curiosity filling the infinite gap between them. "We run away from our problems. Don't run away from me. Face me." He remained silent and it irked her. It always did. "Say something—anything," she said, she pleaded. She didn't want things to be like this. She was making an effort; she wasn't letting Fate push her around as it pleased. Fate dealt the cards—some hands were winners and others were losers. But she could bluff. She could take risks. This was how she would reshape that clay.
He said nothing and she hated it. Worst of all, he knew she hated it.
Maybe he was being honest. Maybe she hadn't hurt his feelings. But he walked away, so something didn't sit right with him and that something was Inuyasha. Maybe he remembered whom he was kissing and felt disgusted with himself. She could understand that; she was undergoing the same battle. But it wasn't the person she was kissing that was the problem. It was the rest of the world.
They stared at each for what seemed like an eternity. To him, it must've been nothing.
She couldn't take his silence anymore. She wrapped her arms around his waist, letting her weight fall downward, trying to drag him to the ground. He swayed for a moment, but didn't fall. She hung on tight, waiting for him to say something. She kept her eyes upward, looking at the bottom of his jaw. It twitched, then rolled.
"What are you doing?"
His anger was still intense as he stared down at her. She wondered why he was still so mad, but realized that she really didn't care. Let him be infuriated as long as he was still here and speaking; as long as he continued to do things he didn't want to do for her sake. She couldn't ask for more.
"Lay with me." His eyebrow rose. "Not in the perverted sense." For a moment, she was stunned that those words had come out of her mouth. She brushed aside her embarrassment, fully relenting herself to her whim. If her mouth ran away with itself, then so be it because she was a free, independent woman. She should be able to do as she pleased, just like Sesshoumaru.
"It's noontime." He was always so rational. He really needed to loosen up, like he had at the stream just moments ago.
"So? Let's waste the day away." She felt like a free bird, soaring high.
"We must search for Inuyasha. Certainly you miss him." She did, but she'd miss Sesshoumaru as well.
"He can wait. We'll find him tomorrow. Or the day after that."
"You are distancing yourself from him. That is surprising, considering that you have yet to let him go."
"I have to let him go. I can't stay here. This isn't where I belong."
Suddenly, he pulled her down to the ground and lied back, causing her to fall forward onto his chest. He folded his arm behind his head and closed his eyes. It was just the two of them, lying on a random plot of earth by a small stream in the middle of the day. The leafy canopy above them swayed with a soft breeze, sweeping sunlight over them in intermittent splays.
"Smart girl," he said as she watched the shadows dance across his face.
The breeze felt like the tune of a lullaby, his voice its lyrics. She consigned herself to the moment, to him, and laid her head down upon the underside of his arm. He allowed it and she was glad.
They laid like that, with each other, the whole day. Most of it was spent in silence, but she savored the serenity born from quiet breezes, the warmth of his body and the light of the sun. Once dusk broke, she ended the silence, wanting to hear his voice, not knowing when it'd fade away, like the last verse of a song. She wanted their three and half minutes to last, but she knew the loop had to break, eventually.
"Sesshoumaru, can I ask you a question?"
"Yes."
"What's your biggest regret?"
"Meeting you." For someone who had lived so long, that response was entirely too quick.
"Then why'd you kiss me?"
"Because I didn't want to." For someone so rationally minded, that answer didn't make any sense.
"Is that why you regret meeting me? Because I make you do things you don't want to do?" She smiled thinking his words a jest.
"Precisely." She wished he'd elaborate; she didn't want the last song to be a choppy one.
"People change with time, so I think you'll get over it."
"Not today." She laughed, forfeiting her wish and submitting to his staccato notes. Maybe tomorrow she'd hear that beautiful ballad. Suddenly, her stomach grumbled and she realized she hadn't eaten in hours. But she didn't want to move. The moment might shatter.
"I'd kill for an an-dango right now."
"An-dango?"
"They're sweet and yummy! You liked them too. Don't think I didn't notice that you ate the food I brought that day!"
"It was tolerable." Such a Sesshoumaru answer, she thought.
"Satsuki's has the best an-dangos in all of Tokyo!"
"Tokyo?"
"It's the city I live in. It doesn't exist yet, but it becomes the biggest city in Japan. Inuyasha's Forest will be subsumed by it."
"That is where you wish to further your schooling, correct?"
"Yep," she said, recalling their conversation about jobs and education. They really did have the strangest conversations. But gods, she loved them. "University of Tokyo, but I'll probably never see it. It's hard to get accepted to that university."
"You should try nonetheless. Otherwise, you may regret it."
"Sesshoumaru, can I—?"
"Yes."
"Why'd you really kiss me?"
He didn't answer and the stars soon revealed themselves. Twinkling brightly amongst the darkness, even the stars were content with infinite blackness. She could stay in the dark, for now at least. She was glad she didn't pester him, or leave his side to sate her hunger, because come tomorrow, he would be gone.
x x x