Quagmire

Disclaimer: If Inuyasha was mine. . . Oh the things I'd do. But it's not and so I
must behave.

From Merriam-Webster Online:
quag·mire
Pronunciation: 'kwag-"mIr, 'kwäg-
Function: noun
1 : soft miry land that shakes or yields under the foot
2 : a difficult, precarious, or entrapping position

. . . c o m f o r t . . .

She never came back.

I waited for her. Every time my door opened, I looked to see if I would be greeted
with that hauntingly familiar smile. I told myself time and time again that I was being
silly, foolish, as sentimental as a blubbering female. The fact still remained that I
waited for her.

I am sure she would have returned had she been given the chance, but when I
finally inquired about one Higurashi-san who worked for me, I found out that he
had taken ill. He had never had the chance to take his precious little girl to work
with him again for he died soon after that overcast afternoon I'd asked my new
secretary about his whereabouts.

I would have gladly kept the secretary who had left my office door open that day
simply because she had provided a way for a child to come into my life, but the
woman was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. She shook like a leaf and
always looked as if some large predator had her cornered and was going to devour
her. I decided to let her go. Strangely enough, this new secretary of mine was
developing the same scared look in her eyes. I wondered, remotely, why.

No, Kagome never came back to my office.

But I did see her again.

I, like many of my employees, went to the Higurashi shrine to express my sympathy
and pay my respects. I could do no less. I would honor him and thank him for
the gift he had given the world in the form of his firstborn child. Furthermore, he
was the father of the woman who had been my mate. It was disturbing to think
of her in the past tense when I knew that she was still little more than a babe with
decades ahead of her.

My past was her future. Her past was mine.

It was a bittersweet thought that I could watch her grow.

After a short conversation with Kagome's grieving mother and an even shorter one
with her grandfather, I turned my attention to finding the girl. It was not hard. For
a youkai with my abilities, it was the simplest thing to do.

I found her sitting beneath a sakura tree just outside the main temple, an orange
fluff curled on her lap. She was staring straight ahead, expression empty and eyes
distant. I lowered myself to the ground so I was sitting an arm's length away from
her. I did not want to intrude. I would stay for a bit and enjoy her scent, laced as
it was with her sorrow, and bask in the glow of her soul. If she chose to ignore me,
I would leave.

She was a child, yes, but I would respect her wish to be left alone if that was what
she wanted. I knew she didn't fully understand what had happened. All she could
grasp was that her beloved father would never come home again, would never
hug her or kiss her or even scold her again.

"I'm sorry."

The words, spoken in a barely audible whisper caused me to whip around so
quickly it must have seemed I didn't move. I simply went from one position to
another.

I stared at the little girl clutching a silent kitten to her chest next to me. Her eyes
were suspiciously bright and I could smell the unshed tears that were trembling in
their corners. I blinked slowly. I did not understand why she was apologizing.

"I said I would come back," she reminded me, guilt sweeping over her tiny features.

Oh.

To say I was stunned would be putting it mildly.

I continued to stare at her in silent amazement. I was supposed to be the one
expressing my heartfelt regret. I was supposed to be the one apologizing for the
cruelty and injustice of life for taking away the father of such a brilliant girl. Why
then was she asking for forgiveness for a promise she could not keep because she
was too young to control the circumstances?

Because, really, the circumstances would always have control of her.

"You're not my friend anymore?" she asked, worry scrunching up her face.

"No," I said quickly before any of her tears could fall. "I mean, yes we are still
friends. Do not apologize," I told her, wincing inwardly when the last fell out of
my mouth as a command.

She gave me a watery offering of a smile.

In that moment, she was everything I had loved and lost.

She was Rin who had tended my wounds, who had followed me through the
wilderness with bare feet and a tinkling laugh, who had found everything of beauty
was for her Sesshoumaru-sama and who had loved me with the undivided
adoration only a daughter possessed for her father. She was Rin who had died
as I held her failing body in my arms, who had told me how infinitely proud she was
to have been my daughter, and who had assured me with the tenderness of the old
for the young that she and her mother would always be with me in the heart she
always knew I possessed.

She was Kagome. My Kagome who had the courage to face down monsters, the
will to carry on despite a broken heart, the patience to wait until a demon such as I
bent enough to admit what she already knew: that I loved her. She was the woman
whose hands had saved the world and she was the child with the sticky fingers
clutching her toy.

I picked her up, wondering at how small she was and how frail her bones were
beneath her flesh and the skin that held her together. She was so fragile. Her smile
wavered and the kitten uncurled and leapt out of her grasp with a protest before
I tucked her head beneath my chin and cradled her on my lap like an infant.

"What does 'dead' mean?" she asked me, unsteadily.

I closed my eyes and took in a sharp breath. Ironic that she would ask me that.

"Death, Kagome, is when all bodily functions that sustain life cease. The heart
stops. All brain activity stops. One or more of a person's major organ shuts
down and leads to all the others failing as well. It happens for many reasons-" I
cut my explanation short when I found her looking at me with a puzzled frown.

"They said daddy went away and that he won't come back," she told me.

"His soul has left his body, yes."

"He won't come back?"

I smiled sadly down at her and traced the curve of her chubby cheek with the tip
of my forefinger. "No, little one, he won't come back."

"He doesn't love me anymore?" she was trembling again.

I rubbed her back in small, circular strokes that I hoped was soothing. "Of course
he does," I said. "I'm sure your father loves you very much."

"Then why won't he come back?" she demanded.

"Because," here I paused, searching for words. I tried to wade through my own
remembered pain, my own questions and the answers that eluded me despite my
centuries of being alive. "Because sometimes people don't have a choice," I finally
said, the words heavy and burdened with my own grief. "Because he has lived out
his life and it was time for him to go on to the next. Because, despite our own
selfish desires to keep our loved ones with us forever, it just cannot be."

She was silent, her young mind digesting what I had said. I wondered if she
understood what I was trying to say. My sudden loss of eloquence frustrated me.
True, I was not the chattiest youkai alive but I had a way with words when I
wanted to use them to my advantage.

"He won't come back?" she asked again as if making sure my answer would still
be the same.

"No," I repeated, gently. "At least, not as you remember," I added. I wasn't sure
she heard me.

She didn't ask me to explain. She sat up and clambered off my lap. I felt the loss
of her little body's warmth more keenly than I thought I ought to have. I watched
her pluck the previously unknown orange ball of fluff that she had declared was
Buyo the cat. I suspected that if the kitten could have conveyed an even remotely
human expression on its face, it would have been one of long-suffering.

It was amazing, really, what a strong-willed human miko and several centuries
could do to change an impossible taiyoukai.

I rose to my feet in one liquid movement. She noticed this and ran back to me.

"Are you going now?" she asked, absently petting Buyo whose head bobbed up
and down with the steady continuous pressure of her small hand on his equally
small head.

"Yes," I replied.

"Do you have to?" she queried.

"Yes," I nodded solemnly. I was always solemn.

She hesitated. "Do you want to?"

No.

I didn't want to go.

"I must," I told her as I bent in half to bring my face level with hers. A bit of my
inner struggle must have leaked into my eyes because she suddenly stopped petting
her cat and raised the hand she was using to my cheek. The smell of Buyo's fur
overlapped the natural scent of her skin and made my nostrils flare with
displeasure, but I bore it. It was insignificant.

"You'll come back." It was a statement, not a question.

I was left to nod numbly in agreement before straightening. Kagome accompanied
me back into the house. I said a polite goodbye to her family and went on my
way.

I didn't want to. I truly did not want to; however, sometimes I must do even the
things I did not want to do. It was tempting, though, to destroy the wellhouse and
the well I saw while I was on the temple grounds. It really wouldn't take that much
effort, but I knew that even if I flattened the well Fate would find a way for
Kagome to go back to the past. It was her destiny.

I was her destiny.

It was just the gods' own brand of twisted humor that I did not understand. I did
not appreciate it. I was still the Taiyoukai of the West. My honorable mother had
not given birth to this Sesshoumaru for him to the butt of some cosmic joke. I
sighed as I reached the bottom step leading towards the temple and glanced back
over my shoulder.

"What you're doing is dangerous."

"I know," I replied unsurprised, voice cool and eyes even colder as I turned to
face the one who had addressed me.

"I can't say I blame you." There was longing in his eyes as he said those words.

"You will not-," I began.

"I know. I know," he cut me off, waving a hand in dismissal.

"And you will not interrupt while I am speaking," I instructed, climbing into the car.

I heard him muffle a laugh. I did not deign to acknowledge the sound. To do
so would have meant lowering myself to his childish ways.

"What will you do now?" he asked as we pulled away from the curb.

This time, I did not look back at the retreating form of the shrine as the sleek
black car took me further and further away from it. I could not afford to look
back because I knew I would have found a reason to stay.

"I. . ." I sighed and leaned wearily against the carseat and closed my eyes. "I do
not know."

The silence between us was acknowledgement enough of how difficult that
admission had been for me to make.

- end chapter two -

Author's Notes:
I finished this the same day I finished the original chapter. Strange, but true. I
thought, "What the heck! My muses are up and awake and beating me over the
head with sledgehammers anyway. . ."

Here's the list:

1. I don't know what really happened to Kagome's father.

2. I wish I had some Doritos. I was too greedy and ate the last bag.

3. If you knew how truly thrilled I am that it is Friday, you'd run away.

4. For anyone who reviewed, thank you. If you have a specific question, email
me and I will strangle and answer out of one of my muses.

Do people actually read Author's Notes? blinkblink

- 14 January 2005 -