( FATE; )
A short series of little blurbs that lead up to conclusion of the relationship between Kouga and Kagome.

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Five:

Respectful Distance

He's not even there yet and he feels like he can already see her face. The strength and kindness she embodied filtering through her brightened visage. Though, because it was fantasy (bending to his own caprice), he also couldn't help but to enjoy the thought of her calling out to him in an exclusive and intimate way she never once had. Ushering him into silence whilst exhaling his name gently through soft lips. Repeating. Time and time again; with that deep saccharine look in her eyes.

The anticipation of seeing her swells up somewhere within the curvature of his heart, compacted tightly between his solid ribs. He never imagined he'd feel this way for anyone. Never thought he was capable; his mind too full of the accumulation of far simpler matters. But, he supposes, it's not a bad contrast. His head, still full of imagination, keeps up the good work - roaming around through inescapable images of her.

Once he arrives there, however, he comes to find out just how different expectation was from reality. And just to what degree the manifestation of his desires proved to be false. Nothing more than mere fiction. Slowing his speed down, he soon reaches to a full halt. Her slim, long-legged figure right before his eyes, and as always, he watches her. Scrutinizes her.

There's something about the current air around her, he thinks, that makes him waver- almost makes him, with all his petty pride and ignorance, think twice about what he should say. What he wanted to say. Or, even how he was going to say it. He wanted to open his mouth to speak, to call out to her, to get her attention, but instead he cowardly and uncharacteristically clamps his mouth shut.

The color of her face was notably... strange to him. And her expression, even more so. For once, instead of the look of innocence and naivety that she always wore so well, she looked, for lack of a better word, so incredibly detached from the world around her. Skepticism clearly marking her features as her nearly listless eyes dragged around towards the ground.

"So he chose Kikyo…." She says the words softly to herself with a sense of forced indifference. It was obvious to him that she was not aware of the presence of an audience. Kagome wasn't the type to confide in just anyone, after all. She kept people, especially guys like him, at a distance, and though it only proved to make his feelings for her infinitely more invisible, it was a quality of her's that he had always admired.

Shikon jewel shard embedded in his leg or not, she hadn't seemed to notice him. Even with him standing there for several prolonged seconds.

Seconds now turning into minutes.

Perhaps, this alone was enough to confirm his own conjectures. She wasn't stable. Clearly.

Finding his resolve, he finally comes out from behind a nearby tree, twigs breaking and leaves inaudibly being crushed under the weight of his body. He approaches her unobtrusively, caution and reservation in each and every one of his measured steps. "Kagome, are you—"

Craning her neck, she quickly darts up. Startled, she struggles for words. An excuse. A way to explain her sad current state of affairs only, "I—" she starts, but doesn't finish. She feels pathetic standing there without a hint of the backbone she normally had. But, she supposed Inuyasha took that as well; along with her pitiful heart.

Stillness envelops the space between the two.

After what nearly felt like an eternity, she forcefully lifts her heavy-lidded gaze once more. Like a child, her eyes flit around, looking for something that Kouga couldn't entirely fathom. Maybe, he never would. But, some things were clear enough without the addition of superficial words. He steps in closer. Silence. Another step. And another.

Almost in direct response to his brave front, she reaches out slowly. Glacially. First, taking a hold of his well-muscled arm. Then, his shoulder, and gradually closing the already (too) small gap between the two of them. In a quick, indiscreet reply to her feelings, he follows suit, opening up his arms and loosely encircling her in his embrace.

"I… it's complicated," she starts, "I'm sorry. For now, please, just—"

"Stay like this," he says almost immediately. Successfully silencing her. He didn't want to know. Didn't have to know. The sensation of the material of her clothes against his own, and the amiable way in which her hands touched him and clung to the skin on his back… told him enough. Her breath was soft, and the beat of her heart (which he heard so well - too well) drowned out any semblance of curiosity and urged him to into reverent and thoughtful silence.