Corona
By: The Hatter Theory
Chapter 14: Body Of Conflict
Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Inu Yasha or the song Body of Conflict by Cosmic Gate. (You should totally go listen to the song though)
A Very Important Note:
I'd like to take a moment to thank those that have been following this story. There have been some good reviews, and bad. I've been flamed (no pun intended) and I've been told that I'm moving away from what this story is about, or that it's not enough about romance etc. And I'd like to thank you all for your thoughts. Even those that have told me that this story is going in a direction they don't like have generally been polite and enthusiastic, and I do appreciate it. But there's a hard truth to this. Even I don't get to decide how this goes, and I will not force it some place it doesn't want to go.
This story has brought many people into my life via online. It's been wonderful. But I don't work for you guys. I write this because I enjoy it. So please, don't suck the joy out of it for me by telling me what this is, isn't, will be or should be. If you don't like what's going on with this story, don't read it. It really is that simple. Thank you.
When he woke, it was nighttime, although the lights from outside filtered in through the shades and across the futon. At some point she'd pulled a blanket over them, and it had tangled between their legs, making it impossible to move without shifting her.
"You're awake," She said quietly into the darkness.
"Hnn."
She didn't mention what happened, but she did sit up and lean against the wall, dark smudges beneath her eyes standing out like bruises. Wondering if she'd slept at all, he pulled himself up in the bed, feeling awkward knowing she'd seen him during such a weak moment.
"Are you hungry?" She asked. He shook his head, knowing she would go grab something if he said yes. At the moment she looked ready to fall over.
"Why didn't you sleep?" He finally asked.
"I was worried you'd dream about it, and I wanted to be able to wake you up in case," She offered, voice laced with exhaustion. Suddenly he remembered her statement before she'd gotten off of the phone, about the mess in the lab, the images it had triggered.
"What happened today, in the lab?" He was almost afraid to ask at this point.
"I went into klutz mode and managed to break a buchner funnel and almost a complete set of test tubes." She was quiet for a moment, eyes narrowing when the tension seeped from his shoulders. "Is that what set this off? Did thinking about some sort of lab accident remind you of-" She stopped there, seeing him tense again.
"It's nothing," He replied stonily, moving to stand. Her hand went to his shoulder, stopping him. Given that she'd stayed awake to watch him to her own detriment, he allowed it.
"It's not nothing. I'm not going to force you to talk about it, but if you want to, I'm here."
Readying to tell her that it was a non issue and wouldn't be happening again, he stopped, knowing she probably wouldn't believe him. Instead, he pulled her back down to the bed effortlessly, pleased that she didn't resist. He could feel her stifling a yawn, her chest expanding against his and then relaxing away again.
"Sleep," He commanded gently. Watching her put up a valiant effort to stay awake, it came as no surprise that she lost it, completely asleep within minutes. Her body began curling, her knees pulling up to her stomach. Unconsciously she burrowed deeper into his warmth, snuggling against him and mumbling something incoherent as her fingers sought out his now dry hair, tangling into it.
Curling around her, he imagined he was protecting her. From what he wasn't entirely sure, but it was enough as he watched her fall into a deeper sleep, the tension seeping from her face. Tightening his hold on her, he allowed himself to drift off.
A phone was ringing, it's annoyingly bright chirping noise marking it as hers. Reaching out blindly, she remembered where she was. Realizing that the bed was empty, she crawled to the small nightstand where her phone was perched and grabbed it, looking at the number on the caller id before flipping it open.
"Hello," She mumbled.
"Hey, is everything alright?" Inu Yasha's concerned voice asked, softer than normal.
"Yeah, it's alright."
"Okay, you just never called back and-"
"He fell asleep and then I fell asleep later. I stayed here last night. He's up now, I'm not sure where he's at though. I was careless about how I worded an accident at the lab yesterday and I think it triggered something," She sighed, pulling herself up. "But he seemed okay before I went to sleep."
There was a relieved sigh at the other end of the line.
"Good. I crashed on Kouga's couch last night. Think it's okay for me to come back?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" Kagome asked, bewildered.
"He was remembering the accident, I mean, I'm kind of the reason-"
"No, Naraku is the reason it happened. Don't blame yourself for what someone else did," She snapped, immediately regretting her tone. The events of the previous afternoon still floated in her head, detached from anything else, as if it had been a movie she'd watched instead of taken part in.
"Alright. I'll pick up some breakfast on the way."
"As long as it's not ramen," She grumped, trying to sound good natured and succeeding. Inu Yasha laughed weakly and said goodbye before hanging up. Wanting to get dressed before he got there, she pulled the blanket around herself and walked into the hall, listening for any sounds of life. When there was nothing, she walked to the bathroom, praying her clothes were dry. Seeing them hung over the curtain rod, she was disappointed to find them still wet, and she was fairly certain Sesshoumaru wasn't hiding a dryer somewhere in the apartment.
"You may borrow some of mine," His rumbled from behind her, making her jump and trip over the tangle of the blanket. He caught her neatly and helped her right herself before moving back. Suddenly feeling shy, she murmured a small thank you before following him back to his room.
The day before she'd been focused entirely on him, so the details of his bedroom escaped her. There was a small closet and a dresser that had seen better days, and a small bookshelf holding more martial arts manuals and some of his school textbooks. He slid open the closet door and pulled out a pair of linen pants with a drawstring and tossed them on the dresser before opening the dresser and pulling out one of his plain white cotton shirts and placing it on top of it. As he was passing her to leave the room her hand darted out and grabbed a hold of his shirt, feeling nervous.
"Are you angry?" She asked, knowing he'd understand. He shook his head, although his expression was troubled. Letting him pull away, she closed the door behind her and put the blanket on the bed as straight as she could, smoothing it out. Next she took off her bra and panties, briefly wishing for a real shower. Seeing no reason why she couldn't she looked around for something smaller than the blanket to wrap around herself and saw a towel on top of the hamper. Figuring she still felt slightly grimy from sleeping in her underwear, she wrapped it around herself and took the clothes with her into the hall, grabbing a clean towel from the linen closet on the way.
There was a rustling noise in the direction of the kitchen, and she hoped Sesshoumaru wouldn't mind her grabbing a quick shower before Inu Yasha arrived. When she opened the door she stopped mid step, eyes widening.
He'd seen her naked, at least mostly. He'd seen her in her underwear and in a towel. The least she'd seen him in was boxers. She knew about the differences between men and women, but unable to peel her eyes away from an equally startled Sesshoumaru, what had been theoretical and vague suddenly became very real.
Suddenly aware of where her gaze had been very obviously directed, she brought her eyes level with his, cheeks burning bright enough that she could swear she saw the glow.
"I'm sorry, I was just going to take a shower before-before-" She stopped, knowing she was going to say 'before' again, and didn't want to sound like a broken record. Stepping back into the hallway, the door was halfway closed when his hand stopped it, his tall form suddenly looming in front of her. Wordlessly he took her hand and led her into the bathroom.
Doing her best to look at anything but him, she started counting the tiles in the ceiling as the shower hissed to life. Keeping her gaze directed at his chest when she felt his hand tugging the clothes and towel from her death grip on them, he sat them on the sink and waited patiently. When she didn't make a move to drop the towel wrapped around her chest, he reached to her hand and gently tugged on it, pulling her closer.
"Trust," He murmured. Inhaling shakily, she nodded and let her arms relax. The towel dropped and warm air rushed to meet her skin. Obeying his silent command to step into the shower, she shuddered when he followed, the stall feeling as if it had shrunk in size as he pulled the curtain closed. Desperate for any distraction, she stepped under the warm water and let it soak her hair. When his arm came around her, hand resting on her stomach gently, she almost jumped out of her skin. His front was pressed to her back, and it felt beyond intimate as the water sluiced over their forms.
Unable to help her mind focusing in on what she felt, specifically certain parts she felt pressing against her bottom, burning her. When he pulled away there was both a sense relief and loss as she heard a bottle open and the rude sound of something being squeezed out. The next thing she knew, deft fingers were working over her scalp, massaging shampoo into her hair gently. It was strange to feel just one hand doing it, but his ministrations made her scalp tingle as he expertly lathered her hair. By the time he was done, she was fairly humming with pleasure.
After she washed it out, she heard another bottle open and moments later felt him working conditioner into her hair. Fingers working even more magic than before, she tilted her head back and had to bite back an appreciative moan. He twisted her hair into a loose tail and another bottle opened and closed, and she was shocked when she felt his hand begin smoothing over her back, massaging tense muscles into relaxing.
At first his touch was almost impersonal as it traveled over the flesh of her back, but the feeling of intimacy grew as he traveled down the dip of her spine and over her bottom before his hand came around and began working on her stomach in small circles. Feeling weak kneed she leaned against him, humming appreciatively when he proved to be a pillar of support.
His hand traveled up over her ribcage, his forearm sliding against her skin pleasantly as he slicked soap up further and further. When the roughness of his palm slid over her breast she whimpered, unsure if she could actually stay in the shower. Feeling aware of everything at once, she felt his chest against her soapy back and the hardness of him behind her, keeping her steady, supporting her as he took care with her form.
There was something sensual and intimate about being bathed by someone else. His touch stayed within the bounds of propriety even as he moved over her most intimate areas, but skirted away from impersonal.
Trust. She trusted him, completely, wholly. Even when he crouched behind her and began soaping her legs he was careful with her, as if he'd somehow bruise her. A gasped breath escaped when he smoothed over the back of her knee cap, tickling her. A second later he repeated the motion, and she giggled again, then looked over her shoulder to glare at him. However, he looked too amused to glare at, and she giggled playfully when he did it a third time.
When he finished, she stepped under the shower head and ran her hands through her hair and over her skin to wash both conditioner and sudsy soap away. Blinking several times, she saw him watching her, a smile tilting up the corner of his lips. Stepping from under the water, she smiled and slid behind him, pushing him under the water to her his hair wet.
Silently she repeated the process of shampooing his hair, taking extra care to be gentle, as she'd noticed the now bleached roots. Going slowly and making sure to cover every inch, she lathered his hair and continued massaging his scalp when he stepped under the shower head. After that she took equal care in massaging in the conditioner, repressing a giggle as the feel of his slick hair sliding between her fingers. Opting to braid his long locks instead of a simple twist as he had done, she finished it neatly and threw it over his shoulder.
The next step was more daunting than the first two, and with no small amount of trepidation she squirted soap into her palm and closed the bottle, noticing her hand trembled as she set it down. Splitting the soap between two hands, she began moving her palms and fingers over his back, hesitant at first, then gaining confidence when a groan slipped out from in front of her. Knowing her fingers were not so deft and strong as his, she opted for smoothing over his skin again and again, following invisible patterns and making circles, moving steadily lower and lower.
Her touch became hesitant again when she reached his posterior, confidence quickly fleeing as her hands trembled nervously and fumbled. He became curiously still when she pulled away and then shyly gripped his hips and began motioning for him to turn. For a moment she thought he'd stand fast. Just as she was about to give up he turned toward her, inhaling deeply.
Quietly continuing her exploration, she started high on his chest, smoothing her hands over his shoulders and back down again, tracing her nails lightly over the skin. Noticing that she was out of soap, she paused long enough to get more and begin again, innocently intrigued by the muscles that tensed and twitched beneath the skin as she ran her hands over them. Taking time to explore the lines of his chest, she delight in the feel of him, moving lower and lower.
When she reached his stomach, her hands greedily swept over the line if hair she'd learned was called a happy trail, smoothing it down before sweeping apart and dusting her fingertips over the sharp lines of his hips. Luxuriating in the feel of the muscles beneath her palms, she slid her hands lower, feeling shy again.
Wanting to show him that she appreciated his own efforts, she moved lower, grateful that he wasn't evidencing any form of...desire. It made it easier to crouch and begin soaping sturdy legs that tensed beneath her touch. Curiously she let her fingertips ghost of the back of his knee, and was rewarded with a twitch. A very spastic twitch.
"You're ticklish," She giggled, standing back up at trying not to flush. For several very strange moments she had, for lack of a better word, had an eyeful, and she still wasn't sure how to process it. Gently pushing him under the water to wash out his hair and to clean his skin, she couldn't help but appreciate the way his skin moved over flowing muscles. When his hair fell out of the heavy braid, she moved forward to embrace him and ran her fingers from his scalp down to help. Not because he needed it, but because the feeling of being so close felt...Nice. Standing on her tiptoes, she brushed her lips against his while his eyes were closed.
"Thank you," She breathed against his lips. His eyes fluttered open and he looked down at her as if he'd never seen her before. Forcing her sleepy smile to stay in the face of that expression took all of her resolve, but within seconds he was smiling a small smile down at her, leaning to kiss her again, starting at her lips and ending at her jaw, dusting the interim with small, light touches of his lips.
"Thank you," He rumbled, and it sounded more like a purr. Leaning into him when his arm wrapped around her, she felt the water sluicing the soap off his chest and shoulders. They stayed that way until the water began to cool.
"By the way, how did she convince you to bleach your eyebrows? They match a lot better," She finally asked as she turned the water off. He shrugged once, not deigning to reply as he got out and grabbed their towels, handing hers to her before beginning to dry off. Feeling shy again, she modestly hid herself behind the white terrycloth and waited for him to wrap the towel around his waist before getting out.
He gave her another long, toe curling kiss before exiting the bathroom and closing the door behind him. Smiling to herself and running her tongue over her swollen bottom lip she hurried with drying off before pulling on the clean clothes. The linen pants were heavenly as she slid up her legs, and the drawstring kept them on her hips. They were -predictably- too long. She shrugged on the white shirt and bent to roll up the bottoms of the pants before wrapping the towel around her shoulders and stepping out.
Feeling relaxed and light, she walked into the living/dining room and stopped when she saw Inu Yasha, headphones plugging his ears and a frown tugging his lips down. When he noticed her staring, he yanked the earplugs out.
"I have to use that fucking shower too you know! Next time can't you guys just keep it to his room?" He snapped. Her smile wilted and he immediately looked like he regretted his words. "Nevermind. Just don't do that kind of crap in the shower, please? I have to bleach it before I can use it again. Breakfast is in the microwave," He grumbled, looking awkward as he went back to the textbook in front of him. Kagome walked by him quietly, not quite sure how to react to his request and opened the microwave.
"Inu Yasha, I told you not to get ramen!"
His laughter was loud enough that she was sure the neighbors heard it.
"It's a joke. I got that while you two were fooling around. Real breakfast is in the fridge," He chuckled. Resisting the urge to dump the hot soup in his lap, she closed the microwave and opened the fridge, grabbing a brown paper bag, surprisingly heavy and the big bottle of orange juice. She had just started pouring some into glasses when she heard Sesshoumaru enter the dining room, Inu Yasha muttering something about consideration for roommates.
When she brought the glasses in and went back for the bag, she tried to fight back the blush that threatened when she saw him, his long white hair still damp and hanging in ringlets down his very bare torso. Opening the bag, she pulled out a muffin, laughing weakly when her stomach growled petulantly.
"What the fuck happened to your eyebrows?" Inu Yasha asked, looking at his half brother. Kagome watched quietly as one of said eyebrows quirked indolently.
"It is more uniform," He finally said.
"Looks fucking weird," Inu Yasha muttered, although Kagome could tell he was already considering what he'd look like with the same. "Koharu's work?" Sesshoumaru nodded once and the younger of the two brothers sighed heavily.
"She is sorry for what happened," Kagome supplied.
"I know," He whined. "I'll probably call her to get rid of the black in a day or two."
"She is aware of Sango and Miroku's relationship," Sesshoumaru pointed out. "She is unhappy."
"Well duh," Inu Yasha retorted. "She's only had a crush on Miroku since they were kids." The statement earned a careless one shouldered shrug.
"I need to borrow the car," Inu Yasha started.
"I am going to see someone today, I will be gone most of the day," Sesshoumaru rebutted swiftly, his tone brooking no argument. Kagome was about to ask if she could join him when Inu Yasha stopped her.
"Most of the day? Where the hell are you going?"
"Nagano," Sesshoumaru responded evenly, although the look he cast Inu Yasha was filled with a warning to keep silent. Feeling left out of the loop, Kagome was about to open her mouth to ask again when her phone began ringing determinedly, shattering the silence. Glancing down, she saw her home number blinking up at her cheerily. Groaning she opened it and stood, moving to the other side of the room.
"Hello?" She asked hesitantly. In her worry she hadn't even remembered to call home and let her brother or grandfather know she wouldn't be back that evening.
"Kagome, where are you? We've all been worried sick!" The Higurashi patriarch's voice creaked over the line. Exhaling gustily, grateful it wasn't her mother, she kept her voice low, casting a quick glance at the brothers watching her intently.
"I'm sorry, one of my friends was having a bad night and I stayed to help out. I'll be home soon," She promised. Before hanging up he mentioned her mother's frantic pacing and how he was getting too old for such surprises. Feeling a flinch of guilt and resentment, she said her goodbyes before closing the phone and shuffling over to the table to finish her muffin.
"I will drop you off on my way," Sesshoumaru rumbled. "Gather your things."
Kagome went to the bathroom and grabbed her still damp clothes, unsure how she was going to explain wearing what were obviously men's clothes to her family. When she came back out Inu Yasha handed her a plastic bag to toss them in. Sesshoumaru was fully dressed and slipping his shoes on by the time she grabbed her school and fan bags. Slipping on her shoes she followed him out.
"So what's in Nagano?" She asked conversationally as they walked down the stairs.
"A friend," He answered cryptically. Rolling her eyes she giggled and laced her fingers in his. For a moment it felt like he was going to pull his hand away, and she worried that perhaps she'd gone too far with the display of affection. Any time they were in public he seemed to distance himself. Readying herself for the rejection, she was pleasantly surprised when his fingers stayed entwined with hers.
"What will you tell your family?" He asked.
"If they ask, the truth. I don't like lying, and I don't want to lie about you," She sighed, blue eyes shifting to a blue gray as she contemplated arriving home. "Although mom hasn't talked to me at all, so I doubt she's going to say anything about it."
Sesshoumaru thought this to be faulty logic. It was one thing to have your daughter spring a double life on you. It was another for that child to suddenly disappear with no word, and even though it had only been for a night, he figured her mother to be the kind that would be frantic despite how old Kagome was.
Choosing to stay silent, he let her lean against them once they reached the ground floor and walked to his car. It was a steady pleasant warmth, one that had been absent in previous relationships. To be fair, most of them had been purely physical, and he'd be lying to himself if he tried to label her as such. What she was he wasn't quite sure, and it was something he wanted to avoid examining too closely. Her humming was random and tuneless, clashing with the pattern of their feet hitting the concrete as they walked.
Once they were on the road, navigating busy weekend traffic, she made a small announcement that he knew she'd been sitting on for the past 24 hours.
"I finally got the blue," She whispered almost shyly. Saying congratulations seemed too stiff for such an accomplishment, one that he had watched her struggle for. Nor could he squeeze her hand like most would do, as he was driving. Settling for a smile, one of his rare, genuine ones, he nodded encouragingly.
"And I have enough for a few props for the next shoot."
He wondered how she was affording all of the supplies for this, and asked her.
"Some of the money from the performances is going into it," She shrugged. "I figure this way I can help out more, you know? Sometimes it feels like I don't do enough."
She was doing plenty, although he didn't say it aloud. Despite her doubts, she'd been helping the others memorize the routine that was proving to be a difficulty for all of them, especially after adding Kouga to it, forcing them to rework the entire thing. Adding the work she was putting in on the fire dyes, it was odd that she would feel that way, at least he thought so.
"What shade is it?" He asked, changing the topic back to something she would enjoy.
"It's a light blue. I was thinking about trying to get different shades, after I finish purple. I tried to figure out a yellow, but everything I could use would burn too hot to be safe," She added as an afterthought. "But it would be amazing to get different shades of the colors. Dark blue and emerald green, maybe even pink."
When she began going over the chemicals, he listened with interest, although he knew she was thinking out loud more than anything else, her brow furrowing in concentration. He found, to his surprise, that he enjoyed listening to her gentle cadence as she went over formulas aloud, fighting the urge to smile as she dug through her schoolbag and pulled out a notebook and pen to begin writing down her thoughts.
By the time they'd reached the shrine, she'd easily covered three or four pages with different notes and formulas, the strange equations covering the pages in neat lines. He watched her for another three minutes before clearing his throat quietly, causing her to look up in confusion. When she recognized the parking lot near her home, she stuttered and blushed, rather prettily he thought. There was something endearing about her absentmindedness, the way she lost herself in what he was beginning to consider her work.
"Thanks, sorry. I didn't mean to ramble on like that. Stop me next time," She laughed. He nodded, knowing he would do nothing of the sort. She leaned over the console to brush her lips over his lightly, clear blue eyes open as she did so.
"See you tomorrow?" She asked. He nodded.
"I will pick you up here," He confirmed. She was getting out when she stopped and dove back into the car, capturing his lips with her own. Surprised by her boldness, he let her direct the kiss, feeling another surge of white hot lust despite her gentleness. It was a long, slow kiss, one that didn't demand or pressure for anything more. When she pulled back, she seemed dazed, cheeks flush and eyes a few shades darker than normal.
"Tomorrow?" She asked. He nodded, leaning back to put some distance between them. The memory of their morning was still too close to the surface, making him want to drag her into the car and carry her off somewhere more private to continue further. Reminding himself that she was still a virgin, that her boundaries were still in place, he reined the lust in, forcing those thoughts from his mind.
"Tomorrow," He promised, watching her get out and this time close the door carefully, lower lip between her teeth.
She waved goodbye, walking from the car slowly, hugging the bag of her clothes to her chest. Every once in awhile she would look over her shoulder and see his car still idling. Every time it got smaller and smaller, but she imagined him watching her as she walked away, until she turned the corner and began scaling the shrine steps. The silly smile on her lips didn't fade the entire way, not even considering what could be waiting for her. When she opened the door, she began walking up the stairs when a calm voice called out her name from the living room.
Feeling the first stages of dread creeping into the high she was riding, beginning to stain it something darker, she walked into the living room, surprised to see her mother sitting in her old, overstuffed chair, a stack of photos in front of her. Immediately recognizing them as the photos Izayoi had given her, showing them all at the bar, Kagome felt her blood freeze in her veins.
"Sit down," Nodoka commanded, voice strangely devoid of emotion. Feeling the undercurrent of anger more than hearing it, Kagome sat on the couch across from the woman who had given birth to her, unsure of she was angry or afraid.
"I was cleaning your room," Nodoka began, stopping when Kagome made a rude noise.
"It was clean. You were spying," She accused, resentment growing at her mother's lie.
"And I found these. Is this what you call studying? Is this what you all do when you're not here?" Nodoka demanded, voice raising with each word, laced with anger and frustration.
"That was the night I found out I got the scholarship. We were celebrating because I wouldn't have to hide the troupe from you anymore," She explained calmly, trying to keep a hold on her temper.
"Celebrating? Kagome, you're drunk and kissing him in the middle of a public place!" Her mother accused.
"I'm twenty, I'm allowed to drink," She retorted hotly. "I don't do it often, and that's the only time I've ever gotten drunk. And as for kissing Sesshoumaru," She said the name with extra emphasis, making her mother flinch. "I care about him and I find him attractive. Kissing is a natural step."
"What about the tattoo parlor? Did they talk to into getting a tattoo?" The woman snapped hotly, not even bothering to defend her words against the man her daughter had been kissing.
"Actually, they didn't. I mentioned wanting it, as a reminder of the family I've gathered around me since my own mother can't be bothered to do anything but manipulate me into obeying her anymore," She shouted, immediately regretting her words. Wishing she could take them back, the stricken look on the older Higurashi's face felt like a slap in the face.
"Is that what you think I've been doing? Manipulating you?" Nodoka demanded, tears beginning to swell in her dark brown eyes. "I've just been trying to help you succeed-" She started.
"Mom," Kagome began, forcing her voice to stay even and soft. "You've had me behind a wall for years. I tried so hard to make you happy. But when you told me to give up fire, to give up dancing, I couldn't. I feel like I'll die if I have to stop, like there won't be any reason for the studying and success. Can't you understand?" Taking advantage of the silence, she plowed forward, determined to get it all out.
"I'm twenty now. I've never had a boyfriend, and I feel so lost when it comes to dealing with Sesshoumaru because I've never done this before, even though normal girls have. I've only started making real friends this year. I know you've been doing this for the best, but it hasn't been the best for me. Ever since I joined the troupe, I feel more in control of my life, more sure of where I'm going."
"You're not in control," Her mother finally said. "You're out of control. You've been sneaking around, lying to your family-"
"Because you can't let me exist as myself!" She snapped, frustration giving her tone a bitter edge. "Because you're projecting your past, your fears, your problems on me!"
"I've only ever looked out for you, tried to keep you safe."
"From what? Life?" She demanded shrilly.
"Maybe you need it."
This was spiraling out of her control and she knew it, saw it happening. Somehow they had exposed a nerve, one she hadn't even been aware of existing. But her mother's defensiveness, her stubborn clinging to her excuses made her angry, angrier than she had ever been, and she didn't know how to deal with it.
It burst out in an angry flood of words she knew she would regret, but couldn't stop.
"I love my life now. I didn't even know I should have hated it before, because I didn't know how fun, how fulfilling it could be until recently. But don't try to stuff me into a box because of your failures!"
Her mother said nothing, but the look of horror on her face was enough to let her know that what she'd said had hit it's mark, and damned if she didn't feel the slightest bit vindicated.
"Over a decade of living a life you wished you had lived, of catering to your concerns and fears instead of dealing with my own. Ever since dad died, you've tried to turn me into a machine. I barely remember him anymore because you sapped all of the happiness he ever gave us out of our lives. I don't want that life. I don't need it. And I don't need you."
With that she spun on her heel, shocked to see her grandfather standing there, eyes open in shock. Knowing he had heard at least part of the exchange, she walked past him without saying a word, without looking him in the eyes, and began walking up the stairs.
She packed not knowing why she was packing, or where she was going. Desperate to just get away, to get some space, she threw some clothes into her bag and made sure she had her school books and props. The yellow backpack was stuffed to the brim when she shrugged it on and walked out of her room. Ignoring the living room entirely, where she heard people talking.
In a daze she walked to the bus stop and waited, and she realized she had no idea where to go. Unsure of what else to do, she opened her phone and called the first person she could think of.
"Well hello, wow. Did the stress get to you or did you fall in a paint bucket?" Totosai asked when he opened the door to his forge. Determined to keep a straight face in front of one of his father's oldest friends (who also happened to be his godfather) he said nothing in response, although a biting comment was at the tip of his tongue, aching to get out.
"I have come to commission new props," He informed him smartly, following him inside. In the main room there were several blades, tangs exposed and waiting for a grip. On another wall sat a dozen different weapons, all completed and waiting for owners.
"Never waste any time, do you? How's your brother?" His godfather asked as he sat himself down at his rough wooden table.
"I want a set of these made, but out of a metal that will not carry heat as quickly as the steel," Sesshoumaru replied, ignoring pleasantries as he put the fans on the workbench in front of the old man. Totosai didn't even notice the slight, eying the fans speculatively.
"Where'd you get these?" He rasped in his creaky voice.
"You made them," Sesshoumaru bit out impatiently.
"I don't remember making anything like this for you," The old man grumbled, snapping one open and admiring the work.
"For a girl. She said you gave her a discount."
"Did I?"
"Yes, you did," Sesshoumaru ground out, keeping a leash on his temper by sheer force of will. "Her name was Higurashi."
"Oh, yes. Cute girl, reason for the discount. Not many women come to me with commissions, and even fewer pretty ones. Took me about a bit to come up with the design, one of the better challenges I've had. Even made a few more, in case she came back," The swordsmith creaked as he stood and stretched lazily, scratching his armpit as he left the room. He came back within minutes, a folder in his hand.
"These were the different designs. Is the metal heating too quickly for her to hold them?" He asked.
"No, but she needs to be able to hold it further up the spines without getting burned."
The blacksmith muttered under his breath as he looked at the design that seemed to most resemble the tessen on the table, grabbing a pencil and paper, drawing up quick sketches. He pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath.
"Why do you have such an interest in this?" Totosai finally asked, closing the folder.
"I am her employer," The young man replied stonily, careful to keep his expression neutral.
"So that's the way of it. Well, I'll see what I can do, but it might take some time. How's your brother?" He asked again.
"He does well."
"And you?"
"I am fine."
The old man made a rude noise, rolling his eyes heavenward. Moving over to the wall, he pulled down a box that had been sitting on the shelf, grunting from the weight.
"I seem to remember you studying the way of the war fan at one point," He said, gesturing to the box.
"I am teaching Kagome," He admitted after a moment.
"So it's Kagome now? Sweet girl, if I remember correctly. Only ever saw her the one time, but she appreciated the work."
Sesshoumaru considered saying nothing, but he had also known the old man long enough to know that if he stayed silent, whatever was in the box, something he would probably appreciate having, would stay on the workbench when he left.
"She is very passionate about the fire."
"And you?"
He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about the fire anymore. Performing for others was still a chore he didn't enjoy, but when they came together and let go, ignoring routine for just moving as their bodies commanded, it felt different. He shrugged once, hoping it conveyed indifference instead of confusion.
"You're not half so good a liar as you think, not when you're trying with me boy. Don't forget, I've known you since you were a spoiled little brat terrorizing the others in the dojo. If you're changing, good. That was the point of this whole scheme of your father's. He saw too much of your mother in you, and wanted to spare you that particular fate."
Sesshoumaru scoffed, bitter at the reminder of his father.
"Think what you will, but he did it for your own good, Inu Yasha's too. Well, anyway, I'm rambling like an old fool on things that aren't important quite yet. Tell me, how does she look using them?"
"Glorious," He said before he could stop it. Feeling the light blush that burned his ears, he frowned, wondering if he could cover up the slip.
"Glorious, eh? High praise coming from you. Must be quite a sight. Any way I could come watch you kids some time? Seems the least you could do after all the work I've put into making your props. Not to mention how generous I am."
"Generous?" Sesshoumaru huffed indignantly. The man had charged them for everything, and while the prices hadn't been as bad as they'd all initially feared, he hadn't flinched when presenting them with it either.
"Well, see, I've got a few spares, and no one's come to old Totosai asking for anything similar. I was thinking that pretty girl might appreciate a new set, maybe you might want one too."
There had to be a catch, some ulterior motive, but he couldn't figure out what it was. Eyes narrowing suspiciously, he regarded his godfather. The old man looked senile, acted senile, and had convinced most of the world he didn't have any brain cells left in his old age. However, there were moments Sesshoumaru suspected it was an act. Although why the old man would feel the need to pretend he couldn't begin to fathom.
"We are gathering tomorrow night to take promotional shots," He offered reluctantly.
"Sounds like a date. Now let's go have some tea. Need some help with that?"
Sesshoumaru picked up the box deftly and walked back outside of the forge, grateful to be away from the heat. Even though he respected Totosai's hold on the traditional way of making weapons, he didn't like being in places that radiated so much heat. It felt like being inside of a volcano. He put the box on top of his trunk and unlocked it, moving the box and setting it in back, wanting to peek inside.
"Not till you get home," Totosai admonished. "Might ruin the surprise. Go on inside, I'll be right behind you, forgot something in the shop."
Following the old man's instructions, he went inside, only to be accosted by Saya's questions. The paler of the two brother's was insatiably curious about everything in life, and had known him as long as Totosai had, which meant he didn't even care when Sesshoumaru growled at the nature of his questions.
"Got a girlfriend yet? Let me guess. Cute, long legs, perfect dark eyes, long dark hair. Maybe a model, like your mother?" He shot out. The front door closed and Totosai came in, smirking at them.
"Look at all of us, white hair between the three of us. How did that happen anyway?" Totosai demanded. Giving in to the old man's insistence, he began explaining the incident, ignoring the uproarious laughter and sipping his tea quietly. Nothing more was said about his father or mother, although they both made inquiries about his brother's life.
An hour later they told him to get out, in those words, although it had been said with smiles. Used to their strange manners he left, making sure they had directions to the field where the shoot would be held.
When he arrived at the apartment complex, he opened the trunk and stared down, surprise shocking through him. Next to the box were several cases, one having a note taped to the top. He pulled it free and opened it.
'When I'm feeling generous, I'm feeling generous. Had some back stock.'
Folding the note and looking back down at the cases, he reached down and opened one. Inside was an abnormally long sword, a thick fold of kevlar running down almost it's entire length. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he called Inu Yasha and told him to come down, not even bothering to see if he was even at home before hanging up, eyes still fastened on the cases. He closed the box holding the sword and waited patiently. Several minutes later Inu Yasha walked over, and he noticed black eyebrows were no gray and the roots of his hair had been bleached.
"What's all this?" Inu Yasha demanded. Sesshoumaru handed him the note and Inu Yasha read it twice before looking back at the trunk.
"He gave us all of this?" He asked dumbly.
"He asked to come see us perform. Apparently it appealed to his sense of charity."
"You serious? All this just because you said he could come watch us?"
Perhaps Totosai had known what a concession it had been, to allow it. As a master weaponsmith, he respected the arts he made weapons for. Allowing him to watch them make light of those arts, turn them into cheap entertainment, felt like risking the old man's respect, something he would never admit he appreciated having.
"We need to take these up into the apartment," Sesshoumaru rumbled.
"When are we going to tell everyone else?" Inu Yasha asked as he began gathering up cases in his arms. When he couldn't grab anymore, Sesshoumaru began stacking them, one at a time until the trunk was empty save for the box. Grabbing it to carry himself, he sat it on the pile while closing the trunk and took possession of it again.
They rode the elevator up, and when they got inside, Inu Yasha spread each case out in the almost bare living room and began opening them, exclaiming over the new props. There were two short swords and two regularly sized katana, as well as the abnormally long one. Another strangely sized one, wider than the rest by at least two or three times, caught Inu Yasha's eye. It was a scaled up version of the sword he favored most, and he lifted it from the case, exclaiming over the weight.
"It's heavier than the other one," He groaned, putting it back down.
"It is bigger," Was all he said while looking at the long sword. It was easily over four feet, possibly closer to five. Inu Yasha continued opening cases, finding new kama for Kohaku and even new buugeng designed for Sango. Apparently the old blacksmith had begun fancying more whimsical fare, because there was a staff that cleverly mimicked a priests staff, a metal ring covered in kevlar at each end and small ring looped around that one, those too covered in kevlar. A brilliantly designed set of gauntlets clanked in another box, with claws that reached out far enough from the hand to allow for kevlar strips running long them.
"I can't believe he gave us all of this. What's in the box?" Inu Yasha asked, tearing his gaze from their unexpected bounty. Sesshoumaru opened the box and pulled out one of the tessen, fashioned exactly like the ones Kagome used. He looked inside and counted five more.
'A few,' He mentally scoffed, wanting to roll his eyes. But she'd be pleased when presented with them. Her first set was already showing signs of wear and tear, the kevlar beginning to fray a little.
"Wow. Umm, so I guess the bad news won't be so bad now," In Yasha said, earning a sharp glance. He shrugged and began closing the cases, a frown furrowing his brows. "Koharu said she can't make it tomorrow. She's still too wound up about Miroku and Sango. Nice going by the way," He accused.
"What point would there have been in lying?" Sesshoumaru bit out.
"Whatever. We've got the masks, so it's not a big deal, and Kagome and Sango know enough about hair to deal with all that."
It was a minor complication, one that he was sure would settle itself in time. Helping stack the cases of props next to the metal chest, he left Inu Yasha alone and walked back to his room, intent on finishing a paper. Instead he saw his blanket, straight and neat on his futon, and remembered that morning. Thinking of how excited she would be to be sharing the compounds and receiving the new fans, he pulled out his phone, almost hitting the call button when he stopped, shaking his head.
He did not act like this. This was not him. Cold water doused the steady warmth and he sat the phone on the nightstand and opened his laptop, frowning as he opened the document for his international business law class and began working on it again, forcing himself to remember that in a few months she would no longer be a part of his life, and that it wouldn't matter.