Deceitful Time
Chapter Twenty-Three: Tumult

"Kagome," her mother beckoned with a rather weak attempt at a smile while she watched her daughter scrub her damp dark strands of hair while she walked around the upstairs.

"Hey, mom," she replied with her usual smile, "what's up?"

"Shiro… Inuyasha," she sighed, that was right, wasn't it? "He was here almost the entire time you were gone—"

"Mom, I already told you, the well was really on the fritz. I didn't mean to stay away that long, it just started to work tonight so I could come home."

"Yes, yes, I know, I believe you," though, her tone implied otherwise, "I just… think it would be nice of you to call him. It's sad, really, he hadn't left the entire time until just a few minutes before you came so he could go clean up and change clothes."

"He must have been really worried, huh?" She murmured as her gaze glided to the floor and her towel fell to her shoulders, "I should call him…"

"Yes, you should," her mother took a few steps towards her to place her hand upon her shoulder and kiss her on the head, "I know you'll make the right choice, whatever that may be."

It killed her but she managed to smile for her mother, though her eyes betrayed her and she knew it as her mother gave her that weak smile of hers that she had grown so accustomed to since the well first opened before she turned and walked down the stairs… what's the right choice? Why was her mother so sure that she'd know what that happened to be? If only she had that same faith within herself…

Still, she picked up the little pink device that was full once again of unread texts and unheard messages. Maybe a cell wasn't a good idea for someone who disappeared all the time… she knelt on her bed as she held it in both her hands and migrated to the number she frequented most 'Shiro's… she had never changed the name, though she no longer really knew him as that. Her lids fell some as she pulled the phone to her chest, she could hear the cling of the charm he had bought her brush against the phone… She pressed her lips ever so tight as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath in through her nose. She didn't know how bad she felt about what happened until… that moment, that moment when she couldn't keep the twin tears from slipping down the side of her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to herself as if… somehow, that would make it alright… as if she'd find atonement in the absent air around her.

{xoxoxoxoxo}

She just couldn't, it just wouldn't be right… she couldn't have called him. Really, she wanted to, she yearned to, she kept telling herself to the entire time but… no, that wouldn't be right—right? It's not fair, why couldn't she have the same problems as all her friends? All their constant bickering about their boyfriends or other normal things seemed so great in comparison. She'd rather be dating Hojo and dealing with his apparent performance issues or dealing with Michiko's problems of a boyfriend that kept asking for them to react his favorite porn or how Eri didn't know how to break up with that college guy she just simply lost interest in? Any of that would have been easier than dealing with the perplexity of whether or not it was cheating or if she was a bit of a whore—but how could she be? They were the same freakin' person! Yet… not.

If only the well had never opened up her mind wouldn't be so boggled!

No, she stopped walking all together and opened her eyes finally—she arrived. No, she didn't mean that. If the well hadn't opened up she would never know what adventure really was. If the well hadn't opened up she would never have met Inuyasha. If she never met Inuyasha then she wouldn't be where she was at that very moment—and, really, she wouldn't rather be anywhere else in the whole wide world. She took in a deep gush of air as she put the key in the hole, unlocked the door, and opened it up.

Calling would have been the easy way out and she didn't deserve that. She had to face him, she had to will herself to look into his handsome amber eyes and confess… then maybe she'd be free from the god-awful guilt that grabbed at her gut.

"Hello?" She whispered as she removed her snickers and closed the door—very gently. It was stupid; even if she was as silent as a sneaking spider he would have heard her and she knew that. She just wanted to prolong the unavoidable pain she was going to bring to the man she loved—one of two men she loved?

"Kagome?" It shot an arrow straight through her heart to hear how his voice picked up to send her name flying into the city lit sky.

"Yep," she tried her best not to sigh but it still came out. She could tell he was in the living room from the gleam of light so she slowly walked over to the door to see him step away from the window and set his half empty glass down upon the cabinet before opening his arms slightly for her.

Her smile lifted her lips the best it could as she walked into it and placed her head upon his chest so she wouldn't have to look up at him… not yet.

"I was so worried," he sighed as he tightened his grip on her and rested his cheek upon her head, "are you OK? What happened? I tried to come and get you but the well wasn't working…"

"I don't know why that happened," she shrugged as she grasped the back of his shirt tighter, "I tried to get through but it wouldn't let me until tonight."

"That's alright, you're here now."

Right… here with awful news, and the longer the hush lingered the more she could feel that he was slowly figuring that out. His first guess at what was the matter was wrong, "you want to go back?"

Yet right at the very same time, "mmhm."

"When…? Why? Why the hell do you want to do something so stupid?" He scolded as he pried her away so his hands were firmly holding her upper arm. It took some time but she finally let her eyes lift up from his shirt to his amber beauties.

"Why is it stupid that I want to help my friends? That I want to finish what I started? What I created, have you forgotten I'm the one that shattered the shikon jewel?" All of her words came out far weaker than she had intended, she meant for them to be stern yet…

"You will die, do you want that? Do you have a death wish?" He questioned with furrowed brows, but she could tell with ease they weren't out of anger but… she had already hurt him, without even telling him the worst of what had occurred. She bit her bottom lip lightly as her own brows contracted.

"Of course not…"

"Stop going there, please? They'll understand! They have to! If you stay here you will—"

"I could die at any moment, just like there, what if… what if I'm just meant to die young? Then at least my death could mean something if I was there. If I was here maybe I'd just get hit by a bus or something," she didn't think about saying any of that, it just came out, and seemed so true.

She was meant to die young… she could feel it in her soul. Perhaps it was a curse that it had to endure every life?

"I…" he shook his head as he closed his eyes and pulled her back so they fit together like two pieces of the same puzzle. "Then… stay here, for me."

At that moment, she feared she would speak from wherever it is whenever she never thought—her soul? Her heart?—and say 'yes, yes of course!' but she couldn't so she took another deep breath to smell the same woody scent he always had. She closed her eyes ever so tight before she decided she couldn't keep it in any longer but she couldn't look him in the eyes as she said it either. Say it… say it… say it…

"I did something I shouldn't have with the other Inuyasha, I'm sorry!" She spat out so quickly her words jumbled together—did she mean them? Should she really 'not have' done it? Was she even truly sorry?

He froze up just like that; it was as if all his mussels turned to stone in that instant. After a solid minute of nothing she finally allowed her eyes to flicker open but she couldn't look up at him as he pushed her stiffly away.

It took more effort than it should for him to retract his trembling hands and clenched his fists. He just kept breathing as he closed his eyes, "what did you do?"

Acid would have been sweeter to her ears at that moment, but she deserved it… she had to look at him, so she finally did. He was as rigid as a cliff and—she guessed—was trying his utmost not to break something out of his furry. "We didn't have sex…" she knew better than that, she knew that they had to stop before they got to that point. Not for the reason he would have hoped, though, not because she couldn't bear to betray him—was it betrayal?—anymore but she wasn't ready for the chance to be a mother at all and Inuyasha wasn't ready for the prospect of fatherhood. He didn't mind that they didn't go any further; he just wrapped them up in his suikan and held her throughout the cold night…

It seemed so right then yet… so very wrong now that she stood in front of the future.

"What'd you let him do to you?" His rough, rude, words rang through her like a spreading sickness as he grabbed her wrists and knocked her feet out from under her so she'd collide against the couch with a thud. Her legs dangled over the arm of it as her frozen stiff somber strands spewed out, framing her complexion to make her appear even paler than she was at that moment. Now his brows were furrowed from anger, from deep seeded hatred as he placed a kneel between her legs, on the arm of the chair, and leaned forward so his hand was placed right above her head, his other grabbed one of her ebony waves into his, twirling it around his fingers in one swift motion.

He wouldn't hurt her… right?

"Inu… Inuyasha—"

"Shut up! I don't want to hear it! Just tell me what you two did!" Was it cheating? What the fuck was it?! He was him and he was him… they were the same but he wasn't him at the very same time! He was five hundred years older, five hundred years of misery mixed with joy here and there, five hundred years more skilled in almost every area, five hundred years of change… What the fuck was it…? Was it cheating? He gripped her hair to crush it in his hand. So… they were the same person, so she was just with him just a younger version—what the fuck did that make it? But it wasn't him-him, still, it was another man, a man that he once was… so it was wrong… sort of?

Her eyes avoided the molten liquid gold that seemed to drip down to her very core to glance at the back of the ruby couch, "I… we… he…"

"I, we, he?" he mocked bitterly, as he jerked his hand away from her hair—even though he did not pull it she flinched. He grasped her chin and pulled at it so she would turn his face up to his, "what? Kagome, huh? Did you give him a blow job or something? Like you so eagerly wanted to do with me just a few days ago!"

"You're being an ass!" She protested as she tried to push him away yet it was no use, "get up!"

"What if I was fucking another woman while you were away!? You want me to go to Chi! Huh? I could! She'd be more than happy to fulfill my needs! Hell! Akiko and Chi would welcome me into bed!"

"That's different!" She shrieked as she smacked his chest and closed her eyes once more, "that'd be with another woman! He's you!"

"No he's fucking not!" He shouted right back as he grabbed her wrists into his free hand and slammed them down above her head, "open your eyes! Look at me, goddamn it! Do I look like him!? Do you think of him when we are together!?"

"Stop it!" She cried as she turned her head to the side, "I don't! Just stop!"

"Tell me what you did!" It was only then that his grasp upon her wrists tightened.

"We were looking for Sango and Miroku! They were lost and we got stuck in a snow storm and there was this cabin and things just got out of hand! I'm sorry!"

His grip lightened, his body froze once more as all emotion faded from his face. If it weren't for the fact that he had stopped breathing, too, she wouldn't have opened her eyes to see him staring blankly down at her. "A… Are you OK?"

The… cabin, the snow storm, the… first time they were intimate. It happened? Was that why the well sealed up? Because fate was determined that they play out their parts? That they do all that he remembered? That… that she die? Was fate to blame for her treachery—was it even that? Should he not feel such passionate fury at the pretty girl that now stared up at him with such compassion? Should he just let destiny take the bullet for her? He swallowed as he blinked and took a breath.

The memory that once gave him some solace—the howling wind, the crappy cabin, the warmth of the fire, the sound of her crying his name—only felt like a slap in his face now. Fuck that, fuck logic, fuck fate, fuck it all. He couldn't stand the thought of anyone else touching her like he did—not even his younger self, was that crazy? Was that wrong?

What the fuck did it matter anymore?

He moved is hand that propped him up to grab her wrists and keep them locked above her head as he moved his hand down her neck, to her V-necked sweater, following the vertical pattern down to her jeans.

She fidgeted but his hands would let go, her eyes followed his playful fingers. He wasn't… was he? "Inu—?"

"Don't call me that," ha, he'd almost laugh at that if it didn't sting so. It used to kill him that she wouldn't call him by his name and now… now if she said it, which Inuyasha was she thinking about? Not him... never him. It would always be the others' name to her first.

"Wai—"

"Shut up!" He beckoned as he undid her pants and slid his hand down under her simple pink panties. What was he doing? Should he stop? Should he… whatever. He jerked into her and she jolted up some and bit her lips together as she closed her eyes. He was more skilled, he knew it, he'd bring her more pleasure than she thought possible. He'd bring her far more bliss than his past self was capable of—was he virgin when he met Kagome? He was two hundred, he had to have had sex before her, it would have been utterly pathetic if he hadn't...

His digits knew exactly the speed to move at, where the sweet spots were, how to play with her gem while dancing around within her. If she wanted him to stop she didn't say anything but her body spoke volumes to him—it had to be without thinking, but her hips started to jerk around with his movements, she wanted more? More pleasure? Did she want that release? Did he ever give her a release?

Not like he was going to, he knew it, it would have brought a smirk to his lips if it wasn't tearing at his heart at the very same time. He leaned down and licked her pressed lips; she was trying not to make a peep, hm? He didn't like that, not at all. He didn't want her to talk but he didn't want her to be so quiet, either. So he placed his lips upon hers and began to work on them just as he worked her below. A tug here, a suck there, his tongue trailed everywhere. Then he slowed below and she faltered, she protested with a bit of a whimper and that gave him just enough of an opening to pry her lips open fully and thrust his tongue in to tangle with hers.

Her lips would be swollen the next day from the way he assaulted them, with his nibbles and tugs, all the while heightening her pleasure with another addition. She arched towards him and his pulsing need but he pulled away still, so that only her wrists, lips, and nether region knew his warmth. Everywhere else could be left out in the cold.

She mumbled, moaned, and murmured into their kiss. Her body shivered from the sensations he provided her yet form all he refused to give her, too. There was a considerable lack of affection in his actions, even though he kissed her as if they wouldn't have another chance—wait, they would, wouldn't they?—he still did it was a vendetta. He only allowed her air when absolutely necessary and only ever a small break—to move to assault her ears or neck—before he brought his attention back to her lips all the while her hips moved along with his every motion. A building yearning was threatening to capsize her. It was maddening—so close yet so far. He could take her to it at any moment and he reminded her that by hitting one spot that made her head spin instead of the other that made the twisted tension build more and little else.

It was torture.

Then his warmth left her—all at once, too. He pulled his lips away from her pulling and searching tongue. He ripped those delightful devil workers from her and panted for air himself.

Was he not going to give her anything? Was he just teasing her? She didn't mean for such an irked groan to leave her lips but it just did. Was this wrong? Gods, even she wanted to say 'fuck it' and… she did. His dripping digits moved up to her lips, her own taste was bitter. His clean hand removed the cloth that contracted him, then his next effort to yank her jeans off took both of his hands. Her panties were discarded with a swift yank to break the fabric and throw it to the side.

Then he was in, quicker than she knew possible and working at the tension that hadn't let up even a bit. It wasn't intentional but she wrapped her legs around his to pull him closer, he plunged deeper all the same. But she wasn't allowed to scream out like she wanted to—perhaps that would let the tension fade just a fraction, just to make it bearable—because his lips were against hers.

It was too much, too much and she loved it. The feeling of him hitting her right where he knew she wanted over and over again, his mouth suffocating her with the sensation of his tongue. It was edging her closer to falling over the top and he was allowing it this time, encouraging it with each and every thrust deeper and deeper until she was sure he couldn't go any farther.

Then it was bliss, a blast of golden light flashed about. He allowed her pleasure painted scream fully as he took deep breaths to not give into the feeling of her ripple and tightened joy around him. There was no way the past could give her such an extreme release… and there was no way he was going to stop there, either. With her he had to bang it into her head a few more times that he was the one that could do this to her and not him. That here she could always find mind boggling bliss and there she could only find fumbled attempts.

Of course, missionary wouldn't do to prove that. Not again. Not a motion was wasted; he kept his pace even though she was too high to appreciate that fact. It was simple to mold her into his need, he grasped her luscious, soft, thigh and turned her slightly so she was on her side and he could angle in at a new slant, it was just a transition but it still felt too good to move on too quickly.

She came back only to know he wasn't done; he didn't get the same freedom she did—why? Hadn't he before? She didn't have too much time of a sane mind to ponder before she felt a new sensation strike her, she grasped at the cushion as she gasped freely. Her lips felt were so cold without his…

He grunted back a moan as he finished what he started and flipped her around so she was face down into the crimson cushions, her legs still against the arm of the chair. She folded her arms under her and tried her best to prop herself up with her elbows and forearm but… she just moaned out instead as he pulled her up so her knees were unstably up—with each of his brilliant thrusts she could feel an ache from the way her knees hit the hard arm of the chair but it was so mundane compared to what he was doing.

There'd be a bruise later to remind her, though.

It shouldn't strike her with such a sensation, should it? Could she really feel that way twice in the time it takes him to feel it once? Was she not doing something right? All she heard was his heavy, hot, breath and a grunt or muffled something here and there. No loving cry of her name as he still kept pounding her buttons like the pro he was to make her slam against his thrusts like her instincts told her to. No moan to show her she was making him feel instead of just allowing him to go through the motions. No kisses upon her bare neck, no hands gliding her around body to remind her how good it felt for him to touch her.

Even though he had her at that very moment in the most intimate way possible she still felt so… so untouched.

Unloved?

She gripped the cushions and she shut her watery eyes to let out an almost animalistic cry. It felt too good, it had to be wrong. Nothing right ever twisted her so intently on the inside, ravished her senses so vigorously, or rose that pulling, yearning, desire that would surely be the end of her. The thing she never knew she was missing until she met him.

"Ah," she cried out, so close to saying his name but even her flooded mind knew better—which one would she scream? Which one would he want to hear? What if she said the wrong one? What would he do then?

There it was again the fireworks that only ecstasy could show her.

It took everything that time to bite his lips and squeeze his eyes shut so that his thrust went deeper to trigger her new ripples. He grasped the back of the couch for support—he couldn't not yet… he didn't really remember why anymore—did he even have a reason? He couldn't give in to her, no matter how much his own pulsing, tightened, killer need screamed for him to do just that.

He had to keep breathing, just keep himself together, composed—ha, as if. Now what? He couldn't think, she wasn't really below her at that moment… could his other self give her that break from time and reality? No. No, only he could.

"Kagome," was on the tip of his tongue but he… he couldn't. He swallowed as he pulled out of her slick, sweet, region and almost toppled over but couldn't. He grabbed the crimson for support again. He'd just take her again… in a new position… he had the power, he was the one with the upper hand, he was the one that had the control. He was the skilled one… he just needed time to compose himself or else the second he re-entered her extreme tightness he'd be through before he even got her hot.

She meant to figure out what name to use by the time she gathered her senses enough to move again but… she couldn't. She just stopped thinking, it was useless, what did it do but hurt her head and finger bang her heart? One thing was for certain, she had to sit up. For but a fleeting moment she let herself lament over the ruins of her sweater—it was stretched too much to be fixed yet her breasts were still covered. He hadn't once tried to uncover them, to release them from the stiffness or even from her bra.

That's when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw his… area for the first time, she'd never seen one—why'd she blush? Well, did she even blush? Her cheeks were already flustered from the massive puzzled migration her blood flow was trying to follow. Stop thinking, right? That was the key—that was what got her into the mess, would it be what got her out of it?

She didn't care at that moment. She just wanted him to feel—even if just a fraction—what he had made her experience so she leaned towards him and took his overexerted bulge into her grasp—his entire body stiffened right then but he did nothing more than let his breath lodge itself in his throat.

He meant to ask her what the hell—right? But it was like motor oil was poured down his throat to keep his silent before… before, "oh", he couldn't muffle his moan as she encompassed him with her mouth. Her tongue played with his sensitive skin blow as she slid up and down, her hands magically working on whatever skin was exposed to the air at the moment.

Fuck, he gripped the couch with one hand and her hair with his other as he leaned forward. He had worked so hard to gain full control of the situation, of her, yet she won back the upper hand, the complete power, just like that. As if all she had to do was snap her finger and he was once more putty in her hands as she pulled and prodded him with everything she had—her lips, her tongue, her entire mouth.

"K…" no, he held back even though it was divine to feel her suck in all the air and become a vacuum upon him. He could feel his eyes flicker close from the feelings it brought, he could feel them roll back in his head almost as she did it again.

He couldn't take it… it took everything he had to grasp her hair more while he let out another moan but then he let go and grabbed her shoulders from the front instead to push her away as much as he didn't want to. He spilled upon his couch instead of within her.

He gave up on standing and allowed himself to slowly fall upon the floor with his back upon the couch and his legs spewed out before him. He tried his best to regain his breath—how could she do that? It was her first time, right? How could it be so... mind blowing?

She fell completely upon the same sofa as she tried to regain herself as well. Her breaths were labored for a while until they both could find some peace and settle down…

Yet, he didn't say a word as he pulled his boxers and jeans back up, zipped, buttoned, and buckled before he left.

Not a word.

{xoxoxoxoxo}

She couldn't stay there… she didn't know what to say if he returned—should she be mad at him? Maybe, but more than anything she was hurt as she journeyed back to her home alone. It was late and most of her family was asleep but she couldn't help it she had to bath for the second time that night.

It wasn't like the natural steam of the hot springs but it would do… she just closed her eyes and sunk down in the water. Letting her mind wonder nowhere… she had almost fell asleep but then she knew better than that. It took her another ten or so minutes to prep for bed. Never before had her bed ever felt so fabulous as she fell down under the sheets to pull them above her shoulders and closed her eyes. Her fingers glided slightly over her swollen lips...

Yet, once she was alone in her lair, in her own darkness, her mind refused to listen… it refused to calm... to give her peace.

Did she not deserve it?

"Fuck you... fate," she murmured to herself before sleep was finally allowed.

A/N: tsk, tsk, Kagome cursed. This is officially the longest FF I've ever written and it's not even a few chapters away from being finished either... anyway, thank you all for reviewing and everything! I hope you continue to enjoy the story.