Several people commented – Kagome's reaction is too much! Over the top. I apologize, sincerely. I modeled the story after a few anime I have watched, so it DOES portray the usual stereotypes... I agree. Still, to me, her strong reaction meant she cared more about Sess than about Inuyasha. She actually cared, instead of 'thinking' that she cared. Sometimes, you convince yourself that you care. Other times, it is true. My reaction toward my own daughter is way overblown ( in a good way). My reaction to other children... still positive, but less?
No Such Thing As Free Lunch
Chapter 12:
Late that night, after cram school, Sesshoumaru dragged himself through the door of their home. He felt discouraged. Detention had been acceptable; he was never assigned detentions, so he viewed it as an opportunity to learn what other people encountered over the years (like his brother).
Yet the entire time, he had been unable to keep his mind off of Kagome, even for one second. The faculty had seated her in a different room, so he could not check on her to see whether she felt better, or whether she had ever accepted his apology. Once the detention was over, she had already left the building, and he could not find her anywhere.
It was not as if he had anything new to add. The best he could hope for would be to apologize again. He did not want to seem like a stalker, or like someone who obsessed over the issue (even if he was constantly replaying the event inside his head).
What had Kagome been trying to say, that morning? When exactly had they stepped over the invisible line from friendly fire to vicious nastiness? He did not feel that he could ask her directly.
Perhaps she would speak to her friend about her feelings, and the other girl would tell her boyfriend, Miroku, who would include Inuyasha in the circle of insiders... And then he could drag the information out of his little brother! Yes. That might work. Maybe.
Rubbing his forehead, he wearily moved toward his bedroom. But upon passing the kitchen, he saw a glimmer of white within the darkness of the chamber. His father was sitting there, at the breakfast table, motionless in the dark. Sesshoumaru frowned.
It didn't seem like such a bad idea, really. Sitting in the kitchen, in the dark. But why on earth would his father be doing such a thing? Perhaps they both had a terrible day.
Shuffling his way into the room, the pale-haired boy pulled out a chair across from his parent and slumped into it. Touga nodded briefly. Sesshoumaru didn't reply. For a while, they simply sat together and enjoyed the silence.
It was strange though; he didn't hear any sound from the rest of the house. Usually, Inuyasha would be shouting at one of the video games he played, or Rin would be humming a song upstairs... At the moment, though, he could only hear a quiet hum of the air-conditioner in the background. It was peaceful, and it was nerve-wracking, all at once.
Finally, Touga shifted in his seat. "Yura was having an affair, the entire time we were married," the older man said. "Although technically, we are still married for a few more days. . . "
The remark sounded completely casual, as though he had simply announced it was raining outside or that he had three children. Sesshoumaru flinched. There was no good way to respond to a comment like this. True enough, he had never liked the latest stepmother, but he did not want his father to be unhappy.
Leaning forward slightly, he pondered for a moment, then asked, "How did you learn of it?"
With a derisive laugh, Touga explained. "I hired a private investigator to follow her." Saying it seemed to make him uncomfortable, although his earlier remark about the woman's faithless behavior did not. "I didn't want to do it," he admitted slowly. "But there were too many signs, you know? She always needed more money. She would disappear at odd times, when she said she'd be home."
As the elder man trailed off, Sesshoumaru agreed mildly. Actually, he had never guessed the woman was cheating on his father. If so, then he would have been even more harsh with his damned stepmother. All this time, Sesshoumaru thought Yura to be a small-scale thief.
Unfortunately, he did not feel especially sympathetic toward his dad either. He could see that the man had undergone a far more terrible experience than he had today. For that reason, he would not mention any of his own problems. Still, it was difficult to understand what could have drawn Touga toward Yura in the first place. Maturity should deepen one's level of perception, rather than causing a person to become shallow or careless when analyzing others' faults.
Since he could not say something nice, he chose not to say anything at all. In the end, he was glad that his father had managed to investigate this woman's deception. It would assist Touga, financially, in the divorce settlement. If Yura was cheating on him, all along, then a judge would not favor her.
But that did not explain why Touga could not tell from the start that Yura was unreliable. In-between relationships, the older man seemed a bit too desperate to find another person to hold his heart.
Eventually, Touga spoke again. He was still staring absently at the kitchen counter. "I don't feel sad. I don't even feel angry."
"Good," Sesshoumaru insisted. "That's good."
And it was. To his way of thinking, Yura was totally valueless. She was not worth sadness or anger. One emotion was too poignant, and the other too powerful.
After all, look at the disastrous mess which Sesshoumaru had caused today, while he was angry.
And yet . . . For someone who claimed not to be sad, the old man definitely looked it. His father's face had a haunted quality. He looked devastated and serenely calm, two opposite poles tied together.
Silence stretched between them, until the air-conditioner shut off and the fan shuddered to a stop. Then, Touga turned to face his son. Checking for some particular attribute or emotion, he grimly inspected Sesshoumaru's expression. Finding nothing but empty blankness, however, Touga sighed and returned to staring at the kitchen counter.
Sesshoumaru wondered if he had just failed or passed the unspoken test.
"Why are we sitting here, without the lights on?" he inquired finally.
Touga smiled a brittle smile. "After I heard from the investigator, I talked to Yura, then came home early. I still wasn't sure why I didn't feel more upset about the whole issue, really. When I walked into the room..."
The boy prodded gently, when it appeared that his father was not going to continue. "Yes?"
"Just before I turned on the lights, " he confided in his son, "I saw Izayoi behind the counter. She was smiling. And so, I never bothered to flip the switch, that's all." This was spoken like a secret, in a hush, and Sesshoumaru felt his chest clench.
It hurt to know the one his father missed the most was Izayoi, and not his own mother.
Yet somehow, it didn't hurt as much as it used to.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Rin sat motionless at the breakfast table, studiously pondering a toy, turning it over and over in her hands. Ostensibly, she was not listening to the adult conversation around her, although Sesshoumaru guessed she was paying close attention. It didn't matter though – good news was being shared, in his opinion. In Inuyasha's opinion too. In fact, the only one who seemed worried about the delivery or reception of the news was Touga, and that was mostly due to embarassment.
"Well, at least one of your marriages will end in divorce," Inuyasha added unhelpfully, "Instead of death?"
His father stared at him. "You're incredibly bad at comforting people."
"Were you in need of comfort?" Inuyasha continued, blithely unconcerned.
With one hand on his forehead, Touga rubbed his brow. "Well, no," he admitted. "Actually, I thought this news might bother the three of you . . ." His tone sounded somewhat sheepish, at this point.
"Hell, no! That woman was a . . ." Inuyasha interjected vigorously, but he was unable to finish the statement, because his elder brother smacked him on the shoulder.
"Language," Sesshoumaru said, sending a pointed glance toward Rin. Ironically, the young girl only giggled. It seemed that she already knew her brother Inuyasha was not a perfect role-model, but she didn't mind watching him interact with others. "There is no need to give us replacement mother-figures," the eldest son continued. "Marriage is supposed to be about happiness, not just parenting."
"Yea!" the youngest sibling chimed in, at last. "Rin didn't like Yura anyway!"
Finally, this seemed to take the weight off their father's shoulders. Smiling, Touga shrugged his shoulders. "Ah! My shortest marriage yet!"
While the others laughed, Sesshoumaru merely nodded, unsure whether to join them or not. In fact, he was uncertain whether the comment had been a joke. Perhaps when truth was phrased as funny, then it sounded less resentful? But he had never, personally, been good at making such remarks. People always took him seriously, and he always told the truth, even when it was bitter. Wasn't that a good thing? The last time he tried to be less than serious, it had been around . . . Kagome. During their prank-war. And look how that turned out. Apparently, being funny and diffusing tense situations was not one of his life-skills. Too bad.
Scratching his head, he watched as Touga helped Rin leave for school. Yes, indeed. She was a very cute kid. A-ha! There was an interesting idea! What would Rin say to apologize to Kagome? Obviously, no one could remain angry with the little girl... because she was adorable and innocent and young and...
Oh, well. Back to the drawing board. What did Kagome expect, if not a straightforward apology, like the one he already gave? Was there any way to be more like Rin, without the cuteness-factor?
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
As people raced toward the lunch-room, Sesshoumaru stood back and observed the younger students. He had finally made up his mind how to apologize. For once, he was the one skipping class in order to attend another grade's lunch-period.
It wasn't that Kagome had been avoiding him, per se, but they didn't have any similar class times. And he really didn't want to embarrass her any further by showing up outside one of her classrooms again. It would seem that the other students had taken his prank in earnest; this was the reason she became so angry. His last 'prank' hadn't seemed like fun, because he didn't know how to make jokes properly, because he was . . . not enough like Rin?
Thinking of Rin was his inspiration, in the end. If words didn't work, then he would try actions. Rin had happily eaten all the lunches that Kagome prepared, although the older girl did not know it. Now, he would tell her the truth, and also demonstrate why he had needed her assistance so greatly. By making her a lunch just as boring and plain as the ones which he prepared for Rin, in the beginning.
Okay, so it was probably a bad idea to apologize to someone by making them a bad. . . er. . . not-very-delicious lunch. And it was risky, too, since handing someone an obento-box sometimes signified romantic interest. But a lunchbox fiasco had started all of this, so it seemed only proper that it would end their conflict as well. At least, that was what he was telling himself. In reality, he didn't quite know how to apologize without using words, and he had already tried that.
The background bustle and chatter didn't pause for a second, while he approached his half-brother's table. After all, most people didn't know him, a student from a different grade. No one paid much attention to strangers anyway.
Inuyasha, on the other hand, could only stare in disbelief. At his side, Miroku smiled in a friendly fashion. Glancing around, a bit desperately, Sesshoumaru realized he could not see Kagome anywhere, and he would have to ask about her. Out loud. His plan was falling to bits already.
Maybe she was still on the line to purchase lunch from the cafeteria? But no. She never did that, she always brought her own, and he knew it. That was sort of the point. And he had waited almost ten minutes after the lunch bell rang, knowing where she would probably end up, but now, he couldn't see her anywhere, and he was going to have to ask.
He checked over his shoulder, one more time, just in case the girl had entered (or exited) the cafeteria when she saw him. No. Still not there.
"What are you . . ." Inuyasha trailed off.
"Sango and Kagome are in the art room, finishing a project," Miroku added indulgently, with a knowing smile.
A flush of red started to creep over his neck and onto his ears. How did the violet-eyed boy know exactly what he was going to say, before he opened his mouth? Was it completely transparent? Oh, for heaven's sake, he had expected this apology to feel awkward, but it was unfair the way the younger boy could read his expression. Even worse, the idea that Kagome might have talked to them about their disagreement.
"He's not here to ask about your girlfriend, stupid, he's here to torment me," Inuyasha griped, turning toward his friend, "As usual. But really, there is no reason for it today! Lemme alone!"
Well, so much for the idea that Kagome had talked to the others about him. That was good. But Miroku still seemed to know too much. An difficulty that he would deal with later, he decided. Nodding his thanks, he turned and left the hall. From behind him, he heard Inuyasha raise his voice, "Oh, no! He's going to try and ruin your relationship with Sango?! That's just mean! We should . . "
With a sigh, he ignored the rest. Hopefully, the other boy would keep things under control.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
"Your little sister?" Kagome murmured, a touch of disquiet in her tone. "So, you didn't really want those lunches."
"Of course I did," Sesshoumaru corrected her. He waved his hand over the box of plain rice and plain shrimp. Anyone could tell that the dish was boring and simple. Including, it would seem, little fourth grade girls. "As you can see, my culinary skills leave something to be desired," he finished, before a twitch of his dying pride made him add, "Although I have improved since then."
For some reason, the truth wasn't working, any better than an outright apology. Ensuring that Kagome knew how much she had been needed, how greatly her efforts had been appreciated, this should have made her feel better, right? But she seemed disturbed. A frown was creeping over her cheeks.
At her side, the girl with the ponytail – Sango, if he remembered correctly – covered her mouth with her hand, clearly trying not to laugh. He must have missed understanding the joke, again. A small sputter of laughter escaped under her hand, before it was quickly muffled.
"Sango! It's not funny," Kagome yelped. "Stop laughing."
The other girl started to turn red in the face from holding her breath. Muttering under her breath, Kagome pushed the lunch box away and focused on their art project once more, ignoring both of the other people in the room. The scissors in her hand made sharp cutting noises as she sliced through a pile of colored paper.
Sesshoumaru felt disappointment well up in his chest. It was strange. He hadn't expected her to like his gift – it was an apology, more of a symbol, not a real present – but he had hoped this would encourage her to talk to him again. Or maybe to explain what upset her the most about their earlier arguments and then he could apologize properly instead of . . .
This was ridiculous. He was debasing himself for no reason, and these girls were both crazy. One of them laughing for no reason, one of them angry for no reason, both of them friends with his half-brother for no reason. That last one should have signified their mental instability more than anything else.
Swiping the box off the table, he casually sauntered toward the door and dumped it into the trash. As he left the room, Kagome squeaked, "Hey! You can't just throw it away!"
"You didn't want it."
"Yes, I did," she insisted, rushing to the garbage can and peering down into it. The rice-balls were all smushed against the edge of the can. She growled in displeasure.
"I didn't actually expect you to eat it," Sesshoumaru continued, "It wasn't . . ."
"You brought me a lunch that you didn't want me to eat, in order to show me how you didn't actually want any of the other . . . ?" Kagome spoke rapidly, her words practically running together. But before she could finish, the sentence was interrupted by Sango in the background. The girl with the ponytail started cackling loudly, unable to hold her amusement inside anymore. Kagome turned to face her, flustered. "Sango, shut up!"
"No, that's not it." Closing his eyes, Sesshoumaru felt annoyed that he was so bad at explaining his feelings, even to himself. "I wanted you to know why."
"Okay." As Kagome spoke, her shoulders slumped and she exhaled slowly. "Whatever. I forgave you already anyway."
How could anyone keep up with the pace of this conversation? As usual, Sesshoumaru discovered that he was lost and couldn't follow what they were speaking about. She forgave him for not eating her food, or she forgave him for the bad ending to their prank-war? He kept his face completely neutral and blank, hoping she would elaborate.
Of course, she didn't. She changed the subject instead. "Inuyasha told us about your parents getting divorced. I'm sorry. That must be tough."
Well, at least they were talking again. Evidently, she understood that his awful gift was meant as an apology, rather than a meal. That counted for something.
"If he told you that much, he must have told you the rest," the pale-haired boy deadpanned, "Yura was an awful woman who spread lies amongst family members and slept around with strangers."
"Ah." With a thin smile, Kagome countered, "Then why do you look so sad?"
As she returned the table where their art project was taking shape, he followed and pulled up a chair. Meanwhile, Sango had gotten her laughter under control. While they spoke she glanced back and forth between the two of them, as though she was watching a daytime television show.
If Kagome could ignore her, then he could as well. Dismissing her presence as irrelevant, Sesshoumaru pondered the question. Sad? He did not feel sad. Puzzled, perhaps. Yes, that was it.
In the end, the confusing part was his father's behavior. What made one woman more lovable than all the others? Obviously, Yura was bad. But after their conversation the other day, it seemed clear that Touga didn't really love the other two women either. So, what had possessed his father to marry them?
If Touga loved Izayoi so much, he should have remained single, after her death. That would have been sad, in some ways, since they would not have encountered Rin. But it would have been more honorable, in Sesshoumaru's opinion. More honest and more honorable.
He shrugged his shoulders. Because he had taken so long in answering the question, Kagome had gone back to their art project, although Sango kept sneaking little peeks at him from time to time. "I am not sad," he said out loud, finally. "I'm merely curious why our father insisted upon remarriage, so often, to the point that he made such bad choices."
Kagome shook her head, equally perplexed. She gave a small snort. "I wouldn't know," she explained, "My mom's advice? Pick the right one, the first time. She never remarried."
His heart felt warmer at the thought of someone so sensible. A level-headed mother raising an equally sensible daughter. "Smart lady," he smiled. Kagome grinned back.
The bell to end their lunch-hour chimed, so the girls started packing their supplies. Wishing them both a good day, he moved toward the hallway. As he exited the room, he heard Sango urging her friend, "Stupid! Tell him, already."
"I already tried," Kagome hissed in reply, "Be quiet."
"Hmph," Sango finished, grumbling, "... both attach far too much meaning to lunch."
Naturally, when Sesshoumaru heard this he couldn't stop thinking about it. So, there had been some sort of hidden meaning attached to the final box that Kagome offered him. And of course, that was the reason why he had been reluctant to accept it. But he couldn't comprehend why turning down a favor, like that, it would incur Kagome's wrath and begin their subsequent battle.
He didn't know exactly which part of politely declining to eat something that she made was offensive. But even more important, if she asked him again today, he didn't know if he would have the same response.