Evanescent
By: HalcyonMoments11
I never thought that you would be the one to hold my heart.
But you came around and you knocked me off the ground from the start.
-Christina Perri (Arms)
"Catch."
Kagome looks up in time to catch the ball of fabric Miroku tosses in her direction. When she meets his gaze questioningly, the monk simply offers her a mischievous smile. With a skeptical hum, she allows the fabric to unfurl in her hands.
Miroku pretends not to watch her as he fastens his own cloak around his shoulders, noting the way her skeptical expression transforms into one of surprise; it's more than he's been able to spur from her since that afternoon when he had given into the anxious twitch of his fingers, the need for a distraction, and found a plethora of sights, sounds, and obliging women to occupy himself, when he had rebutted her admonishments of his coquettish behavior by yielding to the weight of her azure gaze instead, by seeking the thrill of this budding push and pull, this entanglement between them, before Kaito led them through the ruined sector of Mizukagami and rattled any resolve either might have mustered to bridge the space between them.
She's been quiet most of the evening, lost in thought since they started their trek back to the shiro through the jōkamachi as the tide moved in and sunlight began to wane in the sky. Even their impromptu meeting with the very pregnant hime of the shiro, whom had slipped her attendants, curiously and cleverly evaded Kaito's inquiries, and had taken a quick and cheerful liking to Kagome as they followed her to another—albeit quieter—meal with her and her mother, the daimyo. Osamu and Kaito had been in attendance as well; they assured them that the other members of the inu-tachi had settled comfortably into an inn Osamu's family owned, promised to reunite them on the morrow, and briefly answered periodic questions about the aftermath of the wani's attack and inquiries into the father of Takara-sama's child, who they learned had perished in the attack.
Kagome had participated in the conversations, but only minimally. He could tell she was troubled by what they were able to survey of the damaged sector of the jōkamachi and the contradicting depictions they've come to know of Mizukagami thus far. Even in their short time here, Miroku has noticed how contrasting series seem to converge in this place, among them the variances in what they've learned and what they've seen and the way he's been pulled into what feels like a waxing and waning cycle with his miko companion.
"A cloak?" Kagome's question brings him back to the present, and he hums a response. She tilts her head curiously, but swings the fabric around her shoulders anyways, glancing down to tie it at the base of her throat. He ignores his inclination to step forward and offer to help, to fabricate an opportunity to be needlessly close to her, to press his fingers against the delicate skin of her collarbone.
Instead, he walks by her and slides the shoji door of their chambers open carefully before turning his gaze back in her direction. "It's time we find the others before Inuyasha tries to break down the barrier again, no?"
With a huffed laugh, she replies, "Hai."
The smile she offers him in response is soft, appreciative, and carries a warmth that, for a moment, returns him to the contentment he felt waking beside the miko that morning, the security of the weight of her in his arms. The thought unmoors him and guilt threads into his thoughts the longer he lingers on the memories of that morning, a hot thread in his gut that feels a lot like a betrayal—of the whispered promises and reassuring gestures passed between himself and Sango over the past few years, of the friendship and respect he holds for Inuyasha—tested as frequently as it may be—of the admiration and devotion he feels for Kagome.
Her hand squeezes his forearm briefly, drawing him back to the present. She tilts her head in a gesture to follow as she moves out the door. If she notices the way his breath falls from his lips unsteadily as she brushes by him toward the engawa, she doesn't show it, saying only: "Alright, I'm ready; let's go."
Darkness settles into the streets of Mizukagami swiftly, directed in its construction into the east, making the evening feel much later than it actually is. Lanterns and what Miroku assumes are enchanted stones and jewels light their path as they wind through the tunnels surrounding the shiro and then the muted night life of the jōkamachi. Kagome follows him quietly, eyes watching the patterns of shadows strewn about them, the movement of people in and out of shops and homes lit by warm lantern light, small boats still moving quietly through the canals of the small city, each lined with their own designs of gems and lanterns as guides.
It doesn't take long for this pattern to change, for the miko's curiosity to draw her toward a small square alight with shops, merchant stands, and even some music. Miroku drifts after her quietly, choosing to ignore how easy it is to fall into step beside her, follow her whims, redirect her attention with his own. This is a sector of Mizukagami that they have not yet visited with Kaito, so he knows they're close to where they need to be to find the rest of the inu-tachi. He sees no harm in allowing her to explore as they search for their friends.
She is drawn to a small stand covered in beaded trinkets, shells and stones bound by string, and the occasional crystal dangling from a leather cord. Miroku peers over her shoulder curiously when her fingers brush a pair of small, rough-edged crystals.
"Beautiful, aren't they?" Both are startled by the question, drawing their attention to the shop keeper as she puts down the colorful threads she had been weaving together with beads by the light of a lantern against the back of the sheltered area of her stand.
Kagome meets the older woman's gaze with a sheepish smile and a nod, asking "What are they?"
The shop keeper smiles gently and pushes herself off of her small stool with a quiet groan. She picks up the leather threads tethered to the crystals, now visibly two separate necklaces, and holds them up to the lantern light, displaying the glittering hues of blue, some so dark they appear to be a shade of violet.
"They're replicas of the Tide Jewels, kanju and manju, the jewels of ebb and flow."
Also intrigued, having heard mention of these jewels from some of the women of the jōkamachi earlier that day, Miroku inquires further: "Tide Jewels?"
The older woman nods in response. "They control the tides and, for centuries, have maintained the balance between the people of Mizukagami and the ryū youkai of the sea."
"Aren't the Tide Jewels just stories?" Kagome questions, head tilted curiously as the shop keeper offers her the crystals, settling them gently in her open palm.
The woman laughs. "Oh, the jewels are as real as you and I and everyone else standing here in this plaza. They're the source of the daimyo's power even now."
Kagome glances up at Miroku over her shoulder, eyebrow raised as if to ask: why are we just now learning this?
Miroku shrugs in response so as not to draw more attention to the miko's skeptical expression and reaches around her carefully, fingers brushing the crystals in her palm and echoing an inquisitiveness she had shown in the small stone pendant he had found on the beach just days before. She flushes slightly as he does, a warming of her cheeks that is barely discernable in the lantern lights around them. He tries not to notice, tries to ignore the way her hot breath caresses the side of his face, his neck, tries not to allow his body to lean into her pull.
"Those are a special price today; two for the price of one, if you're interested?" The shop keeper's voice draws their attention once more, etching an almost visible tension into the line of Kagome's shoulders where his chest imperceptibly brushes against her back.
The shop keeper eyes them as if there is something peculiar about them—outside of their houshi and miko garb and their obvious unfamiliarity with the stories of this place—and Miroku sees the moment of assessment in her dark gaze, knows that she is forming a conclusion about the two of them that age has gifted her ability to gauge quickly, to know her audience. It is not unlike the inquisitive looks Kaito has cast in their direction more than once over the past few days.
"You know…" she says with a small smile, "as replicas of the Tide Jewels these crystals also symbolize the fateful tides between people; they represent the fisherman Hoori and the daughter of Ryūjin, the dragon sea god, Toyotama-hime, who, after their marriage, became the founders of Mizukagami. Thus, the jewels also symbolize their love."
Kagome coughs and stutters a response, the flush of her cheeks entirely visible this time. "O-oh, n-no, we're just—w-we actually—thank you, but we have somewhere to be!"
She sets the crystals down carefully, almost warily, and spins away from Miroku and the stand out into the plaza quickly.
Before the houshi can follow, the shop keeper chuckles, drawing Miroku's attention away from Kagome's quickly retreating form and back to the older woman's dark, perceptive gaze. "We have a saying here, that one can only yearn to understand how the tide churns so long before they're swept under; as this is true for the ocean, so it is for love." There is no accusation in her voice, no emphasis or affect; she shares this as a simple statement, as fact.
Miroku doesn't know how to respond. He wants to deny it, say that's not what this is. Offer an explanation, the alternative, say we're just friends. Say we're not in—. I don't—. Say the word. Say the word.
His breath catches in his throat, fills the cavity of his mouth like hot water. He opens and closes his mouth, swallows whatever words have swollen his tongue down. Swallows the heartbeat that thunders in his ears. There's something burning in him and he feels the heat of it rising to his cheeks, his ears, sinking into him like molten metal, a blistering, scorching, terrifying weight in his lungs, in his stomach.
Her smile is gentle, the creases around her eyes holding the weight of the words he has drunk down. "Take these." She reaches for his hand, tucks the crystals into his palm, closes his fingers around them, and pats the top of his hand. "I'll be here all week, so long as the weather holds. Purchase them, return them, your choice." She shrugs and reaches a little further across the spread of beads and shells between them to give his elbow a little push in the direction his miko companion had fled.
"Just don't let yourself drown beneath their weight."
A/N: Apologies for my very slow update this summer. In addition to working a 6 day/week job, there was an unexpected death in my family, and it threw me off a bit when it came to writing. I've got the next few chapters planned out and pieces in the works, so more updates will be coming soon!
Also, the details about the Tide Jewels came from some Japanese mythology and folklore. Here's the wiki I used for some of the details: wiki/Tide_jewels
Vocabulary: houshi – monk; miko – priestess; wani – sea monsters; ryū – dragon; youkai – demon(s); Ryūjin – the dragon sea god; kanju – controls the ebb-tide; manju – controls the flow-tide; jōkamachi – city around a shiro; shiro – castle; daimyo – feudal lord; hime – princess; inu-tachi – dog pack; engawa – porch; sama – lord/lady/master