Chapter 39
Desideratum
"A things desired, but regretfully wanting"


"Once upon a time
there was a boy who loved a girl,
and her laughter was a question he wanted
to spend his whole life answering."
The History of Love


Kagome concerned him. And not just in the 'she's been through a lot lately' level of concern, which Sango and Kaede had fucking repeated over and over, like he was too dumb to really understand what they were trying to say.

He got it.

Kagome was fragile.

He had to be gentle.

End of story.

But this was a whole other level of wrong.

His first sign? Kagome was eager to leave her time, her era, and return to shard hunting.

The next one? She didn't want to talk to her friends. Those stupid idiotic girls that were always interrupting and bothering them, and Kagome never, never, missed an opportunity to talk to them or go wandering off to some god-forsaken place he'd never been in or heard of before.

The final nail in the coffin? Kagome didn't want to go to school.

When in the flying fuck of fucks did Kagome—Kagome, the girl who actively sat him for trying to interrupt her study time—when did that girl decide that she didn't want to go to school?

If he wasn't entirely sure of it, he'd believe that maybe there was an impersonator here, but they were doing such a fucking terrible job that it had to be ruled out. Even Naraku could do a better job than this, and he knew pretty much fuck all about her life.

She'd come up the stairs from their 'shopping' trip, and promptly collapsed in her bed, falling asleep within moments of curling up on her blankets.

They'd had to wait for her to catch her breath on the stairs, and quite frankly, he was impressed that she'd made it up that far without stopping. He knew that she was still recouperating. He knew that she needed rest more so than normal, but it didn't seem like she wanted it.

He'd agreed to the trip only because he knew it was necessary and the thought of her leaving on her own to go somewhere that he couldn't see was a terrifying concept, and one that made his heart pound relentlessly in his chest.

It just wasn't happening. She wasn't going anywhere without him.

So he went, and then her friends showed up, and instead of the traditional Kagome response of chatting away while his life flashed before his eyes as he tried to think of ways to escape them before they actually noticed he existed, she damn near ran away from them.

He dropped the bags on the floor next to her bed, noting that she'd passed out.

He didn't have to be quiet about anything because she slept like the fucking dead these days. His ears flattened, and he didn't hide the grimace at his own words.

That was a terrible comparison, considering all things.

How was it that his brain couldn't even manage to not be an asshole to himself?

Sango was right. He really did have a problem, didn't he?

He looked at the sleeping girl on the bed, watched the slow rise and fall of her chest, the way she'd curled up on top of the blankets, the way her dress covered all the scars she bore now.

It was the stillest she'd been since they'd broken the curse. Kagome had been in a state of constant movement. A steady stream of action from working on her school work to helping Kaede and Sango or just going on rambling walks.

She had to be doing something all the time, at every moment, because when she didn't, he could practically feel the nervous energy vibrate out of her.

He recognized that feeling. He understood it. It was the same feeling he'd had when they were searching for her. He needed to move, to keep doing something, because stillness meant nothing, that they weren't looking, working, seeking her out.

But Kagome had none of that. Kagome wasn't in danger; she wasn't threatened by anything here, so why?

He'd thought that the nervous energy would stop once they passed through the well, but instead, it seemed to multiply and develop into something more menacing and threatening than he could've fathomed.

But the real question was how to stop it?

How did he fix this?

Letting out a sigh, he ran his claws through the hair that fell onto her bed; her back was to him, and she let out a soft breath in return, her hand clenching for just a moment.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, he watched her sleep.

It felt like he'd finally caught up on all his missing sleep too. That level of exhaustion was uncommon for him, not that it wasn't merited for the circumstance, but still, it was highly unusual. It felt like he'd been drained of everything for weeks.

Again, all unusual.

He ran his fingers through her bangs, fighting the urge, once again, to curl up behind her and cradle her body with his own.

Because she also hadn't been touching him as much as before.

And fuck him if he didn't miss it already.

And he was pretty sure that telling her to touch him would have the opposite effect that he intended it to have.

Besides she needed to sleep, he reminded himself. She needed to sleep, because she hadn't been sleeping well, and she needed more than what she was getting.

And he wasn't going to stand in the way of it.

Shifting on her bed, he carefully lifted her feet and tugged the blanket free, shaking it out and dragging it up and over her body, tucking it around her still form, making sure that she was covered and warm.

She made a small noise, nose crinkling, and he waited a beat as she resettled, resting a hand on her shoulder before he stood up and went downstairs to clear his head. Kagome wasn't going to wake up anytime soon, but he knew that he couldn't pace the room with her in it. He needed to move, to do something, and there was nothing for him to do in that room of hers. Nothing productive at least.

Taking a quick sniff of the air, he caught tail of her mother's scent and only hers currently in the house. Her mother was in the kitchen sipping at a cup of tea. She glanced up as he walked in, and motioned for him to take a seat.

"Would you like some ramen?" She asked as she stood already in motion to prepare him one, because when had he ever refused ramen?

"Uh, sure?" He said with a shrug, and then watched as she moved around the kitchen preparing him a steaming cup of noodles before sitting back down at the table in front of him.

"How was your trip to the store?" She asked him, not making eye contact as she pushed a small stack of printed papers off to the side.

"Uh, it was good? Kagome ran into those girls from her school."

"Oh? I'm sure that they were excited to see her again. They've called a few times to see how she was doing."

He stared at the cup of noodles before, trying to think of something to say.

Kagome had told him explicitly not to say anything to her mother, but he was finding it harder and harder to dance around the topic.

"They did—They seemed worried about her." Not like they didn't have a right to be after the way she'd acted.

"They've been friends since they were little. Those three were always together. Kagome was the one who came in later. They've always been close, and they've always supported each other."

"That—that's good," he answered, taking a bite of his noodles. Somehow it had never quite clicked that Kagome had a life outside of their adventures through the well. He knew the girls, he knew her school, he knew several things, but somehow seeing her this way made it more real than before. It made everything click into place, and he glanced up the stairs, he found himself struggling to not feel even worse about what he had let happen to her.

No, Kagome had forgiven him. She didn't blame him, so there was no need to blame himself.

But that didn't mean that her mother would forgive him if she found out about it. He swallowed down the food that tasted like dirt now.

"Mmm, but I find that she's happier when she's talking about you and the others on the other side of the well."

"She—she does?" His ears wiggled as he looked up from his almost empty cup of noodles.

"I think so," she said with a small smile. "She talks a lot about all of you when she returns. Always so many stories," she mused, shifting the papers again with one hand.

He finished the last bite and stood to throw the cup away.

"Which is why I think that it's odd that she doesn't have any stories this time, especially after being gone for so long."

He gulped. He should've stayed in the room. Stayed in the room with Kagome. Stayed where it was safe, because now, he was in the kitchen with her mother, and he was not safe.

Repeat: he was not safe.

So he did the only thing he could think of that would ensure his continued existence, he took a vow of silence. If he didn't talk then he couldn't say anything wrong and ruin the only thing he really cared about.

"Inuyasha?" Kagome's voice called from upstairs, and he quickly stood.

"Kagome's awake," he said as an excuse and darted up the stairs before her mother could really protest his departure.

He was in her room and shutting the door behind him, blocking it with his body.

"Inuyasha?" She asked him, and he crossed the small space to sit back on her bed. Kagome hadn't moved at all, only shifting to watch him as he panicked in her bedroom.

"Your mother is terrifying," he stated, staring at the blanket, refusing to look at her.

And then, the little wench giggled at him.

"What?" He snapped at her. "What is so fucking funny?"

"You're—" She broke into a fit of giggles again. "You! You're scared? Of my mom?"

He scowled at her; he couldn't help it. But that scowl dampened the more she giggled and laughed at him, and he turned away just so she couldn't see him.

"Don't see how that's funny."

"It's just that you've faced down demons larger than my house, and you're terrified of my mother?"

"Oh, shut up," he told her, and she only giggled more.

"I'm sorry. It's just really funny."

"Whatever," he rested his chin in his palm, and he felt her move to sit beside him. He was not going to look at her, but quickly gave that up when her head came to rest on his shoulder and her arm wrapped around his.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Whatever." He didn't move, lest she take herself away from him. He just wanted to hold her forever or as long as she would let him, which ever was longer. "I'm not upset," he clarified.

"Good." Her fingers moved, gliding over the thin skin of his wrist, tracing the veins there.

She was always touching him.

Until she wasn't.

He turned his head to look at her, letting his nose drift through her hair, and she exhaled softly before pulling her hand away from his skin.

Was it sad that he missed her already?


He shut the door behind him, hesitating. Something rolled under his skin; his instincts completely disquieted.

She'd dismissed him from her side, sent him away to go help her grandfather, and even though he'd promised the old man that he would help him move boxes around the shed, he really didn't want to leave. But he had no reason to stay behind, and he'd heard them working outside earlier.

He shouldn't go.

But the quicker he went, the faster he could return.

He started down the steps, ears craned back listening to the silence of her room.

She'd sent him away.

Part of him was actually glad. Kagome's normal mode of anger was to separate herself from him when she got upset enough. His ears flattened at the thought that she might be mad at him, but he was also somewhat relieved that she was returning, albeit slowly, to her normal self.

He'd take the slow and steady route as long as she improved, though he'd hoped that it wouldn't involve him being separated from her. Already, his instincts were grating against themselves and wanting to return and beg forgiveness.

And touching!

He'd never wanted to actually touch someone constantly. It felt like withdrawal whenever he wasn't in some form of contact with her, which was weird within itself because that had never been an issue before.

Don't touch the hanyou had been a societal mandate for ages now.

Ugh—but hugging? Hugging was the shit. And the other morning when she slept on him? Pretty sure there wasn't a drug out there that compared to that. He just wanted to do that—forever.

But he felt pretty sure he'd get slapped if he said anything of the sort, like 'hey, I just want to hold you and stare at you while you sleep.' He almost wanted to slap himself just for thinking it. But seriously, he would never stop her from hugging him, ever. She could climb all over him, and he'd never stop her.

"Oh, there you are!" The old man called from across the shrine grounds, breaking his line of thought. Pretty sure the old man would have an issue with him thinking about all the ways he could just touch his granddaughter.

Inuyasha turned towards the sound of his voice, walking towards him, arms crossed over his chest and tucked into his sleeves.

He wanted boxes moved and shifted around on shelves.

They weren't heavy for him by any means, just mostly bulky boxes that the old man didn't really have any reason to carry.

"Oh, I'm glad that you came out to help, Inuyasha," her mother stated as she appeared in the doorway, turning towards the old man. "I thought that you might like a little additional help?"

"Oh, I think the two of us have it quite under control at the moment." He sighed, a loud exhale as he looked up and down at the shelves. Inuyasha set the box down wondering what this 'we' shit was. 'We' hadn't done shit. 'We' hadn't moved boxes. "Think you could help me tighten these screws here too, boy? These shelves have been getting looser as the years wear on."

"It moves much more than it used to. The other day I was worried the whole thing would come crashing down."

"Uh, sure," he said, looking at the small box that the old man had out in front of him. It was a similar look to Kagome's medical box, but this one was bigger, longer, and obviously sounded much heavier. He flipped the latch revealing several different tools, picking out one and handing it to Inuyasha.

"Alright, boy, now's the time for you to learn something."

When was the last time that any one had wanted to teach him anything?

His mother's lessons drifted back to him, and for a moment, he was stunned deaf and dumb.

"Now, I know they don't have tools like these from your time, but they're simple enough for you to use."

He scowled at the old man.

"I ain't stupid, old man."

"That's not what he meant, dear," her mother said, patting him on the shoulder. "We know that some things are new to you. Father is going to teach you what they are and how to use them, so you don't feel so out of place here."

Watching her for a moment, she patted his shoulder and stepped away.

The old man nodded, waving off his insult as nothing more than a misunderstanding, and proceeded to point to the screwdriver and the corresponding screws and instruct him on what he wanted him to do.

It was simple enough. The tool was nearly a perfect fit for the screws that he needed to tighten, but not too much or else he could cause the damage that they were trying to avoid. They helped hold the shelves steady so that he could work on the upper levels easily.

While he was glad to help, he never minded helping out the old man, especially when he was bored and had nothing better to do while Kagome was at school, but right now, his focus was torn on trying to figure out what had upset the girl. She was avoiding his gaze, and then suddenly she almost didn't want to be in the same room again, which was strange for as close as she'd been with him.

She seemed almost as dependent on him as he was on her. He didn't want to leave her alone; he didn't want to be apart from her. Which was a new feeling to say the least.

He'd never felt this way about anything, much less anyone.

He finished the top shelf, already feeling better about its sturdiness.

He continued working on the screws of the next couple of shelves, which were still out of the old man's reach.

When he was done, he handed the tool back to the old man.

"Ah, thank you, boy," the old man said, taking the tool and placing it back inside his box.

"Is that it?" He asked, hoping that they would say yes, and he could go back up to Kagome's room, where she'd hopefully calmed down and would agree to see him again.

Please say yes, he repeated inside his head. Please say yes.

"I think so," the old man said, giving a cursory glance around his shed. Inuyasha's entire body was tensed and ready to bolt the moment that they gave him permission to leave.

They just had to say it, give him leave, and he'd be gone and back beside her. She wasn't well, and he needed to be with her.

That agitation was back; the complete unease while being separated from her. He needed to watch her, look after her, but what did he do when she didn't want him?

He glanced at her mother, who was helping the old man to put things back up on the shelves.

He should really tell her. He should say something about his suspicions and Kagome's troubling behavior. Her mother would know what to do, right? She had to know how to fix this.

But Kagome had asked him not to say anything, and so he opted to keep his trap shut.

"Inuyasha?" Her mother called as she set a small box on the shelf in front of her. "Thank you for your help. You can go back into the house if you'd like."

He gave them a curt nod, ducking out of the shed and moving briskly across the shrine grounds. Kagome had told him often enough to avoid doing anything that would draw attention to his half-demon status. She said it was for his own protection, but sometimes he wondered what she meant by that.

He was halfway across the grounds when her scent gave him pause.

She was outside?

By herself?

Not that he was complaining but Kagome hadn't gone anywhere by herself in weeks.

Well, aside from that first outing to the Goshinboku a few days ago, but since then? She'd been attached to the hip to someone in their group.

And here? She was constantly looking for him in some fashion. When he'd been downstairs to talk to her mother, she'd nearly had a small freak out at him being away from her.

It definitely wasn't healthy; he knew that, but he didn't know how to fix it.

Everyone kept saying that these things took time, but how much was too much?

He followed the trail, sniffing the air, eyes widening as he realized that she was heading for the well house.

Rules be damned, he leapt off after her, throwing the doors open just as she was putting her leg over the edge. He snatched her arm, dragging her off the edge and towards him.

"What the fuck do you think that you're doing?" He roared. But, you know, gently.

She shifted, and he noted that the backpack strap had to be digging into the wound on her shoulder. He pulled the strap off, taking the weight from her.

"No! Don't!"

"Answer me, Kagome!"

"No!" She was still reaching for the backpack, as if trying to pull it back on.

"Kagome!" He gritted out between clenched teeth, hand tightening on the shoulder strap.

"I was going back!" She shouted, reaching behind him as he tossed the bag somewhere outside of her reach. "Inuyasha!"

"You were just going to go back by yourself!"

"We should be hunting for the jewel shards! Not wasting time around here!"

That—that made him pause just for a moment. Because that was a weird thing for her to say.

"Wasting time? You're always begging me to go home. Hell, you've sat me enough for it." She moved to jump in the well, and he shifted their positions to block her, putting more space between herself and her mode of escape.

"Yeah, well, that was then! We're wasting time. We should be on the road! Shouldn't you be jumping at the chance for this?" She tried pushing past him again, but he kept a firm grip on her shoulders, pinning her in place.

"Kagome," he started, trying to find the words that would garner him an answer and not a sitting. "Why don't you want to stay?"

"Why don't you want to leave?" She shouted back.

"Hey, you can't answer my question with a question!"

"Says who?"

"Me! Now, answer my question, dammit!"

"No!" She pushed at his hands, but like always, she was no match for him in that particular department. "Let me go, Inuyasha!"

"Kagome, stop!"

"No! Make me!"

He growled at the challenge, moving faster than his own brain could process. Scooping her up off the ground, he leapt away from the well house, and in one singular bound was up in the higher branches of the Goshinboku. High enough that Kagome could not escape herself. He set her down next to the trunk, squatting on his heels as he stared at her.

"Explain, Kagome," he growled, irritated at the notion that she would try to leave without him, that she would put herself in that danger, willingly, all because she was afraid of something and wouldn't tell him about it. She didn't talk for a long time, shifting to pull her knees towards her chest, and then opting to cover her face with her hands.

"I just want to go back, please," she whispered, and he could tell that she'd started to cry. He didn't need his nose to know that; the soft shaking of her shoulders told him enough. But the smell of it only added to his misery, at being the cause behind it.

"Why?" He asked, and she shook her head.

"I just want to go," she insisted, shaking her head. "Please. I just want to go."

"No, not until you explain why."

"Please, Inuyasha," she begged him, face tear-streaked, and he almost gave in. Almost took her back because the sight of her, like that, again, was too much. It made something in him grate at the idea of being the cause of her upset. But he had to—he had to push forward—for her.

"Kagome," he started, struggling to find the words that eluded him so easily. He opened and shut his mouth several times over the course of the next few seconds that he was sure he looked like an idiot flapping his maw at the wind.

He almost gave in. Almost.

"Kagome, tell me why you want to go back."

"I want to go back, isn't that enough?" She still refused to meet his gaze, and he shifted so that he was closer to her, nearly hovering over her crouched form on the tree.

"It's just me, Kagome," he said, and she hugged herself tighter, drawing herself away from him, trying to sink farther back into the trunk behind her.

And like fuck that was happening.

He grabbed her, probably a little rougher than he intended, drawing her against him, holding her close, anything to ease this—this anxiety that he felt. Hugging her helped. Pressing her as close as possible against him helped. There was a turbulence in him that he hadn't felt in a very long time, not since he was young, but when he held her—man, that was the best, like scratching an itch he didn't know needed scratching.

And that relief increased when she wrapped her arms slowly around him, gripping the sides of his haori as she sniffled.

He stifled his own sigh of frustration.

He wasn't good at this. Trying to talk things out only ever made everything worse. How many times had he been sat or yelled at because he said the wrong thing? He just wanted to hold her—forever, if possible.

But she obviously wasn't talking, so it was up to him. He could do this.

Demand answers.

But, you know, gently.

Very gently.

"Kagome," he spoke softly, trying to keep the edge out of his voice, and she shook her head, burying her face into his chest. "Why do you want to leave?"

A half-muted sob broke out of her mouth.

"I'm sorry!" She blurted out, fingers digging into the sides of his coat, like she would anchor him to this branch—or to her.

Idiot.

She should already know that he was hers.

A sudden realization struck, rooting him statuesque and afraid in front of the girl.

Oh no.

Oh shit.

He loved her, didn't he?

Fuck.

He did.

He fucking loved her.

This wasn't going to complicate things at all.

But no worries, everything would just proceed as normal. He'd pretend that nothing had changed, and just normal the shit out of everything.

Yeah, that's it.

Good plan.

"Why—why are you apologizing?"

Another sob and then a quiet sniffle.

"I don't know!"

"You don't know why you're apologizing?"

Repeating questions seemed like a good plan for talking. After all, he wasn't saying anything, she was. That should keep him out of trouble, right?

"Yes!" She froze, hesitating, "No!"

"Well? Which one is it?"

She tilted her head up, eyes red, cheeks splotchy, and utterly captivatingly beautiful.

He swallowed.

Be.

Normal.

"Are you trying to be a jerk?" Her eyes narrowed, and, even though she didn't release him in any sort of fashion, it was obvious that she was the tiniest bit upset with him.

He was both surprised and alarmed at how easily the words almost slipped out. He wouldn't burden her with that; he'd keep that secret to himself. It would only complicate things that were already complicated enough.

"Yes," he answered and with a smug grin, he continued, "No."

She huffed, irritated at his answer and for mocking her, but she wasn't crying anymore.

He probably shouldn't hold her hostage in a tree, demanding answers either.

"Come on," he said, shifting to a better position to pick her up. "We can talk in your room."

"Can—" She started, obviously struggling with whatever she wanted to say. "Can we—" He remained still, waiting on her response. "Stay? Just for a bit longer?"

That was it? That was all she wanted?

It seemed like a strange request, but whatever was happening to her—with her—he knew that if he tried to pry it out of her, she'd crack like a clay pot whose lid was too firmly attached. She'd pressed whatever it was deep down, and he needed to figure out where to slip a claw in and break the seal on the lid just enough so that he could peer inside.

Be patient, they'd said over and over.

"'Course," he said, shifting to sit down beside as he'd done ages ago in a similar tree in Kaede's village. She leaned against him in the same way, and he wrapped an arm around her in the same manner.

She was injured.

He was not.

He'd loved her then, and he loved her now.

It was the same really. Nothing had really changed at all, had it?


A/N: So I struggled with the ending to this chapter a little bit. Am I thrilled with it? Eh, it's not awful, but it's not great in my opinion.

But I did want to inform you that I don't think I'll have a chapter for you next week. It's been a rough week to say the least. To give you some perspective, I'm pretty sure I had a really mild case of food poisoning, and haven't really eaten anything for 48 hours, but I still went to work because there are no subs, and I couldn't in good conscience push an additional 180 kids to my coworkers, and grades are due, which is also always a fun week of students panicking now when they should have been panicking two weeks ago when I told them to panic.

And then there's Thanksgiving, which is bound to busy, and I, quite frankly, I need a week off from just everything. Running off into the woods and never returning is still an option, right? I mean, kinda like Thoreau's Walden, but less personal introspection and reflection and more drawing pictures on a cave wall with a stick dipped in the blood of my enemies. You feel me?