She looked at him, not blinking. She still looked the same, still lovely and beautiful and graceful. She walked to him and tilted her neck up to look at him in the face. "Inu-Yasha," she said, her voice light and airy like a living melody. "I'm alive."
He blinked, staring back at her. He was at a loss for words. He remembered numbly as she touched his cheek, pulling him down towards her. He remembered her lips brushing against his. But most of all, he remembered the strong scent that assaulted him, a scent of earth and bones. He saw Kikyo, saw the woman that he remembered. But he could not smell the soft, flowery scent that was her. He did not remember this person that embraced him so warmly. Earth and bones... but only earth and bones.
Then, he smelled another scent. He inhaled and breathed in her scent. The smell of cleanliness, cherry blossoms. The scent that gave him a sense of security and home... and love. He inhaled again, filling his nose with that scent, and kissed the lips that touched his deeply and lovingly, filled with all the passion that he had for this one scent. Numbly, he heard the choked sob that he would never forget.
Still, as she finally left the site, her eyes would not close. She felt so lost, so alone... yet her eyes would not shed any tears. It was so ironic that when she thought about something that could happen, anything that her imagination could think up of that could possibly happen between Inu-Yasha and Kikyo, she would cry; but when something actually does happen between the two, she couldn't. Strange. She was lost, having stumbled upon something that she did not want to see, but she did not deny it either. 'It happened,' her mind whispered to her, as if the words were consoling. '... So what?'
"... I have to find her," he choked out, not remotely caring whether or not this woman in front of him understood what he had just said. He walked away from her then, slightly stumbling over his own feet. Then, without thinking, he took to the skies, looking for what was his.
He tried to remember what just happened. Everything was blurred, and he couldn't make it out. 'What happened?' his mind screamed, accusing him. Why did he feel so lost and so out of place? What had happened that made him react the way he did to Kikyo? All he knew was that Kagome was there, and she had seen them. He also knew that what just happened back then wasn't supposed to happen and that it never should have happened.
He looked down and saw her, perhaps by chance. He had taken to the sky blindly, in hopes that he would find her before she left him. 'Leave me?' he asked himself numbly. 'Would she do that? And abandon me?' Spotting her below him, half hidden in the midst of gigantic trees, he glided to the ground and dropped in front of her path, crouching halfway to regain his balance. Standing up straight, he examined her.
Her eyes were out of focus, but as they stared at him, her eyes seemed to him to be accusing him. He wanted to turn away so that she wouldn't see the shame in his eyes. But he couldn't trust himself to let her out of his sight. Who knows what he would do if she... He forced the thought out of his mind and attempted to speak to her. "Kagome," he whispered tentatively, wanting to reach out and do something to make her understand that he had never meant to hurt her--that he never meant to send her lost in an oblivion that he had been in before.
Her eyes snapped back into focus. A small smile showed on her face as she answered him with his name.
"Kagome," he persisted, taking a step forward and reaching out to her. What was wrong with her? Was she in shock? He flinched when she backed away from him mechanically. "Please Kagome," he begged. "Listen to me."
"I'm okay," she whispered, the half smile still shining on her face. A part of him twisted up in anguish as he saw through the lie. "I just need... a little time."
He stepped towards her and grabbed her arm before she could move away. "Please, listen..."
"But Inu- "
"I know," he answered in hushed tones, soothing and gentle, but his mind was frantic with worry and it seemed as if chaos had taken over his mind as he was startled that he had scared her. She was scared of him. His heart twisted in despair and he quickly changed his thoughts and words into something else. "I... I just need you to promise me you'll come back." He had wanted so much to say something else, to assure her that he hadn't kissed Kikyo purposefully, that it was her that he?
She smiled for him again, her eyes beaming this time. "Of course."
His heart broke then, for some reason. What had just happened here? Why was she acting like this? Did she not care for him at all, that she would just let someone else come here and kiss him, and not care? "We'll talk when you'll come back," he said, insistent on making sure that she'll be here, making sure that he would be able to have a second chance. She nodded and continued to walk away from him.
His hopes fell as he watched her receding form. Indeed, she was leaving him; abandoning him, as he so put it, right in the middle of his despair. He wanted to scream, to shout at her insults to make her come back so that she could yell back at him, if only to see her face. But how on earth could he do that to her now of all times? Especially since this was his fault? Gently cradling his head in his hands, he scolded himself for being so reckless; he was angry and upset at himself and wanted so much to vent his anger on something, anything.
'I should have made her stay,' he thought, 'should've kept her here to explain.' To explain everything, to reveal everything in his heart. He should not have waited this long to tell her. Waited until something like this could destroy what little of a relationship that they had. He wanted so much to be able to do such things that he dreamed of, like holding her, cradling her in his arms and whispering words of love in her ear; making her smile with just a touch, or kissing her in a warm embrace. He could have been doing this now, if it weren't for his blasted cowardliness.
Instead of all of that, he could only wait now.
She had just been here for a moment, but then she was suddenly aware of a presence in front of her, blocking her way to the well. She did not have to look to know that it was a demon. She didn't even have to look to know that it wasn't
Inu-Yasha. She only felt the pain burning in her, engulfing her entire being, wrecking her body with a fire full of aching loneliness.
The demon stared at her, lifting an eyebrow in wonder. She was aware that he was here, he knew that. He knew that she had the ability to sense supernatural things, such as the presence of demons, or of Shikon shards. But the girl did not flinch, did not move from the rock to shield herself from danger. Had it not been for the way her body shivered in the sunlight, or how his inhuman hearing could hear her heavy breathing, he would have thought that she was sleeping. But no, she was awake and aware of his presence.
"Get up, wench," he commanded, his voice not tense, nor angry. In fact, his voice wasn't raised a bit louder than any normal speaking voice. Perhaps if she hadn't been ignoring him, or hadn't been so lost in herself; perhaps if she had squirmed out of his way as he passed, he would have ignored her and left her alone. After all, she had very few uses to him. But since she had chosen to deliberately ignore him tempted his repute; this girl had not even stood up to snarl insults as she would have had if Inu-Yasha had been with her.
"Shut up and go away," came the reply through gritted teeth.
He marveled at this girl. He almost wanted to laugh. Was she so upset that she wasn't afraid for her well-being? He watched, almost intrigued, as her body would take in a deep breath of air, then it would stop moving. After a moment, it would then be wracked with shivers. She was crying, he knew. But it wasn't like the wailing that he heard so often from the village women when he was there to kill them for merely living. No, it was different; it was silent, and desolate, full of despair. Lacking hope. Half intrigued, he noticed the rock she was crying on was big enough for the both of them, and so, gathering his tail in one arm, he sat down, sitting beside her head.
He waited for a moment, wondering if the girl would move then, him being so close to her body. But she continued to inhale slowly... continued to ignore him. Inside, an unfamiliar burn rose in his chest, a feeling that he had not felt in years. Rage. It was the very slow beginning of rage. First it started out small in impatience. He wanted her to notice him. To realize that he was no ordinary demon. Impatience turned into irritation. Why would she not acknowledge him? He was not stupid. She had powers, he was sure of it. There was also the presence of a couple of Shikon shards on her body... But for some odd reason, they were trivial compared to this girl's blatant ignorance.
He gritted his teeth slowly, unable to see into this girl's train of thought. Her head was filled with all kinds of emotions, rage and anger being the most predominant but there was nothing specific that told him about why she was here or why she was ignoring him. But as he tried to search her thoughts, a feeling inside her mind and heart welled to the top, overwhelming his senses. The feeling that overtook him was something that he had not fairly experienced before, but he recognized it as a pain of loss. The powerful pull of this emotion drew him towards her and as he gritted his teeth in frustration, as he tried to get out of her thoughts, he found himself slowly raising his had over her head, as if to touch her.
Almost immediately, after he recognized his hand's intent, he took a hold of his emotions and calmed himself, forcing her mind away from his, a bit brutally. Silently, he inhaled the clean air and made peace with himself. As he looked down at his raised hand, he saw her at that very moment shiver in the sunlight and a thought struck him about how terrible she must feel if she had to endure this emotion as a human when he himself could barely get him away from the sensation though he was a demon. Another feeling bombarded his senses: compassion. Slowly, the raised hand descended onto the top of her head, touching her hair lightly. His whole body tensed as her body tensed and relaxed when she relaxed. He allowed his hand to rest on her head then, still on guard, but much more relaxed than he had been before.
Her hair felt exquisitely soft underneath his fingertips. Out of curiosity, he started to slowly run a couple of his fingers through her hair, taking delight in the way it felt as the silky black strands separated and entwined with his fingers. She raised her head then, a bit startled. He watched her as the dawning of realization of who he was came upon her face. That was moment was brief and then she didn't care anymore. He had hoped for her to be afraid, like she had been before at their first encounter. He realized with much amusement that she was at the point of pain that she didn't fear anything anymore.
He didn't even have a reason for being here. He hadn't counted on her being here, and he didn't have any uses for her. He could use her to get the
tetsusaiga, of course, but then that would be rather cowardly of him. He didn't need anyone, much less this inferior human girl, to help him get the sword. Instinctively, before she could bury her head back in her arms he dropped his tail, grabbed her chin lightly and forced her to look back at him. Her face was tear-stained, her eyes red. She refused to meet his eyes however, disabling from searching further into her soul. However, her eyes weren't so different from those pairs of eyes that he was familiar with; eyes belonging to beings who were just about to die, usually from his hands. There was absolutely no hope in her eyes, no emotion other than pain. That he was familiar with. He watched, intrigued, as she, with delicate fingers, wiped tears away from her right eye. His hand that had been on her head, moved to her face to wipe her tears from her other eye. She blinked surprised. She snapped her head away from his grasp; He was not surprised that she had done so, his hold on her had been light.
"Please go away, Sessho-maru."
He was astounded that she would be polite to him, especially now, while she was so vulnerable. "There is nothing I can do?" he asked. The words shocked him. Had he gone crazy? so crazy that he would assist another being, a human-being even?
She laughed then, turning away from him. Her laughter was hollow and utterly devoid of hope. "Unless you can mend a broken heart,
Sessho-maru-sama," she answered, his name spoken with feigned respect. "There is nothing." Tears fell readily from her eyes again. She knew she was at a complete loss. She was pushing him, she knew. He was a cold-hearted killer, capable of killing millions without batting those pretty lashes of his. But she didn't care. Perhaps she had hoped that he would kill her. After all, death is so much easier to handle than pain. Especially the pain of heartache, betrayal, loss... She had given so much, for nothing. And she was lost and so very alone. She brought a hand to her mouth as her voice choked and hot tears fell from her eyes. So much pain.
He surprised her, and him, as he pulled her towards him, pulled her onto the rock and into his lap with much ease; gently, he buried her face against his chest. It had been a reflex, but he had never done this before. She didn't protest though; instead, she wove her fingers tightly into his clothing. He was comforted that she didn't try to get away from him, although he did not know why. This was so strange to him, so very new. He was puzzled into a thoughtful state. Still, he wrapped his beautiful tail protectively around her and held on tightly to her as she cried quietly.
He knew what it felt like to be jealous. To loathe someone because they had done something to her that he could never do though he wanted to. He remembered how he loathed Miroku at the beginning. He detested the monk for forcing...He sighed, no 'allowing', he corrected himself, 'allowing' Kagome to admire the monk for his debonair qualities of a gentleman. He remembered the first time that Miroku had touched Kagome, feigning to be unconscious while touching her in 'that' way. His eyes blazed with anger, still furious that the 'humble' monk had done so upon one of their first meetings. Inu-Yasha was infuriated that Miroku dared to touch her in 'that' way when he couldn't bring himself to touch her face... although he badly wanted to.
He swallowed, trying to force himself to calm down from his short temper. Sometimes his want to touch her was so unbearable. She was there, she was always there, just right in front of him. The way she smiled, the way she looked at him; sometimes it drove him to the brink of insanity to watch her run her fingers through her hair absentmindedly and not be able to run his own fingers through her lovely black hair. Perhaps he was just being cowardly for not being able to reach out and just touch her for once. To show her that he did care about her, more than she could ever possibly imagine. To feel her skin underneath his fingertips, or to press her body tightly against his own. He crumpled to his feet, helpless. The yearning in his body was growing restless. He wanted so much but he couldn't bring himself to do it.
That was why, he realized. 'That's what happened.' He had needed her so much, needed so much to make up with her for being upset, for upsetting her. When he saw Kikyo, he was surprised and was even more surprised when the usually quiet priestess brought her lips up to his, and kissed him gently. When Kagome's scent came to him, he was lost beyond all reason and his allowed himself to be entranced by her scent. Nothing had been real anymore and he allowed himself to be completely absorbed by her, allowed himself to give into his desires and kiss her... only, he didn't kiss Kagome. He had kissed Kikyo.
He buried his face in his hands, his hopes lost. 'How?' he thought miserably. '-How- did I allow myself to do such a thing?' They were -not- the same. They could never -be- the same. Yes, they looked the same. But that was it. He loved her, he knew. Cared for her with all of his being. But he had never been able to tell her like he should have been able to.
She was so indescribably different from Kikyo. Obviously, there were some traits that just shone differently from Kikyo. While Kikyo was humble and demure, Kagome was outspoken and wasn't afraid to stand up for herself. Yes, Kikyo had been very good with archery, and while Kagome at times sucked, she had her own strength. Their intelligence differed from one another. Their smile, their eyes. So different... so how had he been able to lose himself in Kikyo, in the way that he wanted to lose himself in Kagome? No... not how, by why?
Ah... Because, if he had dared to try to lose himself in her, there was the very likely possibility that she would refuse him that privilege. Rejected and scorned forevermore, to lose his freedom to be near her... He didn't dare try to touch her in this why, because she might adamantly refuse him, like she always did at his accidental peekings of her bathing. Like she did that afternoon when he tried to tell her, he thought scornfully. She would no longer want to be around him... and he would lose the honor of just being able to see her and that alone would be his death. He would no longer be living if he didn't have her to be his source of life.
The aching and longing in his heart grew as he thought of how she should be home now. Home with her family, with people who cared for her. He had no one, but her. She was his home. His life. His everything. And she might leave him now. 'When she comes back... I'll hold her. And touch her.' He closed his eyes, thinking of how her warm flesh would feel against his skin. 'But she'll despise me,' he thought objecting, the enticing thoughts dissipating in less than the blink of his eye. 'She'll despise me for touching her in such a way, especially after I touched Kikyo like that...' He despaired. What was he to do?
She stood a distance away from him, half hidden behind a tree. He looked so lost and lonely, sitting in the middle of the green grove. The sun was slowly making its descent, radiating his form. Her heart fell, along with her hopes for her past love. Here he was, looking as lovely as ever even in his quiet desolation; and he was mourning after he kissed her.
Gingerly, Kikyo lifted a hand to her mouth, her fingertips barely grazing her lower lip. Even the softest touch could not compare to the way his lips felt against hers... And then that passion that came afterwards. Such passion that she had never experienced before, passion that he had never given to her before. She sighed wistfully, knowing the truth.
Slowly, cautiously, she walked up behind him, and then placed a hand on his shoulder. He did not flinch. Perhaps he didn't care that she had touched him. Or maybe he didn't recognize her touch or presence. She licked her lips and swallowed, trying to loosen her tongue. Then she spoke, saying, "That kiss, was not meant for me,
ne, Inu-Yasha?" her voice, so very ladylike, did not have to be carried on the wind to reach his ears his ears. He had heard, despite how soft she had spoken.
His shoulders sagged underneath her hand as he regretfully sighed. "No, Kikyo," he answered, remorsefully. "It wasn't. I'm... sorry, Kikyo. I'm so very sorry." He pressed his palms tightly against his eyes, willing himself to feel the pain that was buried inside his body. The ache and loneliness seemed to engulf him now.
Kikyo's heart fell, even farther than it had earlier. Although she had already known, it hurt to hear him admit it. "I didn't think so," she told him softly, wistfully. She should be upset. Should be angry. She should take his soul away from him, just as he ripped out her heart so brutally now and laid it at her feet. But she could not bring herself to do that as he sat at her feet, feeling the same sort of despair she was feeling now, even though for another person.
He dropped his hands, and his shoulders seemed to sag even more. His eyes were empty as he stared into oblivion. "What do you mean?" he asked, unemotionally, although he did wonder what the former priestess was getting at.
"You've never kissed me like that before. Even though I do wish you had," she told him wistfully, with a half-smile on her face.
Inu-Yasha blinked, surprised at her remark. He almost wanted to laugh, to think that the quiet priestess that he once knew dreamed of being kissed with a passion. He always thought of her as quite different from that; always quiet, always demure, even while fighting off demons and monsters in the heat of battle. She never showed such a want for passion before.
"Was it for her, then?" she asked candidly. She didn't want to ask, seeing how she already knew the answer. But she asked anyway, almost wanting to hear it from himself. Almost, but not quite.
She was answered by his silence.
"I see." Although it wasn't quite the answer that she expected, though it wasn't in the form that she had asked for, she still got her answer. But she wished she hadn't received it.
Standing in the looming sunset, she could hear the wind rustle in the trees. She also heard birds chirping their goodnights to their neighbors and animals hustling about to get back to their homes. Had it not been for all the commotion going on, she could have sworn by her grave... what was left of it anyway, that she could hear Inu-Yasha crying. She, herself, was trying her best not to let tears fall from her own eyes. After all, it wasn't very ladylike to cry in public. One should always wait until no one could see, and then cry her heart out.
She knew that she should leave. She didn't know where to; after all, where was she welcomed? She was practically a demoness now, not the priestess that protected all humankind from demons and ogres and
oni. She would have to kill herself to re-obtain that reputation. She had just been given the chance to live again, she was not about to take it away herself. Though she had planned to live with Inu-Yasha or take him to the grave with her, she knew in her heart that that was not going to happen. And with knowing that, she shouldn't be here, hurting herself more than need be. But he was in the same sort of despair. She could not leave him like this, alone like she was for such a long time.
She still remembered the little demon pup who did not know how to survive on his own, lost from his mother who was taken from this world, scorned and hated by his half-brother... he was most definitely alone, like she had been and was, and had no one to depend on. And he had met her. Fallen for her. Loved her. She did not turn him away, but instead relied on him. Now, she would not turn him away. Instead, she'd let him rely on her.
When she could not find anything else to say to him, they shared each other's company in silence until nightfall, both hearts broken and in need of mending.
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He took delight in the way her chest rose against his with every breath she took and the way her warm breath tingled across his chest. His hands had long settled in her silky hair; her hair smelled like spring rain. She was an interesting creature... but he did not know why. Holding her in his arms was so natural that it made him feel confused. Why now? of all times, and of all people, did he start to take an interest in this person? What had possessed him to ask her if there was anything he could do to ease her pain?
He was a demon, a full-blooded demon. He should not care for such trivial things. He should have killed her on sight, just to spite his whelp of a half-brother. Instead, here he was, sitting on a mere rock (while he could have been lounging on an emperor's chair at his domain) cradling a girl in his lap (while he could have had any full-grown mistress demon in his lap right now) stroking her hair (...) and actually enjoying her presence. Gods, everything was wrong with this picture.
He should just kill her.
Now -that- would make the picture seem right. He could stand her up, play with her a little, show her his sympathy and compassion, and then rip out her heart. His all-too familiar sadistic grin started to show on his face. After all, what was the best cure for a broken heart than having no heart at all?
Her head stirred beneath his hand drawing his attention from his bloody fantasy. The girl rubbed her head against his warm clothing, gave out a small, contented, feminine sigh and rested her cheek on his chest. His previous gory fantasy dissipated as he watched her peaceful face while she slept.
The girl, after crying herself silly, had fallen asleep a while ago. It didn't matter to her that she was using him as a pillow and a bed. She had simply fallen asleep. And he hadn't cared. In fact, he hadn't even thought of it until now, after she stirred his thoughts.
He moved his hand from her hair, taking a moment to gently run his fingers through her hair, straightening it from the mess he had made of it, and then brushed his fingertips gently across her cheek. Her face was warm to the touch, but no longer wet from the tears she had shed.
"Damn girl," he told her sternly, his voice soft and sultry at the same time. "Why is my patience so drawn out?" Indeed, Sessho-maru had always had a lot of patience, but not ever towards humans. No, he never needed patience when dealing with humans. A wave of his hand and Jaken would finish them off for him. Or he could finish them off himself. But dealing with humans had always been so dirty, so disgustingly unsanitary. They themselves were dirty; they smelled foul and their faces were utterly revolting to look at. Of course, there was the momentary pleasantry of their horrified screams as they looked death in the eye... but that was about it. But this one... This one was clean. She smelled clean, her body did not give off any of the normal human odor that he was familiar with. Instead, her body scent was pleasant, appealing... enticing almost. Her hair, the gentle texture of her hair was soft and smooth, as sleek as the finest piece of silk he had ever touched--almost as soft as his own tail. And the way it smelled so clean, not like any other of the village woman whose hair almost always had a touch of oiliness to them.
She was different. Her clothes were clean... Although not very tasteful. He looked her over, wondering that if she wanted to reveal her body, why didn't she choose something more extravagant, something that belonged on her body? Sure, the garment she wore did expose her fine legs but still... He imagined her in the fine silk gown that one of the villages had bestowed to him as an offering to keep him from killing... Well, no matter about the fine details. But he could picture her in the dress, the silk clinging to her body, her hair half-up in a pin... She would look beautiful.
As he imagined her in his mind, she began slowly but surely to awaken. At first, she was about to fall asleep again, but there was something that was pestering her nose, making it itch in the most uncomfortable way. She raised a finger and rubbed her nose, trying to relieve the itch. Opening her eyes, she took the time to attempt to identify her surroundings. Everything was hazy and it took a moment for everything to come back to her, but she finally realized that she was sitting on top of
Sessho-maru. She looked up cautiously, careful not to set off any emotions in her face. The very last thing that she needed was for him to take delight in her fear.
Sessho-maru, on the other hand, watched bemused as she lifted her dainty little finger and rubbed the tip of her nose. He observed her facial expressions as she recounted the events of her day and noticed immediately as realization dawned on her about where she was. Not even so much as batting an eyelash, he looked at her as she lifted her face to look into his face. There was nothing in her facial expression that betrayed any emotion. But he wasn't interested in her facial expressions. Instead, he gazed deeply into her eyes, looking for something, though he did not know what he was looking for.
He was tempted to search her mind, using his inherited demon powers. He wondered what he would feel if he were to forcefully enter her mind, taking in her memories, her thoughts and passions without her consent. He pondered a bit, thinking if he would enjoy her screams as she was being mentally raped.
He could have, he knew, but for some odd reason, he didn't. He kept her secrets her own, although he could have made them his. Instead, he moved his right hand to her neck, rubbing gently, almost massaging her as he tested how strong, or in her case, how weak her skin was against his touch. Finding the point, he applied a pressure point that set her to sleep. Almost immediately, the girl fell asleep again, slouching in his arms. He felt no emotion as he did so, but noted to himself how tender he was in dealing with her. He noted that it was not a good thing. Regarded it was a sign of weakness.
Setting her gently down against the rock, Sessho-maru stood up, his body muscle tense from the long sitting, but he didn't not acknowledge the terse discomfort. Then, in less than a minute, he took on his natural form, transforming from a beautifully handsome, somewhat of a human, to a huge vicious dog-demon. His animal side wanted him to roar, to tell every living species in the vicinity that the Great Sessho-maru was nearby. Instead, he kept his fangs shut as his tail maneuvered with such dexterity to scoop up the sleeping girl. Wrapping her up in his tail, he made sure that she was comfortable, and then lifted his tail daintily in the air, keeping her from any discomfort as he traveled. Then he left this miserable place for his domain.
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