A Self Called Nowhere

I don't want to change your mind
I don't want to think about your mind
They say love is blind
I don't think you're blind

--They Might Be Giants

Time passed and things returned to a startling degree of normality with only a few, superficial changes. This would have been comforting to Kagome had she not seen through it. If she didn't know that everything she did and said, everything, all of it was a lie. It was forced and so false that she truly wondered if she were the only one who realized it because she didn't want to be the only one in on the joke.

Every morning they'd wake, travel for a few hours. Sometimes get in a fight. Sometimes not. Only to go settle down for the night after eating a good meal and as the fire died, they'd all fall asleep one by one to do it all over the next day.

A cyclical routine that once upon a time was comfortable but now...now she was tired of the pretense behind it.

Inuyasha had been told an edited version of what had gone on in his absence and his righteous indignation combined with his implied worry for her made her guilt as free flowing as soda from a fountain. Damn him for being so earnestly concerned for her. It'd be easier if he was just mad at her but no...he was actually worried in the way she'd always wanted him to be.

"My brother could have killed you, Kagome and I'm surprised he didn't. He's never accepted a human's help. You were lucky..." His face had been ashen, paler than she'd ever seen it and when he pulled her into an embrace, she realized he was trembling. "Stupid girl, never do that again."

Advice that was too little, far too late.

She burst into tears, sobbing so violently that he had to support her when her legs gave out. This was all so wrong. He had no idea what really caused those tears and in his innocence he'd tried to console the inconsolable. The only thing that made it even remotely bearable was that she wasn't alone in her guilt. Miroku and Sango shared a measure of blame because they supported the lie for her. She'd watched their faces as they told the story. It really didn't make her feel better that she'd dragged her friends into it. Sometimes she wished she was the only one who knew. To bear it in her own mind and not have to trouble anyone else with it...she wondered if it'd be easier that way. Better.

Through all this mental anguish she tried valiantly to carry on.

The first few weeks had been the hardest. She felt like she was crying most of the time. Seeing the worry in everyone's eyes, she tried to hide it by fighting harder, complaining less when the road seemed to stretch on forever, but at the same time she didn't laugh as much and her patience seemed endless. Patience wasn't something she'd possessed in great quantities, which was why Inuyasha had been 'Sit' so many times in the past. Now she was so patient it was almost as scary as her temper had previously been.

Of all the changes in her, this was the most noticeable and disturbing...to some anyway. No matter how he insulted her, she'd take it without even blinking twice. The word spell she used and abused for four years never left her lips, even when the hanyou tried to provoke her into using it.

Never again, she'd promised herself. Never again would she use that word. She didn't have the right.

Her resolution remained firm and oddly enough, it was a source of deep confusion, anxiety and irritation for her hanyou companion. Inuyasha wasn't a terribly deep thinker and wasn't known for being particularly reflective. Action had always suited him better. If thinking wasn't his specialty, he was even worse when it came to dealing with other people's feelings. He wasn't a sensitive person. He was blunt, sometimes a bit obtuse and overall easily annoyed when the subject would turn to his or, god forbid, someone else's emotions. Even so, he understood something was deeply wrong with his friend. And though he couldn't feel it, he could see what she was trying to do, even if he could never conceive the reason behind it. He knew the little girl's death weighed heavily on her conscience and this one time he'd allowed himself to be gentle.

Looking her right in the eye, he set a hand on her shoulder and spoke softly, "You don't have to be strong, Kagome. Be sad all you want. I'll protect you. I promise..."

She almost hyperventilated trying to keep herself from crying. And just when she thought she'd gotten control of herself he hugged her again, hugged her so fiercely it took her breath away. Hugged her like she'd seen him hug Kikyou and in that moment she was sure that the earth could crumble beneath her feet but it wouldn't matter, because he'd always be there...holding her up. Funny enough, there were no tears, only a deep well of guilt and sorrow that became deeper and deeper, soon to swallow her whole.

She could still remember the way he smelt. The way his arms felt around her and when she'd pressed her face into the crook of his neck, she'd remember how warm his skin had been. Struggling with herself, she closed her eyes and for a moment she almost told him. It was on her lips and she opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Only silence as his embrace tightened fractionally. The pain in her heart at the moment was so bright it'd turn the sky white. So painful, it felt like her heart was being constricted and was slowly losing blood flow, and no matter what she did...the hurt would never go away.

Her chest felt so hollow. Hurt so much. It was like someone was piling rocks on her back. And with each rock, it got harder to breathe and the agony was so great that she thought she'd break, but she didn't. She just kept enduring. She wanted to break. She wanted to be weak...as weak as she had been when she'd played the fool and tried to help a youkai.

This was her best friend. Her best friend in the whole world was holding her and comforting her, and she knew she should tell him. If he was really her friend, he'd understand. And her brittle heart cried, screamed that she should trust him and just be honest but the mistakes of one's soul, reincarnated or not, aren't easily overcome. Sometimes repetition is inevitable. Like Kikyou before her, Kagome couldn't overcome the natural inhibitions of her heart, distrusting the fragile bond between her and her hanyou friend.

And it was so very fragile.

It occurred to her then as now that she had been really stupid. Really, really profoundly stupid--stupid on a level heretofore unknown to man, god and demon and if she'd been able to quantify it she was sure it'd be in a record book somewhere.

If all of this hadn't been difficult enough to deal with, there was another unforeseen complication. Kagome had taken special care not to really think about him in the last few weeks. She didn't even say his name and when it was spoken, everyone couldn't help but notice she'd flinch slightly as if she'd been slapped.

But that wasn't it, there was more.

She could feel him.

It wasn't really a physical thing, it was...well...it went beyond explaining. She just knew it was him and he was near, or perhaps he'd just thought of her. Kagome wasn't entirely sure how it worked or whether it really could work that way, but that's what she felt. Like if he thought of her or vice versa, the other would just know as if by instinct. It was like having your own telephone inside your head that'd ring and ring endlessly. You could never really answer it but you could acknowledge the sound. Sometimes she'd feel hopeful at this feeling, for reasons that were beyond her. Mostly, it was annoying. The lurching sensation she'd feel just before it'd happen was disorienting, and sort of comparable experientially to when she'd feel a shikon shard near...only much more intense. It was like he was plucking a thin cord attached to her senses and it was often so strong, so violently urgent, that she'd almost lose her footing when she felt it.

After a bit, she'd come to anticipate the pull and found herself just stopping and standing in place after feeling it. Her eyes would close and though she tried to convince herself that she was trying not to feel it. To block it out. In truth, when her eyes closed she felt it more deeply as if she were diving into his soul. Just the thought of that feeling was enough to send shivers down her spine.

Kagome knew that something had changed and every day it became more obvious to her. However, this wasn't what bothered her. It was the longing behind the pull that told her he was near that frightened her. There was a sharp pain in her heart that wasn't guilt driven and for the merest of seconds, she'd feel like she couldn't breathe.

She knew what that pain was, or could guess, though she'd never admit to anyone...much less herself.

Even still, as the days passed she'd find herself gazing at the horizon, turned in whatever direction his pull came from. The resistance she put up those first few weeks soon faded and she found herself more often than not, closing her eyes and just feeling. Oftentimes, when she'd wake from this trance she'd find herself several yards away from her friends and she'd have to resist the urge to continue forward.

What the body wanted, the mind resisted and the heart denied. It made her feel sick inside. And so every minute of the day was spent repeating an endless mantra of 'Never Again'.

Turbulent emotional crisis aside, a month and a half had passed uneventfully and thankfully she hadn't seen him...even though he was never far from her thoughts much to her disgust and dismay.

The mere longing she'd experienced earlier in the month had progressed into a deep and nearly uncontrollable fire by this point. It raged within her and set her skin on aflame, crawling underneath her veins, behind her eyes. It was everywhere, in everything and she found herself, night after night, alone in her sleeping bag fighting the urge to follow the pull. She was restless and irritable, which everyone else, for the most part, attributed to the miserable time they had shard hunting.

Not only had they found exactly NO shards, but they'd managed to run into almost every demon in greater Japan that wanted theirs. Worse, it had rained non-stop for the last three days. Yesterday, Sango had slipped in the mud during a fight and had sprained her ankle which had a lump that had swollen to the size of a baseball. Defeated and dejected, they headed for home immediately to wait the rain out and to allow their injuries to heal.

It would be a couple of days before the swelling in Sango's ankle would go down enough for them to see how long it'd take to heal and only the gods knew when it would stop raining. So...Kagome had decided to go home for a bit. Inuyasha had offered to accompany her but feeling like she did right now, she refused. She didn't really needed to be mother-hen-ed, especially by him, the tyrannical despot of all mother hens.

No, what she need was some time alone to think and regroup. She also needed at least one guilt free minute to herself. And to be honest, she was tired of people tip-toeing around her like she'd break.

It was raining lightly as she walked towards the well. The already dark grey sky deepened somberly; day turning to night behind the watchful layer of clouds. Unconsciously, Kagome's steps quickened. She wanted to reach the dry well before dark and before the sky let loose the tempest that had threatened all day.

The trees shifted above, causing errant droplets of water to fall from the leaves they'd rested on. Pittering on her umbrella as she passed underneath, she shivered. The wind had picked up and more droplets fell.

Kagome wasn't sure what it was. Maybe it was the tranquility of the forest or maybe she'd just come to terms with things on her own but as the well came into view she finally felt in her heart that things would be okay. She would be okay. After all, you can't change the past. You can just move forward towards the future.

All the moping she was doing was entirely pointless. She'd made one stupid mistake but in the end nothing had to change. Everyone already acted as if nothing had happened and in a way, didn't that make it so? Anyway, what difference did it make that something HAD?

No difference at all.

She had more important things to worry about. There was the ever present threat of Naraku. Their individual bids for vengeance and the reassembly of the jewel. And...ultimately, what to do with the jewel once complete. She had to concentrate on that. The wish. The one pure wish...the only thing that could rid the world of the accursed jewel once and for all, that was more important.

In the long run, her temporary insanity with Sesshoumaru didn't seem so horribly huge and all consuming. And really, if she thought about it...in the long run...saving Sesshoumaru was in their best interests. He wanted revenge as much as the rest of them.

Who really cared how it came about in the end?

It was as if a great weight had been lifted from her chest at that precise moment. She was free again. Kagome stopped just in front of the well, a small smile forming on her face as she listened to the rain as it hit her umbrella. It pinged softly as it hit the synthetic surface and it was the most beautiful sound in the world to her.

Feeling serene for the first time in weeks, she smiled just a bit wider and slowly drew the umbrella down taking away the boundary between her and the rain. She closed her eyes and lifted her face, smile never wavering, as it began to rain harder. Allowing the rain to soak into her face, her hair, her skin, her clothes, everything. She was reminded of a movie her friend Ayumi had forced her to watch.

It was a little known fact that of all her friends Ayumi was the most obsessed with all things American. In particular, she was a rabid fan of old Hollywood musicals. Everyone teased her about it, Kagome included.

In defense of her current obsession, she'd forced everyone to sit down and watch one. Kagome couldn't quite remember the name of the movie but she did recall that she'd thought it wasn't all THAT bad. Plus, she got to practice her English skills as Ayumi insisted upon watching it in its original language with subtitles.

This day...the way she was feeling...it reminded her of that movie.

Twirling and dancing in the rain, she laughed lightly as she tried to sing the words to an American tune she barely remembered. Wrapped up in her own joy, she barely felt the tug on her soul until it became unbearably painful.

Gasping, she stopped mid-twirl and stumbled towards the well, heart pounding. She leaned against it with one hand as the world around her tipped and reeled. For a moment or two, she thought that her sudden vertigo was temporary. Dancing in the rain like a child had winded her and she hadn't really eaten that much today. Even though something inside told her different.

Kagome shivered, feeling the subtle swipe of youki against her senses.

She stood abruptly, trembling from pain and fear. He was here. She knew it. Her eyes darted between sky and forest searching for him. Why was he doing this? Why was he here...tormenting her?

They'd both been clear at their last meeting. She hadn't told anyone. So he had no reason to do this. No reason at all. Why couldn't he just leave her alone?

Why couldn't it just be over?

A whisper of silk shifted behind her. Shivering, she froze momentarily before turning, half expecting him to be there. A completely silent forest and an empty field greeted her. Confused and a bit afraid, she turned 'round and 'round, scanning the area for the figure she never wanted to see again. Gradually, her panic dissipated as she realized he was nowhere to be found. Kagome sighed in relief, putting a hand to a fluttering heart. He was just messing with her. She couldn't imagine why he would but at least he hadn't come. Really, she wasn't sure what would happen if he did and she really, really didn't want to find out.

Kagome laughed shrilly, gripping the wood of the well. Hair plastered wetly against her cheek, she laughed even harder and though it was meant to sound lighthearted, what came out was a bit harsh and almost hysterical. Opening her eyes, she watched errant droplets of rain as they rolled down her arms to gather and fall from her fingers to the wood beneath them.

Her imagination was apparently working double-time today.

With a short, almost weary, exhalation she straightened and stretched before she prepared to leap into the well. She paused, eyes widening in alarm before her entire body stiffened. A hand wrapped around her neck every so languidly, claws nicking her skin...a thumb snaking out to caress the flesh just behind her ear.

Desire rippled through her and she gasped soundlessly, feeling the ties that bound them strengthen...wrapping around each other like embracing lovers. Her eyes half-lidded, she struggled to control herself. She had to hold firm. She couldn't give in...not again but deep inside...she could hear the bell toll and a traitorous voice in the back of her mind whispering to her that resistance was futile.

Her resolve was weakened when his hand left her throat and trailed down her back instead. Slowly, ever so slowly, he moved from her back to her waist until she could feel him splay his hand and press gently into her stomach. Eyes fluttering, she felt as if she'd jumped from the top of a very high building. Dizzy with sensation, she wasn't sure if he'd pulled her to him or if she'd simply fallen. She realized that maybe it was a bit of both.

He was warm and soft, and she couldn't help but revel in the way his chest felt as it pressed against her back. Leaning into him even more, the more sensible her struggled in vain, whispering to the not listening parts of her that this was very, very wrong. Opening her eyes, she gazed at the trees beyond the well through the rain, trying to ignore the breath on her neck. No. Stop. Don't. The words were listless and half meant, and she closed her eyes in anticipation just before she felt his mouth on her flesh.

The world around became absolutely soundless as the rain poured down relentlessly. Kagome found that she was unable to move, much less think. She stood there, acutely aware of each droplet as it soaked her skin, hair and clothes. Rolling down her face and neck to drip down her cleavage just as his blood had done on that fateful afternoon. She tried to ignore the similarities but couldn't help remembering as his tongue drew circles on her skin with each lingering kiss he placed on her neck and shoulders. Opening her eyes, she blinked away the rain that coated her eyelashes. Lightening flashed, turning the dark forest a bright, haunted purple. Her heart roared like the thunder...in denial...shuddering when she felt the slight scraping of teeth on her flesh. Her hand reached back, searching for something...anything to hold on to or maybe it was to try and stop him, her mind was too muzzy and confused to choose properly.

Fingers brushing against his left shoulder and clenched empty silk -- he stiffened and she gasped.

The ground beneath her feet was mushy, water and mud gushing into her shoes and between her toes as she stood there. More lightening illuminated the sky in bursts, sometimes hitting a bit too close for comfort, followed shortly thereafter by a deafening crack of thunder. It was as if the natural world surrounding her had reminded her that there were some things you didn't touch. Gulping, she let fear overtake her. Immediately, she drew her hand back and tensed against him, the spell on her seemingly broken. And though she didn't move, her body became taut as she strained as far away from him as she could...if only he'd let her go.

His hand was still splayed on her stomach, his fingers digging into her flesh as if to push her back to him.

She told herself she wasn't afraid. She praised herself for resisting the trap she'd so easily fallen into before. And she prayed to whatever benevolent gods were out there that she'd make it out of here alive so that she could be happy about that fact. Kagome took a shaky breath and closed her eyes.

Putting her hand over his and tugging, she turned her head and whispered, "Please...let me go."

His claws dug in harder as a response. She fell back against him with a soundless cry. He'd broken skin. She could feel it. Trembling and trapped against him, she tried not to cry.

"Please," she wailed hoarsely, "This isn't right...just..."

Dragging his claws against her stomach, he murmured into her skin, "I know this." A beat and then... "I should have killed you when I had the chance..."

His eyes were sleepily half-lidded as he growled lowly. It was a dark and dangerous sound, but so soft that she didn't so much hear it as she felt the vibrations through her back. Thrusting his hips slowly, he pressed into her backside as his claws continued to rake across her abdomen, ripping her skirt as he went. Simultaneously, he placed a languid, opened mouth kiss against her neck...licking the rainwater that ran in rivulets down her skin which felt too tight or maybe it was too loose. Whichever it was, she knew she was uncomfortable. She hurt. She...burned. Her powers hummed beneath her flesh as if trying to escape, lifting away from underneath — tangling and intertwining sensually with Sesshoumaru's youki. Struggling to maintain control and losing, her hands dropped to her sides and she pressed back into him, moaning nervously as he tortured her with tongue and teeth.

She had to stop this...she...she...

In a drunken, euphoric haze, she allowed the all consuming fire she'd kept in check up till now loose, engulfing her entire body in bluish-white flames. She squirmed against him. Uncomfortable but too afraid to touch...too afraid to fully embrace what she felt. He sighed. A sound she wouldn't have caught had he not been so close to her ear. She felt him press his face into her hair before he bent her over, their bodies melding so tightly together that they seemed as one. The delirious sensation of his hips pushing against her made her tremble with simultaneous desire and terror.

Never again seemed to be a promise she couldn't keep. And the bell inside tolled more deeply...and she knew that the fire inside...she...would drown here...in him.

She leaned back, her hand finding his thigh and squeezing it. Brushing against his hip, she slipped her hand between their bodies. She could feel the edges of his fundoshi underneath the fine silk of his sashinuki. Wantonly, she traced those edges, kneading the soft flesh above his cock, feeling the soft coils of his pubic hair brush wetly against the fabric that separated her hand from him. She couldn't reach any farther and she was disappointed that all she could do was massage the base of his shaft with her fingers.

He snarled huskily, pushing away her hand. Their bodies rubbed against each other, hands wandering aimlessly as lust overwhelmed any shred of sense either of them had left.

All they knew was want and the never ending, never to be satisfied urge that begged for completion.

Confused and unused to the fastenings on her modern clothes, his claws tore more desperately at her dress. If it wouldn't come off one way, he'd destroy it. Distressed, she quickly stilled his hand and unzipped it herself, letting it fall to the ground around her legs--better for it to be caked with mud than torn to shreds.

She was about to do the same with her underwear but before she could stop him he unceremoniously ripped them off of her. His hand slipped down her thigh to cup her crotch, pressing the tips of his fingers inward lightly--gently massaging her clit. The slight pressure was explosive and her knees went weak She grasped the lip of the well, using it to prop herself up and to push herself flush against him. In the moment, she would have given anything to have turned around to touch him, really touch him... to kiss... to love... but she was still too afraid... too hesitant and distrustful of her own feelings.

Through the rain and the thunder, she could hear him move. His hand had left her thigh and he shifted behind her. When she looked down, she could see his pants had joined her skirt and she shivered with anticipation.

Abruptly, he pushed the head of his penis in with a guiding hand as he prodded her teasingly for a moment before plunging into her... uncaring of the agony he caused. Her knuckles went white as she clutched the side of the well, gritting her teeth against the pain yet reveling in the realization that he was inside her. He pulled out slowly and penetrated her again, harder this time, so hard that her teeth clicked against each other uncomfortably.

And though their auras danced around each other enticingly as they had before, there was no ancient rumbling of magic in the act that followed. His thrusts were hard and angry as he grunted over her, his hand at her hip... claws digging in her flesh as he held her there. Taking her by sheer primal force, he didn't care for her pleasure in the least. He cared only for himself and once he was spent, he left her alone, abused and unsatisfied.

His last words to her before he disappeared were a command to return to this spot on the next new moon. No threat of death or dismemberment, just a simple command. One that he knew she had no more choice to obey than he did.

She gathered her torn dress and ruined underwear and though she wanted to, she didn't cry. Jumping into the well, she thanked the gods her mother hadn't been awake to see her in the state she was in. Kagome cleaned herself up and went to bed, finally crying just like she wanted to. The next few days passed so slowly that she wondered if she was standing still. She'd spent an entire day in bed depressed but unable to talk about it.

Inuyasha had come later on in the evening. He sniffed the air and looked at her quizzically, demanding to know what the hell was wrong with her. For a terrifying moment, she'd thought that perhaps he could smell his brother on her. Maybe her scent had changed because she wasn't a virgin now. A whole host of similar thoughts came to her and she stared at him in wide eyed alarm. And then she burst into tears.

Completely flabbergasted, the hanyou spent the next few minutes trying to explain himself. A difficult feat, some might say impossible. In between his sputtering protests, she tried to tell him everything that happened but she was blubbering so hard that he couldn't make out any intelligible words besides the fact that he wasn't really listening to her to begin with. Frustrated with it all, he knocked her on the head, called her stupid and commanded her to shut up and listen to him which got him his first 'sitting' in weeks.

When all was said and done, she had found out that he'd only sensed her distress. She hadn't had the courage to ask if he could detect whether or not she was still a virgin. Mostly because after she'd calmed down, she had realized how stupid that idea was. Virginity wasn't something you could smell and the rain had taken care of his scent.

This all should have made her felt marginally better. She should have been comforted that her mistake wouldn't be found out, but she wasn't. If anything, it made her depression worse. So bad, in fact, that her mother had gotten tired of her moping and had forced her to call one of her friends to go out. Kagome had been reluctant at first but had eventually relented.

The next day she'd gone out with Ayumi, the only one of her former high school friends she really saw anymore. Eri was too busy with university and Yuka with her fiancé and her plans for their wedding. Ayumi herself was quite busy. She had a full time job as an office lady and a boyfriend to boot, but she, unlike her other friends, somehow always made time for Kagome. The minute Kagome's mother had made the call, she'd hightailed it to the shrine to comfort her anguished friend. It was just like old times.

They'd gone out to lunch after Ayumi had prodded her mercilessly about getting up. Once alone with her friend, she had confessed, weeping the entire time, to the whole messy affair with Sesshoumaru between the salad and the main entree. Kagome had anticipated anger and disgust. Instead, Ayumi had patted her hand and told her she had nothing to be ashamed of.

"That two-timer still hasn't chosen, has he? Really, Kagome, he can't expect you to wait forever!"

And to be perfectly honest, she HAD waited forever. All of her friends had been in normal, healthy adult relationships while she was still stuck in junior high... she hadn't even had her first kiss until that day with him. Pining over Inuyasha had prevented her from experiencing the normal milestones for a girl her age.

She would have waited forever for Inuyasha. She knew it.

Thinking about it, she could see the years stretching out into an eternity where she'd be an old maid... a spinster who lived in a creepy old house at the end of the block with fifty cats.

She couldn't wait forever and she couldn't continue to beat herself up over this.

Ayumi gave her one last piece of sage advice. "You ought to tell him. It's only fair and it's the right thing to do."

Kagome had given her a tearful smile and hugged her, promising to speak to Inuyasha just as soon as she could. Holding it all in had done no good, besides if she explained it all, with Miroku and Sango to back her up, she couldn't fail. He'd see it wasn't her fault and that she hadn't consciously betrayed him.

It had all been a horrible, horrible mistake. A mistake she'd made twice but now was doubly resolved to never make again. She set out for the feudal era determined and when she'd caught up with Inuyasha and the others, she was prepared to lay everything bare. But as they traveled, she was mired by endless inconveniences and never found the right time to tell him. She had hoped to break it to him when they were alone. Better to give him bad news that way than to humiliate him in front of everyone; that was her reasoning anyway. But they never seemed to be alone... ever. Someone or something was always interrupting them. And once she managed to get him alone, he was invariably in a bad mood already... and she didn’t really need a proverb to tell her that giving an irate hanyou bad news when he was already in a pissy mood was a terrible idea.

Naraku had stepped things up recently and with Kikyou's death... well... she had concluded that there really wasn't a good time to tell him anything. So instead, she gave into despair. Ayumi's words banged around in her head endlessly, and after awhile she began to resent them. She resented the whole situation. To make things worse, he was there all the time, watching.

She could feel him all the time now, no matter the distance. It was as if he was taunting her, never allowing her to forget what they'd done or were about to do. So that every minute of every day, all she could think of was the coming of the new moon and what new degradations it'd bring. And the need she felt, the horrible anticipation, was frightening. It was almost like she looked forward to it and it sickened her. She needed to tell Inuyasha. She needed to confess so that he could be mad. So that they could end this and she could draw her strength from him again, because time was running out. And though she told herself never again, she knew... she knew what a lie that was.

Her own magic was needling her from within. The purity of it burning and scraping against the walls, stretching and pushing constantly, wanting to be out and free. It was like a thirst, and though she was surrounded on all sides by water... drowning in it... that thirst was unquenchable.

It made her feel empty and raw. No matter how much she ate, how much she drank, she never felt relief. She'd sleep and sleep, but never feel rested. There was only the need -- the nagging, insistent need. It gave her migraines. Made her joints ache. And just yesterday, she'd succumbed to a high fever, passing out right in the middle of the road. She didn't know how much she could take, but she soon found out when she'd collapsed, forcing the entire party to rush her back to the well.

Exhausted as she was, she had forced herself to argue with Inuyasha. He had gotten her home and refused to leave. More than anything, she just wanted to be alone, miserable and sick. She felt like hell, and the last thing in the world that she wanted was an over-concerned hanyou dancing around underfoot. The concept was quite simple. Problem was, Inuyasha couldn’t seem to grasp it. The only thing that ended the argument and prevented a ‘sitting’ was that her mother had agreed with her, and had told him to come back in three days. He reluctantly complied, leaving her to fall into a fitful sleep.

She awoke a few hours later, soaked in sweat, her heart pounding. Her joints ached worse than ever; hurting so badly that she felt like it might tear her apart. Trembling violently, she gritted her teeth as a wave of intense agony rippled up and down her spine. All of a sudden, she felt incredibly nauseous, bolting out of bed to make a run for the restroom, where she spent the next twenty minutes dry heaving until her stomach cramped. Taking a single, shaky breath, she rested her head on the toilet seat. Still jittery from the pain and the excess adrenalin in her system, she breathed in and out slowly until her stomach finally calmed.

She stood, feeling numb in mind and spirit, and staggered through the darkened hallways of her home. All thought was abruptly bent towards getting to the well, despite the protests of her rational self. She barely remembered how she'd gotten to the well, much less how she'd made the journey to the other side. But somehow, she had... because here she was, sitting next to the feudal era version of the well. The damp grass soaked through the thin shift she wore, making her uncomfortable and cold. She was too exhausted to care, resting her head against the wall as she stared out into space listlessly.

The pain had subsided because she was here. Looking up, she noticed the darkened sky. No moon... new moon.

He was here... She shivered. And he separated from the shadows like shifting moonlight. He raised his hand, beckoning her, and she rose without hesitation, following him into darkness – towards her own damnation.

They walked through the forest until they came upon the clearing from their first encounter, and he took her there just as he had before. He used her, took her roughly and gave her nothing. And when he was done, he left her alone in that clearing. Alone and despairing.

It went on like this for weeks. At first, she had tried to justify to herself to push back the guilt. Tried to rationalize, to lie to herself so that she didn't feel so dirty. Nothing helped, and though she didn't want to... she always came back and let herself be used. And in the end, she never really understood why...

By the time she realized what was happening she was in too deep and any chance for redemption, much less forgiveness, was gone with the wind.

Each night they'd meet, it'd be the same. He always took her from behind and never faced her. And when he was done, he'd leave. Never even looking at her once. It was beyond impersonal. He was using her, and she let him. She. LET. him. What made things even worse was that she realized that in a way, she was using him as much as he was using her. It was sick, wrong and too much to bear, and every single time her fucked her, because that's all that it was, she wept. She'd bury her head in her arms and she'd weep, biting her own flesh to silence the sobs. Let him think it was passion that moved her, that made her tremble. Not that it'd matter to him if it wasn't. He didn't care.

He didn't care.

He didn't care.

He didn't care.

That thought ran through her mind, wreaking havoc on her confidence, stealing any strength she had left. She was betraying Inuyasha, betraying him and herself with someone who didn't care. He didn't care for her. It shouldn't have mattered that he didn't. She shouldn't want him to care. But she did... In her secret heart, she did.

What they were doing would be quite so wrong if he did. If he cared... IF... then it'd almost be like... it would be...

She couldn't express the thought in words, but it was important. She didn't know why, but it was. She wanted. She wanted to be something to somebody. Even if it was him. To be special. To be cherished. But she was nothing, nothing to him, and she’d be worse than nothing to Inuyasha once he found out. No matter how careful they were, they were playing a dangerous game. He'd find out, and all hell would break loose that day, she knew it.

But now, now there was nothing but him and her, and the meadow. Laying her head on her arms, she braced herself against the giant rock she'd rested on seemingly a lifetime ago. She braced herself and waited. He came. Just like clockwork. Always on schedule, never ever late. And just like always, she could hear him as he shifted out of his clothes, and before she knew it, he was behind her. Then inside her.

It was a bitter routine.

He was warm as he leaned over her. Warm but so cold. Strands of his hair escaped as he grunted behind her. He was so demanding in his lovemaking, so forceful that she'd often end up with scrapes and bruises that barely had time to heal in between sessions from the rock she lay herself on for him. Not that he cared.

She watched his hair dance against her arm, so beautiful and pale. So much like someone she actually loved. Sometimes she liked to pretend it was Inuyasha. She'd close her eyes, and if she allowed herself to dream it almost became him, until she opened her eyes. It was the stripped wrist that gave it away. His hair could fall over his shoulder and she could pretend all she wanted, but that wrist... that wrist was a dead giveaway. Those stripes burned her eyes, and she turned away, burying her head in her arms like always. But unlike all the other times, she didn't hide her sorrow. She wept openly, unable to contain it any longer.

Her sobs wouldn't stop him. She knew it, because he didn't care.

Sobbing uncontrollably, she let her tears fall. They were hot and wet, uncomfortable and sticky, sliding down her cheeks like roiling streams of molten lava. Her nose was running. Her throat was dry and hoarse. And she hurt.

She could feel it. It was so cliché, but she could actually feel herself dying inside. And like a drowning man, she'd gotten to the point where she no longer had the will to push for the surface. She had stopped struggling and allowed herself to sink, watching as the sun was blotted out by black water... sinking further and further into the dark, until she was engulfed.

He stopped abruptly, as he always did. No doubt finished with her. He would leave and she'd be alone in her misery again. She waited for the sounds of him dressing, and the whoosh of air that always heralded his departure. In fact, she was anxious for it, humiliated as she was by her break down. But the sounds she was anticipating never came. He didn't leave. In fact, he had barely moved, other than to pull himself out of her. He hovered above her, his chest brushing against her back as he breathed. Her sobs quieted a bit, but never stopped entirely. He moved away then, but he still didn't leave, standing behind her like a demanding watchdog.

This break in routine was a shock to her system. She didn't know what to do. Hesitantly, she glanced behind to look at him. Her breath hitched, but she no longer sobbed. Her tears were silent now, coursing down her face like an engorged river. He was naked as the day he was born, just standing there, glaring at her. His deep golden eyes boring into her caustically, and like acid corroding metal, they burned. She shuddered, slipping down to the ground slowly as her legs gave out from underneath her.

What did he want now?

What more could he take from her? She had nothing. Was nothing!

Overwhelmed, she buried her face in her hands and her sobbing began anew. Losing all sense of self and place, she wept longer and harder than she had in her life. She barely recognized the anguished sounds coming from her throat as her own. She couldn’t take this anymore. But she kept coming back. She couldn’t stay away no matter how much she wanted, couldn’t stop wanting him. Her body remembered the first time. Remembered it and craved the power it gave her, always. But every encounter afterward was increasingly less satisfying. The addictive, drug-like euphoria their joining had once produced was gone. Yet she still came back... betrayed Inuyasha... for this... emptiness?

He tore her hands away.

Holding her wrists in his only hand, he shook her sharply. It only made her sob harder. He shook her again, harder. It changed nothing but the pitch of her sobs as they slid manically from desperation to fear like a slide whistle. He loosened his grip, allowing one of her hands to escape. She immediately hid her face from him with it. The raspy sound of her continual wailing turned harsh and guttural as she choked on her own phlegm. She let out a series of loud, hacking coughs that ripped the lining in her throat terribly. Gulping air, she tried to calm herself but found that she could only manage to taper down the sobbing to a rather pathetic wheeze.

It was embarrassing, being so entirely naked in front of him – vulnerable.

And it occurred to her that he’d taken everything now. There wasn’t a shred of dignity left in her. This didn’t help her stop crying. In fact, it only made it worse. So much worse that she wanted to find a hole to bury herself in. Instead, she was stuck here, gasping like an asthmatic and despite the fact that she was out of tears, she couldn’t stop crying. Damn it.

All she could hope was that he was enjoying the show. Probably was, the bastard, she thought, and that thought was enough for her to reign herself in. She wasn’t exactly composed, but at least she wasn’t hysterical, though she did have some trouble breathing properly. But it was much better than nothing.

Her next self-assigned task was to remove his hand from her other wrist. He’d had his fun. She didn’t want him touching her. Not like he was right now, anyway. His thumb kept brushing the juncture between her thumb and wrist, sending little shivers up and down her spine. It made her want to cry, though she wasn’t sure if it was from sheer desperate frustration or the unwanted desire she felt for him. She was aware he was being almost gentle; the hold he had on her wasn’t bruising as it should have been. And she didn’t like it. Didn’t like it at all. She meant nothing to him. The way he’d treated her up till now proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt. Why complicate things?

Being one who was as contrary as the sun and the moon put together, he denied her the pleasure of a solution to her dilemma. He let go of her hand. But before she could register just what it was he was doing, his hand shot out and thumbed away a tear as it tumbled down her cheek. She gasped and pulled away, her eyes bulging in surprise as her hand reflexively touched the spot his thumb had brushed.

What was he playing at?

Breathing heavily, she stared at him. He didn’t meet her gaze as he drew his hand in. His eyes were draw to his fingers as they tested her teardrops, rubbing them between thumb and forefinger like a scientist before he abruptly ceased all movement, looking for all the world like a movie still frame; eternally paused mid-motion. With a single, dangerously languid movement, he lifted his head up and shifted his intimidating gaze to her.

Kagome was suddenly aware of every little discomfort. Aware of her tear streaked cheeks, all sticky and hot. Her nose was all gummy on the inside which made her whistle with each breath she took. Her feet had fallen asleep awhile back, and so she was trying to fidget them awake and it wasn’t working. Her hair was a mess. Her face was red and puffy from crying. And she hadn’t set her hand back down. She’d just held it there in midair as if she were in a restaurant signaling for a waiter. Slowly, she set it down and tried to think of something else but nothing came. She felt pathetic in front of him, like a movie star caught walking down the red carpet with a tit hanging out; utterly exposed and completely humiliated. Mortified by her own ridiculousness, she bowed her head.

He didn’t like that and she only knew because he grabbed her by her chin and forced her to look up. His thumb dug into her cheek as he held her there for several minutes as he stared at her. She suddenly realized how close his thumb was to her eye as the tip of his claw came into focus. He never did anything that wasn’t premeditated or planned, for the most part. She understood fully that touching her this way had nothing to do with concern, as it would for most normal people. He was threatening her in the subtlest possible way. No words or actions were necessary. Only the implied pain he promised he could and would inflict. Her heart stopped and her gaze shifted from it to him. He looked perfectly placid and untroubled. Even so, she could feel his discontent as it stirred the air around them. More than anything, she wanted to look away, to run away, but she couldn’t because she was far too afraid to move.

With deliberate slowness, he slid his thumb across her cheek, leaving behind a thin, shallow cut. It would be the only warning he’d ever give her and if she failed to heed it... His hand fell away, drawn back in as he licked the blood from the tip of his nail, his eyes never once leaving hers. She wanted so very much to look away, but the look on his face told her that she best look him in the eye or not at all. It didn’t much matter what she wanted one way or the other. All ways were his ways, after all. He would not indulge her emotions. Of this, she was rather bitterly aware.

“Why.”

It was a statement and a question at the same time, a concept so perplexing it took her a few moments to gather her wits about her. Why? Why what? She never voiced the question. Her face, however, spoke volumes. His response was equally nonverbal. He held up his hand, rubbing his fingers together as he gestured at her face. She understood, her hands brushing the skin just underneath her eyes in turn.

He wanted to know...

Her breath caught for a moment as she struggled to find an answer. Truly, it was one of the more surreal moments in her life. And considering just how many moments of surreality she’d experienced, that was saying a lot.

“Why?” he asked again, and though his voice was colorless, she could tell he was annoyed at having to repeat himself.

She jumped, his tone startling the answer out of her. “B-because, I’m ashamed,” she whispered hoarsely, unable to think of a quick lie good enough to fool him.

His eyes narrowed briefly and for a moment she was sure he was going to kill her. But he didn’t. He just looked away and nodded, grunting softly in understanding. Yes, shame was a gift no one wanted but everyone seemed to have in abundance, even him. She noticed his thumb and forefinger hadn’t stopped moving. He was looking away into the distance. Cold and immovable like a stone, but his fingers never stopped moving. It was fascinating.

“Does it help?”

She’d heard his voice but not the question as she was too absorbed in watching his fingers. “Hmm, what?”

This time he didn’t seem annoyed. His head was cocked as he stared at her inquiringly. She imagined that maybe he was trying to figure her out, which was ridiculous but he certainly looked like that was just what he was trying to do. His fingers stopped moving.

“Crying. Does it help?”

She snorted quietly, a small, tired smirk finding its way to her lips. What a thing for him to ask. “No, not really.”

They spent an eternity under the moonlight just looking at each other as they had so often on the battlefield – combatants on their separate sides of the field. Cut off from one another by a yawning chasm of their own making. Waiting quietly in the dark, they could feel the chasm closing, and like drifting continents, they were destined to collide into each other. And the real question was which of them would break first.

“Then what’s the point.”

It wasn’t a question that required an answer – it wasn’t a question at all. But she answered it anyway. “Because I don’t know what else to do...”

Ah, there was helplessness there and immeasurable truth. She could feel tears pricking the corners of her eyes but no matter how hard she tried she could not stop them. Unlike her tears earlier, these came in silent, gentle waves, coursing hotly down her cheek. She made no move to stop them. Her lip trembled as she watched him stare at her with empty dispassion. But the anticipated remark about the weakness of humans never came. A strange light entered his eyes as an emotion neither dared name flickered through them. She shivered, wrapping her arms lightly around her, even though the night wasn’t cold at all.

He leaned in, his hand lifting ever so slowly to close the distance between them. She held her breath as he touched her cheek. His fingers grazed her jawbone, moving through her tears and streaking them across her skin like invisible tribal war-paint. He moved upwards, his forefinger tracing over the edge of her ear before burying his hand in her hair. The action was so unconsciously erotic that she hadn’t even realized she’d leaned in to accommodate him. Pulling back slightly, she grabbed his wrist and tried to pry it off.

‘Tried’ being the operative word.

Her fingers could barely even curl around his entire wrist, while his had engulfed hers entirely. It was a sobering illustration of the difference between them; his strength and her weakness. Despite knowing this, she didn’t let his wrist go. If anything, she tightened her hold, determined to let him know that she wouldn’t allow him to play with her, threats or no threats. He had no right.

The message was either not received or ignored entirely. She could feel his claws scraping her scalp a bit as he dug further into her hair, pulling her forward by the back of her head. Panicking, she dug her fingernails into his skin, knowing they couldn’t do anything. It was instinct, pure instinct that drove her to it. He didn’t notice as he leaned in. She felt his mouth on her neck and closed her eyes, willing herself to not feel any gratification, to no avail. Her lips had gone dry. Any air in her lungs had escaped, still she breathed out – a single, uninterrupted gasp of pleasure. She let go of his wrist, her hand dropping to cover her heart.

And she realized then that this was his strange way of comforting her. He knew nothing else. No words. No empty gestures. He knew how to bring pleasure if he so desired, and he hadn’t up until now... but now, now he would give this gift to her.

She whispered his name breathily, her entire body tensing in anticipation just thinking of it.

He breathed in deeply and pulled away. His eyes had turned a deep bronze and she swore she could see entire galaxies in them as he looked down on her – waiting – for a sign or a signal, she couldn’t guess. But those eyes, those eyes were as old and ageless as the stars. How many years had passed before them... and what had they seen? She would never ask and he would never tell, because they both knew he’d seen too much.

She suddenly pitied him – for having lived so long, for being jaded by those years. He was a stone in the desert, gradually being worn away by the wind and the sand. Heart beating heavily in her chest, she hesitantly reached out a hand, fingers uncurling as she touched his cheek. Splaying outward, she smoothed his skin, lightly tracing his neck and collarbone before her hand came to rest on his chest. Palm pressing into his flesh so that she could feel the heart beating underneath.

Hand on her heart, hand on his.

She thought that maybe it wasn’t anyone’s fault they were here. Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe guilt and shame didn’t really enter into this. There was just this... him and her and the starlit sky, and somehow it’d all be okay. And then she kissed him; her lips just brushing the side of his mouth shyly. He didn’t return it at first. She couldn’t know it wasn’t something he did regularly. She assumed, but she was wrong, about a great many things. But in the end he did return her kiss. Returned it tenfold. He surged forward, overwhelming her in his ardor for her. She went limp, hands clutching at his shoulders to ground herself.

He stiffened, as he always did, when anyone or anything came near his ruined shoulder. But she didn’t notice and because she didn’t the moment passed quietly. He pulled her to him and wrapping her legs around his waist and lifting her up, he pressed her against the stone they’d abandoned. Guiding her hands around his neck, he let her go and guided himself back into her. Making love to her the way his people had traditionally done for thousands of years, standing up.

She shuddered as he entered her. And that feeling she always had with him, like she was drowning, faded. As if someone had finally thrown her an inner-tube and she was grasping onto it; holding onto it for dear life as he thrust into her languidly, his body rolling over her -- pushing in and pulling out with delirious slowness. His rhythm was regularly irregular as he continually sought out places inside her that brought the most pleasure to them both without sending them over that proverbial edge. He was so careful with her, so attentive, that she couldn’t help but feel a rush of desperate gratefulness, as if he were the owner of that life preserver... as if he’d thrown it himself and was dragging her into shore.

All the guilt and recrimination was washed away, and for a moment, just one sweet moment, she felt treasured. Loved. As if she mattered to him in some amorphous way. It was ridiculous and she knew it, but with each thrust that feeling became harder and harder to hold at bay. The exquisite pleasure of having him inside her, having that fire inside quenched, and the strange sense that her world had been turned on its heel, all merged and then she saw stars behind her closed eyes, and nothing much else mattered. Warmth overwhelmed her, her ki and his youki combining so entirely, so explosively that the owners of those powers nearly blacked out from the shock of it.

A corona of light had surrounded them. It shimmered in the moonlight, twisting around them like a living fireworks display. And behind her eyes, into the deeper well where her normal vision couldn’t go, the quivering physical pleasure she felt was reflected in the endless lapping waves of purifying fire which was sucked in and out in sensuous rhythm. And in-between the bright blue pulse points of purity were sparks of dark greenish-gold. Those sparks violently collided with the pulsing waves, disrupting the tide like jutting spires of rock, forcing the sea to collide with them.

In the moment, she knew that though the rock might seem so strong and immovable, the sea would eventually wear it down more efficiently than any force in the world. And after a time it did. Until both pulsing streams of fire and light died down and intertwined like a pair of spent lovers.

In the aftermath, once whatever spell that had woven itself around them slunk away, they lay there frozen in the very image of those self same interlocked lovers. Lovers they were not. Kagome knew this, yet she couldn’t help but think that it might not be so bad if they were. Silly. Childish. Hopeless. And helpless, because once she thought it she couldn’t un-think it and it stuck there like a particularly unwanted guest that just wouldn’t take the obvious hint to leave already! It was during this tumultuous bout of thinking too much that she realized something very important.

She hadn’t really noticed while they were “making love”, because, well, she’d been sort of occupied at the time, but it seemed that they were no longer on solid ground. A quick glance to the side confirmed this information. Panic hadn’t really had time enough to settle in yet. In fact, her thoughts at this precise moment were something akin to: “Huh. No wonder. The rock hadn’t gotten more comfortable, we were just floating. Neat...”

Her eyes widened and her hands tightened around Sesshoumaru’s neck momentarily, until she realized that they weren’t really floating. Not anymore, anyway. They were descending, albeit very slowly, to the ground. Plus, Sesshoumaru didn’t seem all that worried and if he wasn’t worried, then she’d be damned if she would be. She relaxed, shifting her gaze to the sky just over his shoulder. His hair fluttered lightly behind him, looking like delicate strands of webbing which were connecting the stars like not-so-imaginary lines of silver thread. She smiled at the thought. Even wondered what he’d think if she told him, not that she ever would. He shifted above her, lips brushing lightly against her skin. His head was resting against hers, his temple just touching cheekbone, and every time he breathed, it sent a shiver up her spine as it tickled the sensitive hairs on her neck. She sighed, closed her eyes and nuzzled his cheek with her own. Where was this going? What were they doing? She looked to the stars for an answer, as she always had but they said nothing, just blinked mutely with unhelpful brightness.

And suddenly there was earth beneath her feet and a rock pressed into her back. The world was a familiar place again. An unhappy place, as he whispered a thought he’d voiced many, many moons ago: “I should’ve killed you...”

The dream they just made was over. She knew it now because everything hurt. Her jaw clicked as she fought not to cry. She’d done enough of that lately. Her fingers dug into the thick flesh just below his neck, eyes hardening.

“And I should have left you to die. Get off me.”

She didn’t even have to push him and she had to admit she was a bit disappointed. She really wanted to push him. Hard. Dimly, she was a bit surprised he hadn’t gone ballistic because she ordered him. Perhaps he just dismissed it because he wanted to get off of her as much as she wanted him off of her. There was a fleeting feeling of rejection. That after everything they’d felt only moments before, he could say something like that. She knew he felt it. He had to.

Frustrated and hurt, she gathered up her clothing and redressed as quickly as she could. She wanted to leave him before she failed to resist the suicidal urge to claw his eyes out. Buttoning her now very torn sweater up, she glanced behind her and noticed he hadn’t finished dressing yet. He always finished dressing first. No matter how hard she tried, he’d always beaten her. Dressing quickly enough to leave before she even peeled herself off the ground or the rock or whatever other uncomfortable surface he’d pushed her down into while fucking her.

She watched him fumble with his obi no less than a dozen times with a smug kind of satisfaction. But after the thirteenth time, it sort of lost its appeal. Inhaling deeply in total resignation, she reluctantly walked over to him and smacked his hand away. A long, long time ago, she might have felt sorry for him. It was unusually cruel of her to take delight in the difficulties of others, especially considering the reason he was having problems with tying his own sash was sort of her fault. But right now all she could feel was an unreasonable annoyance with him. She was too tired to hate him, mild irritation would have to do.

Without looking him in the eyes, she carefully smoothed down the front of his kosode, making sure that the collar wasn’t uneven or overlapping his juban. Satisfied, she looped his obi around his waist and tied it neatly. Her bow wasn’t quite as complicated as the one he normally wore, but it’d do. She stepped back and surveyed her work. Yes, it’d do. She looked up at him and he looked down at her, and there were a few seconds where she almost fooled herself into thinking he was a real person; with feelings and everything.

Kagome snorted silently, shook her head and left. They were done here and she really had nothing more to say to him -- didn’t want to see him, not until next month, next week, tomorrow... it didn’t matter when really, because she knew he would disrupt her life, sooner than she’d like. It had been nothing but disruption upon disruption from the moment he barged into the village so many months before. But right now, right now she needed to be away from him. Far away. About five hundred years away would do.

This was how she found herself standing at the lip of the well. Looking down into the gaping black hole, there was a nasty part of her that sort of hoped it suddenly stopped working. Maybe she’d smash her head on a rock, and whether she ended up unconscious or dead didn’t really matter at this point. Either way she’d get a long, dark vacation from the world.

“Don’t be stupid, Kagome,” she admonished herself. She’d promised not to think that way anymore. Resolved, she inhaled deeply to center herself, closing her eyes as she exhaled slowly. She could do this. Opening her eyes she prepared to jump, only to be tugged back. It was sort of a gentle tug. A warning tug. A tug that said: Hey! I don’t think you should be doing that.

There was a panicky moment where she almost thought it might be Inuyasha and she began to immediately come up with a list of excuses for whatever accusations he might throw at her. But then a darker suspicion entered her mind. Looking at the hand at her wrist, she bit back a scream of pure, unadulterated aggravation.

“Let go.”

It occurred to her that she’d ordered him around no less than three times this evening and most likely this wasn’t a particularly bright thing to do. He showed her what he thought of her latest request by pulling her back gently and setting her on the ground. He kept her pinned securely to his side as he gazed down into the well. Kagome wasn’t sure how she ought to react. On one hand, she was annoyed that he’d obviously followed her and that he continually treated her like an object, rather than a person. On the other hand, it was almost nice of him to look out for her because that was sort of what he was doing, in his own odd way.

He turned to her then, pointedly looking from the well to her; his complete silence demanding an answer. So he did have a caring bone in his body.

She crossed her arms, initially unwilling to answer him. But Sesshoumaru was a patient demon and both of them knew who’d be able to wait longer. In a test of wills, he’d always win. Sighing and rolling her eyes, she looked away and gave him the answer to his nonverbal question.

“It’s a portal.”

Eyebrows raised minutely, his head titled subtlety in disbelief. She really wanted to point out that he was a demon. A being that existed in a world of magic. Who the hell was he to question whether or not a dank and empty well was a magic portal to another world?! Okay, even in her head that sounded crazy but if she really thought about it, it did make an absurd kind of sense. Thankfully, she kept the thought to herself and nearly busted her brain for a coherent, completely not crazy response. How to answer a question without bringing up a whole series of extra questions?

She crossed her arms. At this point, she really just wanted to go home and she didn’t much care if he killed her for being disrespectful. “Listen, I don’t care if you believe me or not. That well,” she said with quiet impatience, pointing to it for emphasis, “is a portal. It brought me here and takes me home. So, do you mind...?” She gestured absently, hoping he got the hint that she’d like him to not only move but let her go as well.

He did neither. Instead, he jumped up onto the lip of the well, still holding her in his only arm. For a brief, insane moment, she was convinced that maybe he intended to jump down with her. Maybe he wanted to see the future for himself and then she remembered that she really hadn’t mentioned the future part of the portal, and he didn’t seem too keen on jumping in either. He didn’t seem inclined to do anything but hold onto her like a prize trophy while staring into the well distrustfully.

Just as she was about to explode, he did something unexpected – as unexpected as that very first kiss he’d stolen. He looked her deeply in the eyes and let her go. He stepped down, his eyes never leaving hers. Gracefully, he traced her cheeks with his fingertips, letting them trail down her neck and then her arm. His fingernails lightly brushed the thin flesh of her wrist just before he took his hand in hers.

Her breath caught in her throat as a fire lit behind his eyes, making the dim copper tones of his iris glow a bright, burnished gold. That look commanded her to come back to him. That look was not to be disobeyed. She nodded mutely as her fingers intertwined with his. They squeezed each other’s hand, as if it sealed some kind of compact between them. And then slowly – ever so slowly – their hands drifted apart. Palms slipping against each other as she pushed herself off the edge of the well, eyes locked on his as she fell and that old, blue magic surrounded her. Kagome closed her eyes and when the world came back, she stared at the bleak ceiling of the well house, hand to her heart while she wondered what she’d gotten herself into.

Her eyes narrowed contemplatively as she willed her heart to stop beating so fast. Things had just gotten more complicated...

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Translations


Fundoshi: Japanese style undies.
Juban: A garment worn under a kosode.
Kosode: A type of kimono, usually worn by men.
Sashinuki: The type of hakama (pants) Sesshoumaru wears. Unlike regular hakama, that typically hang straight down, this type has a tie near the ankle which causes the fabric to blouse -- giving sashinuki its characteristic pouffy look. This type of hakama were generally worn by men of high rank, usually nobles.

For more helpful info on Japanese attire (specifically for men), here's a helpful link! Just paste it into your browser and read away!

http://www.sengokudaimyo.com/garb/garb.html

Also, thanks to all my reviewers, who stick with me despite the fact that I'm not all that regular with the updating. Thanks for your patience with my lazy ass!