Masquerade

Author’s Note:


Shoo beddak? Alguna necesidad especial?


And, at the end of this chapter, is the most longest author’s explanation Ev-ah!

Chapter Nineteen- And as the Wind Pulls the Clouds Across the Moon


All night Kagome stayed nestled in the bend of the river, thinking.

She didn’t get any sleep, true, but it was worth it. One thing that stayed with her the entire time was her anger. The same twisting, pulling, heady anger that made her stomach knot and her fists clench and her head pound. In some odd attempt to cool the fire raging inside she had yanked her sandals and socks off, opting to dangle her feet in the water.

The only thing it had done was given her slowly a mounting fear she was going to get bitten.

Did that stop her?

…

Did it ever?

Slowly she opened her eyes, focusing her attention on stomping down the rage welling in her mind.

She pictured the fury in her mind as a large, rolling storm. And, in her mind, she could shove all of the massive ashy clouds into a big jar. She’d twist the lid closed – five times to the right to open it, seven times to the left to close it – then push the jar into a small box. She’d keep the box closed with a single piece of clear tape and a long silver ribbon. Once the ribbon was tied into a perfect bow (over, under, tighten, loop, cross, under, pull, tighten) she’d place the box in the corner of her small hut and ignore the crumbled ghost, then exit and let her thoughts drift away from the lone hut and the shattered sheath.

It still wasn’t quite dawn, though the sun was peeking over the horizon, but it wasn’t quite night, though the moon was still present.

In her mind, she further banished the anger from her emotions. A single match appeared in her hypothetical hand, bright and burning. She looked down at the tiny hut, saw the shadow of the ghost and the shadow of her present, and then tossed the match into a hole on the thatched roof. The ghost waited till the match hit the ground then shifted and looked up at ‘Kagome’ through the same hole. Their eyes met – perfect brown, perfect blue – and she smiled. It was the kind of smile that made Kagome - the real Kagome - sigh in both awe and envy.

The hut went up in burning flame, the ribbon, tape and box melted, the jar blackened and the lid peeled away from the opening of the glass, letting the once massive clouds, now wispy ounces of fog, travel over the room and cover the lower half of the ghost. The ghost kept her gaze on Kagome, “It is as I taught you, right little one?”

“Of course, sensei.”

Sesshoumaru was unaccustomed to many, many things.

Humans, puppets, children, flowers, and the list continued.

Somewhere between perfection and candles worry nestled itself. Worry, was something he was unaccustomed to. He never had to worry about himself, he never had to worry about his lands, he never had to worry about Tokijin not being sharp enough, and he never had to worry about loosing his reign over the Western domain. There was little else in his life except her, so therefore she was the only logical thing left to worry about. He didn’t necessarily deny this fact - he didn’t even deny the recent emotional distraction she’d caused him - he just really didn’t care enough to argue with himself over it.

He was attracted to her, okay.

Going off and finding some dirty whore to ‘relieve his stresses on’ would do nothing but make him nauseated.

He respected her, sure.

It wasn’t even all that unwilling; he found her courage and ability to fight – for a human woman – especially amiable.

There were other reasons he could take the time to list, but it didn’t really matter. He could live without her; he could spend numerous years with her. She was just there. And, in some odd, cosmic joke, it was enough for him. Because it was enough he was worried. About her. Her. He’d never really denied it, but saying it aloud – in his head – still helped. He was worried. And he hoped she was happy. With him, maybe.

Watching the sunrise, watching how the colors molded and lightened and darkened and grew, had once been a pleasurable experience for Kagome. Now though, she was much to preoccupied and much to old for such things. So instead, while her eyes gazed at the sunrise, she thought of other things that might make her happy.

Shippou made her happy.

Oden made her happy.

Puppies made her-

Cringe.

When did that happen?

Obviously some psychotic, Sybil part of her mind was trying to attach anything and everything she could think of even the least bit related to him together. Kagome stood up and turned toward the sunrise she used to find so entrancing pensively. It served her right, falling into some weird, depressing emotional attachment with the demon lord. She’d had many evil thoughts in the past concerning many things. Kikyou. She’d been the receiver of numerous (most) of Kagome’s evil thoughts. Inuyasha, too. So-

It was defensible, she supposed.

And then another thing hit her. Inuyasha.

When was the last time she thought about him?

Why, when she was fifteen, she offered at least several hours a day of thought to him. When she was-

“You’re doing it again.”

Kagome’s eyes widened at the voice, but she kept her body still. “Doing what?”

“Devoting your thought to things of the past. Attempting to live in the past. Avoiding the present dilemma(s). You choose. You’ve accomplished all of them in the past few moments.”

“How can you tell?”

He stepped up next to her, though she didn’t look at him. “I’m not sure.”

Kagome looked down at her ruined hakama, ignoring the way a silken strand of hair tickled her arm and his sleeve brushed her hand. I’m missing a sleeve, too, aren’t I? “Are we leaving now?” She asked, completely side-stepping any conversation that might lead to it.

Sesshoumaru glanced at her, “Do you plan to go like that?”

Kagome sighed, “It’s the only priestess garb I have.”

Sesshoumaru nodded, “Then we will have to stop at a town.” The disgust was expertly hidden in the various folds of his deep voice, but Kagome could hear it when he spoke of stopping in a human town.

“You don’t have to come with me,” She offered, studying her bare legs sadly. He’d managed to cut the majority of both legs of the red pants off, how he’d done it, Kagome would never know.

“Tensaiga.”

“What?”

“The blade can cut through the fabric, but not your flesh.”

Why did he…? “How come you didn’t pull Tokijin?”

He down at her, trying not to scoff. “I was hardly feeling threatened.” Oops.

Kagome glared, not really feeling mad or annoyed. She was actually silently amazed at how much taller he was than her. To most humans – both men and woman – she was rather elevated. At least, for the Japanese. But standing next to Sesshoumaru she felt dwarfed, something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Weird.

He stared back at her impassively, noticing different things. How her hair hung unevenly against the small of her covered back, how that minor scratch from earlier was now a thin scab on her jaw line. It’s going to scar, he mused.

“I don’t care.” She said suddenly, startling him.

“What?” He asked, in a perfectly expressionless reenactment of Kagome’s previous confusion.

“Nothing.” She said, walking toward the forest.

Sesshoumaru watched her go, then looked back at the sunrise. So we’re just going to ignore it, then. He followed after her, releasing his worry.

After several different analyses, after looking at it in several different perspectives, Kagome had finally figured it out.

Yes, miraculously, she had discovered the definition to Sesshoumaru’s character. And that was-

Recalcitrant (adj.)-

Marked by stubborn resistance to and defiance of authority or guidance

(n.)-

A recalcitrant person.

-Because, though he had a very complex, unique character just like everyone else, he was recalcitrant to show it.

Why she bothered to notice such things was simple. It was either scrutinize his character or scrutinize-

Her eyes traveled up to the being in front of her, moving from the hypnotizing sway of his hair, to the glittering armor on his shoulder (When did he get that fixed?) until it rested on the back of his head.

-him. Naked. In explicit detail.

Of course it was all in her head, and she had no right and no reason to think such thoughts, but lately, as the weight of the Shikon hanging around her neck grew heavier and the blanket of the Northern lord’s pull settled over Japan, such thoughts had helped. For a short time, she could breathe – even if it was a jagged, displeased breath - and forget about all the unfinished ‘business’ she was being yanked in all different directions to do.

Shikon no Tama first, Northern Lands second, Masao and Leiko third, Inuyasha and Kikyou fourth, Shippou fifth, Sango and Miroku sixth, Kaede seventh, Kouga and Ayame eighth, and somewhere far, far down the line was Kagome.

Perhaps she was being selfish, or maybe she was just growing up, but it was a process she was finally able to embrace, and one that had seemed to grow on her as time passed. She was being selfish in wanting to be first on her personal list of importance and she was being mature by feeling inexplicably and physically drawn to Sesshoumaru. Okay so maybe it wasn’t inexplicable, but that wasn’t the point…

Kagome sighed and bowed her head, her eyes turning to study the field on her right. In some way her normal, human attraction kept her grounded, reminded her she wasn’t the ‘Perfect Shikon Miko’. Reminded her that somewhere, buried beneath the folds of her priestess robes and the presence of her reputation she was Kagome.

“You’ve been doing that a lot, too.”

She turned her eyes to the road, staring at Sesshoumaru’s feet. “I know I’m going to regret this, but what?”

“Thinking.” He answered simply, not phrasing it as an insult, just-

“Shut-up.” She returned, mentally running through her stages of shutting out the anger.



Sesshoumaru: *is bored*

Kagome: *doesn’t care*

And, this chapter is basically for the development of Kagome’s character. You will all deal with out the complete and utter hilarity, right? My writing minus the humor is okay too, right?

Er, by the way, I’m totally writing a one-shot with the thing where Kagome’s stuffing her anger away in her mind in it. Because I love that paragraph(s)!

Now, I want you to read this mostly-serious chapter with reverence, for it is crucial to see how she rids herself of the ghost (Kikyou) and tries to push away the duty that has for so long ruled her life. Kagome wishes to embrace (Sesshoumaru) life and start the day with a warm, cheery (shower. With Sesshoumaru) smile like she did when she was fifteen (minus the virginity)! Yes, well, ze plot is developing! Yay (boo)!


Kagome: I still think I should’ve won the sword fight.

Sesshoumaru: You couldn’t have. Even if I trained you myself.

Author: Hmm… perhaps Sesshoumaru should do such a thing.

Kagome: What? Tutor me with a sword?

Sesshoumaru: … No, I’ll let that one go. It was just too easy.