Masquerade

Author’s Note:

Dear Helena,

I am a terrible, horrible, no good role model. But because you’ve decided to take the leap of faith I will be especially moral for you.

…

I’m done. No more moral.

Leave more reviews,

Sada.

(P.S. Notice the period? It makes me seem more mysterious. I heart you, too, by the way.)

Chapter Twenty-Six – Vault

Sesshoumaru is confused.

His back is to the cool sand under the mixed and wrinkled clothes, his hair is pulled tightly at the left side of his head where the miko lies on it, his arms and legs and knees and back and heart are sore, and his senses burn with the salt and the knowledge. His back is to the cool sand under the mixed and wrinkled clothes, and his head is somewhere far out in the ocean, getting tossed around merrily in the cause of the priestess’ almost death.

Sesshoumaru doesn’t bother to wake the miko snuggled to his side, growing to his missing arm, but he knows he probably should.

It was so, so wrong. Him and her, her and him, they, we. It was wrong and immoral and something he didn’t want so badly, he needed it.

The miko’s head shifted at his side and she rolled away from, pulling tighter at the hair she was sleeping on.

Sesshoumaru’s head rolled back a little, digging into the sand under whoever’s haori he was lying on.

However they approached it, however they went about their choices or worked out their differences or lived together, they could never be.

Sesshoumaru tilted his head to the left, staring at the priestess while she wrapped a fist in his silver locks.

She was human. She was priestess. She was Kagome and protector and weak and human and going to die.

He wasn’t.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

The stub of his left arm cramped in pain, so he rubbed it with his right, still watching the woman.

His father – the stupid bastard – had found himself a normal wench he could “love” and bed and have babies with. The Inu no Taisho was able to be fucking happy with the pathetic bitch and her half-breed son. Yes, Izayoi would age and die, but Inuyasha would still carry part of the general and part of the hime. Sesshoumaru fucking hated him. All of them.

But he was so jealous.

He wanted to have little half-breeds with the miko. He wanted her to live forever, or maybe he would give up his immortality, but-…

But he couldn’t.

She was going to die. He was going to live.

And they lived happily ever after.

Sesshoumaru – suddenly inexplicably angry – rolled the priestess off his hair and stood up. He looked down at the ground and searched for something to wear, but she was sleeping on his Mokomoko-sama and over his outer shirt and in his kosode and beneath his mind so all he could dig up were his stained pants. He blinked and searched for his sash, but it was wrapped around her waist over the silk kosode five times loosely, grains of sand trapped in the individual creases.

He glared at her back – how dare she sleep peacefully – and strode away, down the beach, up the rock, over the stream, into the tide.

She couldn’t get pregnant, she was going to age and die, she slept regularly, she ate frequently, she was generally weak, and her temper was far from desirable.

But he still did. Desire her, that is.

She wasn’t going to magically turn demon; she was still human under the tendrils of her miko power, she wasn’t a kami or a tenchi or able to be ‘marked’, as she put it.

Like I was really going to bite into her like some savage beast.

No, she was simply Kagome. And he hated her for it.

Yes, he hated her so much – who and what she was, how dare she be human and mortal – he needed her.

“I’ll never leave you, Sesshoumaru-sama.”

Liar.

Sesshoumaru looked down at his bare feet, buried and dug up in the sea, and listened to the motion of the tide.

He remembers pushing and pulling to the beats and shifts of the waves while Kagome writhed and giggled under him, a strand of silver hair twined around her finger, a string of regrets wrapped around her mind.

He knows someday Inuyasha will find them; Sesshoumaru could almost feel the mutt growing closer. And he hopes the hanyou discovers Kagome and himself in an incriminating position.

Against that tree, for instance.

But, back to matters at hand-

Sesshoumaru is confused.

By Kagome, of course.

He remembers exactly the moment he was tossed into such a state, too. Right after they’d found the small, surprisingly deep stream – “Faster, please…” – but before she’d fallen into the tall bush and he’d helped her out – “Sesshoumaru-sama, we just did this-… oh, I- I don’t-… okay… but, faster.” – she’d asked a question. (“Sesshoumaru-sama… after the jewel and the Northern Lord and- and everything… what will we do?”) No, that hadn’t been the question. It had been under that tall tree, when the sun was starting to set and her hair had burned a dark blue. She’d had a small scrape on the side of her neck from one of his claws and-

“Do you love me?”

Ah, yes. That had been the one.

At the time, he’d answered-

“I do not know.”

But, what he really meant was-

“I do not care.”

Because at twilight, when she was happily ignoring the pain in her chest and the stinging of her eyes, he didn’t care. Maybe, if she’d asked him earlier, he’d have given her an answer, or if she’ll ask him in the morning, he might give her an answer.

Of course, he doesn’t know what that answer will be or might’ve been. He has no idea how to describe what it is that wraps around his soul, leashes the animal he is, ties his mind, steals his words, wipes his breath, no, no he doesn’t know.

And he doesn’t care to describe it, either.

When he gets back, comfortable in his world that needs no adjectives and has only her, she’s gone.

She’s gone.

Sesshoumaru studied the empty mass of clothing – there are no red hakama, no dusty haori – incomprehensibly. She’ll be back, of course. There was no one else on this island. She wasn’t hurt or kidnapped or taken or-

Why, then, do you worry?

Sesshoumaru shook his head and picked up his kosode, which was tossed to the side. He shakes it out with his one hand and throws it over his shoulders, follows the path of his clothing leading into the forest, picks up his sash, his outer coat, Kagome’s hair tie, her bow, an arrow, her katana, Tensaiga, Tokijin, his armor-

Something is wrong, you buffoon.

His armor settles on his shoulders, and his heart beats angrily in his chest.

A scream. He’d heard a scream. But it was the same scream from so long…

(Sesshoumaru hung back a couple seconds, surveying the campground calmly. A minute ago he had heard the sound of a woman’s screaming, though it was pitched at a frequency he was sure humans were unable to reach. It was short and didn’t seem to convey any particular emotion, but he remained vigilant.

“Sesshoumaru-sama?” A voice said from a few feet behind him.

His head turned as he regarded the miko from the corner of his eye. She was watching him with a small, strange, slightly lopsided smile. “I heard it too. But Masao seems oblivious.”)

Yes! From that day! It’d been identical.

At the time, he’d figured it had merely been some form of-

Void. Do you feel it?

He sucked in a breath, picking up her bow and almost-empty quiver to take with him, and then he was nothing but wind.

Her scent was quickly disappearing. Like it was being sucked up and-

Tensaiga pulsed, and his brows furrowed. Something very, very wrong was happening. Half way over the island, he turned sharply right, and went faster.

Finally the two tallest points jumped from the horizon. Sesshoumaru studied the mountains and felt the purity almost overtake him, felt the lingering traces of Kagome on his skin pulsate. The scent of her – almost warm in his self-induced claustrophobia – tightened and strengthened. Forcibly, Sesshoumaru held the breath in his lungs for a long moment, tasting her, before he picked up on her path again. He bounded upward on one of the giants, shocked at how far the priestess’ assailants had gotten in such a short time.

Eventually, many backs of pure-white soldiers met him, and he drew Tokijin. He landed in front of them – 20, 25 at the most – and they looked up at him blankly. Their eyes, all of them, were pure black. Between two of them, in the middle of the procession, hung Kagome. She was out cold and sloppily dressed and Sesshoumaru almost snarled. The guards up front moved together, blocking his vision of the priestess, and Sesshoumaru’s hand fell easily into proper position on Tokijin’s hilt.

The guards raised naginatas and katanas-

And they hit the ground one by one, until finally a single soldier stood.

Sesshoumaru eyed the survivor amusedly, checked to make sure Kagome’s prone body was draped safely over a rock close by, and then shifted Tokijin. Yes, the soldier was as good as-

Gone?

Sesshoumaru blinked and whirled around, but the soldier thing was gone. And Kagome was waking up. And Tokijin slid easily back in his sash, right next to Ten-

“Nngh-…” Kagome sat up slowly before toppling off the rock, “Ow!”

Sesshoumaru turned to her, having forgotten for a moment she was there.

Kagome rubbed her head and stood up, yanking her haori properly around her torso and hiking the waist of her hakama up. She ran a shaky hand through her hair and looked up, knowing he would be in front of her. Sesshoumaru wasn’t watching her anymore, his gaze was fixed down at Tokijin, where it lay right next to-

“Sesshoumaru-sama? What happened? And where’s Tensaiga?”

Sesshoumaru raises his head and turns to her – restraining himself for a total of two seconds; Kagome counted – then takes a total of five steps so he’s in front of her, and tries to hide her in his one arm. Kagome can do nothing but breathe and blink, wondering where Sesshoumaru is and why his body is acting against his will.

Because never had Sesshoumaru really “hugged” anyone without it ending sexually.

And that was the only way she could describe this.

His hand spread evenly over the curve of her spine, his elbow bent, pressing her to his chest, covered by the armor almost falling off his frame.

Since when did Sesshoumaru do anything, such as dress, sloppily?

“Sesshoumaru-sama?” Kagome muttered weakly into the pelt over his shoulder, still far too confused for the good of mankind.

Sesshoumaru grunted and rested his forehead on the very top of her head, his nose loosing itself in her bangs. She was so shorter than he was. His eyes closed, his head spun.

Why? Honestly, did he not have enough complications in his life? Why did whoever planted them there – humans, demons, animals, plants, etc, etc – decide it would be okay to shove something so important into his life? His emotions, what very few there were, had always been distant and hard to really care about. Anger, he understood. Superiority, he understood. Lust, hatred, impatience, annoyance, confusion, blah, blah, blah.

He didn’t need ‘love’ or ‘infatuation’ or ‘hunger’ or whatever humans were calling it these days.

Kagome pulled back from him and looked him in the eyes. “Where is Tensaiga? Did-”

Sesshoumaru tuned out her words, studying the light reflected deep in her eyes.

But he also didn’t need the little human girl that had followed him, or the pelt over his shoulder, or the armor that covered his chest, or the long hair down his back, or-

The ache in his chest when he looked at the priestess.

Sesshoumaru sighed, and drew away.

Kagome stopped her onslaught of “WTF?” questions and put her hand on his brow. “Are you feeling well, Sesshoumaru?”

Sesshoumaru turned toward the path that lead up the hill, the path those soldiers had been following. Their purpose had been to steal the Tensaiga, but why?

“Sesshoumaru!”

“Hn.”

“Well I guess that answers my question.”

Sesshoumaru glanced over his shoulder at her, smirking. “Come, Kagome. I believe the shrine is this way.”

Kagome threw her hands up in the air and followed after him. “You’d think after what happened last night-”

“And afternoon.”

Kagome grumbled and caught up to him. “You’d think after what happened last night and afternoon-”

“Early morning as well-”

“Fine! You’d think after what happened yesterday and this morning, you’d be a little nicer to me. Or at least answer my questions! Honestly, I don’t know why the gods figured I didn’t have enough complications in my life. I mean-… why are you looking at me like that?”

Sesshoumaru’s eyes warmed while focused on her – they even think alike, charming – but he snorted and glided ahead of her at her last question. “I, Sesshoumaru, have no idea what look you speak of.”

Kagome, repressing the happy giggle that tore through her bleeding heart, tried to glare at him. “That one where you’re trying not to smile and-”

“I’ve never smiled, girl-”

“And your eyes get almost happy-”

“That sentence made no sense-”

“Technically, it was a phrase and- ha! There it is again!”

Sesshoumaru turned away from her and continued up the winding path, higher and higher into the mountain’s clutches. Kagome prattled next to him, her voice rising and falling with how utterly unbearable he was and how she had no idea why she was stuck with him, and he listened.

Until she started talking.

Those soldiers were puppets, he mused, stepping over a small branch in the path. Their only purpose was to distract me so they could steal the Tensaiga.

Ha-ha, irony.

Ha. Ha.

Kagome: Something bad is going to happen.

Sesshoumaru: Surely it can’t be worse then that last-

Kagome: Oh, sure! It’s my entire fault we accidentally “fell” into a thorn bush.

Sesshoumaru: Repeatedly.

Noacat, dude, I haven’t heard from you in forever. I was pretty sure you forgot about me. But when you reviewed I remember other people who hadn’t reviewed in a long time. Swasdiva for instance. I think I did something to anger her.

I’m going to give you a music recommendation today-

Map of the Problematique – Muse

Go download it. It’s awesome.

I almost forgot. Kanela (who I also haven’t talked to in forever) gave me a colored Masao picture for my birthday! But you can’t see it. I don’t have a URL yet. I still have to stop being lazy.