Pre-Note: Man, have I got a lot to tell you guys!
In the First Quarter 2012 Dokuga Awards, this story won First Place for Best Drama! I just about squee'd myself deaf when I saw that (after I got through looking all o.O, of course), so thanks so much for those of you who nominated and voted last quarter! In this quarter, (Second Quarter 2012) TTC has been nominated for Best Sesshomaru Portrayal, and it's also been nominated at the Feudal Association for Best AU/AR Fiction. You guys are just the most awesomest, magnificent, totally kick-ass group of readers ever, I swear! Now, before this gets too long, here's the next chapter! Enjoy!
Chapter Thirty-Five—Reclaiming What Was Lost
It hit her so abruptly that she stumbled, and standing in the middle of the snow-covered walkway with Jiao-Long grasping at her elbow, Kagome waited. It came again, a strong, swift pulse of Kotono's youki, like a blow to the chest. Kagome held her breath. And then again, longer, warmer, stronger. She turned to take a step toward the compound. Once more, even longer, battering around the petite human's ribcage. Her heart hammered, and she took a small, hesitant step toward the buildings. "Kagome-sama…?" It was Yun-Qi, and she had only to glance at him before he was gone, a flurry of snow-dust kicking up in his wake. She chewed at her lip. Again, Kotono's aura, pulsing in her chest as though it were her own power. And then, sweetly, softly, came the only affirmation she needed; Yun-Qi's youki, like a spring breeze, winding around her back and tugging her forward. "Jiao-Long—!" But she hadn't needed to say anything; already, her guard was scooping her up against his chest, and she hid her face in the warmth of his haori as they moved. She was struggling out of his hold as soon as he stopped, and obediently he released her, catching her upper arm as she stumbled. Uncaring—unknowing—of the servants already gathered around the Healer's building, and the Healer herself, Kagome shoved through the crowd and into the building, following the press of Kotono's aura down to a room that was secluded from the rest. She was surprised to see Lord Sesshomaru standing near the door, but as though the sight of him awoke her senses, she felt his youki twining alongside Kotono's, thick and heavy in the halls. Though his back was to her, and he did not turn to acknowledge her, he spoke, baritone voice low and almost angry. "Go; she calls for you." Something like hurt flashed briefly in the power pressing against her lungs, but when she stepped beside him and looked up into his face, the pale planes were expressionless, his eyes hard. "Sesshomaru-sama…" "Male presence shall not be tolerated. Your servants shall remain here." She wanted to speak with him, to ask what it was that he was hiding, but a voice she hadn't heard in weeks floated from the dark recesses of the room, hoarse with disuse. "K-Kagome…?" Torn, the miko faltered, just for a moment, and laid a brief hand against her lord's arm. Stiffly, he shifted away from her, and then turned altogether and walked away, his youki trailing after him like a cloud of smoke. "Kagome-sama, Kotono-sama awaits," Yun-Qi murmured, and she nodded, forcefully tearing her eyes away from where Sesshomaru had gone. "I…I'll be back." "Give Kotono-sama our greetings," Yun-Qi added, and Kagome nodded again before stepping into the dark room. As soon as her eyes adjusted, she found Kotono easily, sitting in the corner farthest away from the door. Her legs were pulled up to her chest, and her arms were wrapped around her knees, her once-bright eyes staring dully in Kagome's direction. Recognition and relief flooded her beautiful face, and she sagged as though holding her back straight had been taxing. "I thought that I had…imagined you," she whispered, eyes closing. "I thought that I was with him, I thought that he would—" "No, Kotono," Kagome interrupted, neither wanting to hear or force the dragoness to speak the words. "He won't, never again." She stepped closer, kneeling in front of the lady's indrawn legs. "I'm so happy you're awake," she confessed after a moment, reaching up to touch one of Kotono's pale hands. "Hatsu-san wasn't sure you would ever come back." "I thought that I had imagined you," Kotono repeated, and in what little light managed to filter to this side of the room, Kagome saw a tear slip, silvery and silent, down her cheek. "Are you really here, little one, or have I dreamt of you again?" Kagome swiped at her suddenly welling eyes. "I'm here, Kotono." The dragoness opened her eyes, and they shone with a broken light, anguished and shadowed. "Help me, Kagome," she whispered, and her voice was as broken as her eyes, like a child who had lost her mother. "Please help me." And so Kagome did. For seven days and nights, she helped. She cradled the dragoness close when grief and rage and pain drove her to weeping like a child; fed her when she would not feed herself; slept beside her even when night terrors made her dangerous; forced herself to stay awake when sleeplessness plagued the dragoness' restless mind. And on the seventh night, while the dragoness slept peacefully for the first time in days, Kagome cried. Isamu woke on the eighth day, and it was persuasion from both him and Kagome that coaxed the dragoness out of the Healer's building for the first time. It was a slow walk that they took, that first day, with Isamu staunchly enduring the pain his mostly-healed injuries caused him and Kotono shying away from every male presence they came across. The fear that she displayed, be it subtle or glaringly obvious, made Kagome's heart ache, and it was with determination that Kagome declared their walks a now daily thing. Under the pretense of showing Isamu around the compound, she and Kotono walked with him for a little while each day, and when they had toured all of the buildings, Kagome led them through the gardens again and again. 'Soon,' the miko thought as she and the dragoness settled down for the night two weeks after she'd first woken, 'she'll be ready to see Sesshomaru-sama.'
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There it was again—fear. And Sesshomaru hated it. He hated the lizard who had thought to put his hands on what did not belong to him—on what he never should have wished for in the first place. He hated the slowly fading dullness in his first's eyes, hated the wariness that leapt into her aura each time she saw him. But most of all, he hated the fear. Kotono had never feared him, even when she'd stood across from him on the battlefield, even when she had managed to wound him so thoroughly that it had left a scar and he had been so irreversibly livid that he had reverted to his baser instincts. And of all the emotions that she had shown him over their time together—anger, anxiety, derision, amusement, love—she had never shown him fear. And now, she was terrified. When he finally faced the scum she had the misfortune of being related to, he was going to make him choke on his own manhood. Preferably after he disemboweled him and wrapped his intestines around his throat. The grisly image—and the promised bloodshed—managed to calm him somewhat, and when he realized that Kagome had broken away from Kotono and Isamu and was approaching him, he tore his gaze away from Kotono's stiffly held figure and coolly regarded the little human. She smiled, but the edges of it were tense, and he knew she only did it because it was expected of her. "I think," she began lowly, "that you should send for her. Tonight." He nearly snarled at her for her presumption. "I cannot. She is not ready." Kagome shook her head, wavy hair swishing gently against her back. "Yes, she is. She just doesn't know it yet." She cast a look over her shoulder, and when she turned to him again, there was profound sadness in her bright eyes. "Please, Sesshomaru-sama. She needs you." Once more, he looked—really looked—at his dragoness. Her back was stiff, yes, and the line of her mouth had thinned just so, and there really was fear in eyes that had once shown him nothing except acceptance, but…If he looked hard enough, if he delved deeply enough, there was longing, need, desire. A breath he didn't know he'd been holding passed through his lips, and when he turned his gaze back to his miko, she was smiling again. And this time, she meant it.
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Come. That was all it said, and Kotono absently dismissed the servant who had delivered the note, lifting her eyes to Kagome's face just as the miko swallowed a bite of rice. "What?" Silently, the dragoness passed her the small piece of parchment, and then looked down into her own bowl of warm beef. "Well? Are you going to go?" "I cannot refuse him," she answered automatically, and despite trying to keep her voice neutral, her throat had constricted, and the words came out much tighter than she'd intended. She glanced up, and then was unable to look away from the intensity of Kagome's gaze—'She must have learned something from Chiyoko-sama,' she mused absently—and her stomach flipped so violently that she pushed her bowl away. "Go," Kagome demanded, the soft tones she usually employed replaced by strict determination. Feeling as though their roles had been reversed, Kotono swallowed thickly, searching the miko's face for reassurance. "I can't—" "You have to." "I don't want—" "Yes, you do; I know it." "I can't let him—" "He isn't him." Whatever rebuttal she wanted to make caught in her throat, and her fingers grew numb as tears pricked heatedly at her eyes. Sighing shakily, she looked away. "I know he isn't, but I'm…afraid." It wasn't hard to admit it, not to Kagome, but admitting it to herself at the same time felt as though someone had shoved a pike down her throat. She swallowed, and the pain intensified. Kagome sighed, and when she spoke again, gone were the hard edges of her tone. "I'll never really understand what it is you're fighting with," she said softly, pushing her own bowl away and rounding the table to kneel in front of her, "but I do know what it's like to be scared." Softly, she swiped at a tear with the edge of her sleeve, and the gesture was so motherly that Kotono couldn't help but offer a watery, lightly amused smile. "I think you've given Ryuu enough power over you." And Kotono realized, suddenly, that she had given him enough. Determination to answer Lord Sesshomaru's summons chased away her indecision, but her fear stubbornly remained, and she licked her lips, feeling like a child. "Walk with me?" Kagome smiled. "Of course."
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Kotono hadn't let go of her hand since she'd walked into the room, and though her fingers were now in danger of numbing to the point of uselessness, Kagome wouldn't have forced the dragoness to release her even if her life had depended on it. 'After everything she's done for me, this is nothing.' Sitting across from them—and having successfully engaged Kotono in light conversation—Lord Sesshomaru was the embodiment of patience. For the better part of two hours, he had done nothing but talk and sip his tea. He had skirted so expertly around delicate topics that Kagome hardly noticed when he did it, and the subtle way he manipulated the dragoness into speaking of things she liked to speak about was nothing short of awe-inspiring. Only when topics began to dwindle did he finish his tea and rise smoothly to his feet, holding a large hand out for Kotono to take—to Kagome's delight, there was only a split second hesitation before the dragoness placed her palm in his, and the miko deftly regained her own hand as she rose. Folding her hands in front of her, Kagome smiled brightly when Lord Sesshomaru glanced at her, and then followed behind them, noting that although Kotono had released his hand—and consequently, not reached for hers again—she walked close enough to Sesshomaru for their fingers to brush. 'It's working! It's really working!' As they walked from Sesshomaru's archives toward his rooms, Kagome mentally prepared herself for her eventual dismissal. It was likely a dismissal she would have to give herself, but somehow she would have to find a way back to her own building and away from the closeness that was slowly resurfacing between the youkai ahead of her. 'But what if she needs you? You can't just leave her.' Kagome winced. Over the past few days, she'd learned that her relationships with the women of the compound were evolving into something far closer than she'd ever had with another group of women. To her, Chiyoko was now more than her teacher; Rin more than a friend; Aoi more than a mystery. And Kotono had somehow worked her way so deeply into her heart that she was afraid the dragoness would never be free again. 'She is closer than a friend—she's family.' And for a young woman whose family had been gone for years, Kotono's assumption of that role made her chest ache with gratitude. Her thoughts shifted as Lord Sesshomaru slowed to a stop, and as she realized that they were at his rooms, she purposefully lingered a few feet back, keeping herself in Kotono's peripheral vision while allowing the inu to dominate her attention. They said nothing, but even Kagome could see the conversation flitting between their gazes, and feeling as though she were intruding on a private moment, the petite miko looked away, only to look back up as a rustle of fabric and the hem of Kotono's silver kimono entered her line of sight. Smiling down at her, Kotono folded her hands in front of her, bright green eyes full of an uncertainty Kagome had come to despise. "Will you come with me?" she asked, and her voice was so soft, so quiet, that Kagome nearly burst into tears. "Please, Kagome? I—" Her voice cracked. "I need you." She couldn't have denied her if she'd tried.
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She felt like a child again, being coaxed into battle training with her uncle. "It'll hurt," he'd told her, the emerald green eyes of her mother's family shining with grave honesty, "but it'll be worth it." Now, like then, she forced herself to square her shoulders, to flood her mind with feigned confidence. And now, like then, she held tight to the fingers enclosed in her own, drawing strength and courage from the small frame beside her. Though Lord Sesshomaru had agreed to allow Kagome into the room for a short time—she would never be able to express her gratitude to him for that—Kotono still felt as though the walls were buckling in around her, squeezing closer and closer until she was sure she would suffocate. Despite her time away from it, Kotono knew this room—intimately, she knew this room. Memories flooded her mind in a constant stream of images and sensations; cool wood at her back, warmth at her front, hardness between her thighs. She could remember the sound of a table shattering beneath Lord Sesshomaru's vigorous attentions; could recall the mind-numbing releases that she had been granted on every surface whether she'd been ready for them or not. But in each memory, there was a man who didn't belong. There was the sick gleam of eyes the color of blood in place of heated amber; the heavy weight of a scaled body instead of the comfortable press of smooth alabaster skin. "Kotono?" Kagome had pressed a hand against her arm, and Kotono pulled herself out of memories she did not wish to recall, closing her eyes against the swell of sorrow that welled into her throat. "Fine," she whispered, "I'm fine." With a soft hum, the miko stepped away, and Kotono forced her eyes open. Her gaze immediately caught Sesshomaru's, and though her heart thundered uncomfortably in her ribs, her belly gave a familiar little drop. Distantly, she recognized the drop for what it was—a mixture of attraction and nervousness—but anxiety drew the fear she despised to the forefront of her mind, and she turned away from Sesshomaru's steady gaze, ashamed and uncertain of herself. She drew in a breath when he touched her, tracing the angle of her jaw with the tips of his fingers. Warmly, those fingers pressed against her chin, and she looked up at his nudging, instantly snared by the warm swirl of her lord's eyes. "My dragoness," he murmured, and bent his head until his lips brushed against her temple. "So lovely." His tone slipped into something that resembled amusement. "And yet she has forgotten." Softly, the hand at her chin slipped up her cheek, claws tangling in the hair above her ears. "This Sesshomaru must remind her, it seems." Breath caught in her throat, Kotono leaned into his touch, pulse beginning to flutter. Her thoughts whirled, disjointed and colored with apprehension, and then, lightly, Lord Sesshomaru pressed his lips to her cheek, the corner of her mouth, and then her lips, and all thought stopped. Sensation, warm and soft and comfortable, poured into her chest, and she tried her best not to whimper; instead, she shifted just a little closer. An eagerness she had thought extinguished rose up from her belly, and as though he sensed it, Sesshomaru wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her close. Fighting against the fear and the anxiety and the apprehension seething in one corner of her mind, Kotono relaxed in his hold, and as he rumbled against her lips, she exhaled, "Please," and he drew her even closer. Together, they rediscovered the things that had made them friends; the things that had made them lovers; the things that had made them more. And sitting in the hall, eyes closed against the heady roll of the paring youkai's aura, a miko smiled and sent a prayer of thanks to the gods.
Author's Note: And there's that! I'll try to get the next chapter out in a timely manner, but with school starting, I'm not sure I'll be able to do that.
Anyway, thanks for reading! Also, if you haven't already, please take a moment to read my threesome fic, titled The Cure. I'd really love to know what you all think about it! Thanks again for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to review—your feedback means everything!
~Aubrey
