Observer

Title: Observer
Author: Saraste
Rating: Adult
Characters: Kagura, Sango
Genre: canon'ish
Words: 1000
Summary: Kagura envies Sango for her freedom, or does she?
Prompt: Originally written for the LJ comm iyhedonism for their week 21 'obsession'.
A/N: Dedicated to my lovely vexed_wench who gave me the nudge I needed. Thank you for putting the idea into my head!

* * *

She was the epitome of freedom to her.

She did as she wished, without no-one or nothing holding her back. She was a person who had stolen the heart the wind sorceress didn't have to give.

For she was captive, held in the cruel and mad hands of her master, Naraku.

She said she coveted her freedom, wishing to gain it for herself but it was her that she wanted.

Kagura craved for her, observing the object of her affections from the shadows as she fought, in her prime element in the heat of the battle. The slayers long limbs flexing as she yelled and threw her hiraikotsu against an assailant. And they defeated them all. Defeated all that Naraku sent to try and slay them. In a way Kagura was happy for it, for it gave her the opportunity to spy on them.

Watch her.

Touch herself in the shadows when it was all over. Only the scattered remains of the groups opponents strewn on the ground reminding that there had been a battle taking place there.

Spread herself open, open her thighs and skim her fingers in her moist folds, rubbing against her clit and sigh. She'd never be hers. She'd never touch her bosom or feel her breath hitch and sigh that forbidden name. It would never come to pass. And yet the image of that battle flushed face shone in Kagura's eyes and she was lost. Lost in a trembling orgasm as she sank deeper into her desperate affection.

Gathering herself and righting her clothes, she wept at her stupidity. There would be no chance for her. She was a monster born from a monster. A demon who'd do anything to gain her freedom. And yet she now had something she craved for even more.

Her.

* * * *

She watched her practise in secret.

Keep her body fit as she trained with the others, trading blows with monk and hanyou alike, her skill not beneath theirs. The way she clapped the monk over the head as he became too affectionate with her rear. His barely chastised laugh as he walked away with a slight limp.

She was free.

She shouldn't have had worries apart from the ones Naraku heaped in front of them all. And yet the way she swung her hiraikotsu back and released it against a tree spoke of deep frustration. Discontentment.

Sango wasn't happy.

And Kagura couldn't figure out why. The slayer had friends. Oh, how often had she spied them upon their fire, laughing and talking, sharing in each others company. She had a confidant in the mildly irksome miko, got along with the hanyou and conversed well with the monk. The slayer had even the nekomata for company and comfort and the fox kit to protect. And still Kagura more than often saw her stare into space and sigh softly.

The slayer seemed to only be properly alive when she fought. She seemed to forget all then. Everything. How Kagura wished she could do that too. But she was ever bound to her cruel master who held her heart in the palm of his hand, ready to extinguish her life if he saw fit.

She watched her take a punch and counter it with a weighed blow. See her eyes determined and focused. Almost hear the blood pounding in her ears it would be in hers as she beheld her. Sango. Unbeaten and unrivalled. An angel of revenge as she swirled her body in action, hand and weapon moving in perfect harmony.

Blissfully unaware of the scrutiny she was under. Ignorant of the pair of eyes which followed her every move.

Or so Kagura had thought.

* * * *

“Could you stop that,” Sango turned around mid-swing and faced her.

Kagura's breath caught in her throat. Now eye to eye with her obsession she was speechless. Her body moved, as if on it's own, and she stepped into the clearing the slayer had been practising on. She fidgeted and fingered her fan nervously, eyeing Sango's every move as hostile towards her. She
wouldn't be surprised if the slayer did kill her.

“Slayer” she addressed her, fearing to utter that forbidden name lest she betray her feeling. And yet she was already hopelessly lost in the others presence.

“Why do you temp me so?” Sango asked, challenging her with her steady and wilful gaze. “As inconstant and flickering as the wind you govern but yet always there.”

“I...”

And then she saw. Saw the lust shining in the slayers eyes, saw her throw away her weapon and rush, rush at her to kiss her. Strong and hard, just as she was. But yet gentle in ways Kagura had not expected.

“Why must it be this way?” Sango asked, clearly pained. “I cannot ... love you the way I do. And yet I do.”

“Don't love me,” Kagura said, trying to alleviate Sango's pain. “Lust me if you must, but do not love me. And free me if you can. If not, slay me as is your way.”

The conviction was lacking, her words held no weight. Discretion and sanity thrown to the wind as they sank down to the forest floor in each others arms. Touching and learning, desperately feeling and seeking each other in the dark like the broken souls they were.

Bodies entwined as hands and lips found their place, pleasure taking them into her bosom as they moaned and twisted, lost and found. Explored what was known but foreign. Found what was new but familiar like a piece of themselves they'd always been lacking. Sharing what was hidden, discovering what was lost.

Coming together heedless of the consequences. Sharing that moment like it was their last. Murmuring into the darkness, cradled in pleasure.

Whispers of a life that was never meant to be. Freedom that couldn't be obtained. A love which was doomed from the start.

A memory that carried on into the freedom of the afterlife. A cherished encounter carrying over hardships.