InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Fleeting ❯ Protection ( Chapter 3 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

un_love_you prompt:  #08:  “I’m cruel.”

He was at the end of his rope, and he was running out of time.

This chapter was due in six hours.  

He was 2500 words short.  

No matter what he tried, he just could not find a way to stretch the material to meet the suggested word count.

This is ridiculous, he groused, pushing himself away from his desk and the mocking glow of his computer screen.  His chair bumped against the side of his bed, and he slumped forward, pushing his hands through his hair.  Nothing short of quoting the entire conclusion of that last reference will do it.

His nails raked against his scalp as he banished the idea from his mind.  His advisor was riding him pretty hard, but not nearly as hard as he was treating himself.  He was on a deadline, dammit.  If he didn’t graduate by May, everything would be absolutely ruined.

Nobody understood the sheer amount of stress he was under, self-induced or not.  It seemed like no matter what he did, he never quite measured up to his father’s lofty standards.  Graduating first in his class in high school with full marks?  Not good enough.  Earning entrance into the toughest undergraduate program at the top university in the city?  Not good enough.  A bachelor’s degree in three years, conferred with highest honors?

Not. Good. Enough.

It had been that way his entire life.  Even when he was five years old and had brought home his first academic prize, his father’s reaction had been the same:  a narrow, assessing glare that edged down the slope of his nose – a single look that had the power to cut straight through its target.  

Perhaps that’s when he had committed his gravest mistake:  taking his father’s reaction as a challenge.  His five-year-old heart was determined to bring something other than thinly-veined disappointment to grace his father’s features, and thus had set in motion an endless, vicious cycle of events.  

It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, however, he could never erase that end result.

When he turned seventeen, it had all come to a head.  His father had called him into his office the day before high school graduation.  He’d been largely absent the prior few months, as he worked round the clock to secure yet another takeover of a holdings company.  With that merger, his corporation became one of the most formidable in the country, controlling stakes in everything from hospitals to road works.

Sesshoumaru remembered the moment well:  standing in front of his father’s desk, holding his head as high as he dared as he stared back at the man he so desperately wanted to impress.  His father had calmly returned the gaze, ever calculating, before throwing down the gauntlet:

“If you wish to succeed me, you must prove you are worthy of being the heir to my power.”

That ultimatum had brought Sesshoumaru’s entire world into focus.  It had taken twelve years, but finally, he understood:  just because he had been born into privilege didn’t mean that he was going to have his inheritance handed to him.  It became crystal clear that his father was going to do absolutely nothing to help him.  That realization – proving to his father that he had the brains and the balls to do whatever it took to succeed him – became his obsession.

These days, he was no longer surprised at his father’s distinct lack of enthusiasm about his achievements, academic or otherwise.  But that look never disappeared, and it still made Sesshoumaru’s blood boil.  It was a tacit threat, the only thing that could make him feel vulnerable and frustrated and helpless in an instant.

It was the last straw.

He had to graduate from this program in the spring.  There was an opening at one of his family’s rival companies, a strategic internship placement that carried with it the possibility of permanent employment.  The position?  

Merger negotiation.

To hell with never measuring up to his father’s impossible standards.  If he was going to be blocked from inheriting what was rightfully his, he’d simply take it by force.

The slam of the apartment’s front door startled him in his brooding.  He growled and cast a deathly glare at his bedroom door as the silence was broken around him.  Judging by the general commotion wafting down the hallway and through the common room, it seemed his roommate had returned from wherever it was she’d gone that morning.

Oh, he liked her well enough – she was generally quiet and considerate, never bothering him unless he was in one of their shared spaces.  He was somewhat amused by her breezy, seemingly uncomplicated lifestyle; she lived her life in a veritable social whirlwind, the complete opposite of his staid existence.

But their dynamic had taken a turn for the uneasy in the past few months.  As such, he’d been surprised – and disappointed – when he’d learned that she was staying on campus over the winter break from classes.  Unused to living with someone else for such an extended period of time – no one had lasted as long as she had – he’d so been looking forward to a stretch of time alone to focus on his work.

The last thing he needed right now was a distraction.

“Kouga, keep it down, please,” Kagome pleaded, watching him flit around her kitchen with her good eye.  A knot of dread was already beginning to form in her stomach.  This was not a good idea, she reminded herself.  Sesshoumaru can’t stand him!

Kouga continued to bang around, oblivious.  “What are you talking about?” he asked her cheerfully, filling her tea kettle with water and setting it on the stove.  “I’m only making a pot of tea!”

She winced as the door to her tea cabinet slammed shut, cringing further at the sharp pain that streaked across her face.  Gingerly, she touched her red, sore cheek.  She’d been on her way home from the bus stop when the skies had opened and rained hail and sleet down upon her.  It had come seemingly out of nowhere, and she’d been completely unprepared for it.  Luckily – or perhaps unluckily – Kouga had been on the same bus, and had draped his overcoat around her, offering to walk her home.

In her moment of desperation, she’d rescinded her vow of giving up on the flaky men in her life and agreed, only to remember – too late – that Sesshoumaru was at their apartment, hard at work on his thesis.  He would not welcome an extra set of feet stomping around the place, even on his best day – which had not been recently.  He’d been snippy with her all week, hence her need to get out of the apartment in spite of the dreary weather.

“Listen, Kouga, I appreciate this,” she tried again, resting her head in her hand, “but it’s really not necessary.  Besides, Sesshoumaru’s here – ”

Kouga laughed out loud.  “Of course he is, that pathetic little prick,” he interrupted, giving her a self-satisfied smirk as he leaned against the counter near the stove and crossed his arms over his chest.  “That guy doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘fun’.  Always got his nose in a book, eternally planning little strategies to take over his daddy’s companies.”  He shook his head in mocking pity.

“He’s not that bad,” she protested, the reasons why she didn’t thrill over being in Kouga’s company for a long stretch of time coming back to her, and fast.

“If you say so…” Kouga’s words trailed off as he eyed her.  “Look, do you two have something going or what?  I can’t why imagine a perfectly sane, perfectly luscious girl such as yourself would live with that jerk voluntarily.”

Kagome flushed in response.  How was she supposed to answer that?  Things had certainly changed between them since that fateful Halloween night, albeit not for the best.  As she struggled to find her voice, Kouga leaned over and shut off the heat under the whistling kettle.

“Besides,” he continued, placing it on the tray and bringing it to the table where she sat, “I think I deserve to know if I’m sharing my woman.”

“Your woman?!” she sputtered.  “Since when?”

He ignored her question, looping his arm over the back of her chair as he swayed close, invading her personal space with an uninviting leer.  “Please, Kagome, know that if you’re in some sort of trouble with him, you can always come to me.”

“Ahem.”

Kagome breathed a silent sigh of relief at the interruption, quickly moving away from the uninvited embrace.  She glanced up over Kouga’s shoulder, her eyes growing wide as she took in her roommate’s stony expression.  Suddenly, the knot in her stomach doubled over on itself.

“If you’re quite finished castigating me and my roommate, kindly remove yourself from my property,” Sesshoumaru said calmly, coldly.  He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, openly glowering at the pair of them from across the room.

Koga straightened, latching onto Sesshoumaru’s scowl with a matching glare of his own.  “‘Castigating’?  Dude, what are you, from the Feudal Era or something?” he scoffed.  “Please.  Besides, I’m here because Kagome invited me.  I was protecting her – ”

“The only thing she needs protection from is you,” Sesshoumaru cut in, closing the space between them with long, languid strides.

“I’ll leave when Kagome tells me to,” Kouga replied, his lips curling into a sneer as his rival approached.

“Is that so?”  Sesshoumaru returned, before Kagome could even open her mouth.  “Last time I looked, this was my property, so what I say goes.”

“Is she your property, too?” Kouga asked sarcastically, jutting a finger in Kagome’s direction.

Sesshoumaru gave him a small, hard smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes.  “How is our relationship any business of yours?” he inquired curtly.

Kouga’s eyes bugged out of his head.  “So it is true,” he muttered, casting a suspicious glare at the girl whose honor he had just been defending.

For her part, Kagome was completely stunned by this turn of events; she didn’t think it was possible to feel any worse than she had a scant few minutes before, out in the hailstorm.  Again, she struggled for words.  “Kouga, I – ”

“I mean, holy shit, I knew you were easy, but this?” Kouga cut in, incredulous.  “Wow, this is pretty pathetic, even for the likes of you.”

“Easy?!”  she shot back, bolting upright, knocking the chair over in her unsteady, half-numb state.

Before he could respond, Kouga found himself pinned against the refrigerator, Sesshoumaru’s hand solid and firm and crushing against his throat.  His face turned seven shades of red and purple as Sesshoumaru tightened his grip, lifting him off his feet.

“Are you ready to put that particular theory to the test?” Sesshoumaru mused, his tone as cold and hard as his hold.  He curled his fingers inward, his nails digging into Kouga’s flesh.  

Kouga battled for air, swatting uselessly at the iron wrist that held him.

Kagome didn’t have the words to express the anger and humiliation she felt in that moment, knowing now what he truly thought of her – why he was still hanging around her, even after the rest of his friends had shunned her.  She grabbed his overcoat and heaved it across the room.  “Get out!” she cried, tears burning behind her eyes.

Sesshoumaru suddenly loosened his grip, taking a step back, and Kouga slumped into an unceremonious heap on their kitchen floor.  “You heard the woman,” he mused darkly, spearing his fallen opponent with a sharp look.

Kouga glared up at the two of them.  “You two deserve each other,” he wheezed, his breath hard and heavy in his chest as he struggled to regain his air.  “You’re both fucking insane!”  He heaved himself up, reaching for his coat, and began to half-walk, half-crawl from the room.  

Sesshoumaru was fast on his heels, suppressing the urge to shove Kouga out the front door; as it was, he gave the door a not-so-satisfying slam after he was finally gone.

“Thank you,” came a quiet, hesitant voice from behind him.

Sesshoumaru closed his eyes, flipping the lock on the door before turning to face his erstwhile roommate.

“This is all your fault, you know,” he declared, unable to hold his irritation in check any longer.

Kagome’s brow furrowed as she peered at him, clutching the cup of tea she held in front of her, as if to shield herself from his growing annoyance.  “I…don’t understand,” she finally replied.

“Of course you don’t,” he shot back, heaving an exasperated sigh.  “How could you?  The most pressing project in your life, at present, is trying to choose between two pairs of shoes on any given day.”

He pushed past her, but she caught the sleeve of his shirt, bringing him up short.  “Sesshoumaru, wait!” she pleaded.  “I’m sorry, I can explain – ”

His patience completely bottomed out.  “You knew,” he cut in, pivoting on his heel to face her as he broke away from her grip.  “You knew that I was extremely busy, on a very tight schedule with this chapter of my thesis.”  He glared at her.  “So what do you do?  You bring over quite possibly the biggest asshole on the planet to stomp around in our kitchen and be his general annoying self.”  He crossed his arms over his chest.  “Very mature, Kagome.”

Her jaw dropped as she stared at him, her hands tightening around the cup.  “Mature?” she fired back hotly.  “And what about that little display back there, getting in his face?  Oh, yeah, that’s how real men settle their differences – with violence!”

He narrowed his eyes but didn’t respond, not willing to give her the satisfaction.

She swallowed convulsively under the intensity of his scrutiny, the color receding from her face as they stood there, in awkward silence.  Finally, she looked away from him.  “Did you mean what you said back there?” she asked softly.  “About us – our ‘relationship’?”

His eyes hooded.  “My business is my business,” he intoned bluntly.

She licked her lips.  “And am I your business?”

Right now, all she was to him was a fucking distraction.  He turned, his arms falling back to his sides as he contemplated a response to her query.  “You’re a sweet kid, Kagome,” he finally replied, “but frivolous, irresponsible party girl isn’t exactly my type.”

She exhaled sharply, the sound of it stabbing him in the stomach.  It wasn’t exactly the truth – she wasn’t his type, no, but she was incredibly attractive, and she could be intriguing, and she was a decent roommate most of the time.  Another time, another place – ?  Who knows what could’ve happened between them.

But not now.  He didn’t have the time, interest, or inclination to start a romantic relationship with anyone, much less her.  His thesis – the key to his future – was at the forefront of his mind, too urgent and too pressing to demand anything less than his full attention.

“Like I said before,” he murmured, setting off down the hall towards his bedroom, “don’t start something you aren’t prepared to finish.”  You’re not ready to tangle with me, he added silently.  You’re not ready to deal with my shit, and I’m not ready to subject you to it.