InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Fleeting ❯ Regret ( Chapter 4 )

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

un_love_you prompt:  #27 – (Author’s Choice) – “I miss you.”

She ran.

It was no surprise, really; for all his talent with diplomacy, he might as well be a block of wood.  It was part of the reason he’d undertaken taken this degree program in the first place:  one couldn’t be a successful merger negotiator if one didn’t have an excellent set of cross- (double-) talking skills at one’s disposal.

Admittedly, he could’ve couched his words better, though – there really hadn’t been need to add insult to injury.  He’d just let his irritation get the best of him that afternoon, that’s all.  Her heartbroken gasp of shock was all the punishment he needed to concede that maybe it had been a bit of a jerky thing to say.  Jerky or not, though, it had gotten him what he wanted:  some peace and quiet to finish his damn thesis chapter.

He didn’t realize the full consequences of his words until the next day.  

He’d spent most of the day in his advisor’s office, sweating over the solution he’d managed to haphazard together at the last minute.  Somehow, being unhappy with the chapter himself made the criticism that flowed from this so-called expert of the field easier to handle.  And boy, was there a raging river of it this time – though, he grudgingly admitted, most of it well deserved.

However, he was in luck:  Christmas was approaching, and the rest of the world was slowly grinding to a halt for the holiday.  For him, that meant extra time to get this portion of his paper in shape before tackling the next bit, due when classes resumed in January.  He’d gone immediately home, full of determination and resolve to get a head start.

How long he worked, he wasn’t sure, but gradually, he became aware that there was no other movement around the apartment.  Kagome had left early that morning, before he was even out of bed, and he figured she’d probably be gone most of the day.  The previous afternoon’s events had left things quite strained between them, even to his generally oblivious standards.  

So, he put the thought out of his mind, making himself a quick dinner before resuming his revisions.  It was only after midnight had come and gone, and he was readying himself to turn in, that he realized –

She was gone.

He didn’t know what to think.  After all, wasn’t this what he wanted – total peace and quiet, time to himself, away from the hassle of dealing with others?  Time to devote to his thesis, his master plan, his future?  Wasn’t that the most important thing right now?

He was washing his dishes when it hit him – or, more to the point, when he hit his head against the door of her tea cabinet.  He glanced up sharply, but found his gaze softening as it lingered.  Somehow, knowing that her things were still there brought forth some measure of comfort.  She isn’t gone for good, he thought wistfully.

He shook himself, turning his attention back to his dishes.  “Of course she isn’t,” he mused aloud.  “I’d know if she’d left forever.  She wasn’t exactly quiet when she moved in, at least.”  A tiny smile played at the corners of his lips as he finished, turning off the taps and drying his hands on a towel.  The wisp of memory floated at the periphery of his mind:  she had been quite clumsy, bringing loads more things than he’d expected, especially considering she had been in student housing before signing the contract to rent out his spare room.  But she had been quite good-humored about the whole thing, apologizing profusely for disturbing him and swearing it would never happen again.

And, for the most part, she’d lived up to that promise.

Then Halloween had happened, a party that lived up to its ‘life-changing’ billing in quite a few respects.

It was funny; until then, he’d thought of her as little more than an amusing but considerate roommate, someone who managed to share his living quarters exactly as he wished:  with minimal fuss or muss.  They hadn’t spent a great deal of time together, but managed to find a comfortable space to share the common room on occasion – she, usually watching some stupid TV show, while he relaxed with the newspaper.

Since that fateful night, however, things had certainly changed.  Their shared silence was no longer comfortable or mutual.  He knew she’d suffered some sort of social fallout after that disastrous party, but he’d be damned if he was going to let anybody take advantage of her right in front of him.  He didn’t regret sweeping her away from Inuyasha and Kouga before they could take advantage of her drunkenness.  He also didn’t regret deferring her advances on him later that evening, as he’d had no intention of taking advantage of the situation, either – he generally preferred to have sex with willing, conscious partners, not ones who’d just blacked out from their drinking escapades.

He sighed, reaching up to close the door of her tea cabinet.  Somehow, it just wasn’t the same without her milling about, awkward strain or no.  He stood there for several moments, fingers latched around the knob, contemplating, analyzing.

I miss her, he realized, staring at the door of the now-closed cabinet.  Even the reassurance that she would eventually come back was not enough to ease the dull ache that had started to spread throughout his chest.  The realization stunned him:  how was it that he, who had consciously been a loner for the grand majority of his life, could actually miss someone?  Especially someone who had spent the last few weeks being irritatingly attractive and distracting, in the moments when he could least afford to pursue either avenue?

And yet, strange as it seemed, he realized that was exactly what was happening.  

He opened the cabinet, examining her collection of teas.  Boxes of tea bags were stored haphazardly on the top shelf, while tins of loose leaves cluttered the bottom.  It was a veritable cornucopia of choice, all major types represented – from their native green tea, to English breakfast tea, to Chinese oolong, to flavored teas from Europe.  Exotic herbal infusions were also tucked away in their own corner.

Before he realized it, he was holding an almost-empty box, a familiar fragrance drifting up to his nose.  Peppermint.  He rifled through the bags, jarring the leaves further, strengthening the sweet scent.  It enveloped him, and for a moment, he felt undeniably happy – and strangely melancholic, all at once.

Silently, he moved to the stove, setting her kettle ablaze.  He prepared his cup as the water heated.  He hadn’t made tea for himself in a very long time, but the routine felt as oddly comforting as it did rusty.

He sat at the table a few moments later, staring into the middle distance as the tea steeped.  I wonder where she went, he mused to himself.  I wonder when she’s coming back.

He sipped the hot liquid slowly, savoring the minty coolness that coated his tongue.  Somehow, drinking her tea was alleviating the sting of her absence.  It was hard for him to pinpoint exactly why it bothered him so much that she was gone, and so suddenly.  Was it because she’d reacted as any normal person would have to his callous words?  Was it because he’d expected her to stand up to him instead?

Or was it because she’d left without telling him?

As if he had a right to know.  He didn’t own her.  He wasn’t really even friends with her.

He just…lived with her.

And now, as he sat there in the dark, he realized just how alone he was without her.

She ran.

In retrospect, fleeing had probably been a stupid move, but she felt like she had no other choice, given the circumstances.  Her emotions were running high after their fight, and her rush of goodwill towards him had so been thoroughly crushed by his rejection.  Her poor heart (or was that her pride?) couldn’t take any more, so she ran.

Kagome sighed as she stared into her cup.  The only place she could go was to her family’s home; since they were preparing for their annual ski trip, she had no choice but to accompany them.  Her mother refused to let her sit home alone for Christmas, no matter how much she desired the time and space to deal with her dejection in peace.

So here she was, at one of the swankiest seen-and-be-seen ski resorts in the country, situated on one of the northern islands of Japan.  One of the reasons she was reluctant to return was because she was tired of this scene, with its abundance of posturing jerks and snottily vain divas.  Reputation was paramount, as were family and societal connections:  the power of a family’s name determined their prestige, their place in the hierarchy.

The Higurashi name was, as of yet, unsullied, in spite of her mother’s hasty remarriage and her grandfather’s declining health.

Needs more alcohol, she mused, watching the chocolate swirl around in her mug.  They didn’t serve tea at this resort – only coffee and hot chocolate, luxurious winter beverages.  After a hard day on the slopes, skiers apparently only wanted something either sickeningly sweet or terrifyingly bitter to quench their thirst.  Tea was the common man’s drink, and her obsession with it was her own little rebellion.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join us?”

Her mother’s voice broke through Kagome’s muted reverie.  She glanced up to see her parents and little brother standing before her, decked out in the latest and greatest ski gear.  This being an annual family outing, they were all excellent at the sport, enjoying the challenge of the black diamond trails.

“I’m sure,” she replied, giving them a weak smile.  She sucked at anything that required more coordination than moving her body to the beat of a song.

Her mother placed a puffy, ski-gloved hand on her shoulder.  “I’m glad you decided to join us after all, but I hate seeing you just sitting around all the time,” she said gently.  “You will tell us if something’s bothering you and ruining your fun, won’t you?”

“Of course, Mama,” Kagome replied, patting her mother’s hand.  Meaning, of course, that I won’t.

“Good,” her mother murmured, straightening once more.  She sent the rest of their family ahead of her, giving a cursory glance around the room.  “If you’re going to stay in the lodge all day, why don’t you make good use of your time?” she suggested.  “There are plenty of young men from the most eligible families hanging around…”

Kagome gave her mother a tight smile.  “Sure,” she agreed, swirling the mug in her hands again.  I’d rather die than go out with any of these losers, she vowed silently, her smile frozen in place as she waved goodbye to her mother, who was finally leaving to conquer the slopes herself.

It was pathetic, really; she’d run away from campus to escape from her frustration, to leave her roommate and her hurt feelings in the dust.  So why was it, now that she was halfway across the country, that all she could think about was him?  

It had been almost a week since their last conversation, but the sting of his words still resonated in her mind.  “You’re a sweet kid, but not my type” – God, was there any worse way to be rejected, than to be told so plainly?  And on top of the humiliation she’d suffered from Kouga’s outburst, no less!  Geez, he really knew how to pick his moments, didn’t he?

And yet…

…there was some small piece of her that was unwilling to give up on him just yet.  He likes you, that little voice whispered to her in the back of her mind.  Actions speak louder than words.  What about Halloween – that look was no lie!  And he let you kiss him – that has to mean something!

She still wasn’t sure what to make of that one-sided kiss that night on the sofa.  He’d never actually acknowledged it, so still she wondered:  was he even aware that it had happened?  He had been asleep, after all.  It would make his warnings to leave him alone seem less cryptic – not to mention, her own actions less pathetic – if he didn’t know what she’d done.  But he struck her as the type of person who was always keenly aware of what was going on around him, whether he chose to formally acknowledge it or not.

What can I do to prove to him I’m more than just an insipid little girl? she wondered morosely, again tipping her mug and watching the grainy mixture ebb and flow.  

Maybe there was no use in fighting it: crushes always won out, in the absence of solid evidence.

“Oh, God,” she mumbled, covering her face with her hands.  I’ve truly done it this time – reached new depths of pathetic ridiculousness!  I can’t believe I actually think I have a chance with him!  And yet…I can’t stop wanting him, no matter how hard I try!  She could feel the flush of embarrassment creeping unabated up the back of her neck, even as she sat there in a room full of nominal acquaintances.

“Well, this is a surprise,” mused a wry voice, piercing through her emotional rumination.  

Kagome froze, absolutely mortified that someone was observing her tiny display of personal meltdown.  Slowly, she eased upright once more, glancing cautiously over her shoulder.  Her eyes widened and her heart stopped as she took in the full presence of the man standing there.

“Oh my God!” she gasped, unable to hide the sheer shock that scored her spine.  “What are you doing here?!”