InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Fleeting ❯ Broken (Interlude) ( Chapter 16 )

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

un_love_you prompt:  #10 – “I’m broken.”

The Kübler-Ross model describes, in five discrete stages, a process by which people deal with grief and tragedy […] after suffering a catastrophic personal loss.

Sesshoumaru sighed, eyeing himself in the bathroom mirror.  Thank God it’s over, he thought to himself, splashing his face with cold water.  This has been the worst week of my life…and finally, it’s over.

He gathered his belongings and left the men’s room, heading down the hall to his thesis advisor’s office.  He’d never been so grateful in his entire life to turn in a damn paper as he was with this one.  It had sucked away the better part of the year, completely destroying his social life, but he kept telling himself that the end result would be worth the sacrifice.  Slowly but surely, he was making progress towards his goal – in many ways, this was the opening salvo in his master plan.

Turning in this thesis would grant him a master’s degree.  That degree, in turn, would translate into a job – mostly likely at a rival company to his father’s, which suited him just fine.  His father was being an ass, striking him down at every turn, withholding the company that was rightfully his to inherit in the first place, hence the need to have a master plan at all.  When he finally snagged the position he desired, then he could strike, brokering a hostile-if-necessary takeover of his father’s holdings.

It is my destiny, Sesshoumaru thought as he knocked on his advisor’s door before sliding it open.  It is my destiny to fight my father – and win.  I would have it no other way.  

His advisor nodded in acknowledgment of his presence and waved him in.  Sesshoumaru walked over to the desk, sinking gracefully into the chair opposite this so-called expert of the field.  Said expert hastily concluded his phone conversation, quirking an eyebrow as he took in his student’s slightly disheveled appearance.  “You okay?” he murmured, settling back in his chair.

“I’m fine,” Sesshoumaru returned flatly, digging into his bag for his work.  “Just glad to have this damn thing finished.”

His advisor chuckled.  “That’s always the way,” he drawled, a small smile curving his lips as the hefty stack of papers landed on his desk.  “Is this your final version?”

Sesshoumaru eyed his advisor carefully.  “Unless you have further suggestions for revision,” he ground out.  

He watched as his advisor glanced through the manuscript he had spent the last day and a half single-mindedly slaving over, before lifting his gaze to meet his student’s.  No doubt he was taking in the evidence of strain and stress that marked his features – tiny tell-tale lines around his eyes, the thin line of his mouth, the slight paleness of his cheeks – all signs he had noted himself in the bathroom moments earlier.

You’d better think twice about making me write this over, he threatened silently.

His advisor put the paper down on his desk.  “And your internship applications?”

“Done,” Sesshoumaru replied, reaching into his bag for the thin sheaf.  He smoothed his thumb over the staples, silently reassuring himself he had brought the entire batch, before handing them over.

“Mm hmm,” his advisor mumbled, his eyes lighting with rampant curiosity as he rifled through the pages.  His gaze flickered back to Sesshoumaru when he came to the last one.  “SHK, eh?  How very ambitious of you.”

Sesshoumaru shrugged.  “What’s the point in applying if you don’t aim for the best on the first round?”

“Considering your background, I can’t imagine you’ll be at the top of their want list,” his advisor mused.

Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes as he studied him.  “I relish such a challenge.”

“Words straight from your father’s mouth, no doubt,” his advisor said with a grin.  “Speaking of which, are you planning to apply at your family’s company as well?  Or do you not have to go through the formal process like the rest of the grunts?”

Sesshoumaru bristled, sitting up straighter in the chair and leveling an icy glare at his advisor.  “No, I am not looking within my father’s company for a post-graduate position,” he informed him.  “There is little to interest me there.”  His hand fell to the strap of his bag beside him.  “If we’re finished here?”

His advisor quirked another brow and reached for his calendar.  “The only thing left is scheduling the day of defense for your thesis,” he murmured, flipping the pages.  “The end of April okay for you?”

Sesshoumaru allow the quiet suggestion to roll through his mind.  Application interviews started the first week in May, so it would be a load off his shoulders to have everything finished for his degree.  Three weeks wasn’t much time to prepare…but then again, it wasn’t like he had much else going on in his life at the moment.  “That’s fine,” he replied.

“Good,” his advisor pronounced, scrawling his name down for the twenty-ninth and handing him a reminder slip.  “I’ll email you if there are issues with the paper, but I’m not anticipating any.”

Sesshoumaru’s hand closed around the paper.  “Good,” he returned.  “Neither am I.”  

He stood, looping the strap of his bag over his shoulder before bidding the man farewell and leaving.  He ignored the sea of people that met him in the hallway, a nearby class having just let out, and pushed his way out of the building.  He was halfway to his car before he realized he was outside, and his shoulders sagged in some version of relief.

It’s done.

He climbed into the driver’s seat of his car and laid his arms on the steering wheel, resting his head against the sun-warmed leather as he waited for the others who were bustling about to leave, so he could avoid the tangle of traffic.

It’s done.

A comfortable numbness settled in his chest.  He always thought he’d feel ecstatic after turning in his thesis, like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.  After all, wasn’t this the hardest part, completing his education?  He was more than qualified for any job he now deigned to apply for, and with his cool self-confidence, he’d never stared down an interview he couldn’t ace.

So what was this?  Why did he not feel any better about things, now that his plan had finally been set into motion?

Because of her…

Nonsense, he thought, straightening, shutting out the niggling little voice in the back of his mind.  That relationship ran its course, ending just as you knew it would.  He ground his teeth as he turned the ignition, a memory of that ugly confrontation assailing him.  The roar of the engine brought him back to the present, and he glanced up into the rearview mirror as he prepared to leave.  His hand froze as it found the gearshift, his eyes sweeping over the blanket that had been haphazardly draped over the backseat.  A vision of the previous Halloween floated to the forefront of his mind, and a rush of protectiveness washed through him as he remembered – laying her almost unconscious body across the seat, covering her with that very same blanket, bringing her home after a disastrous party…setting into motion the chain of events that led him to this day, sitting out in the university parking lot, feeling melancholy on what should’ve been a triumphant occasion.

“Hmph,” he grunted, shaking his head to clear the memories.  He maneuvered out of the space and set off, keeping pace with the inner running commentary.  She means nothing to you.  It was an unfortunate dalliance that ended disastrously.  An opportunity missed, yes, but do you want to be with someone who won’t trust you, who will take the word of your bastard half-brother over you, who will willingly believe the worst about you, who won’t even attempt to understand your motivations for the things you do – or don’t do?  You gave her a chance, and she blew it.  You tried to protect her, and she threw that away like so many petals on the wind.  You can’t trust your heart to someone who’s so unsure of herself and of her place in your life.

He pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex.  Don’t make such a big deal out of that ugly scene.  Yeah, she cried when you told her who she was really dealing with, but was that really a surprise?  The fact that you’re still able to live with her following all of that is a testament to the fleeting nature of the relationship.

He shrugged as he entered his apartment, instinctively locking the door behind himself before heading for his bedroom.

If you were really in love with her, it would hurt.  You feel nothing.  You are around her constantly, trapped between the four walls of this tiny apartment with her, and you feel absolutely nothing.

He threw his bag on the bed and sank down at his desk, pushing his hands through his hair.

It’s done.

He turned his attention to his computer, going through his mail and checking on a few of the places he’d applied for internships.  Soon enough, his stomach was growling, demanding his attention, an instant reminder that he hadn’t had any breakfast.  He’d been so focused on polishing the paper that he’d forgotten to eat…which was rather unlike him.

Now, as he made his way to the kitchen, he tried to focus on cataloguing his meager pantry.  The last week had really blurred together in his mind, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to the shops.  Hmm…

He stopped short at the juncture of the common room and the kitchen, his heart taking a painful beat.  Kagome stood by the stove, looking very small and vulnerable, her arms crossed over her chest as she stared down at her tea kettle.  He was caught by surprise when she suddenly turned to face him, as if she’d heard his approach – and his abrupt halt.

“Sesshoumaru,” she murmured, her tone surprised.

His name barely registered in his mind as he gazed at her, taking in her poorly guarded expression, fraught with anguish and despair.  The look in her eyes alone was enough to cut straight through him, slicing through the welcome numbness, prodding at something buried deeper in his heart, his gut, his mind.

He swiftly turned, closing his eyes and clenching his fists as he went back to his room, hunger forgotten.

It’s done.

She didn’t know who to be angrier at:  Sesshoumaru, for withholding information from her; Inuyasha, for outright lying to her; or herself, for falling into their deadly web with such blissful ignorance.

Kagome burrowed into her mattress, curling into a tight ball, not caring that the sheets twisted uncomfortably around her legs in the process.  She’d spent much of the last three days in bed, unable or unwilling to get up for much beyond immediate, necessary function.  She had no motivation to even get dressed, much less go out and face the world – or her roommate.

Her ex.

Her love…

Her chest constricted and she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing back the tears that threatened to rage forth for the umpteenth time.  Why did he keep it from me? she asked herself morosely.  He’s not an idiot!  Couldn’t he see the consequences of that decision?  Why didn’t he just tell me from the start what was going on?

She wanted to hate him, to loathe him and spite him and have the higher ground to be righteously indignant at his treatment of her.

But she couldn’t.

At some level, this mess was all her fault.

Of that she was now painfully aware.

What if he had told you? she asked herself.  Can you honestly say you would’ve done everything the same?  No.  You saw what happened to your mother after your father died.  You swore you’d never get yourself into that same sort of situation.  If Sesshoumaru had been honest with you, upfront, about his intentions for your family’s company, you would’ve run screaming in the other direction.

So, in a way, she had come to understand the convoluted logic behind him keeping his mouth shut.  Of course, that all hinged on the idea that he wanted to be with her for reasons related to her instead of her personal stake in her family’s business, something she was very much doubting at the moment.  He had been so cool, so calm, so collected the last time she’d seen him – he might as well have been a block of ice for all the emotion he shared during that ugly confrontation.

If the idea of breaking up with her bothered him, he didn’t show the first sign of it.  

But then, that was just par for the course, right?  He’d never so much as even come close to confessing any feelings of love – or even regard – for her while they were together, and of course the lack of physical intimacy was what had led to the explosive end of their relationship in the first place.

Hell, he was probably over it by now – and she could be angry with him for that.  How could he have such firm control over himself, effortlessly rebuilding those barriers she’d worked so hard to break down, while she dissolved into a blubbering, angry mess?

Even with all of that, however, she couldn’t blame him for the aftermath, for her own reaction to learning just who her friends truly were.  No, for that – she could only blame herself.

The irony was bitter.  She’d worked so hard to protect herself, to learn from her mother’s mistakes, that she didn’t see the noose until it was already around her neck.  After her father died, his friends and enemies had come out in swarms to collect some piece of his business, some of them even stooping so low as to curry favor with her mother to get the best deal.  Only her grandfather’s foresight had kept her mother from making a huge mistake while so vulnerable – even though she did eventually marry one of those competitors a few years later.

After witnessing the hell her mother had gone through, Kagome was determined to never experience it firsthand.  Her relationships were frivolous at best:  sometimes quick and painless, sometimes with a wisp of commitment, but she had never risked her heart.  She moved in a social whirlwind, with countless acquaintances but few close friends.  She’d dated frequently and had sex casually, and a breakup had never affected her like this one.

If she was truly, deeply honest with herself – and, after three days in bed with only her miserable thoughts for company, she was well there – she could admit that being in love had scared her.  As much as she ached for him (God, still), she had never pressed the issue – she’d wanted his body, but had never demanded his love.  Maybe some tiny part of her was afraid of finding herself in that same situation as her mother, giving away her heart only to be so callously used in return?

Instead, she’d acted like an idiot; a total, selfish bitch.  Instead of addressing her issues with Sesshoumaru, she’d run off to Inuyasha for comfort, and had fallen headlong into the very trap she had always been so fearful of.  She hated herself now for being so blind to it, after spending nearly five years looking over her shoulder for any and all signs of ulterior motives.

And she was angry at herself for so thoroughly misjudging Inuyasha.  

She didn’t know what to think of him anymore.  He’d be so…open…with her that she couldn’t believe it had all been a sham.  Was he clever enough to feign everything – his concern about his place in his family, his uncertainty about his future after being uprooted from his homeland, his fierce protectiveness and seemingly genuine affection for her?  For it to have only been a thin façade that she couldn’t see through at all…?

No.  It couldn’t be.  He didn’t seem capable of such complete and utter ruthlessness, not even in his darkest moments of jealousy.

She’d read the files, so many times that the facts of his life were practically burned into her brain.  He’d resisted coming to this country after his mother’s death, preferring instead to stay with his French grandparents, wanting nothing to do with the phantom father who hadn’t bothered to visit him during his childhood.  What, exactly, had changed in that scenario that he was now here, apparently working under his father’s tutelage, abiding his every whim?  

It just didn’t sit right with her…

…not that she felt much sympathy for him now, not after playing his part to perfection in destroying her relationship.

“Come on, Kagome, talk to me,” pleaded the voice at the other end of the line.

“What do you want?” she sighed, already regretting even answering the phone.

“I’m worried about you,” Sango replied, her tone hesitant.  “So’s Inuyasha.”

Kagome bit back a snort.  Oh, I’m sure he is, she thought darkly.  I hope he’s squirming with fear that I’ve discovered his little secret.  He’d been calling her on and off for the last two days, but she’d been tacitly ignoring him.  Any texts he sent her were immediately erased, unread.  The only reason she’d even answered her cell this time was because Sango’s number had popped up.

Maybe a little girl talk would be comforting for a change.

“Look,” Sango said, breaking into Kagome’s brooding thoughts, “I’m not sure what happened between you two, but I do know that I haven’t seen you in almost a week, and that’s scary.  Inuyasha told me you’re cutting classes, too, so I know something’s wrong.”  She paused, before tentatively voicing her next thought.  “If you aren’t willing to tell him, maybe you’ll tell me?”

Kagome rolled on her back, staring up at the ceiling of her room.  It was true; after a few days of pure, unadulterated anger, she’d lain in bed feeling horribly drained and depressed, spending more time asleep than awake, as if she could escape from her misery simply by being unconscious.  This wasn’t exactly the most fortuitous time of the semester to have a breakdown, what with final exams rolling up and all, but she found herself completely uncaring.  There was only one person in the world she wished to see – and even though he was only separated from her by one thin wall, it felt like they were on completely opposite sides of the world.

If Sesshoumaru even noticed that she hadn’t been outside of her room or the bathroom in the last week, he didn’t deign to acknowledge it.  And that hurt far more than it should.

“Kagome?  Are you still there?”

She sighed.  “Yeah, sorry.”

Sango was quiet for a moment.  “Your silence scares me, Kagome,” she admitted softly.  “What happened to that fun-loving and cheerful girl I met on New Year’s Eve?”

“She found her limits,” Kagome replied mournfully.  “Even she can only stand having her heart stomped on so much before she breaks down and hides from the world.”

Another pause stretched between the girls before Sango spoke again.  “I’m coming over,” she announced.

“What?!” Kagome cried, sitting bolt upright in her bed.  “Now?!”

“Yes, now,” Sango replied.  “I need to see for myself that you are really okay and not about to slit your wrists or something.”

“But – ” Kagome began, her mind whirring for an excuse to keep her at bay.

“But nothing,” Sango interrupted firmly.  “I promise, Kagome, I only want to make sure you’re okay.  I’m not doing this on anyone’s behalf but my own.”

“So you won’t mention any of this to Inuyasha?” Kagome asked warily.  I want to deal with him on my own…but not just yet.  I won’t be making that impulsive mistake twice!

“I won’t even tell Miroku,” Sango vowed.

“Okay,” Kagome relented, barely registering the sigh of relief on the other end of the line.  “Give me an hour, all right?”

“Done,” Sango agreed.  “See you then.  And the first thing I’m going to do is give you a great big hug, so be prepared!”

That made Kagome crack a smile, her first in quite some time.  “Thanks,” she murmured before hanging up.  She put the phone on her bedside table and sighed, trying to find the motivation to actually get up, to take a shower, to get dressed.  She sat quietly, listening for any signs of her roommate, but after five minutes, only silence met her ears.

She slipped across the hall and showered quickly, the warm water and comforting scents of her shampoo and body wash reviving her somewhat.  Returning to her room, she threw open the curtains, allowing the afternoon sun to filter in as she picked around for something comfortable to wear.

This is good, she told herself, slipping into a pair of well-worn jeans and a long-sleeved, loose t-shirt.  Seeing Sango is good.  She’s a girl; she’ll understand.

It had been a long time since Kagome had actually had a female friend to talk to; most of the girls in her social set didn’t want anything to do with her, viewing her as competition, at best.  If only they realized she wanted no part of that never-ending drama…

I should make tea, she suddenly thought.  That will make me look like a functional human being who’s seen the light of day more than once in the last week.  Before she could change her mind, she charged into the kitchen, pulling down her kettle and rifling through her tea cabinet for something muted, yet cheerful.

Lemon, orange, passionfruit… She wrinkled her nose, reaching further back.  Chamomile, spiced apple, peppermint…

The kettle was almost ready, just under the point of whistling, and Kagome gratefully stepped back, folding her arms over her chest as she eyed the swiftly heating water.  Peppermint tea brought back memories of that winter afternoon, when he had fallen asleep on the common room sofa and she had kissed him for the first time.

Oh, God, what I wouldn’t give to go back to that point, she thought, a wave of sorrow washing over her.  That little moment of time, when she’d first realized that she felt something more for him than idle lust, when she could still hold out hope that maybe one day, he’d feel the same way about her…

She turned suddenly, and there he was, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, as if he had been summoned by her thoughts.  For a moment, she could only stare, biting her lip to hold the flood of emotion at bay.  

“Sesshoumaru,” she said, almost helplessly, unable to peel her eyes away.  

Please…

He merely gazed back at her, his expression carefully blank.  Time seemed to stand still as they regarded each other.  Her heart took a painful beat as she silently pleaded with him to respond, to break through the sudden haze of tension that filled the room.

Instead, he turned away, closing his eyes and clenching his fists, leaving without a word.

Something shifted in her then, and suddenly she couldn’t stop the tears that spilled over her cheeks.  Mechanically, she reached back to turn off the stove, her hand shaking terribly.

I thought I was past this part, she thought mournfully, staring at the steaming kettle.  I thought I’d cried myself dry already.

God, if only he’d said something…

The insistent buzzing of the doorbell brought her back to the present.  She took a deep breath, but found it didn’t really help ease the frustrated, needy longing that had blossomed from the very core of her being.

The bell rang again, followed by a short, firm knock.

Kagome slowly made her way down the foyer, feeling as if she was moving through mud, reaching for the lock as the knocking grew more insistent.  She opened the door and fell into Sango’s arms, clutching at her like a lifeline, an anchor in a raging sea.

“Oh my God,” Sango breathed, catching her friend easily and pulling her close.  “Oh, Kagome, what’s happened to you?”

“You have to take things one day at a time,” Sango advised her.  “Get through the first day, then the next, and slowly things will get better.”

Kagome sniffled, brushing away an errant tear as she sat up in her bed.  It had been almost two weeks since that day, when Sango had proven just what a wonderful, generous, and valuable friend she could be.  After letting her cry on the stoop, she’d led Kagome into the kitchen and prepared a pot of very strong Earl Grey tea.

They then proceeded to have it out – all of it – over the course of that afternoon and much of the evening.

Sango had listened carefully, trying to help her friend navigate through the story in the midst of her overwhelming emotions.  Somehow, relating the entire, sprawling mess as best she could to another person had helped her gain more perspective on the whole matter; it certainly helped that Sango hadn’t bothered trying to defend Inuyasha for his actions, even though she had been friends with him for much longer.

“I don’t understand it, either,” she said, furrowing her brow.  “That just doesn’t jibe with the Inuyasha I know.”  She shrugged, giving Kagome’s hand a reassuring pat.  “But I can understand why you don’t want to speak with him, much less see him right now.  I’ll tell him to back off.”

“Thanks,” Kagome murmured, squeezing Sango’s hand gratefully.

“You know what else I don’t understand?” Sango mused.  “How can you stand living here with Sesshoumaru after all this?”

Kagome shrugged.  “That’s the funny thing, really.  This is his apartment; I’m technically subletting half of it.  But he’s hardly ever around anymore, at least that I can tell.”  She looked down at her hands.  “I hate that he’s avoiding me.”

“Yeah, that is pretty weird,” Sango remarked in response.  “Like, he’s letting you have run of the place, instead of kicking you out.  I mean, could you say you would’ve done the same, in his place?  I know I wouldn’t – if Miroku ever pissed me off that badly, I’d kick his ass to the curb!”

Kagome gave a small smile.  “Yeah, same here.”

It was niggling little thoughts like those that had kept her from absolutely wallowing in despair.  She finally found the strength to face the world a few days after that conversation.  She’d gone back to her classes after missing them for a week, grateful as well that Inuyasha gave her a wide, silent berth.  Whatever Sango said to him must’ve been powerful, for he even stopped calling and texting incessantly.

It wasn’t easy; she still felt mostly numb when she was at home.  She spent most of her time in her room, if not in her bed, still trying to escape through sleep.  Her schoolwork barely held her attention; not even the oncoming wave of stress and anxiety that always accompanied finals could fully pierce the veil of depression.

But each day, it got a little easier.  From the depths of that loneliness and insecurity arose a hidden strength of resolve, one she had long ago feared lost.

Have you really forgotten your New Year’s resolution so easily? she reminded herself, putting her feet on the floor and pushing up from the bed.  It’s barely been five months, and you’re ready to give up?

She slipped into her bathrobe and plucked her towel from the hook on the wall.  Nobody ever said it would be easy.  If it was easy, it wouldn’t have been a resolution – something to work on, get better with.

She indulged in a long, leisurely shower, relishing the feel of the warm water in her hair, on her back, washing away the darkness of the night.  She was almost back into her old routine, when getting out of bed in the morning and getting dressed didn’t feel like monumental personal achievements.

It was small, but it was a start.

She returned to her room, changing into fresh, clean clothes, and gazed out of her window as she brushed her hair, her eyes sweeping over the grassy expanse behind her building, where wildflowers were beginning to bloom.  She smiled slightly as the breeze gently shifted through the plants, lifting their petals high as if in greeting to her.  The longer days, filled with sunlight and warmth, had also helped her general mood.

As was the fact that she was still there, able to stand by this window and look out on this scene.

He’s let you stay here, she reminded herself.  He hasn’t antagonized you, or left passive-aggressive notes about your annoying habits, or reported your tendency to feed the stray cats that hang around here to the landlord.  He’s allowed you to stay, and that means…he doesn’t loathe you.  Maybe he doesn’t love you or need you or want you, but he doesn’t hate you, either.

She rested her forehead against the sun-warmed glass, closing her eyes and breathing a small sigh.

It was small, but it was a start.

“If you love something, you have to set it free,” Sango advised her.  “If it’s really meant to be, it will come back to you, and happen in its own time, of its own accord.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Kagome snorted.  “I mean, no offense – but you’ve always struck me as someone way too practical to rely on such romantic clichés.”

Sango grinned, a slight blush burnishing her cheeks.  “You’re right,” she laughed.  “I guess this is what I get for hanging around my boyfriend so much.  Miroku’s a double major in religious studies and psychology.”

Kagome gave her a startled look upon that revelation.  “That’s an odd combination,” she remarked.

Sango shook her head.  “Odd,” she agreed, “but at the same time – strangely comforting.”

Kagome straightened, giving herself a firm shake.  She left her room again, this time heading for the kitchen and some morning sustenance.  Of all the advice offered to her on that distant day, this was probably the hardest piece to take.  Even after almost a month, her love for Sesshoumaru hadn’t faded, only strengthened; her needs hadn’t abated, only worsened; her longing hadn’t diminished, it only became more fortified.

She’d never felt this way before about a man:  like all the pain and suffering would be worth it in the end, like all the agony she’d gone through the first time around had been worth what little closeness she’d won (breaking through his self-imposed barriers) and the fleeting moments they’d shared.  She wanted to push – to force the issue, to cling to those memories with all her might, to wear him down and have him again – but all the same, she realized that wasn’t the way.  When pushed, he turned away; when forced, he shut down; when clung to, he withdrew; when worn down, he was miserable and aloof.

More than anything, she wanted him to be happy.

And if that meant setting him free, relieving him of the obligations that accompanied her love…

You won’t lose him forever, she reminded herself, settling at the table with her favorite cup as she waited for her water to heat.  He hasn’t completely turned away.  You’ve been through too much together.

The thought was oddly comforting.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to lift her spirits and help her face the day.

Sesshoumaru sighed, wiping the steam away from the bathroom mirror.  Focus, he commanded himself as he filled his toothbrush.  You’re one step closer.  You know this material, and you will ace this – as long as you stay awake.

The last three weeks had passed by in a complete blur.  He’d spent most of his time at the library, rereading his sources, padding out a very thorough, thoughtful presentation, making sure he had all corners of his thesis defense covered.  Not that there was any rest for the weary – he still had finals to get through, and then came the long rounds of application interviews.  In many ways, this defense would be a trial run for the next few weeks, a chance to practice being at the top of his professional game.

He finished up quickly in the bathroom, striding with purpose back to his own room, the opening lines of his oral arguments running through his mind as he dressed and groomed.  He then busied himself with his notes, making sure they were in pristine order before packing everything into his bag and checking, one last time, that everything was in place, and he hadn’t forgotten anything important.

If his father had taught him anything, it was that perfection was in the details.

He grabbed his coat and bag and headed for the kitchen, also fully aware that he needed to eat before facing down the thesis panel.  His advisor was hardly the only hardass in the department; his entire committee would be champing at the bit to have a go at him.  It was a given that he’d face even tougher questions than his classmates; it just came along with the territory of the Taisho name and reputation.  There was something in it for them, as well, in awarding him this degree – notoriety was very much a two-way street.

“Good morning.”

The soft, lilting voice shattered through his thoughts, bringing him up short.  He glanced over at the kitchen table though he was already halfway to the cabinets, utterly shocked to see his roommate sitting there.  He swallowed convulsively, his hands tightening around the strap of his bag.  He’d been studiously avoiding her for the last few weeks, telling himself it was for his own good, to concentrate on his defense and the rest of his academic work…but as his eyes swept over her small yet calm form, he had to admit to himself that there was more to it than that.

“Good morning,” he returned, turning away, still intent on making himself a very quick breakfast.

“Would you join me for some tea?” she asked quietly.  “Please?”

Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea! screamed his inner voice.  Concentrate!  Focus!  Thesis defense, remember?  In exactly two hours?

“Fine,” he replied, schooling his features into an impassive expression before turning back and joining her at the table.  He studied the fine grain of the wooden tabletop as she made his cup, silently preparing himself for another onslaught of emotion, as had happened the last time they were in the same room together for more than five minutes.

Instead, she surprised him, merely leaning back in her seat and turning her gaze to the window, silently sipping from her own steaming mug.

He furrowed his brow slightly, but relaxed his guard and reached for his cup, encasing its warmth in his hands.

“You’re certainly dressed up today,” she said after a long moment, her gaze still averted to the window.  She pulled her lower lip between her teeth.  “Something important going on?”

His heart beat heavily in his chest as he watched her, his eyes moving away from her mouth to trace the sweep of her hair over her shoulders.  “My thesis defense is in a few hours,” he replied softly.

“Wow, already?” she mused, her voice turning hollow, her expression saddening a bit – no doubt she was remembering the last time they’d discussed his thesis, in quiet, teasing tones between kisses in the basement of the university library.  His stomach clenched as the memory of that night floated unbidden into his mind as well – “I just need a few more hours here, I promise.  Then I’m all yours.”

Fuck, he realized, his grip tightening around his cup.  I still am.

He hadn’t wanted to admit it before, but it was only becoming more painfully obvious with each passing second:  

He’d spent the last month lying to himself.

He’d thought he was over her.  He’d thought that he was past this.  He’d thought that if he focused single-mindedly on the master plan he’d so carefully crafted, funneling all of his anger and aggression into elaborate schemes for getting back at his father and brother, that he could completely ignore the fact that she was still around, hovering in the periphery of his life.

Yet, if that was the case, then why did he feel like it was taking every fiber of his being to not reach out for her in this moment, to curl her close and breathe in her wonderful scent and find solace in her lavishly unrestrained embrace?

“Good luck,” she said, abruptly bringing him back to reality as she turned to face him, a small but genuine smile curving her lips.  “Not that you’ll need it, of course.”

“Thanks,” he replied from behind his cup.  The lemon tea was quite stringent, but not enough to clear the sudden haze of longing and regret that clouded his mind.

What’s done is done, he told himself, taking a long sip.  Accept it and move on.  She isn’t the one.

“Listen, Sesshoumaru,” she began, before taking a deep breath.  “I just wanted to say – I understand.”

He lifted an eyebrow as he regarded her.  “Oh?”

She nodded, almost sheepishly.  “I’ve had a lot of time to think lately,” she continued softly, “and I understand why you’re applying for that position in my family’s company.  I just wanted to tell you that I won’t stand in your way.”  She lifted her eyes to his, latching onto his gaze.  “But I won’t help you, either.”

He shifted his hands into his lap, clenching them into tight fists in order to stay the urge to reach for her.  “I never wanted you to,” he replied smoothly.  “I never had any intention of using you.”  He shrugged.  “Whether you believe me or not, I – ”

“I do,” she broke in, her gaze searing into his, leaving him without a doubt that she spoke the truth.

His nails dug into his palms.

“That’s why I hope – we can still be friends?”

He was caught off guard by the uncertainty in her voice.  “Of course,” he assured her with a small smile.  “After all, we have to find some way to live together, right?”

She granted him a true smile then, wide and bright and full of achingly sweet relief.  “Right,” she returned, sitting up in her chair.

They gazed at each other for a long, silent moment.

“Let me make you something to eat,” Kagome offered abruptly, standing up.  “You need more than just tea before facing the firing squad.”

Before he realized what he was doing, he swiftly reached out, taking her wrist as she turned to walk away.   A jolt of heat shot down the length of his arm, scorching every nerve ending along the way, and suddenly he felt more alive than he had in months.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

Her expression was unreadable as she looked at him.  “Well, what are friends for?” she replied.

Right, he thought as he let her go, watching her as she fluttered around their small kitchen.  Friends.

It was only when he had arrived on campus an hour later, two steps away from the building that would prove vital in his very near future, that he realized that the weight had finally lifted from his shoulders.  He felt triumphant, free – and relieved.

“You’ve got this,” he assured himself as he pushed through the double glass doors without looking back.