InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity ❯ Fallout ( Chapter 32 )

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

Soft voices came to Kagome, shuffled through her clouded mind as though she wasn't really there at all. Try as she might to stay blissfully unaware, she could feel the tug of consciousness pulling her back to reality and out of the comforting arms of oblivion. With a soft moan, Kagome slowly opened her eyes.

"Oh, Kagome!" Mrs. Higurashi breathed out as she kissed Kagome's forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"I've felt better," she remarked ruefully as she gingerly put her hand to her aching head.

Kagome struggled to sit up. Her wrist throbbed where the panther youkai had dug in his nails. She shivered as she deliberately shoved those memories out of her mind. A sound near her closet made her glance over. InuYasha stood, a guarded, confused expression on his face. The flood of memories came back with a vengeance, and Kagome didn't think, she just reacted.

With a muffled yelp and wild, fearful eyes, Kagome pushed herself back against the headboard as though she wanted to crawl through it. The desire to escape his probing stare was a palpable thing, and she threw herself into her mother's arms. Hot tears fell from her eyes as she tried to stave them back. Mrs. Higurashi held onto her, rocking her like she was a child, and, as she glanced at InuYasha, she jerked her head toward the door.

Kagome's eyes were squeezed shut as she fought back frightened tears. She missed the raw pain on InuYasha's face. His shoulders slumped, his ears flattened, and his hands balled into fists and jammed deep in his pockets, he left.

"I'll get you something cold to drink," Mrs. Higurashi said as she headed out of the room after giving Kagome's hand a gentle squeeze. "And a bath. Yes, that should help."

Souta sank down on the side of the bed and idly traced the pattern of the machine stitching. He wouldn't look at her. "You're okay, right?" he finally asked.

"I'll be fine," she assured her brother. She reached out to touch his arm. He jerked back and shot Kagome an angry look. "Souta?"

"Why did you scream at him, Kagome? Why did you cry?"

She frowned in confusion even as she sank back, burned by her brother's angry tirade. "Who are you talking about?"

"Who else? Inu-no-nii-chan!"

The sudden flash of his claws raced through her mind again, and Kagome recoiled. "I'm tired, Souta," she muttered weakly. The claws descended in her memory again. She flinched.

Souta snorted. "You're going to make him leave, aren't you?" He got up. "Sometimes you're so selfish!"

She watched her brother go and drew a ragged breath. Something wasn't right, and she knew it. It seemed as though she had a lifetime of memories thrown at her all at once. She really had no idea how to make sense of them. They didn't have a particular rhyme or reason, just existed to her like disparate images with only herself as a common link.

And yet . . . and yet, in those same memories, InuYasha was always there.

Kagome crawled out of bed and stumbled toward the bathroom. The warmth of the water permeated the air inside with a moist heat. It soothed her nerves, and she sighed softly as she stripped off her clothes and dropped them in the hamper before sinking into the tub with a small moan of satisfaction.

As though snatching at the remnants of a dream, Kagome fought for elusive understanding that lay beyond her reach; the knowledge of what had happened in her past teased her unmercifully, her altered memories taunting her with their deliberate disarray. When she'd gotten her memories back, they'd been so jumbled and so rapid that she'd not had any sort of chance to make any sense out of them at all, if there was any to be had. Letting her head fall back against the cold tile wall, Kagome's eyes closed as she let the memories come again.

This time, all she saw were all flashes of InuYasha. A million times he'd turn to stare at her with a different expression, with countless different emotions. He'd yelled at her, fussed at her, argued with her. Did it matter how many times he grumbled or muttered about something she had ask him? Yet in every vision, one thing was always constant: he always wore a red outfit.

`The fire rat robe,' she realized slowly. `The one he gave me.' It was the significance of the expressions on his face, the light behind his eyes. The words he'd never spoken, the idle moments when he thought no one was looking. How many times had he stood there in the distance, staring off into space and idly touching that necklace?

Kagome's eyes flew open, and she gasped, sitting up straight as she felt the color drain out of her face. That necklace . . .

She pulled the beads out of his hand and clutched them to her chest. "They hurt you, didn't they? The beads . . . you used to have . . . they hurt you."

The look on his face had been melancholy, as though, no matter how much pain there may have been, it didn't even begin to compare with whatever had been happening inside his head. She hadn't understood that, at the time . . .

"And you've never had anyone to love? Where is she now?"

"She . . . She forgot about me, about us."

Kagome reached out and caught his tear with her index finger.

"Why did you do that?" he asked, his voice soft, full of confusion and wonder.

"Mama always said that if you catch the first tear, your wish will come true."

"What did you wish for?"

"I wished that she'd remember you."

"Kagome . . ."

She dragged off the necklace and shoved it into his hand. "You wanted these before, right? Because they remind you of . . . her . . . don't they?"

That expression . . . She couldn't get that expression on his face out of her mind. The woman he loved, the one who had forgotten him . . .

"Why do you get that look on our face? Why do you look so lonely? It's that girl, isn't it? The one who forgot you? It's all right. You don't have to say. I see it in your eyes sometimes; when you think I'm not looking . . . . If she came back . . . if she remembered . . . I know you've said you'd stay with me, but if she came back, if she made you happy . . . I'd want you to be with her."

Her mind slowed to a crawl as two things became shockingly apparent to her. Firstly, no matter what that particular memory meant, the InuYasha she knew wouldn't hurt her, ever. Would she have gone anywhere with him if he really had tried to hurt her? Secondly . . .

A slow smile rose to her lips and spread, lending a bright sparkle to the depths of her brown eyes as tears suddenly welled up. "He loves . . . me."


InuY asha dug his claws into the roof as he struggled to stave back the desire to stomp into Kagome's room and somehow make her understand. He sighed as he hung his head. As if he could do that to her. Wasn't that the reason he hadn't told her everything before?

Why did she fear him? She'd never been afraid of him before. If she had recovered her memory, how could she even think it for a second? Surely she would have known from those images alone that he'd never hurt her? Didn't she know from their time together since she'd forgotten that he never would?

"Damn," he muttered, resisting the desire to slam his fist through the roof. He'd gotten what he'd wished for, so many times. She remembered. He never thought that he'd ever see that sort of fear in her though, and that he, apparently, had been the cause of it . . .

He let out a pitiful growl. As though he couldn't stop himself the sound came of its own accord from somewhere deep inside him. It was a sound of lamenting. In all the times he had imagined Kagome remembering, he'd always hoped that she would turn to him with that smile so full of her heart, the one that lit her entire being from the inside. He had never thought that it would be like this.

A low whine greeted his ears, and InuYasha hopped down from the roof, lighting on the ground beside Dammit. "What are you doing here?" he asked the dog though his tone held little real reproach.

Dammit stared up at him with sad eyes. Her head was bowed in deference, and her tail wagged once. Gingerly, she lapped the back of his hand, telling him that he was not alone.

InuYasha wandered slowly over to the base of Goshinboku and sank down, leaning against the sturdy tree. Dammit curled up beside him, her head in his lap. She whined a few times, obviously picking up on his own feelings of sadness. `Her-r-r hur-r-rt Lor-rd Dog,' Dammit remarked.

InuYasha sighed and patted the dog's head. `It wasn't Kagome's fault. She can't help what she remembers.' Was he trying to convince the dog or himself?

Dammit growled fiercely but didn't lift her head. InuYasha knew the sound. He tapped her nose in rebuke. "No, Dammit, I've told you before. Kagome's special to me. You can't harm her."

She stared at him almost belligerently. Finally, though, she heaved a sigh and let her head flop back into his lap. `Her not hur-rt Lord Dog anymor-re.'

He let his head fall back against the tree as the image of Kagome's terrified face flashed through his mind again. He grimaced. Even the few times he'd lost control and had transformed into a youkai, she hadn't been afraid of him. When Miroku, Sango, and Shippou had been fearful for their lives, Kagome had come to him, had forced him to remember himself. In so many ways he owed her his life. She'd saved him in every single way that someone like him could be saved.

And now she feared him.

He could feel the tears poking at his eyes and tingling his nose. They wouldn't come. As though someone as pitiful as he was didn't even deserve the comfort of the emotional release, his eyes were hot, dry, gritty. He'd never felt so alone.

`I should get out of here before Kagome sees me from her window and freaks out again,' he thought with an inward flinch. The last thing he wanted was to cause her more pain.

InuYasha stood and started to head toward the gate that led into his forest. Dammit walked next to him, her pace matching his.

A sudden gust of air, the whisper of Goshinboku . . . InuYasha stopped and turned back. As if the tree was speaking, he frowned as he stepped closer.

The first time he saw her, he was still pinned to this very tree, InuYasha thought with a sad smile. Kikyou had sealed him. Kagome . . . Kagome had set him free. Everything revolved around her. She was everything he knew, everything he dared to hope for. He'd defied time to be with her. But would she even want him? And could he stand to see that awful fear in her gaze?

`What do I do?' he asked Goshinboku. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, asking the tree for help. InuYasha didn't care. He had no answers left.

`Faith,' the tree whispered, leaves shifting in the gentlest breeze. `She comes with light.'

"She comes with light," he repeated softly, unable to grasp the meaning behind the words that had been whispered in his mind. Kagome was his light. What did it mean?

The soft hand on his shoulder gave him pause. The direction of the blowing breeze had allowed her to sneak up on him. The hand was supple, tender, a hand he knew. Spinning around to face her, Kagome didn't smile. She stared at the ground. He could smell her misery, could taste the salt of her tears without having to see them. Then he realized something else.

She wore the fire rat robe.

"InuYasha . . . I'm sor—"

Before she could finish her sentence, he dragged her into his arms, relief washing over him in waves. The sudden action stilled her words. He held her close, eyes closed against the magnitude of emotions that crashed over him. She started to apologize again. His arms tightened around her, just enough to silence her. She held onto him, as though she was afraid to let go, and he held her with a the fierceness that he fought to control but could not.

"You remembered," he finally said, breaking the fragile silence.

She nodded against his shoulder then shook her head. "I did, but . . . None of it makes any sense to me. It's all confused . . ."

"Give it time," he said, feeling stupid for not being able to help her more.

She leaned back enough to gaze up into his eyes. "InuYasha . . . what happened to Sango and Miroku?"

Loathe to cause her more pain and yet unable to keep this from her, InuYasha steeled himself to tell Kagome what it was she wanted to know. "Shippou said they were happy. He said Sango bore Miroku many sons . . . and a couple of daughters."

Kagome smiled though she still looked sad. "I miss them."

"Sango said to tell you that you not to forget her or Miroku."

Tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked quickly to hold them back. He caught the one that escaped on his finger and licked it off. Kagome frowned. "InuYasha?"

He could feel embarrassed heat filter over his face. For her, he answered her unasked question. "I wished that you'd smile again, Kagome."

He didn't miss her quickly indrawn breath. She threw herself against him, holding him as his arms wrapped around her again. `I'd give anything,' he thought wildly, `just to hear her laugh.'

"Take me away from here?" she asked, her voice barely audible. "There's too many memories: the tree, the forest . . . and the well . . . I need to think, and I don't know if I can do it here."

Her voice was so hopeful, so trusting . . . InuYasha nodded, unable to deny her anything she asked for. "All right."