InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Gather Up Our Hearts And Go ❯ Gather Up Our Hearts And Go ( Chapter 1 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Resmiranda 
What happens after love ends? A present for Rumdiculous.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological / Drama | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 05.14.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.0K | Visits: 2.3K | Status: Completed
What happens after love ends? A present for Rumdiculous.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological / Drama | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 05.14.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.0K | Visits: 2.3K | Status: Completed
Title: Gather Up Our Hearts And Go
Fandom: Inuyasha
Rating: R
Pairing: Kagome/Naraku
Words: 754
Summary: The last twist of the knife.
Author's Notes: For my darling Rumdiculous, who kicks ass but ran out of paper to keep the names on.
You win a while, and then it's done -
Your little winning streak.
And summoned now to deal
With your invincible defeat,
You live your life as if it's real,
A thousand kisses deep.
- Leonard Cohen, A Thousand Kisses Deep
Gather Up Our Hearts And Go
And so, for now, she loves his back.
The rest of him makes her sick, but his back is a beautiful sight, because it means that he is leaving, and she loves him when he leaves. That isn't enough, of course, but it's a start.
One day she will kill him.
But for now, she loves his back.
..o..
There was mud when they died, more mud than she had ever seen, churned into black clumps and saturated with the iron smell of blood, and each one of them looked so surprised to be dead that she almost laughed at the cosmic joke. But she didn't.
And she didn't cry, either, because he wanted her to.
..o..
And so, for now, she loves his frown.
He doesn't like it when she turns away. Bruising fingers always bring her back, leaving green and purple paths across her chin, but it is worth it to see him unhappy. In those moments shadows bloom in his eyes, and they are so pale compared to the darkness inside him that they shine.
One day she will kill him.
But for now, she loves his frown.
..o..
He is obsessed with her heart, with her lost purity, with her lost love, just as he was obsessed with the one before her, that his own heart could not let go. Her heart is his favorite part of her, and when the end was over, he reveled in its emptiness, in the aching loss that lived inside it. And, after a while, she understood why.
Things lost hurt more when found by others, and he aches to destroy the things he covets so that he will never be tempted by them again.
Sometimes she does, too.
..o..
And so, for now, she loves his mouth.
It is actually quite beautiful, delicate and gentle when it wants to be, which is almost never. When he is inside her, he likes to hear her cry out and it doesn't matter to him if it is from pain or from pleasure - but sometimes his lips brush against her skin, tugging away the suffering with the soft scrape of his teeth, and she moans with relief.
One day she will kill him.
But for now, she loves his mouth.
..o..
She doesn't know how long she's been here, nor how much longer he will be amused. The windows are barred, and she lives in the spaces between them. It is never really light here, but at night, there is sometimes the moon.
And when the moon is new she cries, and he licks away her tears.
..o..
And so, for now, she loves his hands.
He seems to like her hands, too, and their fingers play together, a sweet, idle meandering, twining, knotting together, unraveling again, a strangely innocent exploration. And when his hands wander elsewhere, become practiced and knowing, she imagines that their odd, innocent curiosity still lives on. She likes to be discovered.
One day she will kill him.
But for now, she loves his hands.
..o..
Her love. That was always her strength, or so she was told - that was where all her power came from, born deep in the thorny folds of her heart, an unstoppable tide whose undertow would sweep her out to sea if she weren't careful, which she wasn't.
Now all she loved is gone.
..o..
And so, for now, she loves his face.
He has begun to sleep beside her, and she can see his haunted, hunting dreams pass across his features. And even though she likes that he that he must suffer through them, she loves that he is still capable of suffering even more. Somewhere deep inside him, he is still alive, and she thinks, maybe, she is too.
One day she will kill him.
But for now, she loves his face.
..o..
And where does love go after it is over?
Dry and desiccated, she tastes her sandy heart, sucks the last few drops of water from it.
And then, very gently, passes it from her tongue to his, and he drinks from her, a dying man.
..o..
And then one day, the tide comes in.
..o..
And so for now, she loves him, and in his own horrible way, he loves her back.
He loves all the things that she has lost, loves the way her sorrow stings her eyes, loves her body beneath him, loves her quivering cries.
And so does she.
She finally loves him enough to kill him, and after he comes, she will.
But for now, she loves him back.
Fandom: Inuyasha
Rating: R
Pairing: Kagome/Naraku
Words: 754
Summary: The last twist of the knife.
Author's Notes: For my darling Rumdiculous, who kicks ass but ran out of paper to keep the names on.
You win a while, and then it's done -
Your little winning streak.
And summoned now to deal
With your invincible defeat,
You live your life as if it's real,
A thousand kisses deep.
- Leonard Cohen, A Thousand Kisses Deep
And so, for now, she loves his back.
The rest of him makes her sick, but his back is a beautiful sight, because it means that he is leaving, and she loves him when he leaves. That isn't enough, of course, but it's a start.
One day she will kill him.
But for now, she loves his back.
There was mud when they died, more mud than she had ever seen, churned into black clumps and saturated with the iron smell of blood, and each one of them looked so surprised to be dead that she almost laughed at the cosmic joke. But she didn't.
And she didn't cry, either, because he wanted her to.
And so, for now, she loves his frown.
He doesn't like it when she turns away. Bruising fingers always bring her back, leaving green and purple paths across her chin, but it is worth it to see him unhappy. In those moments shadows bloom in his eyes, and they are so pale compared to the darkness inside him that they shine.
One day she will kill him.
But for now, she loves his frown.
He is obsessed with her heart, with her lost purity, with her lost love, just as he was obsessed with the one before her, that his own heart could not let go. Her heart is his favorite part of her, and when the end was over, he reveled in its emptiness, in the aching loss that lived inside it. And, after a while, she understood why.
Things lost hurt more when found by others, and he aches to destroy the things he covets so that he will never be tempted by them again.
Sometimes she does, too.
And so, for now, she loves his mouth.
It is actually quite beautiful, delicate and gentle when it wants to be, which is almost never. When he is inside her, he likes to hear her cry out and it doesn't matter to him if it is from pain or from pleasure - but sometimes his lips brush against her skin, tugging away the suffering with the soft scrape of his teeth, and she moans with relief.
One day she will kill him.
But for now, she loves his mouth.
She doesn't know how long she's been here, nor how much longer he will be amused. The windows are barred, and she lives in the spaces between them. It is never really light here, but at night, there is sometimes the moon.
And when the moon is new she cries, and he licks away her tears.
And so, for now, she loves his hands.
He seems to like her hands, too, and their fingers play together, a sweet, idle meandering, twining, knotting together, unraveling again, a strangely innocent exploration. And when his hands wander elsewhere, become practiced and knowing, she imagines that their odd, innocent curiosity still lives on. She likes to be discovered.
One day she will kill him.
But for now, she loves his hands.
Her love. That was always her strength, or so she was told - that was where all her power came from, born deep in the thorny folds of her heart, an unstoppable tide whose undertow would sweep her out to sea if she weren't careful, which she wasn't.
Now all she loved is gone.
And so, for now, she loves his face.
He has begun to sleep beside her, and she can see his haunted, hunting dreams pass across his features. And even though she likes that he that he must suffer through them, she loves that he is still capable of suffering even more. Somewhere deep inside him, he is still alive, and she thinks, maybe, she is too.
One day she will kill him.
But for now, she loves his face.
And where does love go after it is over?
Dry and desiccated, she tastes her sandy heart, sucks the last few drops of water from it.
And then, very gently, passes it from her tongue to his, and he drinks from her, a dying man.
And then one day, the tide comes in.
And so for now, she loves him, and in his own horrible way, he loves her back.
He loves all the things that she has lost, loves the way her sorrow stings her eyes, loves her body beneath him, loves her quivering cries.
And so does she.
She finally loves him enough to kill him, and after he comes, she will.
But for now, she loves him back.