InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Ukime no Sekisetsu ❯ Fly ( Chapter 3 )

Ukime no Sekisetsu: Part III - Fly

 

If I ask her to stay, and she does not want to stay, I will lose her. But…if she says yes, and lets this be home, she will always be near me.

 

Sesshomaru's thoughts wandered back and forth, trading between yes and no. He was sure that the secret in her cure was her self. She gave of herself freely, and did not mind being so open. Or perhaps…she did not know?

“Sesshomaru?”

Where had she come from? It was not good to have thoughts so distracted he could not sense the miko…Kagome.

 

I must ask her. She will stay.

 

“Come with me, Kagome.”

If she stayed, she would reorder their lives, and make Kanna laugh, and Shippou smile. What would he do? The thought of the immense chaos that was coming made him absurdly happy. Was he smiling? He did not remember ever feeling this complete, not even in the days before agony.

 

I will bring her kimono, and painted screens. She will want books and brushes, paper and ink.

 

He scowled momentarily, as his thoughts skipped over all his memories of this woman and the girl she had been.

 

It is not fair that Inuyasha had her first. But…he is dead, and I am not.

 

Pity touched him, directing his attention back at Kagome. Without prelude, he reached for her hands and pulled her close. She relaxed, her limbs loose under his hands, and he held her in silence, drawing strength from her warmth, the scent of her skin. He would give her all the things women want; he knew well what they were, had seen the gifts his father made to that woman…and he had made sure that Rin had those things, and Kanna. Rin's eyes had sparkled with wonder at the shine on every surface. Kanna was…Kanna.

For a moment, he stopped breathing. The sound of his heartbeat was loud in his ears.

 

I think Rin, and it does not burn me. It is Kagome. It is her cure.

 

He did not know how or when it had happened, but he was grateful. Had she come to him, had he found her for just this reason? How could you repay someone for something as impossible, as personal as salvation? There was no coin, no equivalence. He owed her for the thought of that name.

 

Rin.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Kagome only resumed thinking after Sesshomaru stopped walking and stood still, many expressions that she did not understand moving across his face. She tried not to move too much. That he wanted her close to him she knew, even if she did not understand why, but…

 

He is Sesshomaru. I should have known to expect…anything.

 

She could feel his thoughts on her, even while he was so careful not to look at her that she could trace the line of tenseness in his neck with her eyes.

“Kagome.”

Her eyes lifted toward his face in question, and there was only seriousness now. Other, smaller emotions drifted across the back of his eyes, indecipherable.

“It has been twelve days since you came here, following me. Will you stay?”

She turned, and looked back at the house. The sun was clouded, the autumn sky dark and crinkled with white and grey layers. The garden that wrapped around the western side of the house glittered with oranges and yellows; a last few chrysanthemums straggled by the sides of the well tended path. A bridge zigzagged over a narrow stream, led to the smaller contemplation garden. The house was long and tall, lit within and without by candles and lamps. The sound of Kanna's harp snuck out into the air, and then faded.

“I will stay, Sesshomaru. If you stay.”

His eyes lit like liquid gold. She had been the first to hold him, to reach out and touch him - she reminded him sometimes of that woman, with her smallness, her pale, brilliant beauty. The way she applied a cooling salve to the open wound that was his youkai soul. In her brief moments of meekness, like now, she seemed swallowed by the voluminous silk of her undyed haori, the raw red silk of her hakama.

Darkness pushed into his thoughts, pulling on the sheltered desire that she awoke and fed when she touched him. Her warm weight, her shoulders under his hands soothed the raw edges of guilt, and snuck deeper than he was prepared for. He wanted her touching him, the cool strength of her fingers with their bowstring calluses; he wanted her wrapped around him, like before.

For a moment, straying, his thoughts enveloped her in a sheen of desire. Wrapped around him, yes, but without the silk. He caught himself smiling grimly into the air. This was how his father had been trapped, but…

Kagome was no longer human. Neither was she youkai, but she could not even speak of herself as human any more. Was it the stain of mortality that had been washed from her, that freshened her scent to his senses? He bared his teeth. Her flesh under his hands was a tingle in all of his limbs.

Carefully, slowly, he bent his head, and then without regard; his nose led him into the soft pile of her hair, the scent enticing.

 

Orange blossoms…in autumn. How can she smell of orange blossoms?

 

His arms drew her close, closer, crushing her against his chest.

“Sesshomaru? Are you…alright?”

She had not spoken for a long while. Her voice sounded lower than he remembered it, richer.

“My thoughts were…wandering.”

In the space before he spoke that last word, many thoughts dashed across his mind and were discarded. How could he explain? A strong smile, close to a smirk, slickened her spine as it touched his lips. He loosened his hold on her just enough that he could brush the hair away from her neck, a swift motion that tickled her throat with claws.

After them came his mouth, taut with fangs. They dragged and caught on the softness of her skin, bringing tiny droplets of blood to the surface. Sesshomaru stood straight again, licked the drops of her blood from his teeth and waited, watching her. She did not pull away, even when her eyes were no longer hazy. It was good…not to be alone.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

“Why can't you look forward, instead of back? Why can't you let them go?”

“Shippou!”

A deep ache was reborn in her bones. She had promised that she would talk with him when she was settled, but he was so different than the kit she remembered who was always laughing. Looking at him now, she could not believe that these older features easily lifted into a smile. Perhaps it came from so long with Sesshomaru, a learned hardness - but how could he expect her to forget?

“Weren't they your friends, Shippou? How do you find them so easy to forget?”

His sigh of frustration was deep and hot.

“I would never ask you to forget them, Kagome. I do not forget either. But they died for you to live. You are not living…you are like Kikyou! Living but dead!”

His anger was bright, but her fury was brighter. Her slap echoed, a crack like a falling branch. Bitterness spurted out of her like arterial blood.

“You will not compare me to her! You will not!”

She could not stop shaking. She had forgotten…how much she hated that name. And even now…even now, she was still Kikyou!

“I should not have a life, Shippou, did you forget? I was human! That you stand here, taller than me, trying to be wise - that should not be! I should be dead, and I cannot die!”

He could not speak. The striking of her hand had stunned him, and it had not even really hurt. It had always been Inuyasha who hit him, and Kagome who protected him, but this…

She was staring now at her fingers, shaking her head.

“Do not try to bring back things that cannot be. What was…was. It is not, now.”

 

I have nothing left with which to begin again, Shippou, and there is nothing you can give me. The Kagome you knew is dead, as surely as this person I have become is alive, and has grieved at the difference. How unfair that is, even…now.

 

“Come, Shippou. Bring your koto, and I will play with you, if there is another koto somewhere in this house.”

From where he had watched, eyes burning and then relaxed, Sesshomaru stepped forward and stared after them. Despite her words, something of the past was being restored to her. It was good. She was better this way…and he had not known that she played koto. Slowly, he followed through the brown leaves. He would like to hear her.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Kagome began to spend the shortening days in the gardens, tending plants and preparing them for winter. The skies were dulling to a constant grey, and the brisk winds of autumn were giving way to the freezing winds of winter. Sometimes she stopped on the bridge to watch the light play on the water, or stared at the dark sky when night came and the stars flamed into life. She was confused by Sesshomaru's gift, this home, his unpredictable roughness and the grave chance of his smile.

And…what had that been, that touch - was it his demon version of a kiss? She had never been kissed before; the touch of his fangs on her skin was not what she expected, but she could not deny the heat that had shot through her veins. Still, she was confused, so she watched, and waited, and was tempted.

“Kagome.”
She jumped. She had been too deep in her own thoughts to feel him coming, and when she looked up she surprised tenderness on his face, his eyes soft on her.

“I am leaving now, Kagome. I will return in three days.”
A sharp memory of Shippou's words filled her.

 

Twenty years, and then another twenty…maybe more.

 

“You are…leaving?”

He nodded, silent, and she stood and stepped toward him.

“Then I am coming with you.”

She did not ask where, or why, or why he had not mentioned before now that he would be going away.

“No.”

Dark shutters had closed behind his eyes, blocking his thoughts away from her. Everything she had begun to suspect fluttered with a disrupted heartbeat. Silence swirled between them. There was no arguing with the blankness of his face, the coldness of his eyes. In the dimness of her feeling, she remembered what day it was that had come on her so quickly, and her thoughts flashed instinctively.

“You are going…and it is that time.”

 

Tomorrow is the day I was left alone. And now, you are leaving me alone?

 

A black shadow flickered across his face.

“Three days, Kagome.”

He turned, but her hand stilled him, and withdrew.

“I will not follow you, Sesshomaru, but I will be waiting.”

He walked out of the garden, and felt her eyes on him.

 

I am coming, Rin.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Kagome waited, sure every other moment that he would not return, and unsure of why it pained her so to think of it. It was not just that he knew of her strangeness and accepted it; there was more, something glittering in his face when he looked at her.

 

And he has not said a word. But why would he?

 

When she woke in the morning, she turned away from the windows. The sky was beginning to shade its autumn blue with winter grey, and at night there was a white-light color that did not change or flicker, promising snow in the long months to come. She sat at the end of her bed and watched the fire dance in the brazier on the other side of the room.

Shippou tried to draw out the Kagome they both remembered, someone who laughed, someone who was not guilty. Those feelings were dark in her, memories of happiness she did not feel she deserved.

 

And so…what I am doing here?

 

The silence of this house was beginning to disturb her. There was no sound from Shippou's koto, no echo of strings from Kanna's harp. Even the floorboards were silent, her own breath loud in her ears. The intensity of her focus made her aware of a whisper against the outside of the house.

 

Rain. Are you standing out there, Sesshomaru, standing in the rain? What are you feeling, now?

 

Yearning filled her, pulsing like a second heartbeat in her veins. She had thought she was beginning to understand him, but each movement he made in the span of her awareness was strange. Each word, each glance, each expression offered her change.

The night was long and empty. The cold silence had not changed, and it was hard to sleep feeling emptiness around her. In the villages, there were always people, and while she traveled there was wind and the hum of insects to keep her company.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

A deep fog of clouds hid the sky, turned the moon to a pale silver glow. The ground had already begun to turn hard, and only a few bedraggled leaves hung on dry branches. The wind blew everything into whispers.

“Rin.”

A hot, swollen lump of pain rose from his chest to his throat and stayed there. His eyes burned.

“I have brought the miko - I have brought Kagome home. She is not the same, just as I am not the same, but I cannot understand why. You loved her best, and she is still kind. She is…soft. I think…it is good, to have her near.”

Like an echo of something outlined in sunlight, he heard the laugh, saw the smile that he had missed.

 

For too long, there has been only blood. Thank you…Kagome.

 

“I do not know what it is that hurts her, but perhaps she is guilty because she could not protect her companions. Perhaps…vengeance is not enough for her?”

He turned his head to one side, contemplating this.

“I must find the reason why the pain is less when I am touching her, even if I cannot find the reason for the pain.”

 

You died, and that is the cause, but the source…

 

The source defied him, lurking in a place he would not touch, and he stared through the gathering darkness, keeping Rin company, guarding the sweet wine he had poured for her, the little cakes. Tomorrow he would go home, and perhaps Kagome would tell him why.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

In the morning, Kagome walked down the long silence of hallways and held her hands in her sleeves to warm them. The cold was beginning to seep into the air, and the bare sun did not do much to change that. The chill came in through walls and floors, and today the wind's breath held the memory of frost. Today was the first day she had woken to find everything lined with a rough sparkle of ice, the dried leaves frozen in wild patterns across the ground.

She watched Shippou walk out to sweep them off the long paths in the garden, the stiff leaf-skeletons brittle, and then wet as the morning's little gathering of warmth brushed the frost to dew. She looked up at the sky, grey and sunny and cloudless, and sighed.

 

Two days, and he said…three. Tomorrow, Sesshomaru.

 

She did not think he knew of the darkness that was engineered by his departure. In another time, another place, she had been the one who held things together, but here and now, it was Sesshomaru. Her coming had disrupted routines that were a hundred years established - and there had been that look on Sesshomaru's face, when she had told him - told him! - that she would follow him. Unsteady emotions and many strange days had made her forget that he was not one from whom you could make demands.

 

But he still does not know why he misses his Rin, and he has never considered…

 

“Kagome?”

Shippou stood outside the window through which she had been watching, a tall shadow with a jade glint of eyes.

“Kanna is working in the winter garden. She asked for you.”

A tiny flip of laughter swam up out of Kagome's throat.

“Did she really? That's good. I will go to her. What about you, Shippou?”

He shook his head - she could see it in his shadow.

“It is time for practice.”

She opened the window, and leaned out at him, making him jump back.

“Then you will come and practice in the windowed hall, so we can hear you. After all, I never expected that you would become a musician.”

Shippou started to smile, and then shrugged and turned away. She saw that his koto was already in his hand.

“Alright, Kagome.”

In the garden, everything was quiet. The arrangement of leafless cedar was flawless, the white aspens pristine, the sound of late autumn's wind through the bare reeds harmonious. She stopped for a moment, breathed the tight, cool air deeply. The ground was a flooded flame of bright yellow and deep red, crisp brown beneath. The night's frost was all melted away now, and the colors shimmered with the freshness dew gives.

The crunch of her footsteps brought a greeting, a pale head of hair rising from the ground.

“Kagome-sama. Thank you for coming.”

“Just Kagome, Kanna.”

The girl stared at her blankly, and she sighed.

“Well, at least it is better than `miko-sama'. What is it you are planting?”

“Snow flowers.”

She turned back to her small hole.

“They will tell us when spring has come.”

From the long row of slatted windows on their left came the sound of strings. Kagome smiled. For the first time, she saw the corners of Kanna's mouth lift, and many equally small expressions arranged themselves in her thoughts.

“How long have you loved him, Kanna?”

No real color flushed the girl's pale cheeks, but she stopped patting earth into place and became too still.

“Shippou-san only plays with me when Sesshomaru-sama tells him to. Or…you. I have loved him almost since we were first brought here, but Shippou-san can not forget that I am Naraku, not when that scent is still in me.”

“Kanna! You are not Naraku!”

Kanna stared straight ahead, her voice toneless.

“But I was made from him, and something of him remains in me. Shippou-san…he knows that, and he does not forgive me for it.”

They worked together in silence for a while, their mouths empty of words. The string-sound from the windows stirred the leaves that remained. After a while, Kanna spoke again.

“When Sesshomaru-sama is gone, Shippou-san is not happy, despite what he says. He does not like to be left behind.”

Kanna's eyes were soft whenever she spoke of Shippou - there was gentleness in her movements as she methodically planted the little seeds.

“Shippou-san loves you, Kagome-sama. Do you know that?”

She knew. His tenseness, his strangeness, the rough spots in his smile all had told her.

“He loves a memory of me, Kanna. The person I am is not that person.”

It was Kagome's turn to be silent, and the soft earth under her fingers was a chill reminder of the past.

“Kanna…the piece of Naraku that remains in you…I can fix that.”

An empty black energy ran out at her from Kanna's eyes.

“I cannot promise that it will not hurt, Kanna.”

“Anything…you can do, Kagome-sama.”

Kagome reached out and took her hands. A white light filled the clearing, radiating from the point at which Kagome touched the girl. She reached inward, inward, drawing out the power, and then leaned it into Kanna like a sword. She felt a black push that once had been familiar almost instantly.

 

Ah, Naraku…in all the world, you remain only here, but you cannot stay. It is time to let go, time to go. The long night of your soul is waiting.

 

Kagome fought with a great push against the material presence of her old enemy, and it was easier to vanquish than a bad dream.

The glare faded. Kanna looked at her own hands in wonder.

“I feel…changes. Thank you…Kagome.”

“I am glad I could help you, Kanna.”

There was a new gleam in Kanna's black eyes, a refreshed presence that looked out and smiled. Shippou's music had paused, and now resumed. Low notes like a waterfall of night rain slid over their ears, and Kagome walked away down the long path, breathing deeply.

The touch of Naraku had reminded her of the touch of guilt. She did not belong here; happiness would come here, and it was not for her. Quickly, while her mind was made up, she went back inside the house. An hour passed, and then she slipped outside again. From the garden, there came the sound of harp and koto. A smile ached on her face, and then she stole away.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

“Where is she? Where? Tell me - “

“We do not know, Sesshomaru-sama. Yesterday, she filled me with light, and then Naraku was gone…and then she was gone. Like morning dew. She did not say anything.”

Kanna's words were soft enough to cut through Sesshomaru's anger. He thought that it might have been the longest speech he had ever heard her make.

“And you, Shippou.”

A sharp-fanged kitsune face full of snarl stared at him.

“I played for them in the winter garden. There was light, white, then violet. The smell of Kagome's power, and then she came into the house. I stayed, and played - for Kanna.”

Pure, white fear was numbing Sesshomaru's fingers, dulling his vision. She was his cure, his memory, his Kagome. Didn't she know that?

 

Does she know, and not wish it? Does she still want only Inuyasha?

 

He had not thought this thought before. It filled him with pains sharper than blades and hotter than lightning. He wanted to hold his brother by the throat and tear the life out of him.

 

He is dead.

 

His face was liquid with emotion as he thought these things, and he did not know it. Shippou and Kanna watched him, awed and fearful.

“I am going to find her and bring her back. You - Shippou - make sure you stay.”

He saw the protest forming, cut it short.

“You must protect Kanna, guard the house, and wait. If she comes back, you must be here. You must tell her…I came back, today.”

He smiled. Shippou shuddered, a long, back tingling chill.

“She was afraid I would not come back. She said…she would be waiting.”

Sesshomaru turned on his heel and left them. Kanna stroked Shippou's arm with gentle fingers, and he turned to her.

“Your scent has changed, Kanna.”

He watched her face.

“I am sorry that I was so cruel.”

She shook her head.

“You were not cruel, Shippou, but…you were not friendly.”

She smiled. It was not something he had ever expected to see. She was pretty when she smiled. He noticed that she did not pull away, that her hands remained on his arm. He wondered what it was she wanted from him, really.

“Then I am sorry I was not friendly.”

He pulled her after him, and lit the lamps in the music room.

“Play your new feelings for me, Kanna.”

Her eyes were wild with shadows in the sparking lamplight.

“I will play you an old feeling. But then, what will you play?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Sesshomaru darted into the windless night like a black spear. It took him two hours to find her scent, and he followed it along the side of a stream and then across a narrow strip of grass that waved in the air like impossibly thin fingers, grasping at his legs.

On the grass, there was wind, cold and thieving. It stole the breath from his lungs and did not allow the feeling to return to his fingers. He found his fangs aching to hold her throat, feel her yield, make her submit.

If she told him in these ways that she was his, he would not need to think thoughts of lightning pain. Darker trees reached out at him with dry, crackling branches and long needles that caught the trailing strands of his hair. He moved through them carefully, and then the scent became warm, a presence instead of a lure. He slowed his footsteps, and blinked up at the sky.

A cold moon glinted overhead. The warm scent was leading him to a circle of moonlight in a circle of trees, and…she was there, standing, staring up at the moon. Quick footsteps brought him near enough to touch her.

She knew it was him, even before she turned to see. There was no one else with such a presence, no one else with such depths.

“Sesshomaru.”

“When I returned this morning I could not tell if my heart was still beating. Tell me, Kagome.”

He reached out and grabbed her hand, pressed it against his chest. Her voice was small.

“It still beats, Sesshomaru. You know that.”

He shook his head slowly, insisting.

“No…I could not tell. There is a name in my thoughts that burns my beating heart when I think it, Kagome. There is a name that is full of heat when I speak it…Kagome.”

She had begun to tremble, her fingers, her shoulders, the light in her eyes.

“I went walking through the western gardens, and the flowers had no color, and the sound of the stream was dull and flat. I went into the house, and the rooms were silent, and the halls were dark. In the south wing, the robes of a lady are waiting. The harp and koto are silent; Kanna still does not smile.”

Kagome did not move, did not speak.

“You must come back, Kagome. This…is wrong.”

This was Kagome, running away, Kagome, being swallowed by the wilderness, by the wide world, by the unknown. This was the dark weight that had settled in Sesshomaru's chest, and many unspoken words that were not unfelt.

Her breath straggled out of time; he was by her side in two steps, his hands on her shoulders.

“You are crying? I do not like you crying.”

The faintest hiccup of a laugh strained over her tears, and she shook her head fiercely.

“You are not supposed to care. You…do not care!”

As though she had shot an arrow into him, he staggered. She was still speaking, her words a stream of pains that he had suspected behind the sadness and the smiles. He did not hear her - his ears were full of a roar like the tide coming in.

 

What is the way to tell her?

 

It was as though the thought had been waiting for him to want it. The hands that had rested on her shoulders turned her. Before he could stop to think, he pulled her close, wrapped her in strength and warmth and silk. Her face turned up, her eyes questioning through the anger as he knew they would, and he bent, and kissed her.

It was barely a touch, his lips as faint as a breath of mist against her lips. Her tears dried; her trembling stopped. His tongue brushed across her bottom lip, and then he pulled away.

“Never say I don't care, Kagome. Come.”

As though it were decided, as though it had not begun as a plea, he said it - `Come'. Grey light spilled out of the sky and tumbled over the branches of sleeping trees, leafless. Kagome stood still for a long moment, tasting his kiss, and then took the hand he offered her, and followed.

She remembered the terrible loneliness that had filled her, three long days of waiting, sure that he would not return. She thought of Sesshomaru alone, standing on the bridge in the western garden.

Suddenly, she could not remember why she had left.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Her rooms were waiting for her as though nothing had happened, and nothing changed. On the night of the new moon, Sesshomaru asked her to meet him in the garden, and they stood on the little bridge over the shallow stream and watched the stars shimmer darkly in the water, while everything was draped in the shadow of the moonless night.

“Tell me, Kagome…”

His voice was heavy in the silence, tightening her senses with apprehension.

“Tell me…what is the reason my pain is less when I am near you? What is the reason for my pain?”

Kagome's eyes drifted up to meet his gaze.

“Because…you are lonely.”

He took a step away from her, towards the silence that covered the courtyard like mist.

“Lonely?”

He spat the word off his tongue like bitter acid.

“You were always lonely, until you had Rin. She was the one thing you had, the only one you cared for. And when she was taken from you, it destroyed you - it is still destroying you.”

Her eyes were burning him. He could not move to deny her words, feeling the whole world spin. The sound of that name struck him silent, held him still, and Kagome did not stop. Her words cut into him, sharper than knives.

“You loved her, Sesshomaru. Like your own daughter. And she is gone.”

He was shaking all over, legs and growl and fingers and face. Without a sound, he dropped to his knees on the cold ground, and bowed his head.

“Yes. It is true.”

The heaviness in his voice had become thickness. She could not see his face. She took one step forward, and then sank to her knees in front of him, pulled him close. Hungry, his hands, his arms wrapped around her and held tightly to her offered flesh. Slow and intent, he breathed the scent of her skin, the scent of her hair. Still, it was not comfortable.

She was too much smaller than he was. With two swift motions, he tumbled her and drew her up into his lap. Her cheeks fumbled with redness, and her hands slid over his fingers, pressing. He touched his lips to her neck and spoke against her skin.

“You must stay here. You cannot go.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

The habit of the long nights bordering winter became easy for all of them when Kanna took to playing for them behind her favorite screen. The change in her was bright and obvious, her eyes lively with dancing emotion, her wit quick and sharp. Sesshomaru had taken only a moment to approve the sudden prettiness of her smile; Shippou was warmer now, but did not completely understand.

Kanna played a sad song now, telling the tale of a spirit maiden saved by the coat of her lover from washing away in the rain. The lover of the maiden sickened and died, suffering from illness caused by the cold rain he had braved for her. The harp sighed and wailed the lament of the maiden; into the silence of the last few dying notes, Kagome spoke lowly, waking old ghosts. Her eyes made slashes in her face that neither male could interpret.

“Sometimes, I remembered you, Sesshomaru. At the beginning…when I still stayed in the village. Sometimes I stood at the graves, and wondered why you had left tetsusaiga.”

She held up a hand to stop him even as he made to speak.

“You do not need to tell me. I already know.”

Two halves of a smile that did not match flowed over her face.

“It was…not your sword.”

Shippou did not like the silence of voices and the speaking of eyes that passed between them, and broke it open.

“Where did you go after you left the village, Kagome?”

Sesshomaru's stabbing glance told Shippou that his challenge was understood, and interpreted, and that battle was joined. Shippou smiled to himself, remembering, and then softened that smile just a little, for Kagome.

“I traveled north. East, west, everywhere…but never south. I have not been back to the village since the day I heard word that they were beginning to build a shrine near the well.”

A dull expression of horror commingled with confusion on her face.

“Can you imagine? The shrine I grew up in, being built because of me? As a shrine…to me? For me? I never did know which.”

Sesshomaru watched her with dark eyes.

“Tomorrow, Kagome, the moon is full. Come out to the garden, at the third hour after moonrise.”

He rose, and left the room. She stared after him, knowing she would go, knowing she wanted to be close to him, knowing…she did not know why.

­~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Sesshomaru came out to the silent garden, and expected to wait for her. Instead, he saw her standing on the little bridge, her hands wrapped around the railing and her eyes pointed down at the cool flow of the stream, slow now in the freezing night. Soon it would not move at all. Soundless, he approached her, and stood close, waiting for her to turn. She didn't.

“I'm sorry, Sesshomaru. I came early of my own will; I was not trying to catch you out.”

He did not really understand what she meant, but it didn't matter. He had not been sure she would even come. His suspicions were often precise, but Kagome was…unpredictable.

“Kagome.”

He seemed content with the utterance of her name, and a comfortable silence wrapped around them. She was used to it now, this desire of his to be close to her, and she did not usually push with questions, but he had been so specific that she was curious.

“Did you ask me to come out here for a reason, Sesshomaru?”

His eyes looked down and across at her, and she was sorry for a moment that she had asked.

“Do you really want the answer to that question?”

Something that had lurked in the back of his voice stroked her, teasing with a heat that could become arousal.

“I…yes.”

He turned, and pulled her hands off the rail, and into his hands, through them. His fingers slid up her arms and onto her shoulders, pulled her close to him. His mouth found her mouth, his teeth pulling gently and then not so gently on her lip, his tongue sliding over, soothing. When her eyes drifted closed, and her hands crept up to tighten in his haori, he pulled away, and stood silent by the railing where he had begun.

Shaken, Kagome touched the fingers of one hand to her lips and clutched the railing in her other hand.

“That…is why? To kiss me?”

She could barely even whisper it, felt the flush crawl over her skin and was grateful for the concealing darkness. Sesshomaru growled, a long, low sound. When he looked at her, his eyes were luminous, searching, hungry.

“No.”

The one word was full of many things. Ideas crowded her head, the thoughts and sounds of two bodies in darkness. Desire reared its head in her, a demon of her own. While she thought those thoughts, she could not look at him.

“Sesshomaru…”

She looked up, and he was looking down at her, and the expression in his eyes had not changed.

“It is cold, Sesshomaru.”

He took her hands, and pulled her close. He was always warm; the cold did not touch him, the wind did not bite.

“You should be inside.”

They did not speak after that for a long while. They stood in silence, and then Sesshomaru touched her arm, pulled her attention away from the star-strung water.

“I wanted to thank you, Kagome. For giving me back the whole memory of Rin, for giving me…a reason. Even if I did not want to believe you.”

He grabbed her arm, held her tightly.

“It was my penance, don't you see? My penance for being a demon.”

His smile was wild, all fangs. The Inu glimmered in his features.

“But she should not have paid! She…my…Rin.”

Kagome touched his cheek, and he faded. The bright amber light of his eyes glinted lowly, like dull gold.

“I will tell you something about Rin, Sesshomaru. Miroku told me that one who suffers greatly through acts of goodwill, one who makes great sacrifices, does not need many lifetimes of trial to reach bliss. And I remember her smile, not only her death.”

She pulled him out of the dark, and he came with her.

“Until I had you, Kagome, I did not remember smiles, or laughter.”

He remembered what it was he had wanted to do to her, and the thought of her white skin was still enticing, but his words claimed her and she did not reject them. Was she still human? Could he give her more than words, and not destroy himself utterly?

 

She would not even suspect that I might not pull away, that I might…pull closer.

 

Touching Kagome was a mild pleasure that ran over his skin like electricity. He wanted more than the mere touching of her; he wanted the full sensation of softness, the scent of her imbedded in his every moment. He did not know what to do with his desire.

“Was there…something you wanted, Kagome?”

He was afraid of the way she was standing, the tingle that brushed his nose from her scent, now. With a slow step, she walked toward him, and her hand slid between them, pressed against his chest, measuring his heartbeat.

“I also wanted to thank you, Sesshomaru.”

Her arms enclosed him; her head did not even reach his chin. He held her, and did not know what to do. Her breath was warm through the silk of his haori.

“Thank me?”

They were startled words. He didn't know what he could have done to earn her gratitude - hadn't he been the one who had come too late, the one who had not been able to protect?

“You saved Shippou. I don't need to understand. I am…just grateful. And…”

She shook her head, and stepped away. Color was rising in her cheeks, and as she turned to walk away he saw that her hands were shaking. Sesshomaru found himself full of the desire to take her hands, and still the trembling of her fingers with his own calm.

“Good night, Sesshomaru.”

He watched her walk away, a rustle of silk and swaying hips. The bound tail of her hair swung enticingly at the small of her back.

“Kagome - “

He stopped, even while she was turning back to look at him.

 

I cannot.

 

“Good night, Kagome.”

Silently, he stared into himself and tried to cut apart the thing that had made him stop her, the thing that had almost made him ask her to…what? He closed his eyes to black out the sight of her retreating across the narrow bridge. A soft vision of her, pale skin tumbled across the dark furs of his bed, filled the black space where his vision had been. He caught himself on the edge of a red-eyed pant, desiring suddenly to breathe the orange blossom scent of her hair from his own pillows.

A long shudder fled through his body. He stood still, staring at the dark shadows in the garden, beyond which she had disappeared.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

When the moon had waned to half of itself, Kagome lay alone in her bed and opened her eyes, staring towards the ceiling, the lines of its planks invisible in the darkness. She was not sure if these dreams were better or worse than the nightmares. She was wet with desire, tense with it, and it was too much. Why should be it Sesshomaru, of all people? It was not his tallness, the smooth sharpness of his features - perhaps it was the glow of his eyes. His touch attracted her, the firmness of his fingers, the way he had dragged his fangs across her throat so tenderly.

She had no illusions about the demon in him. His youki was strong, a vital influence that reassured her, made her feel protected. When he bent into her, breathing the scent of her hair, she could lean against him and feel relaxed.

A cold breeze darted through an open shutter somewhere, and down the long room to her bed. Moonlight showed silver highlights on the tall screens that partitioned the room, some folded against the walls, leaning. That day's kimono hung over one of them, whitely embroidered with naked winter branches, shining silver river, snow, trees leafed with icicles, a stand of winter reeds. She stared at it, metallic threads catching the silver light and throwing it back.

Abruptly, she threw off the cover and pressed the bottoms of her feet against the floor. None of these thoughts were helping the hot pulse between her thighs. Coldness seeped into her through the souls of her feet, but that did not help either. A frustrated sob escaped her, and turned back to her pillows, curling her body tight. Could she crush the desire out of herself, the want?

A long few moments snuck by. She heard the screen at the end of the room slide open, and did not move. They could think she was asleep, and leave her. The screen slid shut again. Kagome did not hear the footsteps crossing her floor; they were too soundless. Suddenly hands surrounded her, slid over her skin, and a gasp darted out of her throat. She wanted to cry, maybe, or scream. Why him, now? How many tortures was the world capable of devising?

“I could hear you, Kagome. What is your pain?”

A laugh that was also a sob slid out of her.

“Maybe it is you, you who are my pain.”

The room was thick with an arousing scent, her eyes black pools of want among the shadows of her bed. His strength was gentle, and he pulled her up. Sitting, she trembled, and the heat of her body was a taste in the air.

 

So she, too, desires, and could not move. If I had known what was hurting her, would I have come?

 

He had known this would happen; he was youkai. Being finally tempted, he could not step away. He bent and nipped at the curve of her ear. Kagome moaned, a sound that told him more than he needed to know, and he let his mouth wander freely, tasting the skin of her neck, her throat. She was still swaying; with no effort, he pushed her back onto the bed and lay beside her.

The shift she slept in opened easily to his hands. Without a word, he touched her, knowing, and her eyes opened wide. His fingers flickered over her, stroking the little round hardness that lifted her hips from the bed. Her hands crawled up his arm, tightening, and he pulled gently on the taut points of her nipples with his other hand. A new sound escaped her throat, something between a sigh and cry.

His fingers were wet with her, slid over her and dipped inside of her, until her thighs started to shake, her toes pointed, her nails became like claws in his arm. Sesshomaru bent to kiss her, slid his tongue across her tongue and swallowed the long cry that broke out of her. She was shattered under him, shaking in all directions at once. He held her, and she grew quiet, and did not speak. He wanted her so badly he could barely breathe, but it was not yet time. Without a word, he stood, and paced down the length of the room and out.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Kagome stepped into her morning bath and sat slowly. She was in a daze, had been in a daze. She could not convince herself that what had happened had been something real, not just another delirious dream. She washed herself without really paying attention, and then felt the water sting. Her fingers touched the tiny raised bumps of nicks and scratches on her softest flesh. Heat flushed her, remembering.

 

Not just fingers - claws. Touching me…

 

Wasn't it what she had wanted? Yes…and no. She slid under the water, wetting her hair. Her want had crystallized into a simple thing. What she wanted was his desire, for him to want her. How could you make Sesshomaru want you? She surfaced and stared across the surface of water in her bath.

 

There must be some desire in him, or her would not have touched me. And when he left -he only leaves like that when he is troubled…when he is feeling.

 

She stood up in her bath, and reached for the towel. He would come to her, soon; he had to. Dressing in kimono was impossible alone, and so it had become their little ritual. She would bathe, and dress in the short robe that was her undergarments, and he would come, carrying her robes. She was glad he liked to choose them - the room of kimono had shelves of boxes that stood ten feet high.

When she stood ready in the middle of her dressing room, he came, and laid the robes across the rack which was placed for that purpose. The first robe was deep red, the least ornate but with beautiful sleeves, and she only caught a glimpse of the others before he came close and started winding silk around her.

“Sesshomaru…”

His hands slowed, waiting to see what she would say. She turned, while his arms were occupied with silk, and the robe twisted.
”It is already time for bed, Sesshomaru.”

He was only confused for a moment. When it was time for bed, it was time for him to be undressing her, not dressing her.

“You just woke up.”

She stood on tiptoe, brushed her lips over his mouth. The silk he held in his fists was cut by his claws, and he let it go.

Quickly, easily, the single robe was unwrapped, unwound, unfolded. She shivered in her short, undyed robe. His hands slid along the edge where it was tied shut, and did not stop to untie. Without exerting extra pressure, his claws slid over the thin silk, and cut it in half, and then his hands were on her skin. He lifted her easily, and took her nipples in his mouth while he walked with her, through one half-open screen to her bed. On it, she grabbed up the topmost blanket and drew it over her body. She stared at him, waiting.

With deliberate slowness, Sesshomaru peeled apart the layers of his clothes. She was waiting, watching, but he was not concerned with her eyes on him; he knew females wanted him, loved him, sought to understand his distance. He did not mean to intrigue them so, but it still happened often…there had even been a human woman, once, who had wanted him so much that the mere reminder of him had turned her into a demon.

Kagome was licking her lips and did not know it, her hands tight and grasping on the cover around her. Without his haori, she could see the strength of him clearly, lean muscles defined down his shoulders, in his arms, his abdomen, his back. She liked to watch his back, the muscles moving so cleanly and then hidden by the silver swath of his hair.

Sesshomaru tossed his hakama into the same pile as his haori, and finally turned back to Kagome. She was staring at him, and the cover no longer hid her from his eyes. He tilted his head in the light, seeking her warmer curves. Her pupils were taut with memories of desire. With the surprise born of sheer speed, he toppled her, and tasted her. The heated scent of her body was beginning to hold his scent within it. Now, no one else would touch her.

 

Never, never, never…

 

Her nipples were dark points before his mouth found them, but she lifted herself to the slow pressure of his tongue. There was no longer hesitation in her, only the desires that sought him for fulfillment.

“Sesshomaru…”

It was the only word to leave her lips, a caress of breath that accompanied her wandering hands. Her eyes drifted shut, her mouth open for the rush of her lungs. It was suddenly he who was wanting her, a wide door within opened, the inner demon seeking to be sated.

He reached for her, opened her, entered her; Kagome shook, her mouth a wide `o', her fingers curled into his skin. To be inside her was to be delirious; a clear red haze covered everything, and he heard nothing but the cries, the moans he tore from her. He felt her closeness, the tightness gathering around him, in her legs, in her fingers. When it came she rocked with pleasure, couldn't move.

He felt wetness consume. His teeth sought the soft flesh of her breasts, pulling, sucking, biting; she matched him with her nails, her cries. Sesshomaru was youkai, and she was…other. Light began to rise off her skin, licking at him like fire. He felt the stroking of liquid power within her, taunting him with pleasure. It was a dance of purity and desire, a whirlwind of powers, but he had touched her before. He fell still, and she moved. The pressure began behind his eyes. Fully inside her he panted and howled and almost gave in; when he pulled away he took a deep breath.

Kagome was beginning to clutch at him again, pulling her hands up over his shoulders and down to his hips. Her fingers were never still, always clutching as if trying to hold on. She felt the change in his body, the sudden tautness of his thighs, the shake that began in his calves and ended in his teeth. It felt like he was growling, even while his tongue lapped around her nipple and her legs wrapped around his waist. He could not be deeper inside her. A white explosion ran up through all her nerves and rolled back her eyes.

Somehow, he pulled her close and fell on top of her at the same time. His lips found her ear, nipped gently, his hands stroking her back, buttocks, thighs. She lay still for a long time, breathing deeply. The long touch of his fingers, the tickle of his claws was soothing.

“If you do that, I will fall asleep, Sessho…maru…”

She could not finish his name without yawning. She felt complete, unhurt, not…guilty. Her eyes drifted closed as she watched pale flakes of snow begin to fall outside the window, and her thoughts were soft, and she slept. Perhaps half an hour passed, and Sesshomaru did not move, looking down at her and breathing her. When she stirred, and blinked her eyes open in a ray of sunlight that had snuck onto her eyelids, he was still watching her.

“You are awake, Kagome?”

“Yes…”

He rolled out of bed, and dressed swiftly. It made her wonder for a moment why it had taken him so long to undress, and then she flushed. Sesshomaru lifted her, blanket and all, and bore her through the house to his own rooms, which she had never entered. When he reached his bed, his unrolled her from the blanket, and she fell into the center of a pile of furs, and sprawled everywhere.
”Now you may go back to sleep.”

A few feet from the end of the bed, there was a desk with only one drawer, and he sat and began to pull out paper and brush. She watched him for a few minutes, but her body still felt heavy, and she pulled one of the furs over herself and dozed. Sesshomaru listened to the rhythm of her breathing, and when she was asleep he turned to look at her. The ink glistened in his words, clean black lines on thick, pale blue paper.

 

I suddenly remember the distance I must travel

I spring from bed and look out to see the time

The stars and planets are all grown dim in the sky

Long, long is the road; I cannot stay.

I am going away, away to the battle-ground

And I do not know when I shall come back

I hold your hand with only a deep sigh;

Afterwards, tears - in the days when we are parted.

With all your might enjoy the snow flowers,

But do not forget the days of our love and pride.

Know that if I live, I will come back again,

And if I die, we will go on thinking of each other.

 

It was not much, but it was the best he could give her. It had been a long time since he had written anything for anyone - he remembered suddenly the man he had paid to write a history for him; the history he had burned. Was he continuing that same story, now, or creating something new?

At the end of his bedroom was a tall cabinet, and he opened it slowly. Clothes he had not worn in a long time, armor that was unfamiliar now, stared back at him on its hooks, folded neatly on shelves. Kagome would remember him in these clothes - would they frighten her, or soothe her? His sword hung on the door. Slowly, he changed clothes, and felt like he was returning to a self that had been lost for ages. When he was dressed again, he moved forward, stopped at the side of the bed, and stared down at Kagome. She turned, and blinked once.

“S'homaru?”

He paused for another moment, and unwound the long fur that wrapped around him, a pelt of his father's. He tucked it into the curve of her body, over her shoulder and down her back, and bent to whisper in her ear.

“I cannot stay, and let them come to take you. Do not leave me again, Kagome. You know…I am coming back.”

It took a long while for all those words to sink into her thoughts, and mean something. When they did, she rubbed the last bit of tiredness out of her eyes, and sat up in Sesshomaru's bed, and Sesshomaru's fur, and felt unease fill her like too much cold sake. She felt sick to her stomach - why would he say those things to her?

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and padded across the floor to his desk. The paper leapt into her fingers; her eyes scanned the characters swiftly, and then again. She sank into his chair, and pulled the fur close to her, and cried.

Why must he now do something dangerous, when everything was better? She did not know whether to cry more, or be glad. Her old pains were gone, and instead she had a new, bright pain of loving Sesshomaru.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Sesshomaru expected his battles to be a challenge. He had spent a hundred years grieving, not fighting, but he had lost nothing and the changes in him were devastating to his opponent. A smile on Sesshomaru's face meant horrible things.

“You have taken a human woman for your mate, dog!”

“I have Kagome, not a human.”

Sometimes he used his hands, and sometimes his blade. After the first two days, word began to spread that the Inu no Taisho was returned from his long solitude, and was not weakened.

“You defile your blood with that miko! She should be your enemy!”

“She is Kagome. She is mine.”

He was exhilarated by the smell of blood, the rush of adrenaline that accompanied the sound of steel being drawn, living on the edge of many moments and fully a part of none of them. There was no opponent deserving of his attention.

“I have come to steal your Kagome, if you are the one called Sesshomaru!”

“I am, but you cannot steal her. I would not let you…and neither would she.”

Sesshomaru did not know this demon, but his power was greater than the others and his sword had a keener edge. He exerted himself, and a splash of power coiled like a blue dragon around his foe and boiled him away into nothing. He panted, and turned away from the sparkling air. It was enough, for now. He would go home.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He took three steps through the door, and then turned. The night was dark, and cold, and clouded. The first day of his return travels, he had come through thick snow, but that could not stop him. She was waiting. He stepped forward quickly now, down long hallways and through screens. He was bloody, and it would not be good to look on her this way. He paused outside her bedroom, and slid the screen of the room open just enough to see in.

The room was cold and scentless. His thoughts scattered, wondering where she could be at this time of night, why she would not be sleeping, if she was gone…when she had left. He stopped. He still could not go to her this way, even if he had to go out and find her again.

He went outside, and lit the fire for the water to heat, and stripped down to his kosode. Much less bloody, he sat, and waited. Footsteps approached him after a few moments, and he stood up, staring into the darkness.

“You!”
Shippou stared through smoke at Sesshomaru, and glanced at the heating water.

“Where is Kagome, Shippou? She is not in her bed!”

The green eyes narrowed at him, and Shippou pointed towards the house.

“She has been sleeping in your bed, Sesshomaru-sama. She has sat in your chair, in your library, reading youkai history or Chinese poetry, wrapped in your fur. You made her yours, Sesshomaru-sama, now go take care of her!”

Sesshomaru accepted this rebuke silently. It was true; he had left her without warning…but it was necessary. Scents spread faster than words; the scent of Kagome's power was definitely miko, and contained him, now. Only humans were miko. He would not suffer his father's fate.

“I will go to her when I have bathed. She would not like this…blood.”

Shippou shook his head.

“Now it is you who does not remember her right. She has treated many wounds, washed away more blood than you have spilled. She will not care at all. Now, you go, and I will bring this water to you. It is better that way.”

Sesshomaru stood, and turned his head only slightly, so that he could face Shippou and not get smoke in his eyes.

“Do not think, kitsune, that because I do nothing to you now means you have such license with your mouth in the future. It is only because this time…I deserve it.”

His footsteps into the house were sure, straight down the long hall and into the north wing to his own bedroom. Shippou had been telling the truth. A little stack of books stood on the desk near the foot of his bed. And Kagome…Kagome was curled under his furs, the pelt he had left with her wrapped as if she had never gone anywhere. He sat on the edge of the bed, and touched her cheek.

“Kagome.”

She turned, nuzzling his hand, smiling now, but she did not wake. Sesshomaru leaned close to her, spoke so that his breath warmed her cheek.

“Kagome, wake now.”

She blinked slowly, and then opened her eyes to the darkness.

“S'homaru? You are not allowed to leave without me any more.”

He laughed silently, and pulled her up so that she was sitting with her back against his pillows.

“I am going nowhere soon, Kagome. When did you start sleeping in my bed?”

She flushed - he could sense it through the darkness, feel the heat even in her fingers.

“The night after you left, I went to my own bed, but I could not sleep.”

She wriggled closer to him, and shivered as the fur slipped off her skin. He felt her bare shoulder, the curve of her breast, and leaned close.

“And your night-robe?”

Suddenly her eyes were bright, mischievous, and she leaned close to his ear.

“Perhaps I was hoping you would come home at night.”

She was tempting him, and he was not in a mood to deny himself, but Shippou was coming, and he was still bloodstained.

“Stay just this way, and do not move. I am going to light the lamps. Shippou is coming with bath water, and I will not touch you while I am so bloody.”

Of course, she did not listen, and leapt from the bed to examine him, searching for wounds by the light of the first lamp he lit.

“I am not hurt, Kagome! This is the mess my enemies make when I kill them. There was only one wound…”

She had found it, and was probing gently with her fingertips. It hurt, now that he was thinking about it, which was surprising. The sword that had split his shoulder should not have caused a wound that would last him so long. He growled; her fingers were pressing something that stung.

“Sorry, Sesshomaru, but did you know there was acid in your wound? Little blisters of acid…”

He felt another sting, and then another, and another. The screen slid open, and Shippou entered pushing a large tub, almost empty. He paused, staring at Kagome working over Sesshomaru's wound, hearing the growls that followed a sound like water on hot iron.

“Should I wait to bring the water, Kagome? She looked up, and then shook her head.

“No, there are not many left.”

He wondered what the `many' were, but retreated through the screen. Kagome leaned forward, and touched Sesshomaru's hand.

“This will hurt; I am sorry.”

He shook his head.

“The wound did not heal because it could not close. This is better.”

A sharp snarl flickered across his face as the last of the acid burned into his flesh, but he could feel the healing already, sealing from inside. Shippou returned and poured water in silence, until the tub was full and Kagome shooed him out. Sesshomaru looked at her as he stepped in the steaming water, and gestured for her to come to him.

The long fur that had been wrapped around her body did not stay so well while she was walking, and the sliding white strands exposing more and more of her skin was a gentle tease.

“Are you going to bathe with me, Kagome?”

She shook her head, and knelt beside the tub.

“No, but I will sit with you.”

The lamplight made his eyes ruddy, a deepening of color that he turned on her in silence. Shippou had brought the bath oils, Kagome's own mixture of shampoo, a pile of towels.

The water was hot, comforting, but it was not what he wanted. Her eyes did not stray from him; her hands were tight, holding the edge of the fur.

“Will you tell me…where you went?”

His face was inscrutable.

“To fight. Not a…place. I followed my enemies.”

“Then…why? Couldn't you have waited, told me, said good-bye?”

She smiled, sharply, shook her head.

“But I have no hold on you. There is nothing binding between us.”

Dark-eyed, he sat up in the water. Could she be so foolish?

“Nothing...binding?”

He stood, clean enough now, and reached for one of the towels Shippou had left. Something did bind them, something invisible, like a single strand of silk thread. If she could not feel it, why did she desire him?

“Kagome, you were sleeping here, why?”

She blinked, and the sharpness faded out of her features.

“The house was empty, silent - you can't know what it's like when you aren't here. I could not sleep at all, so I stole in here and…it was warm, in your bed.”

He wrapped the towel around his waist, and pulled his hair through his hands, getting rid of the excess water.

“And there is nothing binding between us?”

Her eyes loomed at him, black pools in the shadows between lamps.

“Is there? You do not find it difficult to leave me behind, but…it is different for those left behind.”

She closed her eyes, shut away the disturbing black-light that accused him, and swayed gently from side to side as she recited, a low chant.

 

The bright moon, oh, how white it shines

Shines down on the gauze curtains of my bed.

Racked by sorrow I toss and cannot sleep.

Picking up my clothes, I wander up and down.

My absent love says that he is happy,

But I would rather he said he was coming back.

Out in the courtyard I stand hesitating, alone.

To whom can I tell the sad thoughts I think?

Staring before me I enter my room again;

Falling tears wet my mantle and robe.

 

“But I also know that poem, Kagome. And those that come before it.”

He knelt next to her, and pulled her close. His skin and hair were damp, and clung to her.

“You do not know that I went to fight because of the bond between us - because I am in your scent now. You will never be far from me again.”

He pulled her up with him, and led her back to bed.

“You sleep here, now. You will be tired tomorrow, Kagome.”

She shook her head, smiled.

“But you are here now. The moon is very bright, and suddenly I am not tired at all.”

Hungry growls slid out of his throat; his fangs vibrated suddenly against her skin, pulling her blood against his tongue. Swiftly, he unraveled the winding fur that covered her, hardening her nipples with the gentle tug of his teeth, brushing his tongue across the very tip of the tight point. His hands slipped between her thighs. Kagome shuddered, moaned, felt his mouth moving over the sensitive skin below her breasts. His breath tickled her stomach, the tops of her thighs; with his hands, he parted her softest flesh and dragged one claw delicately over the moist nub.

Suddenly she was glistening with wetness, a scent that drew him, and he let his tongue flicker over the same place. Her hips rocked, struggling in his hands. Again, that single flicker; again, she moaned and moved against his hold.

“This is good for you, Kagome.”

She looked down her body, and saw his eyes peering up at her from between her thighs. Red stained her cheeks and filtered down to flush her whole body.

“What else do you want, Kagome?”

Again, his tongue, this time slow strokes, steady pressure. A bright ball of heat was building behind the touch of his mouth, drawing on the muscles inside her to clench tightly. The emptiness ached.
”Please…”

A wide, fanged smile reached onto his face, but she could not see it. Her breath was tight in her chest, a long gasp and then a quick exhale. Without even being aware, her hands leapt down to twine in his hair, holding him.

“S'homaru…please. Please… I -“

He allowed her back to arch off the bed, enjoying the shape of her pleasure. She would not let go of his hair, begging with her hips now that she could no longer make words. Carefully, purposefully, he sped the motion of his tongue, and she shook, and let out a high, unmistakable cry.

`Please' had become a one-word echo that ran out of her mouth like a stream, her hands loosed from his hair now and reached for his shoulders, his hands, his desire. Taunting her, he stood, and pulled her foot, dragging her down the bed.

“You are the mate of a demon, now, Kagome.”

When she was close enough that he could reach her knees, he

pulled them up and parted her legs. The touch of his fingers sliding through her wetness brought more cries from her lips. She wanted exactly what he wanted; he had made her that way. Even memory could not prepare him for the tight, holding heat, sensation clenching and then pulling away. He held her in one place, and took delirious pleasure in the ripples of smooth heat that enveloped him.

His mouth sought her throat, the tops of her breasts, her nipples. Red patterns etched themselves across her skin, added a new layer of tingling to the swollen pressure that accompanied each thrust. She had stopped making noises, now. Her eyes were shut, her face tight, lips parted but silent. Sesshomaru let go, and surged forward, filling her, holding her. His eyes were blank - his own cry taut, low, growling, Kagome's sounds higher again, pitched to match him.

After, silence wandered between them, flowing like water over the closeness of their skin. Sesshomaru's breath heaved out of his chest and left a path like fire. He clutched Kagome's body, his ward against the darkness, and buried his awareness in the scents of orange blossoms and stars, many scented petals, the slick scent of their union.

Kagome held him, and relaxed against the softness of furs beneath her. Echoes of pleasure stirred her limbs; words and the growl that filled them remained in her thoughts.

 

You are the mate of a demon now, Kagome.

 

The words pleased her, made her feel solid again, connected to her own flesh. She had learned from Sango what `mate' meant to demons, long ago while Inuyasha stared into the fire with unreadable eyes.

 

And why can I think of them, think of him, without that pain, that fleshy, breaking pain?

 

She pressed her cheek against Sesshomaru's chest, listened to the rhythm of his breathing as it evened out, slow now, deeper. A tiny slice of outside was visible through the window slats from her angle, the ground soft with snow, the skies silver and shining. The air was thick with luminescent clouds.

“What can you see out the window, S'homaru?”

He shifted just enough to turn his eyes on her. They were an amber pair of fireflies in the dimness, flickering with the red light of torches in their pupils. He closed them, perhaps content with the expression on her face, or the line of her limbs.

“Outside, there is snow on the ground and in the air. The sky is lit from behind the snowdrifts in the clouds. The garden is lit by lamps; lumps and mounds of white have taken the place of reeds and trees. It is all the same color now, all white, all pristine, waiting. There is no water running in out stream. Shippou was outside, and Kanna, but now is scolding him for his seriousness, and he is laughing at her scolding. Tomorrow, the world will be whiter than it is now.”

Something like a smile was playing with the corners of his mouth.

“You could not see all of that through one window, S'homaru.'

Soft things were in her voice.

“I can hear them. And you.”

His mouth touched her collarbone, her shoulder, her throat, her lips.

“You, who are mine.”

 

Fin