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Broken (Prompt #10) | Inuyasha
Collection Title: Fleeting
Genre: Drama/Romance
Rating: Y
Summary: A collection of oneshots & drabbles centered around the fleeting moments in Sesshoumaru's and Kagome's relationship as they fumble towards one another. AU; Serial.
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un_love_you Prompt Table here. Prompt for this piece is: #10: “I'm broken.”
Title: Broken
Universe: Alternate (modern era)
Rating: T (language)
Word Count: 6416
Pairing: Sesshoumaru/Kagome
Summary: Sesshoumaru and Kagome mourn the loss of their relationship in separate yet similar ways.
Author’s Note: #17 in a series. Part 1 | Parts 2-16
Many thanks (and thus, a chapter dedication) to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
piratequeen0405, whose lovely retrofitted fairy tale was the linchpin to bring the muses out of hibernation. They poured forth, and how! My sanity, it thanks you, LOL =)
The mega-meta resource post has also been updated with a few author's notes for those interested.
Disclaimer: The Inuyasha concept, story, and characters are copyright Rumiko Takahashi and Viz Media.
~*~
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.
1. Denial
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 year, completely destroying his social life, but he kept telling himself the end result was 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 for this 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 entering. 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 glided 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 the man raised his gaze to Sesshoumaru’s face. 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 back 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 up as he ruffled through the pages. His gaze flickered back to Sesshoumaru as he came to the bottom. “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 a 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 around in his head. Application interviews started in 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 am anticipating none.”
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 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, shoving away the niggling little voice at 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 wandering towards his room.
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. Oh, yeah, I didn’t have breakfast this morning, he remembered. 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 focused on cataloguing his food supply. The last week really blurred together in his mind, and he tried to remember the last time he’d been to the store. 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 him approach and then abruptly halt.
“Sesshoumaru,” she murmured, her tone surprised.
The word 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.
~*~
2. Anger
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 curled into a tight ball, uncaring as the sheets twisted uncomfortably around her legs under her ministrations. She’d spent much of the last two days in bed, unable or unwilling to get up for reasons other than immediate, functional relief. 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 with your family’s company, you would’ve run screaming in the other direction.
So, in a way, she came to understand the convoluted logic behind him keeping his mouth shut from the start. 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 showed 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 his love for her while they were together, and of course the lack of physical intimacy was what led to the explosion 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, raising those barriers she’d worked so hard to break through, while she dissolved into a blubbering, angry mess?
But 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 been working so hard to protect herself, to learn from her mother’s mistakes, that she couldn’t see the noose until it was 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 court 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 seeing what hell her mother went through, Kagome found herself determined to never experience it firsthand. Her relationships were frivolous at best: sometimes quick and painless, sometimes more involved, 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 nearly 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 never pressed the issue – she never forced his hand like she had at the first, when she had resolved to chase him instead of waiting for him. 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 working things out with Sesshoumaru, she’d run off to Inuyasha for comfort, and had fallen headlong into the very trap she was so fearful of. She hated herself for being so blind, 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 he was faking 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 all be sham, a thin façade 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 the facts were practically burned on 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 thumb, 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.
~*~
3. Bargaining
“Come on, Kagome, talk to me,” pleaded the voice at the other end of the line.
“What do you want?” she sighed, already regretting 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 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 popped up.
Maybe a little girl chat would be comforting for a change.
“Look,” Sango said, breaking into Kagome’s thoughts, “I’m not sure what happened between you two, but I do know I haven’t seen you in almost a week, and that’s scary. Inuyasha told me you’re cutting classes as well, so I know something’s wrong. If you aren’t willing to tell him, maybe you’ll tell me?”
Kagome rolled on her back, staring up at the darkened 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 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. 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. “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, the 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 and take a shower and 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, 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 first realized she felt something more for him than playful lust, when she could still hold out hope that maybe one day, he’d feel the same way…
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 looked 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 flowed down 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 like 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?”
~*~
4. Depression
“You have to take things one day at a time,” Sango had 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 proved what a wonderful, generous, and valuable friend she could be. After letting her cry on the stoop, she had led Kagome into her own 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 the 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 didn’t bother trying to defend Inuyasha for his actions, even though she had been his friend longer.
“I don’t understand it, either,” she said, furrowing her brow. “That just doesn’t jive with the Inuyasha I know. 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, reaching out to squeeze Sango’s hand gratefully.
“You know what else I don’t understand?” Sango then 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 murmured 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, I’d probably have done the same.”
It was niggling little thoughts like those that kept her from absolutely wallowing in despair. She finally found the strength to face the world a few days after that conversation, going back to classes after missing them for a week, grateful 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, spending 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 strength of resolve she 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 showered quickly, 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 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 had 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?” Kagome snorted in response. “No offense, but you’ve always struck me as someone too practical to rely on such romantic notions.”
Sango grinned, a slight blush rising to 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, but strangely comforting,” she replied.
Kagome straightened, giving herself a firm shake before leaving her room, headed for the kitchen and some morning sustenance. Of all the advice offered on that distant day, this was probably the hardest piece to take. Even after almost a month, her love for Sesshoumaru didn’t fade, only strengthened; her needs didn’t abate, only worsened; her longing didn’t diminish, 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.
~*~
5. Acceptance
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 were mostly a blur. He’d spent most of his time at the library, rereading through 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 – his finals were next week, then came the long rounds of application interviews. In many ways, this was a trial run for how the next few weeks would play out, a chance to practice being on 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 speech 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 to make sure 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, and he knew that he’d be facing even tougher questions than his classmates, given his name and family history. 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. He pulled up short, glancing 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, 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 and moving to the table. His 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 sucked 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 library. His stomach clenched as the memory of that night floated unbidden to 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 on his cup. I still am.
He hadn’t wanted to admit it before, but it was becoming more painfully obvious with each passing second that he had spent the last month lying to himself. He thought he was over her. He thought he’d moved past this. He thought that if he focused single-mindedly on his master plan, funneling all of his anger and aggression into elaborate schemes for getting back at his father and brother, he could completely ignore the fact that she was still around, hovering in the periphery of his life.
Yet if that was the case…why did he find that it was taking every fiber of his being to not reach out for her at this moment, to curl her close and breathe in her wonderful scent and find solace in her lavishly unrestrained embrace?
“Good luck,” she said, turning 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 stringent lemon tea wasn’t 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 wasn’t the one.
“Listen, Sesshoumaru,” she began, taking a deep breath before continuing. “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 said 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 tightly 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 interrupted, her eyes 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 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 said abruptly, standing up. “You need more than tea to face the firing squad.”
Before he realized what he was doing, he reached out swiftly and grabbed 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.
“Thanks,” he murmured.
“Well, what are friends for?” she replied cheerily.
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 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, not bothering to look back.
Genre: Drama/Romance
Rating: Y
Summary: A collection of oneshots & drabbles centered around the fleeting moments in Sesshoumaru's and Kagome's relationship as they fumble towards one another. AU; Serial.
un_love_you Prompt Table here. Prompt for this piece is: #10: “I'm broken.”Title: Broken
Universe: Alternate (modern era)
Rating: T (language)
Word Count: 6416
Pairing: Sesshoumaru/Kagome
Summary: Sesshoumaru and Kagome mourn the loss of their relationship in separate yet similar ways.
Author’s Note: #17 in a series. Part 1 | Parts 2-16
Many thanks (and thus, a chapter dedication) to
piratequeen0405, whose lovely retrofitted fairy tale was the linchpin to bring the muses out of hibernation. They poured forth, and how! My sanity, it thanks you, LOL =)The mega-meta resource post has also been updated with a few author's notes for those interested.
Disclaimer: The Inuyasha concept, story, and characters are copyright Rumiko Takahashi and Viz Media.
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 year, completely destroying his social life, but he kept telling himself the end result was 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 for this 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 entering. 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 glided 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 the man raised his gaze to Sesshoumaru’s face. 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 back 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 up as he ruffled through the pages. His gaze flickered back to Sesshoumaru as he came to the bottom. “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 a 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 around in his head. Application interviews started in 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 am anticipating none.”
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 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, shoving away the niggling little voice at 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 wandering towards his room.
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. Oh, yeah, I didn’t have breakfast this morning, he remembered. 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 focused on cataloguing his food supply. The last week really blurred together in his mind, and he tried to remember the last time he’d been to the store. 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 him approach and then abruptly halt.
“Sesshoumaru,” she murmured, her tone surprised.
The word 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.
2. Anger
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 curled into a tight ball, uncaring as the sheets twisted uncomfortably around her legs under her ministrations. She’d spent much of the last two days in bed, unable or unwilling to get up for reasons other than immediate, functional relief. 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 with your family’s company, you would’ve run screaming in the other direction.
So, in a way, she came to understand the convoluted logic behind him keeping his mouth shut from the start. 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 showed 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 his love for her while they were together, and of course the lack of physical intimacy was what led to the explosion 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, raising those barriers she’d worked so hard to break through, while she dissolved into a blubbering, angry mess?
But 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 been working so hard to protect herself, to learn from her mother’s mistakes, that she couldn’t see the noose until it was 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 court 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 seeing what hell her mother went through, Kagome found herself determined to never experience it firsthand. Her relationships were frivolous at best: sometimes quick and painless, sometimes more involved, 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 nearly 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 never pressed the issue – she never forced his hand like she had at the first, when she had resolved to chase him instead of waiting for him. 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 working things out with Sesshoumaru, she’d run off to Inuyasha for comfort, and had fallen headlong into the very trap she was so fearful of. She hated herself for being so blind, 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 he was faking 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 all be sham, a thin façade 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 the facts were practically burned on 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 thumb, 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.
3. Bargaining
“Come on, Kagome, talk to me,” pleaded the voice at the other end of the line.
“What do you want?” she sighed, already regretting 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 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 popped up.
Maybe a little girl chat would be comforting for a change.
“Look,” Sango said, breaking into Kagome’s thoughts, “I’m not sure what happened between you two, but I do know I haven’t seen you in almost a week, and that’s scary. Inuyasha told me you’re cutting classes as well, so I know something’s wrong. If you aren’t willing to tell him, maybe you’ll tell me?”
Kagome rolled on her back, staring up at the darkened 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 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. 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. “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, the 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 and take a shower and 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, 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 first realized she felt something more for him than playful lust, when she could still hold out hope that maybe one day, he’d feel the same way…
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 looked 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 flowed down 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 like 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?”
4. Depression
“You have to take things one day at a time,” Sango had 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 proved what a wonderful, generous, and valuable friend she could be. After letting her cry on the stoop, she had led Kagome into her own 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 the 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 didn’t bother trying to defend Inuyasha for his actions, even though she had been his friend longer.
“I don’t understand it, either,” she said, furrowing her brow. “That just doesn’t jive with the Inuyasha I know. 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, reaching out to squeeze Sango’s hand gratefully.
“You know what else I don’t understand?” Sango then 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 murmured 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, I’d probably have done the same.”
It was niggling little thoughts like those that kept her from absolutely wallowing in despair. She finally found the strength to face the world a few days after that conversation, going back to classes after missing them for a week, grateful 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, spending 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 strength of resolve she 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 showered quickly, 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 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 had 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?” Kagome snorted in response. “No offense, but you’ve always struck me as someone too practical to rely on such romantic notions.”
Sango grinned, a slight blush rising to 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, but strangely comforting,” she replied.
Kagome straightened, giving herself a firm shake before leaving her room, headed for the kitchen and some morning sustenance. Of all the advice offered on that distant day, this was probably the hardest piece to take. Even after almost a month, her love for Sesshoumaru didn’t fade, only strengthened; her needs didn’t abate, only worsened; her longing didn’t diminish, 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.
5. Acceptance
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 were mostly a blur. He’d spent most of his time at the library, rereading through 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 – his finals were next week, then came the long rounds of application interviews. In many ways, this was a trial run for how the next few weeks would play out, a chance to practice being on 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 speech 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 to make sure 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, and he knew that he’d be facing even tougher questions than his classmates, given his name and family history. 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. He pulled up short, glancing 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, 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 and moving to the table. His 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 sucked 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 library. His stomach clenched as the memory of that night floated unbidden to 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 on his cup. I still am.
He hadn’t wanted to admit it before, but it was becoming more painfully obvious with each passing second that he had spent the last month lying to himself. He thought he was over her. He thought he’d moved past this. He thought that if he focused single-mindedly on his master plan, funneling all of his anger and aggression into elaborate schemes for getting back at his father and brother, he could completely ignore the fact that she was still around, hovering in the periphery of his life.
Yet if that was the case…why did he find that it was taking every fiber of his being to not reach out for her at this moment, to curl her close and breathe in her wonderful scent and find solace in her lavishly unrestrained embrace?
“Good luck,” she said, turning 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 stringent lemon tea wasn’t 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 wasn’t the one.
“Listen, Sesshoumaru,” she began, taking a deep breath before continuing. “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 said 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 tightly 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 interrupted, her eyes 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 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 said abruptly, standing up. “You need more than tea to face the firing squad.”
Before he realized what he was doing, he reached out swiftly and grabbed 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.
“Thanks,” he murmured.
“Well, what are friends for?” she replied cheerily.
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 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, not bothering to look back.
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I was really surprised to realize (almost more than the love thing) that Kagome hasn't really had a close female friend
Really? o.O Maybe I read too many regency romances, LOL. I guess its also a bit of subtle class distinction, to put her on equal social footing with Sesshoumaru and Inuyasha.
Although of course, that STILL brings me back to Inuyasha... if he was trying to wiggle his way in between her and Sesshoumaru... would he have heeded Sango's advice (At least, I'm assuming he got the message from Sango).
*wiggles eyebrows* Yes, indeed, just why would he have heeded Sango's advice (especially if she didn't have a handy-dandy weapon to wield at his head, LOL)?
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*nodsnods* This makes sense ^_^
Yes, indeed, just why would he have heeded Sango's advice (especially if she didn't have a handy-dandy weapon to wield at his head, LOL)?
*shakes finger* Now, now. If she's a woman and she's breathing... there is ALWAYS a handy-dandy weapon to wield at a man.
A remote makes a fantastic projectile...
*krikri* The InuYasha angst is gonna kill me, you meanie! :-P
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A remote makes a fantastic projectile...
*thinks* Or a phone...
*krikri* The InuYasha angst is gonna kill me, you meanie! :-P
*snort* You love it and you know it, so kwitcherbitchin :P 13 more prompts to go! :D I promise, Inuyasha's storyline will be resolved in a timely manner (and hopefully without anymore butt bruises for you, though I can't promise anything).
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*shuffles feet*
Awwww, you caught me. I'm a sucker for a fabulous "OMG WTF" plotline...
(and hopefully without anymore butt bruises for you, though I can't promise anything)
*pouts* I don't know how much more she can take, cap'n!