InuYasha Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction ❯ Braving Mystical Worlds ❯ Chapter 8: Rendez-vous ( Chapter 8 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Disclaimer: I can try to claim the concept and creation of the Xmen or Inuyasha - but then, I'd be knee deep in doggie-do or flung to another dimension, so just to clarify, NO!!! They aren't mine, but give it a year or two. Or not.
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Braving Mystical Worlds: Chapter 8: Rendez-vous
-Jasmine Fields
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Sesshou: (snorts) So, let me get this straight...everyone from these X-men has two names? And you broke-up Scot and Jean...why?
Jazz: That's right! Well, on the Scot & Jean issue - that's because I need a plot twist - and they were just ripe for the picking!
Sesshou: Hmmm. (licks his brownie fudge ice cream cone - from Marble's Creamery, mind you - eyes rolling with glee to the back of his head) So, how come I don't have two names?
Jazz: (watches Sesshou as he tries to reach the tip of his nose to lick off ice cream layered on his nose) You do - have two names.
Sesshou: (stops fighting for the nose and ploughs into the ice cream) ....
Jazz: (holds in a snicker at the sight of his tirade) Actually, when you think about it, you have three: one - Sesshoumaru, two - Lord of the Western Lands, and three - Inu no taisho.
Sesshou: Those aren't names...those are respectful titles of my heritage! (finishes lapping his ice cream up like an eager puppy)
Jazz: Well, uh, now that you mention it...I think you need to take that up with Ms. Takahashi... I don't know what to tell you on that one.
Sesshou: (slurps remaining ice cream from face) This Sesshoumaru demands another name! (readies his claws, as the chocolate starts to affect him; finger tips leak out poison as temper surfaces with rage)
Jazz: Down boy! Behave! (takes a step back, fearing for her life) Sorry, gotta run - havefta respond to my wonderful readers like Dark-Magician-41 now! Bye! Ri-i-i-i-i-n! (runs away)
Rin: (answers from some where) Yes? (looks around) Where'd she go?
Sesshou: This Sesshoumaru demands a second name! One simply won't do! I want another name too! (howls)
Rin: Oh brother...he's so melodramatic! (rolls eyes) Good thing I know how to put that mutt-lord in the doghouse! (scampers up to Sesshou on tip-toes and scruffs him hard)
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-Translation Notes-
Mon coeur^ - [french] My heart
Memento mori* - [latin] Memory of death
Tout les jours...je t'aimes** - [french] I love you always
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-Japan-Modern Era-
He handed Jean a travel-size packet of tissues that she used to blow her misery into and gently hugged her to the crook of his shoulder. The flood of tears streaming down her face caused a twinge of heartache to resurface while he still recovered from the reminiscent tantalizing memento mori* from his own break up earlier that year. The queen ruling his heart - sitting lovely on the lonely throne room of his soul still reigned supreme....
He was a damned jerk - and had returned, unwillingly, to the half of the gene-pool where all deserving fools and asses shrivel-up from their stupidity.
Jamming his hands deep into the pockets of his trench coat, fingering a couple of old decks of cards, wiping a memory away - a tear - he sat beside Jean under the tree that the old priest insisted held special powers of healing.
Goshin-baka...Goshin-boca some thing...Goshin-boku - that was it - the sacred time tree.
Whatever that meant.
Though reluctant to put his trust in such fleeting superstitions, he allowed a release of consolation in Jean's wake.
Really, he did understand the overwhelming power of sorrow that shredded the red-head's heart into thousands of pieces - the crushing weight of the blow - the raging fury of anger for love somehow gone all wrong.
After the girl took enough comfort to come to grips from what he allowed himself to offer in the way of condolences - she would retreat unto her self in search of a tranquil sanctuary, of sorts, even if temporary, to attempt to dry her eyes...and then wake to a new reality of nightmares come true dawning the next morning - and all the mornings after that - and setting every evening - and all the lonely evenings following.
She and One-Eye had been together forever, it seemed.
"Cherie sweet, jest dry yo'hr tears now. This ol' Cajun's here to lend an ear."
His heart secretly and bitterly wept while he loitered around holding the aching girl. He would have thought that she would have seen some sort of sign of this - but she generally controlled her wistful nature and locked down on her mutant powers so that there was some semblence of normalcy with her interactions.
Long term relationships like the ones they shared were difficult to come by when they seemed to stand true during trial by fire...and even more complicated to explain when devastation struck. Knowing all too well the disaster and hysteria an unexpected announcement caused, he offered his strength - as weak as it was.
How long had Rogue and he dated - been lovers? Oh yes...four years - five years...what the hell, the time didn't really matter. He didn't know. Without her vibrancy or life to share his dreams, he was nothingness combined as a redeemed lost thief with out a home.
Mon coeur...^
Even now his allegience held steadfast as he pledged his entire being to endure Rogue's hardships hand in hand, as it would - however she saw fit.
Heart softened from years of living a virulently hostile street life all her feminine softness closing around drowned him - involuntarily speeding up his pulse the very first time they touched...the very first time he stole a kiss...the first time he was nervous when he drank in what she was able to give him.
He loved her shamelessly.
He never thought he had taken advantage of the goodness of his Rogue until that moment of fatal loss. Still, he suffered for falling for her so hard - so fast - for so long - and for screwing up a good thing.
The drabble in his head ranted.
Love gone wrong...
Those were her words when she apologized and broke-off the relationship.
He had ridden his motorcycle cross-country to California and back with a stop each way through Vegas and cruised through the Rockies during a light snow fall then headed down to the French Quarter only to return to New York with the same misery that he departed with. Gone for a mere month, he cried everyday the first two months after his return, detesting his actions.
After that pitfall, he eventually owned-up to his sins confessing that he deserved her unforgiving wrath and shouldered responsibility for all the shame and guilt of the events that transpired.
He still hoped for any attention she would grant him, and talked him self into believing that she loved him enough....and that it wouldn't happen again.
A declaration and closure to the relationship had been hissed - directed - in his ear sending sweet shivers up his spine when he had tried to negotiate with her into listening and hearing him out - at least once more. Slamming the doors of her love on him and walking away, she hadn't turned her head his way since. The deal was done.
She always was strong - and he admittedly loved her inexplicably for it. He couldn't get her out of his head. At least he knew what some part of her felt when ever she absorbed someone else's mind. He accepted that it was most probable that she didn't think of him anymore.
Tout les jours...je t'aimes...**
Tuned to her every movement and mood, he had noticed that his Cherie had grown uncommonly quiet the last few months seeking out a resolution - and just knew he was the cause of her distress.
A piece of his soul died every single time he witnessed her draw a frown - when she yearned to touch - to feel - to caress with out regret - with out fear of hurting another.
There was nothing wrong with Rogue, just as there was nothing wrong with Jean.
Love gone wrong...
The difference between them was that Jean needed a friend - any one, really - and he supposed he would do. But Rogue was the one he worshipped and loved without abandon - without regret - without anything to show for his mourning.
Yet, he would have done it all again - for the experience - he told him self.
Still, sometimes, when he was alone - and One-Eye wasn't around - and that snarling lead-bodied animal was gone - he would vent out his frustration relieving him self in the consolation of his room in the safety of his own bed wishing for his death at her hands cursing and blessing her in the same breath when he screamed into the sheets.
He wanted his first and only love to linger so he could reach her - cry out her name in ecstasy - and make amends for his wrong doing. He hated to waste away - eroding and drifting in a lost haze fogging his mind, wallowing in the cold emptiness that froze his centre. At the same token, he remained faithfully reformed - chaste - feverish, numb, and burning hot with desire for only his beloved.
He was a Swamp Rat...just like she always knew. He failed her - and paid a heavy cost. He missed her something fiercely and couldn't bare the evil of his own doing. It was his fault that she ran off and hid her self for weeks on end; the blame was all his that she would never get another opportunity like that again...
Love gone all wrong.
Clamping his jaw shut tight, he winced, discreetly wiping a fallen stream of tears from his jaw and held Jean while recalling the slap his Rogue gave him reeling him backwards causing his head to spin out of control.
She was crying when he had been caught kissing another woman unrestrained.
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