InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ A Sacred Treasure and a Hanyou ❯ A Place to Heal ( Chapter 16 )

Chapter 15

A Place to Heal

 

The tiny, raven haired woman was a stranger that she watched from a distance. She saw her go through normal, everyday motions, smile beautifully at the woman who was working the gate at the airport, trying to lift her bag with some difficulty. A tall, handsome silvery-haired man helped her with the luggage, kept one hand under her elbow as they walked onto the plane. She watched as the woman curled up in her seat, her head resting on the shoulder of the man she was with, and fell into a fitful sleep.

It was during these rare moments of unconsciousness that she felt she grew closer to the tiny woman. It felt as though she were drifting through a fog. Everything she saw was wrapped in a hazy bluish-pink and, no matter how much she blinked, she could not make it disappear.

She turned away from the sleeping woman, turned to look around her. She found that the misty, weightless void she inhabited wasn't as complete as she thought. There, in the distance, she could see a dark, ugly gash marring the fog. She moved toward it, hesitantly curious, and, as she grew closer, the comforting numbness she existed in started to disappear.

She stopped, backed away. The tear in the void spoke to her of a terrible emptiness, of pain that she didn't remember.

You are not here for that, child.

The soft voice called softly through the mists, came from all around her, from inside of her. And, with the voice, came a soft brilliance that slowly built in intensity.

Rest...Heal...It will be there for you to conquer when you are whole again.

She felt something tug at her, watched as the sleeping form of the raven haired woman came nearer. The white-haired man seemed to see her for a brief instant, before furrowing his brow and shaking his head.

Kagome watched the world drift around her, eyes never quite seeing what was before her, her mind constantly replaying those terrifying moments when the Shikon no Tama had been ripped out of her. She could still feel those cold fingers sinking into her flesh, could still feel them closing around her soul, yanking it from her. Every time she remembered, she would freeze, would break down.

And, every time it happened, strong arms were there to hold her, a soft voice was there to whisper in her ear and assure her that everything would be okay.

She was aware, at one point, of that voice yelling. Not at her; never at her.

“I don't care, Sesshomaru...You'll just have to find someone else to go...Fuck, go yourself...”

She gradually became aware of a new voice, a familiar voice, that she held dear to her heart.

“Oh, my baby!...Put her here...Leave her, she will be fine. Come down to the kitchen with me. You look like you could use a cup of tea.”

Something inside gave way, let loose, and Kagome pushed away the nightmare, at last succumbing to the safe, healing fingers of true sleep.

 

*

Soft, pink pillows with ruffles on them cradled her head, a matching sheet was pulled around her. Kagome stared at a ceiling she had stared at for eighteen years of her life and wondered what, exactly, was going on.

She ached everywhere, but there was a more persistent throbbing around her upper arms, wrists and ankles. She pushed the sheet aside, raising her arms and frowned at the white bandages that encircled her wrists. The movement caused a dull, painful tugging in her side, making her fingers immediately search for the spot. She encountered more bandages wrapped around her mid-section.

She heard soft snoring and turned to find Inuyasha sitting on the floor, against the wall next to her bed. He sat Indian-style, his arm crossed before him, and his chin rested against his chest, silvery-white bangs obscuring his eyes. Kagome reached out a hand to brush his hair away from his face, stopped, and pulled away.

Kagome slipped out of her childhood bed and out of the room as silently as she could. Closing the door softly behind her, she followed the familiar sounds of someone moving around in the kitchen downstairs.

Kagome leaned silently in the doorway, watching the tall thin woman as she moved around the kitchen. Her dark hair was pulled softly away from her face in a loose bun, the sleeves of her yellow cardigan were shoved above her elbows. Kagome could see the ties from the apron that covered the knee length skirt and felt the sudden rush of comfort.

“Mama,” she whispered, suddenly feeling like she was fifteen again.

The woman immediately turned, crossed the room and held Kagome against her. Kagome sighed, relaxed and realized everything would be okay. It was what mothers did, she thought to herself. The simple embrace needed no words. It was a haven in and of itself; protecting, loving, keeping the outer world at bay until the time that she could pull away and face it again.

The kettle on the stove started to whistle softly. Kagome was urged to sit, had a hot, steaming mug pressed into her hands. This, too, was another one of those soothing gestures that, it seemed, her mother lived by. Everything could be solved by talking over a hot cup of tea.

“Are you okay?”

Kagome looked up at her mother, giving her a small smile. “I'm okay,” she said. She leaned back in her chair and sighed. “When I told Inuyasha to take me home, I didn't think he'd take me so literally.”

Her mother reached a hand out, covering Kagome's. “I'm glad he did.” The elder Higurashi paused, searching her daughter's face. “He didn't tell me what happened,” she finally said, gently. “He didn't seem to know.”

Kagome licked her lips. “I'm not sure even I know,” she admitted. “I would like to talk to Grandpa.”

Her mother nodded. “He will be back for dinner.” She paused again as she stood, refilling both of their mugs. When she sat down again, a smile stretched across her face, and Kagome just knew what was coming next. “So, who is this man?” she asked, nodding her head slightly toward the upstairs.

What was it about coming back to the place you grew up that suddenly made you feel like a child again? Kagome asked herself. She resisted the temptation to roll her eyes, to sigh out, “Oh, Mother.” Instead, she dropped her eyes and grinned foolishly into her mug. “Inuyasha Takahashi,” she said. “He's a businessman back in the States.”

“And how did you two meet?”

Kagome bit her lip. “Through work,” she said. Mama knew how Kagome earned her extra money. She didn't thoroughly approve, but she was content to support her child's decisions. “He was a client.”

Her mother simply smiled. “Do you love him?” she asked.

“Oh, Mama.”

Mama's smile broadened. “Takahashi. His father was Inu-no-taisho Takahashi?” The question didn't seem to need an answer as she nodded to herself. “You're father knew him.”

Kagome blinked. “Really?”

Mama rose again to refill their cups. “They were not great friends,” she said. “Just business acquaintances. I do remember meeting his eldest, what was his name?”

“Sesshomaru.”

Both women looked up in surprise. Inuyasha stood, barefoot, in the doorway. As soon as Kagome looked at him, he was across the room, holding her in his arms.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low, concerned.

Kagome smiled up at him. “I'm fine, Inuyasha. Although I may be in danger of being suffocated by you.” She swatted his arms away. “Sit,” she said. “Mama was just telling me about how Papa knew your father.”

“Did he?”

Kagome's mother had already produced another steaming mug, as if by magic. “Not well,” she told him. “I'm not sure how well anyone knew him. By the way, Inuyasha, you don't have to hide what you look like from me.”

Inuyasha froze, slanted a glance at Kagome who looked just as baffled. “What exactly do you mean, Mrs. Higurashi?” he asked.

She smiled at him. “My father is very knowledgeable about history. I know where your name comes from, what it means.” She laughed slightly at his expression as she stood, clearing the table. “You two should go take a walk. It's a beautiful day.” She began to shoo them out of the house.

“Mrs. Higurashi-” Inuyasha began.

She cut him off, pushing Kagome and Inuyasha outside. “Call me 'mama,'” she said. “I have a feeling you're close to becoming a part of this family.”

Inuyasha stared, stunned, as she walked back into the house. He looked down at Kagome to find the same expression on her face, a rosy pink fanning across her cheeks. Unable to contain it anymore, Inuyasha began to chuckle. Kagome turned confused eyes up to him.

“Now I understand where you get your stubbornness from,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her along behind him.

They walked silently, the simple contact of their hands enough. The cherry trees had longed finished blooming, and Inuyasha sighed softly in regret. As a child, he had always loved watching their blooms float softly to the ground, like pink petaled snowflakes. He looked around him at a land he knew intimately and felt a tension inside of him ease.

He was pulled out of his reminiscing by the sudden stop of the woman by his side. He looked up at the enormous tree before him, watched as its high branches waved gently in the wind, pure white petals drifting slowly down. Around its trunk was a rosary, that chimed softly in a passing breeze. Inuyasha felt a tug of recognition, stepped forward to place a hand on the rough bark. He felt the aged soul within and realized, suddenly, where he was standing. His memory gave him images of the forest that had once covered this place, his forest, his place.

The sharp intake of breath pulled him back to the present. Kagome stood behind him, her head tilted back, gazing up at the blossoming branches.

“The God Tree,” she whispered. “I've never seen it in bloom before.”

The shuffling steps behind them made both of them turn. An old man dressed in dark blue hamaka and a white haori approached them slowly. His grey hair was pulled back in a high tail, his matching beard coming to a point. He leaned on a knotty wood cane and came to a stop beside Kagome, looking up at the tree.

“That's because it never has,” he told Kagome. “Not for hundreds of years.” He looked at the woman standing next to him. “How are you, dear?” he asked, his eyes as soft as his words.

“Grandpa,” was Kagome's answer, as she threw her arms around the elderly man.

Inuyasha stood as still as possible, his hand still resting on the tree. When the old man looked over at him, Inuyasha felt an urge to melt into the bark.

“Are you the one who dragged my Kagome into fights with demons?” he asked, sharply.

Inuyasha felt the hair on the nape of his neck start to bristle at the tone. His eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to snap back at the old man.

“Grandpa, be kind,” Kagome said, pulling away. “Inuyasha saved me.” Before Inuyasha could interject that that wasn't really how it happened, Kagome gave him a slight shake of her head. “Grandpa, I need to ask you about some things. About a jewel called the Shikon no Tama and about the miko Kikyo.”

Her grandfather nodded and motioned for them to follow him as he made his way slowly to a small building. Inuyasha's eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light and he saw stairs leading down to what looked like a wooden well. His gaze slid across the walls and noticed the paintings that hung there. An amused smile crossed his face as he stared into the defiant gaze of his youth. He remembered, distantly, being that boy who thought he had everything figured out, who thought that the easiest way to solve a problem was to fight or ignore it. His eyes wandered with his memories, and his breath suddenly caught in his throat. As if in a dream, he moved across the room to look at the painting that hung opposite of his.

She was exactly as he remembered her. That soft, yet strong, look about her that told everyone she was capable of anything. Seeing her now, he realized that Kagome really looked nothing like her and he wondered how he ever could have made that mistake.

“I think that he is the one who has your answers,” came the voice of Kagome's grandfather. Inuyasha turned to find both of them watching him. The old man smiled, almost kindly, nodding his head again. “I will see you two at dinner,” he said, leaving them alone.

Kagome moved to stand at his side, turning to look at the painting of the woman she was reincarnated from.

“You knew her well, didn't you?” she asked, not looking at him.

Inuyasha hesitated. “I loved her,” he said, softly. Kagome turned stormy grey eyes filled with sorrow on him.

“What happened?”

He told her and she listened, her eyes widening in slight horror when she learned how the woman had been brought back to life, how she had almost convinced him to die with her.

“She was selfish,” Kagome said, taking his hand and looking at the painting again.

Inuyasha ran a hand through his hair, relaxing, letting the concealment spell fall. It was pointless anyway, he figured, eyeing the picture of himself. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But I should have been there. Just like I should have been there for you.” He pulled her toward him, wrapping his arms around her. “I was terrified I was going to lose you,” he whispered into her hair.

“Inuyasha, something...something happened. I don't really remember what it was, but it felt like someone else was there. I felt things that weren't my own, remembered things I've never known. I felt as though my purpose was to protect the jewel no matter what.” She suddenly pulled away from him. “Where is it?” she asked, sounding slightly panicked.

He smiled down at her, put a hand in his pocket and pulled out a thin silver chain. Holding it between clawed fingers he showed it to her. The pink jewel sat at the middle of the necklace, caged in a silver net made by the chain. The missing piece stood out like an ugly, angry wound. As he reached around her neck to clasp it in place, he heard her soft sigh, saw her hand flutter up to place her fingers lightly on it.

“I thought you might like having it with you always,” he said.

“Thank you,” she breathed.

He gathered her in his arms again. “You're welcome, my love.”

 

*

They stayed at the Higurashi house for over two weeks, Inuyasha telling Kagome that it was the first vacation he had had in a long time. She knew the real reason though, he could tell by the way she would give him a small smile before nodding her acceptance. He wanted to keep her safe forever, never wanted to let her back into the fierce world that had wounded her so terribly. And, as the days passed, the marks on her arms and ankles faded and disappeared. He had tried his best, when he had first found her, to make sure no evidence of her ordeal would remain, had licked her wounds clean, had even gone so far as to rub a small amount of his own blood over them. The gash on her side, however, stayed a faint pink, stubbornly refusing to fade.

Mama Higurashi, as she insisted Inuyasha should call her, did everything she could to make sure her daughter never exerted herself too much. She let them do as they pleased, would share knowing smiles with him over Kagome's head when the couple was curled on the couch together, watching television. And, every night after dinner, she insisted that Kagome go soak in the hot springs that were just beyond the shrine, telling the young woman that the minerals in the water would do much to restore her stamina.

These became opportunities for her to talk to Inuyasha, sometimes just idle conversation, over a last cup of tea, about his business, his family, the things he had seen and done over the many years of his life. Sometimes, though, he felt as though it were an interrogation over his intentions toward her daughter, which made him have to resist the urge not to squirm under her sharp gaze.

And, one night, it was neither. They sat in a comfortable silence, neither, it seemed, having anything left to say to the other. When the tea was finished, Mama Higurashi cleared the table and then turned to him, her hands folded before her, a small smile on her face.

“Go to her,” she said, softly. “I can tell how it pains you to be away from her. And, I think, enough time has passed that she won't turn away from you.”

Inuyasha stared at the woman who had accepted him into her home and family as easily as though he were just a normal man. He wondered how she knew that sometimes at night, when he held Kagome in his arms, the young woman would shudder in the throes of violent nightmares, would wake gasping for air and would shove him away from her. The dreams had stopped a few nights ago and he had sighed in relief when he felt her relax into a deep sleep for the first time. He wondered how the older woman knew how much it tore at him every time Kagome wasn't within the protective shelter of his arms.

“Go,” Mama Higurashi said again.

Inuyasha needed no further urging. With a small nod of gratitude, he left the house, following his little dancer's scent to the hot springs.

The pools sat cradled within a copse of trees, which hung overhead, their leaves filtering the light of the moon which hung heavy and bright in the dark sky. He heard water ripple softly, heard a contented sigh as his bare feet silently fell against the warm ground. When he felt rock beneath him, he stopped and looked up.

And caught his breath, feeling his heart suddenly falter at the sight before him.

She floated on the water, gazing up at the opening in the trees, the water moving gently over her. Pale, wet flesh caught the light of the moon, making it shine. The light reflected off the water, making her ethereal form look like it was gliding through quicksilver. Dark hair floated around her, almost hidden in the shadows of the pool. He could only think, as he tried to remember how to breath again, that she looked like some sort of naiad that had emerged from the watery depths of her home.

He must have made some kind of noise, because she righted herself and turned to look at him. A beautiful smile graced her face, making his heart instantly ache, making him want to be near her. She raised her arms out of the pool and held them open to him, a silent invitation.

To suddenly feel her flesh against his again made his eyes close, made a deep rumble begin in his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, burying her fingers in his hair. He held her tightly to himself, resolving, in that moment, to never let her be away from his side again.

And, when he felt the soft flutter of her lips against his neck, trailing up his jaw, he held his breath again, not moving as she pressed them tenderly over his own.

It was like coming home, his arms around her, his warm skin pressing against hers. Kagome sighed, feeling the wound in her soul, which felt as though it matched the missing piece of the jewel around her neck, suddenly begin to pull together at the edges. He stayed perfectly still under her touch, waiting, it seemed, for her to show him what she wanted.

Her hands floated over hard muscle, velvet skin, memorizing again what she already knew so well. She slipped her legs from around his waist, reached down to intertwine her fingers with his as her lips ghosted over wet flesh.

And, when he reached a hand up to gently cup her breast, she let her head fall back, let herself revel in the feel of his mouth against her exposed neck.

Her hands dropped below the water, fingertips running along the sensitive flesh of his abdomen, his hips, before finding the hardened flesh between his legs. He grunted softly when her fingers wrapped around him, reached down and grabbed her under her legs. She wrapped them around his waist again, sighing in pleasure when his head dropped to her chest, his clever tongue licking the water from her skin, circling around her nipple before drawing it into his mouth.

She wasn't even aware they were moving until she felt smooth rock under her. He released her breast, looking up at her, reaching a hand out to brush wet bangs from her eyes before capturing her lips with his. He took a small step back, forcing her to release him and ran his hands softly up her legs, down the insides of her thighs. She closed her eyes and felt his mouth trailing liquid fire down her chest, her stomach, before his tongue reached out to lightly run along the flesh between her legs.

Kagome arched, letting her head fall back again, as his tongue worked slowly over her, as he sucked on her gently, the fire of his mouth shooting through her entire body. She pressed against his mouth as she shuddered her release, immediately reaching for him, bringing him back to her.

He lifted himself out of the water, his hips sliding easily between her legs. He held her gaze with his own as he slowly sheathed himself in her wet flesh, and, once fully connected with her, didn't move except to kiss her lightly before pulling away to look at her again.

She could feel the torn edges of her soul knitting together as he moved gently within her, could feel herself becoming suddenly, inexplicably whole again. Her fingers played along the muscles of his back, urging him deeper into herself. And, when she felt the fire ignite between her legs again, she cried out into the night; vocalizing her pleasure and an orison to the gods in the sound.