InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ A Tale of Two Worlds ❯ Forget Me Not ( Chapter 1 )

Chapter One

 

Forget Me Not

 

 

When I stirred to the unpleasant, heady stench of cinders and the high-pitched chirping of birds, I realized, without a trace of a doubt, that Inuyasha was gone, Tetsusaiga, his delightful scent, everything, gone right along with him. Wrapping the rough quilt around me in a way that wouldn't rub my skin raw, I stumbled out of the hut and into the village like an inebriated, slovenly dressed whore who seemed unaware of real clothes or even self-respect at that. There, I discovered that even the sacred jewel that Miroku had kept for safekeeping had vanished. It didn't take much for me to put two and two together then. Inuyasha wasn't coming back, and though Sango and Miroku couldn't unearth the mystery before them as easily as I could, it was like a car hiding beneath a haystack for me—so prominent and hell-bent on me unraveling it.

After I washed up and changed into some fresh clothes, I finally decided after 5-minutes of what I assumed was thorough thinking, that now was the time to leave and never look back. I didn't want to stick around and see where Inuyasha wandered off to. Neither did I want to stay and allow him to stagger back to the village and allow what little dignity I had left to fall siege under his artful control.

 

My heart felt like it had a hole in it probably the size of a fist. It hurt, and the realization part hurt even worse. I let myself plummet into Inuyasha's strong, well-matured arms and allowed his hands to dance along my feverish flesh haphazardly as I began to feel like melting silly-putty beneath them. Though I didn't want to admit it, I'd let Inuyasha sweep me away into this whole other, nonexistent world of romance that only existed in fairytales.

 

I wondered if the love that sparked alive between Cinderella and Prince Charming was temporary. I wondered if their love had only lasted up to the last page of their stereotypical tale, and then dimmed completely once the reader closed the book and set it back on the shelf, heart drowning in certainty that realistic romance honestly met standards such as those .

 

I humphed down at my oversized, yellow-suede backpack, fumbling madly to pull its flap over the countless contents backing it up. I couldn't buckle it shut and sensed the dimmer on my rage begin to fall apart.

 

“If only Kouga could see me now,” I said to myself with a crooked smile, “He'd probably say the usual and…and, for the first time, I actually won't take his words for granted.”

 

I fought ruthlessly to subdue my tears as I slid the backpack over my shoulders, flap hanging limply, unbuckled. I was fully prepared for my journey back to the Bone-Eater's well, however, my footing was reluctant and it took a lot of strength to get my legs and feet to cooperate and not crumble underneath me. When I made it to the edge of the village, Miroku, Sango, Kirara, and Shippo were already there and waiting on me with serious expressions that caused my heart to lurch.

 

Unsurely, I trudged forward. Almost as if I was leaving for a routine getaway to my time period only to come back one day later, I said goodbye to my friends, nearly choking underneath the weight of sorrow that spilled from their sad faces and the anguish that rolled off of my heart like some huge thing ready to explode.

 

“I guess it's time for me to,” I paused, not really putting any faith into the word and fell softly from my lips, “leave.”

 

Nobody said a word, and, suddenly, I felt weighted down by so much guilt that it was stifling.

 

Shippo was the first one who actually succeeded in making me fall out on my knees and weep to my heart's content. He raced into my arms and kept chanting to me in heart-wrenching words that slowly molded into a broken mantra, “Don't leave, Okaa-san. Don't leave, Okaa-san. Please, Okaa-san, don't leave.”

 

His puny nose dug into the crook of my neck, hot and moist with tears. His beautiful, leaf-green eyes were bunched shut as tears continued to leak from their ridges and dribble down his long, elegant eyelashes. His eyelashes have always been perfect. Almost as perfect as Inuyasha's.

 

I choked on a heavy, throat-clenching sob, hardly noticing the gentle pitter-patter and well measured rustle of footsteps approaching me from the front. Without a trace of forewarning and while I embraced Shippo tighter against my chest, Sango stooped down to where we were able to meet at roughly eye level. I was reluctant at first, but bit-by-bit, I pried my eyes open, already sensing the oncoming puffiness and stinging.

 

“Kagome, when will you come back?” she asked. I didn't see a single tear stain her perfectly structured face, probably because they were still welling profusely in her lower eyelid, hiding themselves from those watching. But it was only Miroku and I who truly knew she was on the verge of weeping. The villagers were still fast asleep even though the sun had raised a good distance above the horizon.  

 

“Never,” I answered lowly.

 

I peered up at Miroku with a torn face, eyes still glazed over by tears and the little bit of makeup I used to keep my mind even busier while I got dressed. I dimly hoped that the water blotches on my cheeks and underneath my chin would cover up the makeup stains, but then the thought vanished completely from my mind when Miroku spoke.

 

“We may be friends, Kagome-sama,” he started, his voice unusually deep and grave, “But what he's done to you…to us. I'll make sure I'll find him and…”

 

“Miroku!” I sobbed and began to shake my head frantically.

 

Miroku closed his eyes. Both Sango and him were still dressed in the nightgowns that the villagers supposedly lent to them when we first entered the village, “Kagome-sama, I will get him back for this. To fool you…us like that when it was obviously clear that he just wanted the jewel instead.”

 

“Miroku, please…” I pleaded.

 

Shippo choked briefly on a heavy sob. Before I knew it, Sango's wiry arms were winding around my body as she pulled herself close against Shippo's and my bodies. She was crying awfully hard judging by the wetness collecting along the chest of my thin, cotton shirt and the wet splotches forming along the thighs of my dark jeans. My school uniform was a massacre of rips, tears, and stains, so I decided to wear something cleaner.

 

“To leave like this…why are you even leaving at all?” she murmured as her grip strengthened.

 

“Yes…why, Okaa-san?” I heard Shippo ask.

 

I smiled grimly. “Because I'm not needed here anymore. I've repented for what I've done when I first set foot in this era. The jewel is complete and the life that I wanted back so many years ago is my reward.”

 

“Kagome-chan, you can't leave.” Coming from Sango that almost sounded like a demand rather than a frayed wish escaping the lips of a depressed young woman with the incandescent soul of warrior roiling inside her body.

 

I sighed and licked my lips. Carefully I tried to wriggle out of her grasp. She let me without protest, but her movements screamed unwilling.

 

Sango was still on the ground when I stood to stare Miroku straight in the eyes. Slowly, I put Shippo on the ground to where he was kneeling sordidly, his eyes glued to the beaten path that wounded into the village. I hadn't even noticed Kirara until she joined the rest of us, pouncing automatically on my shoulder and mewing, nuzzling the curve of my neck with her small, furry head like she had last night.

 

I smiled.

 

I didn't care what anyone said. That mewl was still the cutest thing I've ever heard.

 

“Kagome…” Miroku started.

 

My head immediately snapped upright. That was the first time I ever heard him use my name without any sort of meaningful honorific. I was shocked when I felt his hands cup my butt and squeeze hard as he pulled me fast against him so that my face was buried in the shallow concave where is shoulder spooned southward and merged with his chest. Kirara jumped off of my shoulder and onto the ground. I was shocked to say the least, but then came the hearty fits of laughter that rumbled through Miroku's throat and out into the open.

 

“You know something?” he asked.

 

“What?”

 

“I've always wanted to do that.”

 

His hands dropped away from my butt and gripped both of my sides in a friendly hug.

 

“Oh, Miroku…” I mumbled against the silky material of his nightclothes, “I'll miss you…all of you.”

 

“We'll…miss you, too,” he replied. Quickly, I pulled away from his comforting hug and tugged hard at the strap of my backpack to keep it from slipping off my shoulder and slowly started for the well in the forest…Inuyasha's forest.

 

I won't look back, I thought, No matter what, I won't look back.

 

“OKAA-SAN!” Shippo suddenly wailed.

 

I sniffled and several tears dribbled down my cheeks. Somehow, without my consent, my feet had broken out into a run and soon I was batting wildly with my free arm at loose twigs and vines. I'd stopped running when I arrived at the well and shoved my backpack with hysterical hands into the time slip first. Trying my best to swallow my sobs…to not let my feelings hold sway over my limbs and body…I swung my legs over the lip of the well and into the cool, sinister gloom. From what I could tell as some unknown feeling slithered underneath my pant's leg and caressed my skin, it was wet down there, but that would soon be replaced by the pungent scent of stagnant water and sake.

 

I looked up at the sky with sad eyes…sad, pleading eyes.

 

“Goodbye,” I said softly. I eagerly expected for that very word to reach Inuyasha—wherever he was—j but there was a likely chance it didn't. He was probably long gone by now, wish made, memories shredded entirely.

 

Closing my eyes, I slipped into the cool wave of darkness and drowned myself in it until a sea of amethyst and indigo enveloped me whole and spat me out on the other end. In a snap, I was normal again. I wasn't known as a priestess with allegedly impressive powers that caused most demons' vicious temperaments to waver. Here, I was nothing but a run-of-the-mill, little-miss-nice-college-girl with no boyfriend or any type of hindrances to hold her back from fulfilling her dreams. Here, nobody labeled me as the extraordinary reincarnation of Kikyo or as the priestess who always had a pigheaded, arrogant, half-demon nipping at my heels with a strange, seemingly irremovable “stink” eye marring his features with every new scent or thing-a-mabob that he encountered.

 

It may've taken a year or so, but I let thoughts regarding Shippo, Miroku, Kouga, Sango, and Kirara teeter to the side. However, it was much more difficult to discard any of the memories with Inuyasha in them. Just when I thought I'd put such reminiscences behind me, I started to feel guilty and I would run across tiny, insignificant things that would remind me of him in an instant such as my window, my stuffed, toy dog sitting on my work desk, my back-scrubber, and even my bed.

 

One night, while I was working on my math problems, I finally reached a conclusion. Because the healing process involved so much pain and torment, I thought that using what little, assessable memories I had left could act as substitute pain-killers.

 

And so, I saved some memories worth remembering, some good and some bad.

 

Eventually, I rationalized with myself that it wouldn't hurt to hold onto Inuyasha's image just for a little while longer.

 

ii. When it Rains, it Pours

Grandpa died seven years later after I came back home. My mother, Souta, and I drove to his funeral. While they mingled mindlessly with some of the family members—and guests—that bothered to show up, I was silent. I didn't want to talk to anyone.

A little while after that, my mother was struck down by a powerful bout of depression. Souta and I drove to her funeral. He mingled, laughed, and cried while I stood alongside her tombstone, never giving way to my emotions even as nightfall slipped past the pointy crown of the forest surrounding the cemetery, making the trees seem like triangular monstrosities in the moonlight. Thankfully, the moonlight warded away my fear of darkness as I silently listened to the crunching of dead leaves fade into the deathly silence.

"Kagome," Souta whispered. I could hear him approaching and for a fleeting moment, I tried to make-believe that I wasn't there, nothing but a phantom, "everybody's gone."

"So." I replied without any hesitation. Even I could sense the ruthlessness in my voice, but I tried to bite it back, "Every last one of them were practically giggling and trampling over every gravesite without a hint of remorse, just to get to their cars and drive home, to get away from this…depressing dump!" I spat out the last word. It tasted like something revolting and it dangled from the very tip of my tongue like poison.

"C'mon, sis." I still couldn't believe that after all these years, he, even now, continued to address me by that same, childish nickname, "You've never cried. You've never wept once during Grandpa's or…or Mama's funeral. And now…now I find you dumping everything on yourself."

I bowed my head. "Who said that I was putting everything on myself, ne?" I asked softly, already feeling the rage simmering deep down within my gut, "When grandpa died, I was ready to take on the future with opened arms because his death wasn't exactly unexpected. Now that Mama's gone…I don't know what else to do now."

Silence settled upon us like an irremovable anvil.

"C'mon, sis," Souta murmured and took a few more steps closer, shadow merging instantly with mine as they slithered and flittered along the grassy floor, together as one, bonding as something indestructible.

I knew he was trying to comfort me to the best of his abilities, and, for that, he merited some definite brownie points.

 

I swayed back and forth on the balls of my feet and drew my arms around myself. My fingers interlaced and I peered up towards the silky, midnight blue sky. The myriad of scattered stars and the ominous, full moon rescued it from looking pitch black, and for that, I was internally grateful.

 

Inuyasha should be in his human form tonight, I thought calmly, That is, if he hadn't already made his wish.

I sighed a few heartbeats later. Souta's brown eyes swerved sharply from Mama's tombstone and rested on me solemnly, just to lure me away from the fact that he was actually taking the timeout to mull over something, something too far in depth to be conjured in plain words. I tried my best not to ask him what was wrong and kept my opinions to myself, most of which crossed that little boundary of privacy and prying into other people's lives. Even though we were siblings, sometimes a line still needed to be drawn to separate helpful reassurance from unruly snooping.

"Hey, Souta?" I whispered. The trees seemed to murmur and coil deeper, tighter around us.

"Yeah?" he replied, short, sable hair flapping within the gentle breeze that spurred abruptly through the forest, whistled through the leaves, and swooshed along the grassy plains. Like water, it collided into the tombstones strewn all over the vacant cemetery and severed.

I drew in a deep breath and exhaled, loudly. "Have you ever wondered what it would've been like if they'd never died and if we all just lived normal lives?”

"What are you talking about?" I knew it. He was completely oblivious. He'd completely forgotten about everything.

"If I hadn't fallen into the time slip and met Inuyasha, do you actually think that my…our futures would've seemed a little bit brighter?" I repeated.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he truthfully answered. Damn it! I couldn't stand it when he acted like that. Although he was a grown man now, capable of understanding that lying was wrong, he just didn't understand the full gist of it all.

Finally, I shattered and a sigh ruptured through my lips before I mumbled discouragingly, "Never mind."

Silence swished past us, between us in a torrent of broken thoughts. Our expressions seemed identical, yet only one of us was truly hefting something more than the other atop of their back, suffering under a burdening pain that just wouldn't fade away.

Several minutes ran away with the wind until it was probably no later than ten minutes past six. Picking up on the symptoms of grogginess beginning to drain my senses, I told Souta that I was ready to go home. He drove since I didn't have my car keys—let alone my car—with me at the moment.

 

We drove past the family shrine, barely bestowing it with a glance. We got rid of it just as soon Mama died, and then reached an agreement to go our separate ways. And so we wouldn't completely fall out of each other's lives, we kept intact with each other constantly by phone.

 

Souta shipped off into the very heart of Tokyo and settled down in an apartment suite that was thankfully smack dab within his pricing range. I moved down to Hokkaido in an attempt to just live alone, to seek a new life apart from the one that I'd outgrown, the life that seemed worn and distasteful like an old hand-me-down.

I managed to buy a condo and discovered my rightful place at a local corporation called, "Symphonia Inc". They specialized in music, something I'd often wanted to become a part of ever since I graduated from high school and my options broadened drastically.

 

Everything seemed pleasantly stable for the first week I spent

 

Inuyasha said that I was a helpless dope and that music was nothing but idiotic gibberish and excessive noise. He only said that because some of the albums I owned caused him to go under a momentary lapse of hearing. One late evening, however, he nearly succeeded in making himself entirely deaf by slipping on my headphones and tinkering around with my CD player.

I giggled softly to myself as I went about rearranging some of my belongings inside of my new bedroom. The room seemed quite larger compared to my old one, but it was remarkably vacant and quiet. For once, I didn't have to worry about Inuyasha unexpectedly dropping in on me while I was doing my homework, changing, or using the bathroom. For once, I didn't have to worry about anyone but myself, and for that reason, I'd nearly broke down into a violent sob.

My throat ached. I tried to stand on my tippy-toes so that I could reach the very top shelf of my bookcase. I made sure that the picture frame that I was trying to keep from smashing on the fine, wood floors was well balanced and wouldn't teeter. It didn't and a brittle smile stretched across my lips as I sniffled pathetically and stooped down to scoop up another picture from my little cardboard box of memories.

The last picture that I'd set up was of my brother and I standing underneath the Goshinboku on a hot, summer day when we were a bit younger. The next portrait was a true Kodiak moment. It was a worn, sepia colored photo, nearly crinkled and tattered along the edges. My mother consumed the spotlight, the Goshinboku like a slender skyscraper made of seemingly smooth bark behind her as she cradled her plump tummy. She was smiling tenderly towards the camera and I could tell by her shoulder-length hair that she was only in her late teens.

I smiled and planted the frame on the shelf. I hefted the box up from the ground and left the room to squirrel it away within the hall closet. Only when I was led to believe that I was done unpacking, I'd closed the closet door and turned around to face the living room. The couch that I'd managed to get before both Souta and I sold the shrine was all white. It was huddled against the left side of the room, facing the bay window. The plastic was still wrapped around it, making it appear like the perfect gift. It would take hours to unwrap the plastic and I groaned in dismay, "It's gonna take me forever to get everything set up."

Slowly, I started further down the hallway towards the living room. The phone suddenly rang.

I sighed and my slothful pace hastened, cutting around the corner into the kitchen. I'd put the only phone that I had in my bedroom in the kitchen. It was sitting above the kitchen counter when I rushed in and I'd managed to reach it before the last ring, "Hello?"

"Hey." The voice was definitely male, a cheery, almost innocent male at that. My face contorted with the deluge of confusion flooding through me, sending various kinds of messages to my brain.

"You don't remember me, do you?" he asked.

"Not…really," I replied. Since the phone was portable, I began to walk out of the kitchen, completely oblivious towards my actions. I couldn't help it. It was a habit that I'd picked up after chatting on the phone for hours on end. I just had to move around.

"Remember high school, freshman year?"

"Not all that much," I replied nonchalantly. I was already marching up the stairs.

"Do you remember the guy that always offered you all sorts of remedies when you fell ill?" he chuckled softly and I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Hojo! I can't believe it! I thought you'd forgotten about me a long time ago.”

"No, not really," he said quite smoothly.

Wait…

"Your voice," I said softly, just one notch above being a breathy whisper, "It's…changed. It sounds deeper."

"Yeah…" I knew he was probably rubbing the back of his neck by now. He was always like that when he tried to ask me out on dates back in high school or when he found himself in too-difficult-to-handle situations, "Well, you sound…different…too."

"So…" I drummed my hand against the side of my thigh in anxiety, a bit uneasy at trying to spur up a conversation with a boy that I felt no passion for, at least, not the burning, raw sort of passion I felt for Inuyasha, "How you been?"

"Oh!" I heard him scratch his head and juggle the phone apprehensively, "I'm doing fine. I'm a doctor now at HGH."

"W—wow! You've been…busy I see." I was shocked beyond belief! To be accepted by a hospital like that was far beyond me. I was told that the people there only accepted the best of the best and I guess—I guess I was just happy that Hojo was issued out such a glorious life. He was even probably married to one of my boy-crazed friends at the rate he was going.

"Yeah, but—"

"So, how'd you manage to get my phone number?" I asked, dismissing the couple of words he was trying to say.

"Umm…" he stammered.

Right away, that told me something. Either he was a bit hesitant to snitch on his source or he knew I would get angry. Both could've been true, so I couldn't choose right away.

"I—I…"

I finally let out a meaningless sigh. My shoulders slumped down jerkily as I entered my sunlit bedroom and plunked down onto my new, queen-sized, canopy bed.

"Was it Ayumi?" I asked, quietly recounting the names of people I've told about my 'hidden' paradise.

"Not really…no," he replied.

"Eri?"

"Umm…no."

" - Yuka?"

Silence.

Bingo! Looks like we have a winner!

"What did she say?" I'd gulped roughly upon asking that question. Over the years, Yuka had turned into a real chatterbox. Though she knew at times when to keep her mouth shut, sometimes when it came to people asking her questions she had to give the whole answer. Not just half or none of it, but all of it.

"Well…" he began tentatively, "She said that—that you were moving out of Tokyo into Hokkaido, and that your…well…"

"What?" I pressed, eyes wide.

"Well…that your boyfriend…"

"Dumped me?" I finished indifferently. It's been years, but I'd known Inuyasha threw me away for the mystical power of the sacred jewel. Somehow though, over the years, it's grown easy to cope with the fact that he was the one to sever our relationship. It was neither Fate nor me, but him all on his very own.

"Yeah…"

"Hojo?" I suddenly spoke after a tense moment of silence.

"Yes…Higurashi?"

"The name's Kagome just to set things straight," I said with a light grin.

"O—okay…Ka…gome."

"And…I want to thank you for calling me today."

I heard him gulp deeply. He was probably even blushing, though I couldn't really tell.

"Uh…Higur…I mean…Kagome," he spoke bashfully, "How would you…umm…like to go to the…movies with me…tonight? I mean… so that we can catch up on some old times."

"Hojo…I…I just can—" I started to oppose his offer, but that one word that I was determined to avoid ever since I'd met him came rushing into my ears.

"Please…"

Though it took some long and thorough contemplation, I finally hung up the phone. I accepted Hojo's offer, but as a repercussion something heavy weighed down on my heart, reprimanding me for doing such a thing. I dragged myself back downstairs and began unwrapping the plastic from around the couch. Remarkably, it felt like only seconds later before I was back upstairs, everything moved in and me upstairs, dressed in a simple pair of jeans, a white tank top, and a designer's jean jacket and spread out on my bed like a carcass begging for the vultures to pick at my remains.

I turned over onto my side with a sigh. The coolness of the comfy pillows pressed against my cheek and the suppleness of the navy-blue comforter beneath me was all that I needed to lure my mind away from the fact that I was actually going on a date with Hojo Tsukinaka.

 

I barreled over onto my back.

I can't believe this is truly happening, I thought to myself while tracing the lines swirling along my bedroom ceiling with my eyes, After all these years of feeding him every kind of excuse in the book about not being able to go on a date with him, I find myself suddenly running out of them.

For some strange and utterly unknown and undoubtedly illogical reason, I found myself forking over the directions to my condo to Hojo like we were old chums who were only going to visit each other once a month in an effort to keep up with the latest. I saw the other “me” that was looking at me from inside the glassy confines of the mirror looming in front of me, phone in hand, and a disoriented expression on her face. I could hear her whispered words slip into my ears as if she was standing adjacent to me, “What in the hell are you doing? What about Inuyasha?”

 

But I forced the words out of my head before they even had a chance to settle, and switched the phone over into my other hand, nervously raising it up to my ear, “Hojo, what about a movie? There's nothing to watch on TV and I've wanted to see this movie that just came out a couple of weeks back.”

 

Hojo spoke breathlessly as if he were just getting over some shocking moment, “Great! I'll be there at about seven o' clock to pick you up.”

I turned my head to look at the digital clock perched on top of my work desk. It already read 7:10.

That's strange. I didn't know when I'd changed, but I guess time just wasn't on my side tonight. Ever since that phone call I've been a bit absentminded. I thought that I could take my mind off of things by moving furniture around and getting more settled in. Sadly, my thoughts strayed onto Inuyasha and what he was probably doing right now, back in the Sengoku Jidai. Then they ventured off onto Hojo and his unexpected offer.

Damn it! Why did all of a sudden my life felt like a lopsided, soap opera?

Crackle. Crackle. Vroom.

Involuntarily, I jumped. I swung my legs over the bed and gazed out of my window so that the dim, curvy roadway in front of my condo soaked up the limelight within my line of vision.

A red Viper pulled up in front of the garage door. Two seconds later, the roaring of the engine died and the lights dimmed as a shadowy figure stepped out of the car with a misshapen, triangular thing protruding from its fisted hand. It slammed the car door shut and made its way toward my door.

I passed a swift glance over my feet. Giddily, I thanked myself for wearing the brown, suede boots that Eri bought for me as an early birthday present this year. They didn't my feet look all that big or small. In fact, they made them look just right.

With a happy spring in my step, I bounded out of bed and downstairs to the foyer. The doorbell rang out just as I strolled down the narrow hallway. The sound of my footsteps carried throughout the entire foyer and dining room as I tip-tapped in the direction of the door.

I gripped the doorknob loosely, and let go of the air pinned up in my chest. Breathing in, I put a tight smile on my face and twisted the knob, pulling the door open as if it took all the strength I had and murmuring, once my eyes landed on his, “Hi, Hojo.”

"Hello, Higurash…Ka…gome," he answered.

I looked at him with a tender smile and my gaze dropped. It landed on the bundle of roses in his hands and in a second, he'd shoved them in front of me.

"I—I'm sorry. I—I almost forgot," he stammered.

I giggled and accepted the roses with a gentle murmur of gratitude.

"Come in while I put these in some water, okay?" I said as I stepped aside to grant him access.

He walked in timidly and I closed the door gently behind him. After another brief exchange of smiles, I leapt off into the direction of the kitchen.

I managed to find a cooking pot in the dishwasher for the roses—didn't own a flower vase—and filled one-third of it with lukewarm water. I then traipsed back into the foyer to have a light conversation with Hojo, which was, all the while, uncomfortably awkward.

Minutes passed and soon we were both primed and eager to go. He complimented me frequently on everything during the ride to Tonikawa Cinemas. He went on and on about my hair, my eyes, my skin color, my clothes, and even my 'button' nose. I was unbelievably flustered by the time we reached our destination that I'd nearly scowled at the bright lights covering the front of the theater.

Like a true gentleman, he got out of the car first and circled. He opened the door for me with a charming smile and I returned it with a friendly one of my own.

We both decided on a movie without any excessive arguing. He, just as I thought he would, let me have the first pick (there was no second). I wanted to see Van Helsing because I heard that it served as quite a good action-romance combo flick. And it was the only way I could think of to avoid any physical contact with Hojo and still be able to enjoy myself.

 

However, my sneaky stratagem to elude kissing or even remotely touching any part of Hojo, backfired without warning when I caught him sneaking quiet peeks of me out of the corners of his eyes. Though the theater was dark, it was still fairly conspicuous.

After that, I added “eye contact” to my list of things to avoid for the rest of the night.

 

When Hugh Jackman reappeared on the screen with the woman that he allegedly fell in love with, my toes nearly curled when they heatedly kissed each other. That was when my eyes wandered on him, coinciding with my stray hand as it crept into the nearly empty bucket of popcorn sitting in his lap and unknowingly touched his. Our eyes locked when he turned his head and I blushed furiously, quickly withdrawing my hand and forcing my attention to stay on the screen.

Two hours dragged by fairly quickly. We left the movie theater and decided to go out for ice cream at a quaint, local parlor. Under the fluorescent lighting, I'd realized that he'd changed so much over the years. He wasn't as scrawny as I once remembered him to be, and his hair seemed longer somehow, close to being unruly and neat all at the same time. His shoulders were slightly broader and his eyes held that well-matured masculinity of a full-grown man, yet they still held that soft, immortal light of innocence.

When Hojo sat down across from me with a small sundae, I smiled weakly and slowly dunked my spoon into my own desert and brought it back to my lips at an upside-down angle. His eyes tried to bore holes into my own. After we ate, he told me that he was going to drive me back home for the night and strangely I felt like the night was still young and that we could squeeze in a few more activities.

"Hojo," I murmured from the passenger's seat as he got into the car.

"Yes…Kagome?" he replied.

"When we get back, why not you stay over a little while longer," I spoke softly, almost embarrassingly, "It's kinda lonely being in a new place all by yourself, you know?"

He nodded sagely and said, "I know. Believe me…I know."

I smiled, glad that he understood. But my lips slowly dropped into a pensive frown when he stuck the key in the ignition and revved the engine. It roared to life while I exhaled a soft sigh and slumped further against my seat.

It felt like only a couple of minutes had passed before we pulled up into the small driveway in front of my condo. I got out of the car first and headed for the door. Hojo got out second and locked his car with a small remote. The car beeped and I felt a knee-buckling shiver roll down my spine. Before I knew it, he was behind me with a concerned frown sagging on his face. His dark brown eyes twinkled dully underneath the porch light.

Dumbly I looked down only to find myself partially flushed at the sight of bare concrete embroidered in worn bricks below me. My veranda was extremely small, so small that a lawn chair wouldn't even be able to fit without its forelegs easing off the edge.

I blushed even harder, the pressure knotting inside of my stomach feeling ready to erupt at any second. Shoot, I should've bought flowers. Probably if I got one of those plants with the dark orange petals speckled in black maybe?

"Umm…Higurashi?"

"Hmm?" My head jolted upright and I wheeled around with a strained smile.

"Are you—I mean we—are we…going in?" His hands were crammed deep within his pants pockets now and his head was set in a disorientated lilt. I looked down slowly and only then did I discover that he was wearing jeans and a button-up shirt with floppy collars. It was the first time that I'd ever seen him dressed so…casually before. He always confronted me in his school uniform and soon I'd grown use to that innocent schoolboy look. Believe it or not, it seemed more like him instead of jeans or a black shirt, or even Inuyasha's crimson fire-rat haori and parachute pants…

"Umm…Higur—"

"Kagome," I corrected indifferently. I swayed crookedly on the balls of feet, completely oblivious and distracted.

"Umm…Kagome…shouldn't we go in now?"

Nah, I thought. Hojo didn't possess that daredevil sort of elegance that was only Inuyasha. He didn't own Inuyasha's sinuous mane of silver that sometimes had me frowning, heart aching with envy. And as for his traditional, arrogant smirk, he didn't possess that either. Hojo was just…Hojo, someone normal, oddly predictable, and dense. Inuyasha was just Inuyasha, someone both death defying and wondrous, someone who, with a simple touch, brought some unknown feeling to stir inside of me.

"Ka—Kagome?"

"Yeah," I slowly answered.

So I miss him, I thought courageously. That's…all right…right? I wonder what he's doing right now? It's been years and I probably look like a crumpled dumpling. He probably looks the same and with Kikyo by his side…he probably looks…even better.

"Kagome?" The apprehension in Hojo's voice deepened, becoming even more noticeable.

The keys in my hand slipped, clanging loudly onto the concrete. There was silence, nothing but silence and the diluted, amber glow of the porch light hovering close beside us. Moths began to swarm around us. I felt the feather light caress of one of their wings brush across my nose and cheek and I shivered. My breath hastened and my heart jumped.

"I miss him," I murmured quietly, "I miss him so damn much." A light breeze encircled us. It swept across my face and the first thing that slipped into my mind was cold and heartless. That was before my cheeks began to burn with some unusual fire kindling inside of me, a fire that slowly warmed and mended my broken heart.

Suddenly, I realized that Hojo was there, standing quietly in front of me…extremely concerned…probably growing tired of my old middle-school antics…and…holding me. He was holding me, embracing me with strong, steady arms. I wanted to shove him away and grab my keys and run, I wanted to run to my car and drive off into the starless night.

Anywhere would be perfect, I thought. Just…anywhere. I want to forget about him and all about the life we had with one another. I want him out of my mind…his very name…his very smell. Damn it! I just want him gone, erased completely from my memories. If only…

Numbly, I looked up into Hojo's mud-brown eyes. I could practically see myself in them, my distressed expression and all. Hojo's eyes were like a portal, a cavernous portal to something I didn't quite understand. I found myself drowning in the small pool of darkness settled in between their chocolaty irises and without a moment's notice, I was standing on the tips of my toes and gradually leaning forward. I felt like silly putty in his hands and I was determined to hold onto that one feeling.

If only I could find a way to forget about him and the silly games he's put me through…

My hands fisted tightly into the fabric of his shirt, yet I continued to lean inward.

I want him back, but he's put me through so much…

The very tips of our noses touched. I bit my lower lip, as did he. Our breaths mingled and soon became labored, careful and heavy.

And he's right here, waiting for me to kiss him, ready for me to make love to him again. It's mutual, the feelings raging within us.

Our lips caressed, and just as I thought they would, they melded perfectly.

 

The kiss was wet and purely sexual. I lifted my hands and buried my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. The hands spooned against the curve of my back were hesitant, gently moving up and down. The only sounds that emerged out of the murky silence were smacking and the monotonous hiss of skin rubbing against clothing.

I want this and he wants this to…I can feel it…

I nipped at his bottom lip and his mouth opened slowly, somewhat timidly. My tongue delved into his mouth and tapped his lovingly.

I don't want this to end…

Carefully, my hands slid down to the waistline of his jeans. I felt my chest jerk slightly and my heart skip a painful beat.

Please…don't ever let this end.

I broke the kiss and dazedly stared at his lips.

"I—I love you," I whispered huskily, and without a second thought, I wrenched him closer to me and embraced his lips with mine.