InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Dancing with Scissors ❯ Brahms in the Park, Three Little Words, and a Deepening Friendship ( Chapter 16 )

A/N Just need to paraphrase the disclaimer at the beginning of the first chapter—this fic has mature themes and is intended for adults. Thanks.

 

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Dear Scarlet, Two weeks ago my boyfriend and I started having sex. The intercourse is great, and I give him head, but he refuses to do the same for me. He says he thinks it's sick and can't understand why anyone would want his face down there. Lesbians give him the creeps more than child molesters. My first boyfriend went down on me and seemed to like it. I feel like I'm being unreasonable in expecting this, but it was sooo nice. What should I do? Signed, Missing Tongue On My Snatch

 

Dear Snatch, Break up with him. Now. NEXT

 

Dear Scarlet, My boyfriend masturbates to a lot of adult sites on the web and has recently been fixated on ass-then-mouth pornography. There is one particular video where the guy fucks the girl in her ass, and then he takes her thong, shoves it up her butt, fucks her some more, then takes the thong out and gags her with it. My boyfriend thinks it's really sexy and has been pressuring me to recreate this or at least suck him after anal. I don't think this is sexy at all, in fact I think it's really, REALLY gross. Can you please tell me something about germs or whatever, so I have an excuse for when I tell him no? Signed, I Have My Limits

 

Kagome closed her eyes and tried to find her happy place. Why are people so clueless and spineless, she wondered. Rin, humming to herself and playing on the living room floor with DUPLO bricks, was the picture of childish sweetness. The combination of that scene and the words on her laptop screen made her eyes burn and her head scream.

 

Dear Limits, I will in no way issue a blanket condemnation of porn; it has its place in a free society, and I don't condone censorship in any way. But your boyfriend has become a victim of Too Much Of A Good Thing. Just as a diet of nothing but sweet stuff leads to poor health and dental problems, a steady diet of porn leads to unrealistic expectations—both in how real people look and how real people behave. The smut industry is a competitive one, and like other media, it needs to constantly up the ante in order to stay relevant and meet the demands of an increasingly desensitized audience. Once upon a time plain old anal was hard core…then it became double penetration, then triple, then triple double and somewhere along the line that was not titillating enough and ATM was cutting edge. Now it's fairly commonplace, though I must admit the addition of the thong is a clever twist. Your boyfriend is obviously very turned on by the taboo kinkiness and has developed a fantasy centered around the idea; for some the dirtier the act, the more aroused they become.

 

Now on to the question portion of your email. We all know what that hole is for, and there will of course be some risk of e. coli bacteria and intestinal parasites, however any blood-born viruses, such as hepatitis A, that you may already have—you can't reinfect yourself. And likewise if you don't have it, this act won't spontaneously create it. I've discussed the safety of rimming in previous columns (perhaps you could refer to the online archives of this column), though that is slightly different because one person's mouth is on another person's ass. Honestly, anal-then-vaginal sex is more risky for you from a health standpoint. I'd like to ask you though, Limits, what is wrong with simply telling your boyfriend that you don't find this sexy and are completely uninterested? You shouldn't need an “excuse”. Tell him No Means No, or if you prefer, No Means Hell No, Now Quit Fucking Asking Me. If he respects you as a person and a partner, that should be enough. I feel there is room for compromise here however. He can fuck your ass using a condom, then remove it and you can blow him. If he is unable to tweak his filth fantasy to accommodate your ick factor, you may want to reevaluate his attitude of objectification toward women in general and you specifically, especially considering the Gag Me With A Thong aspect of his favored wank material. There are of course people who get off on humiliation in a dom/sub context—when done with safety precautions ATM could be an interesting, enjoyable option in their bag of tricks, but in the real world, I suspect there are few gay men and fewer women willing to perform this particular act with the abandon of a porn star; I know of none. Perhaps, Limits, all your boyfriend needs is a reminder that the porn actresses he watches are getting paid to do what they do; that may deflate his kinky, forbidden bubble.

 

I realize that there some rabble-rousing readers out there who are contemplating a double standard in the advice in this week's column. Why, they will ask, should the first letter writer break up with her boyfriend for his unwillingness and the boyfriend of the second letter writer just have to deal with her unwillingness? Well…don't go there. I always encourage my readers to open themselves up to their partners' kinks and fantasies, and I also stress that respect in a relationship is paramount. I feel I've not violated these tenets in my advice. I would not want a partner who is obsessed with the idea of me eating my own shit (even if microscopic), and I would be equally uninterested in a partner who has an obvious loathing of my sexual organs. NEXT

 

Dear Scarlet, I have boyfriend problems. I'm a twenty-four year-old woman dating a successful, gorgeous man, who is unfortunately completely hung up on his ex. They didn't go out for that long, and it was years ago, but it is obvious that he still loves her. They maintained their friendship, and when we are out together, we see this woman a lot. To her credit, she doesn't do anything to encourage him and always seems uncomfortable when he touches her or talks about when they dated, but he just doesn't get it. I hate this. I don't want to have his past relationship hanging over us. He treats me well and I love him, but I just can't stand the thought that he would drop me in a second to get back together with her. My mother and sisters think I'm insane for thinking about breaking up with him, that I might not ever find anyone as good as he is, and that if I stick with him, someday he'll recognize my faithfulness and love me even more for it. I am totally confused. Should I end it, or just be happy with what I can get? Signed, Tired Of Being In The Shadow

 

Kagome sighed sadly. Dear Ayame, she composed in her head.

 

“My Uncle's here,” Rin announced with calm certainty. A moment later there was a knock at the door, and Kagome shut her laptop lid, happy with the start she'd gotten on her column. She watched with a grin as Oberon and Rin competed for Sesshoumaru's attention, Rin well-aware that the dog outweighed her by over one hundred pounds and his wagging tail, though wielded unconsciously, was a deadly weapon. “See the new clothes Kagome made me,” she said, twirling in circles. She was wearing a colorful, tiered skirt, ivory peasant blouse, and lacy black shawl.

 

Kagome stood and stretched. “Rin and I were listening to the music we're going to hear tonight, and I was telling her about the Romantic Period and the interest in national folk songs, and she decided she needed a wardrobe addition. Fortunately I had all kinds of clothes left over from my Stevie Nicks phase and just scavenged the fabric. She looks like she's going to a Rainbow Gathering,” Kagome conceded, “but I tried my best.”

 

Rin stopped spinning and careened dizzily, giggling like a drunk. Sesshoumaru caught her before she fell into the dog. “You remind me of your father. When we were children he loved to spin around until he fell down.” Sesshoumaru didn't add that he sometimes joined his brother and the two would lie together on the lawn as the world tilted and lurched, slowly returning to normal.

 

“Ah, the beginning of his life-long love of thrill rides. You may not know this, but the reason Inuyasha and Kikyou honeymooned in Japan was so he could ride the Steel Dragon 2000 when it opened. At the time it was the world's tallest roller coaster.” Kagome handed Sesshoumaru a basket and picked up a folded quilt.

 

“An amusement park? Not very romantic.” They bid the dog goodbye and left the guesthouse, Rin clutching Sesshoumaru's free hand.

 

“Maybe not, but the Sakakibara Onsen he took her to afterward more than made up for it,” Kagome snorted.

 

Sesshoumaru raised an eyebrow, thinking that apparently his brother was capable of redeeming himself; the Sakakibara Onsen was one of the best in Japan.

 

“What's in the basket?” Rin asked casually, hoping the answer was some sort of dessert.

 

Kagome knew exactly what she was fishing for. “A bottle of Chardonnay, a bottle of sparkling grape juice, three unbreakable wine glasses, and a corkscrew.” She saw the annoyance on Rin's face and decided to let the girl off the hook. “And some chocolate-covered strawberries.”

 

“Yay!” she sang, skipping ahead of them.

 

Sesshoumaru watched her go and laughed softly. “Has a sweet tooth, does she?”

 

“Yeah, most kids do.” She slyly took in his appearance as they followed Rin to the garage. His tailored tan pants emphasized his strong, male leanness and the crisp white shirt made his long hair take on a silvery sheen. Kagome mentally took a fast, cold shower. “Sooo…you had a date with Kagura last night. Did you get lucky,” she asked with a suggestive note to her voice, elbowing him playfully.

 

He looked down at her with distaste. “None of your business, Kagome.” His dinner with Kagura had been most unpleasant. At the beginning of the evening he had actually considered sleeping with her, this despite the fact that she would take it as a sign she should start picking out the bridal stationery. He wanted to rid his mind of Kagome, attributing his growing attraction to her to his months' long lack of a sex partner, but Kagura's petty meanness, sense of entitlement, and non-existent sense of humor only made him realize whose company he would rather be in. It disturbed him to know that his attraction apparently went beyond the physical, though it bothered him even more that Kagome thought he and Kagura were lovers.

 

She slowed and laid a hand on his arm. “Sesshoumaru, I'm sorry. I promise I will do everything in my power to avoid teasing you, asking inappropriate questions, sticking my foot in my mouth, and acting like an idiot tonight. But I'll ask for your forgiveness in advance…it's inevitable that I revert to default mode at some point.”

 

“Don't worry, Kagome,” he said. “I wouldn't dream of putting your true personality on a leash.”

 

“Hurry UP!” Rin yelled, impatiently waiting by the car.

 

“Ooo can I drive? Pleaseletmedrive! Pleeeeease! Just say yes, you know want to,” she pleaded, eyes wide and sparkling.

 

“No.” There was a trace of amusement in the stern reply; Kagome's wink told him she noticed it too.

 

XxXxX

 

The trio made their way with the other concert-goers to the vast expanse of lawn in front of the amphitheater of Volunteer Park. It was an old park with tall oaks, situated on a high elevation, sporting a breathtaking view of the city's downtown, skyline backlit by the lazy setting sun. It was a common romantic destination for first dates and anniversaries. A couple walking next to them commented on Rin's cuteness and mentioned that she was a perfect combination of her parents. Rin briefly looked confused, then danced in front of her aunt and uncle, excited about the prospect of being out with her two most favorite people. As they scouted a spot to lay the blanket, a boy with red hair barreled into Rin, knocking her to the ground.

 

“Shippou!” she squealed. “You're here too?” The two children rolled around giggling.

 

“Hey, Jason!” Kagome greeted, as Shippou's dad rushed up. “I wasn't expecting to see you here!”

 

Jason, relieved his enthusiastic son would do no lasting harm, said, “Kagome, Sesshoumaru, good to see you. My sister plays second violin in the orchestra. Shippou needs to go directly to the playground and burn off some steam if I'm going to last through the entire performance. Can Rin come with us? I'll make sure she's back before too long.”

 

“Oh she'd love it!” Kagome exclaimed. “We'll be around here somewhere.”

 

Rin scampered off with her friend and his father, and Kagome spread the blanket out on the lush grass. “Shippou's other dad, Alec, is a pilot and is out of town a lot. It's kinda this running joke I have with Jason that his other half doesn't exist, because I've never met him. Rin says he's really funny…always has candy in his pocket.”

 

Sesshoumaru examined the large quilt as Kagome straightened it. A riot of warm oranges and reds, the scene looked like an impressionist painting of a forest in autumn, but on closer inspection, he realized it was made up of hundreds and hundreds of small squares and wondered how many hours went into its creation. “This is lovely. Did you make it?” he asked as they sat.

 

“Thanks, yeah. I made it in high school…my first watercolor quilt, and it took me close to a year. Usually a person's first attempt is smaller and simpler, but I went a little overboard. Kinda famous for biting off more than I can chew,” she confessed. “It just about killed me in college.”

 

“What did you get your degree in?” he asked, wanting to know more about her.

 

Kagome laughed self-consciously. “After sampling about ten different majors, I ended up with a BFA and a minor in English.”

 

“Why not music? You obviously have talent.”

 

She blushed lightly at the compliment. “Music…music for me has just always been around. In our house it was part of the fabric of daily life,” she explained. “It would have been like majoring in eating or breathing.” She took out the wine bottle and corkscrew. “I gravitated toward the arts, but also wanted something more academic. When I started I was focused on photography, but second semester freshman year I took a textile class and was hooked. I'm a very tactile person by nature…I like to touch things. I had done a lot of sewing in high school and loved making clothes, so when I started weaving I knew fiber art was my true calling.” She poured a glass of white wine and offered it to Sesshoumaru. He took it, and his silence encouraged her to continue. “I'm really lucky to be able to make a living off my passion. In the beginning I did a lot of art fairs, which paid the bills and got me exposure. I started making custom wedding dresses to supplement my income and occasionally taught classes, but now I'm fortunate to be able to do only commission and gallery work.”

 

She finished her soliloquy and looked at him. He regarded her with interest, and she became cognizant of the situation—the two of them, stretched out, lounging on the quilt-covered ground, sharing a bottle of wine—and got the feeling, long-dormant, that she was out on a date and anxiously hoped Rin would get back soon and diffuse the intimacy. He was undeniably attractive, but she was still firmly in No Dating Mode and was unprepared to venture beyond. Not to mention, she reminded herself harshly, he would never like you that way. They quieted, watching the sun as it lowered further, and the Orchestra started, the opening strains of Brahms first Hungarian Dance floating through the summer evening warmth to settle on them languidly.

 

“Tell me more about these custom wedding gowns,” he said after a few minutes. “You mentioned them before, but in a decidedly negative tone.”

 

“Yeah, totally negative. Lucrative financially…not worth the headache and wanting to kill people.” His curious expression demanded an elaboration. “I was at an art fair and the Goth chick-jewelry artist in the booth next to me was recently engaged,” Kagome explained. She liked my work, and we got to talking, and I told her I would make her dream wedding dress—black tulle with velvet underbust corset and fishnet sleeves. I thought it would be fun, but it turned out that she was the first in a long line of Bridezillas.”

 

“Bridezilla?” He'd never heard the term before, but could reasonably extrapolate the meaning based on the two root words.

 

“In a nutshell, when a perfectly normal, or even a creative, black-wearing, left-leaning non-conformist, woman goes completely apeshit in the planning of her wedding. She obsesses about every detail, micromanaging to the point that everyone around her thinks she has become a monster, ready to demolish Tokyo, or whatever doomed city, in order to make her day perfect. Custom wedding dresses pay big money because Bridezillas have no concept of frugality or rationality, but seriously…I wanted to fucking pull my hair out when I dealt with them…and their surrogates, Bridesmaidzillas.”

 

Sesshoumaru laughed. “I can see why you aren't eager to pursue that line of work again.”

 

Kagome soaked up the sound; though fleeting, it was deep and steady, and she instantly recognized it in his father's chuckle, reveling in his superior Cribbage hand, and Inuyasha's unguarded, honest glee. She had no idea laughter was genetic.

 

They continued to listen in comfortable silence, Kagome content in their slowly progressing friendship and Sesshoumaru contemplating the consequences of acting on his impulse to seduce her.

 

“Ahh memories,” Kagome sighed as the fifth Hungarian Dance began. “Kikyou and I played this for four hands junior year of high school…took first place in the state music competition. I don't know if it was a twin thing or what, but we played better together than we did solo.”

 

“Which part did you play?”

 

“Primo. I suck at pedalling, so Kikyou was Secondo.” She paused, sipping wine. “What about you? You said you kept up with lessons…were you any good?” she asked, a peevish smile on her unguarded face.

 

“I was accepted into The Juilliard School,” he answered simply.

 

She whistled. “Juilliard? Damn…they only accept the best of the best.” Clearing impressed, her glance strayed down to his large, well-shaped hands, and she remembered being overcome by an urge to touch. Then she remembered something else. Eyes narrowing in confusion she said, “Wait a minute…I thought you said you went to Harvard.”

 

“I did. My father disapproved of music as a career and insisted I study business.”

 

Kagome was taken aback. “That's…not very supportive,” she faltered. “Shit! Juilliard is the most selective, prestigious conservatory in the country.”

 

“He was only thinking of my future. And he was correct, of course. I had a responsibility to make the most of my opportunities and not waste all the investment in my education.” He recalled the crushing weight of not wanting to disappoint his father. “Inuyasha was teetering on the edge of expulsion, and my family didn't need any more strife.”

 

Kagome studied him, somewhat incredulous at his story and dysfunctional family. “Always the dutiful son,” she commented dryly. “What did your mother think? I mean, your father's disapproval of Juilliard must have stung, especially considering her marriage to him is what cut her own musical career short.”

 

Sesshoumaru was thoughtful for a moment. He remembered how proud she was when he told her he'd been admitted to Juilliard and wondered if she had ever secretly wished he had defied his father. “I never asked her.”

 

“So…this explains a lot.” Kagome nodded sagely, as though she'd just had a revelation. “The reason you and Inuyasha couldn't stand each other. He stood up to your father and followed his own path. You're resentful that he did what he wanted and you did what you were told.”

 

He looked at her coldly. “Don't be ridiculous. I wasn't resentful of my brother. He was an ungrateful, irresponsible miscreant, and—”

 

“I think, on some deep, unknown level,” she interrupted, laying a hand on his arm, “you're a little jealous that he lived his life the way he chose. You know, when Inuyasha recognized that he was jealous of you, for being such a perfect son when he was such a fuck-up, he let go of a lot of old hostilities and started to respect you…even like you, despite your differences. Perhaps if you understand your past resentments, you'll end up being impressed with him.”

 

Sesshoumaru wished that murder was socially acceptable. He didn't know if he found her words or her patient, understanding attitude more irritating. “Thank you for your dime-store psychoanalysis, Doctor Kagome,” he sneered. His scornful sarcasm made her flinch and she removed her hand.

 

“I'm not trying to make fun or anything,” she defended herself, feeling guilt that she had scratched a wound that may not be ready to be exposed. “I'm merely stating that if you open up to your past regrets, you may—”

 

“I have no regrets,” he said forcefully. “I graduated summa cum laude from Harvard and got an MBA from MIT Sloan. I took over my father's corporation and expanded it, transforming this city into an unparalleled success story; I'm at the height of my career.”

 

She was unfazed. “Yeah, and what do you have besides money and a corner office to show for it?” she asked softly.

 

“If you are trying to imply that I'm unhappy, Kagome, don't.”

 

“Sesshoumaru, I'm sorry.” She shook her head, hating the direction their conversation had taken. “I meant no offense. Can we go back to gently picking on each other?”

 

He appreciated her conciliatory overture and placed her hand back on his arm. “You're a more exasperating pestilence than even my brother.”

 

“Sooo Mr. Smarty-Pants…Juilliard, Harvard, and MIT. You're like some kind of pathological overachiever or something,” she taunted. The strain had dissipated, to the relief of both of them, but it evaporated completely when Rin, flushed from playing, bounded back into their midst.

 

“I'm thirsty,” she announced, flopping down in between the two adults. “May I please have something to drink?”

 

Kagome sat up and smiled at the courteous manners. “I see your grandmother has been a good influence on you.” She took out the sparkling grape juice from the cooler inside the basket and poured Rin a glass. Rin's eyes grew wide and happy when she noticed it was a grown-up wine glass just like the ones her uncle and aunt had.

 

“I was told you spent the afternoon with your grandparents,” Sesshoumaru said. “What did you do together?”

 

“Me and grandfather played cards. He's teaching me some Japanese words too.”

 

“Really?” Kagome asked, lying back down. “I wanna hear!”

 

“Namae wa Rin desu. Watashi wa go-sai desu.”

 

“Cuuute!” Kagome squeaked. “What's it mean?”

 

“My name is Rin. I am five years old. I can count to ten too…except I keep getting stuck on nine.”

 

“Well,” Kagome prompted, “lay it on me.” She decided not to remind Rin that she was still only four.

 

She took a deep breath and concentrated. “Ichi, ni, san, yon, go, roku, nana, hachi…I can't remember,” she scowled.

 

“Kyuu,” Sesshoumaru helped.

 

Rin grinned. “Kyuu!” she sang. “Then juu. That's ten.”

 

“I wanna learn Japanese!” Kagome laughed, grabbing Rin and tickling her. “You are so cute it slays me. What else did you do at the big house?”

 

Rin giggled and squirmed to escape from Kagome's hands, seeking refuge in her uncle's arms. “Grandmother told me a story about my Daddy. How he got his name.” Both Kagome and Sesshoumaru were interested; neither had heard this before. “Before Daddy was born Grandmother was sick and in the hospital. She was afraid she was gonna die and something bad would happen to her baby. She dreamed that there was a big dark forest and she was lost in it and she heard a baby crying and a little boy's voice calling `Mama'. Then a demon that looked like a big white dog came and even though he was kinda scary, she knew she should trust him and followed him and he showed her the way out. So when Daddy was born and the doctor asked what his name would be, Grandmother said `Inuyasha'. Grandfather thought it was a dumb name, but he was just happy that Grandmother was okay so he said the name was Inuyasha too. She said it means dog spirit.”

 

“Awww…that's so sweet,” Kagome sniffed, barely able to suppress her tears. “I don't think Inuyasha ever knew that.”

 

“Kagome,” Rin scolded, irritation apparent, “no crying!” The girl turned to her uncle, who had a much better handle on his emotions. “What does your name mean?”

 

Sesshoumaru regarded the petite girl, again surprised at the trust and affection on her pretty little face and the warmth it made him feel. “Sesshoumaru is an old Taisho family name; the exact meaning has been a matter of contentious discussion, but all the translations have rather destructive, violent connotations.”

 

“What? Like…I Eat Kittens or something?” Kagome teased, obviously recovered from her attack of sentimentality.

 

Kagome wore a friendly expression similar to Rin's, though with none of the child's innocence, and he felt contentment in their company. “Something like that.”

 

“Can we have those strawberries now?” Rin yawned.

 

As darkness descended, shadows lengthened and enveloped them, and the lively music continued to dance around the park. “I think someone might fall asleep in the car on the way home,” Kagome whispered.

 

XxXxX

 

Sesshoumaru carried Rin, limp like a ragdoll, into the bathroom while Kagome let the dog out and fed him. He woke and assisted the zombie-like girl in brushing her teeth, then guided her into a nightgown and tucked her into bed.

 

“Rub my back,” she demanded sleepily, rolling over onto her front. He complied, feeling the tininess of his niece, her vulnerability, her potential. Soon her breathing was deep and slow, and he stood. The shifting bed woke her enough to mumble, “I love you, Uncle Sesshoumaru.”

 

He tried to think of the last time anyone had said those three words to him and failed. And the last time he had been the speaker was equally gone and forgotten. “I love you too, Rin.” He turned and saw Kagome hurry out of the doorway. He found her in the kitchen wiping at her eyes.

 

“I'm reminded of some Decemberists lyrics,” she said, taking some limes out of the refrigerator. “`Some had crawled their way into your heart, to rend your ventricles apart.' She did that to me the moment she was born—marked her ownership of my heart and soul. I've never been the same since. I get the impression it just happened to you.” Their eyes locked. “Thank you,” Kagome said seriously, “for loving her back. She needs it.”

 

So do I, he admitted to himself. “She's hard not to love,” he replied neutrally.

 

“I was just about to make myself a gin and tonic; can I interest you in one?”

 

Sesshoumaru was much more a whiskey drinker, but gin did sound refreshing on the warm evening. “Yes, thank you.”

 

“Goody!” she exclaimed. “Now I have an excuse to pull out the top shelf booze.” She took a bottle of Bombay Sapphire from the freezer. While she mixed drinks they chatted about the laudatory reviews of Arrow's last performance, the popularity of bootlegged videos of it on You Tube, and the fledgling internet campaign to recruit Kagome to join Arrow. “I'm hoping it will just die a quiet death,” Kagome declared as they walked outside to sit on the patio, dog plodding behind. “The other night was a ball, but it's just not what I want to do.”

 

“Why did you quit originally?” he asked. “You mentioned you'd tell me one day.”

 

Fear and doubt briefly clouded her face, but she attempted a smile. “I guess if we are going to be spending time together, I should tell you.” She took a deep breath and shakily let it go. “My friends and I refer to it as The Incident, but a more accurate label would be My Lost Year…it's kinda more than one specific thing. It's a long, not very pretty story; are you sure you're that interested?”

 

“I have all night, but you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to,” he answered, recognizing her apprehension and trying to set her at ease.

 

More relaxed, Kagome still nervously played with a coaster. “Let me start at the beginning. The year 2000 was a really good year for me. Kikyou and I had gotten a bunch of college credits in high school, had packed schedules, and took summer classes, so we were able to graduate that spring, after only three years, saving us an assload of money. Arrow had formed that March, and we started getting a lot of gigs, garnering a devoted local fan base, and began work on a demo. Most important, I landed a contract with a fabric and fiber wholesaler, which was huge. They make you jump through all sorts of hoops to prove you are a legitimate business, but it meant that I could get materials at cost and do art as an occupation, actually making money, instead of having to pay retail prices, limiting me to being a small-scale hobbyist.” She sighed wistfully, remembering. “Kikyou and Inuyasha got married that summer. And I finally got Sango and Miroku together…not that either of them made it easy. I was happy; my closest friends were happy. I felt like I was leading a charmed, perfect life.” She leaned back and looked up into the inky night sky, lit by the glowing moon. “Late that year I started seeing some guy at shows. He was clean-cut and preppy-looking…not my type, and I didn't really notice him too much until he started turning up at the sandwich shop I worked at. He asked me to go to a New Year's Eve party with him, and I wasn't doing anything so I decided `what the hell'.” She finished her drink.

 

“There's gin and tonic water in the bar behind us,” Sesshoumaru offered, so she wouldn't have to walk back to the guest house.

 

“Thanks.” Kagome quickly made herself another beverage, careful not to make it too strong. Her history and copious amounts of alcohol were never a smart combination. “So I ended up back at this guy's place. Now, I'm into getting tied up as much as the next girl, or at least I used to be. I was never as into it as my sister and Inuyasha, but I'm pretty sexually adventurous and open-minded so when he started to get rough and pulled out a blindfold, my alarm bells stayed silent and I thought `so this Ken Doll is a kinkster—who knew?' and just played along. Until he brought me into his bedroom and I peeked through the blindfold. I kid you not, he had hand cuffs pre-attached to his bed posts, a spanking horse, and a St. Andrew's Cross. Basically it was Kikyou and Inuyasha's ideal playground, but I've never been that submissive in bed and totally got the creeps. When he started calling me a bad girl in need of punishment for taking off the blindfold, my alarm bells suddenly were enough to deafen me, so I said `fuck this shit', grabbed my shirt, and couldn't get out of there fast enough.”

 

Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed with concern. “That sounds frightening.”

 

“Oh it gets better,” she said ruefully. “So I thought that it was done, but this guy…his name is Mason…totally ruined that name for me, turned into a full-blown stalker. He was everywhere. For two weeks I saw him at work, in the neighborhood, at bars. I called the cops, but they couldn't do anything because it's not against the law to be in a public place. He wasn't calling me or harassing me; he was just there. I started getting crazy-paranoid, afraid to leave my apartment, afraid to go to sleep. Kikyou and Inuyasha were really worried, and one day when Inuyasha was checking up on me at work, he saw Mason and threatened him. The cops were called—isn't that lovely? This guy was making my life a living hell, and Yasha was the one almost arrested. Anyway, he disappeared for a week, and I thought the nightmare was over.” She picked up a beverage napkin and began shredding it. “Then one night, late January, I had to close, and my co-worker who was supposed to walk me home, got sick half-way through her shift. I didn't want to be a burden and thought I'd be fine, so I just went home.” She was silent a moment. “Mason followed me into my apartment and beat the living shit out of me. I don't remember very much. Kikyou was overcome by a feeling that something was wrong, so she called Inuyasha and asked him to check on me. He tended bar a few blocks from where I lived. He found me and called EMS. I was unconscious, bloody and bruised, with a concussion, two broken ribs, and a ruptured spleen.”

 

Her face was an unreadable mask, the first time Sesshoumaru had seen her anything other than transparent.

 

“I almost died.”

 

Sesshoumaru took the destroyed cocktail napkin from her hands and gave her a new one, gaining an appreciative half-smile.

 

“I was in the hospital and rehabilitative therapy for a month. The trial came quickly, end of April. I, of course, had to testify. It was awful,” she shuddered. “Like going through it all over again. The defense tried to bring in my sexual history, an attempt to portray us as lovers who were into violent sex, and it just happened to get out of hand. Thank every fucking god above and below, the judge didn't allow it. Mason Harrison was convicted of Second Degree Assault and sentenced to five to ten.”

 

The ripping of the napkin increased. “Somehow I doubt this is the end of the story,” Sesshoumaru observed gently.

 

Kagome shook her head. “Everyone told me that testifying would give me closure…that it would be cathartic and empowering. Really…it was terrifying, having to face him. When it was all over, I felt no closure, no sense that some chapter had closed and life could go on. I just felt scared and alone. The year before, the world was at my feet—I was confident and happy and ready for anything. At the end of the trial, I didn't even recognize myself. I was…immobilized. Petrified. I knew my assailant was behind bars, but I still saw him everywhere. I was too afraid to sleep. Had no appetite. I couldn't even do art. Everyone I knew had their normal lives; Kikyou was a raging success in the band, and she and Inuyasha were talking about having a baby…I was adrift with no purpose, no reason to breathe air. My close friends knew something was wrong, but I had no words to express how I felt or the help I needed. Now I know I was kicking Post Traumatic Stress Disorder with a vengeance, but then…all I knew was nothing.”

 

Sesshoumaru handed her a stack of napkins and waited patiently for her to continue.

 

“In September, after months of not working, not existing, I couldn't take it anymore.” She heaved a sigh. “Kikyou had the sensation again that something was bad with me and after repeated phone calls unanswered, she called Inuyasha at work. He barged into my apartment and wrestled the knife away from me before I could hurt myself, but he got cut in the process. The next-door neighbors heard the Jerry Springer-style screaming and called the cops. I don't know how Inuyasha lied to make them think it was a simple domestic disagreement or misunderstanding to keep them from hauling me off to the psych ward, but he managed. He and Kikyou packed up all my stuff and moved me into the top floor of their apartment and for days wouldn't leave me alone. But eventually they had to go back to work. Inuyasha, knowing my soft spot for animals, found an Irish Wolfhound on a rescue website and adopted him and gave him to me, saying the dog needed me and now I had something to live for. He was so damn smart,” she laughed lightly, reaching down and petting Oberon. “That poor dog, sorely neglected and dying for attention…for the first two weeks we just laid on the couch together, needing each other. He kept me from even thinking about suicide again, and I got over the hump. So Inuyasha saved my life twice…three times.” She brushed all the napkin debris into a neat, large pile. “And slowly I achieved normal again…aided by fabulously supportive friends and several hundred hours on my therapist's couch.”

 

“Kagome,” he began, unsure of how to respond, “I'm sorry such a thing happened to you. I had no idea you had such a traumatic event in your past.”

 

“I'm better now. I can't say I don't wish it never happened, but it's part of who I am, and I treat each day as a gift and try my best to live life exuberantly, without doubt, without shame. It's made me a stronger person. I tend not to take shit from anybody, and I never let my emotions stay bottled up.”

 

“I noticed,” Sesshoumaru said, voice absent sarcasm.

 

She rose and tossed the visible evidence of her anxiety into the trash can. The scraping of a chair was heard, and she felt Sesshoumaru's presence behind her. Turning, she searched his face, praying not to find disapproval or worse, pity. As usual his expression was serious and calm, and she had no idea what he was thinking. “I'm sorry to lay all this on—”

 

“Kagome,” he interrupted, “thank you for confiding. I hope you know you can trust me.”

 

She nodded gratefully, biting her lip to avoid being overcome by emotions and quickly wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. She felt him hesitate only a moment, then strong arms encircled her, and she felt protected. “It's nice to have people to trust. Thank you, Sesshoumaru, for listening. I can tell you'll be a close friend.”

 

The woman he held, body slender and soft, radiated an enigmatic combination of strength and vulnerability, joy and sadness. Her curves and tightly toned muscles were committed to memory, as were the scent of her perfume, now faint, and the satin luster of her hair, glossy in the moonlight. Reluctantly he let her go when she pulled away.

 

“I suppose we should go bed now.” With horror she became aware of her vague wording. “I…I uhh mean,” she stammered, “separately. Go to bed separately. Of course…'cause you don't want to…uhh…sleep with me.” She tittered self-consciously, blushing bright red. “I mean…have you ever heard anything so absurd?” His amused, lascivious gaze indicated many things other than absurdity. “Okay then,” she said, grabbing the two empty glasses, “I'mgoingtobed. My bed. Alone.” She spun and almost tripped over the dog at her feet. “Goodnight!” she called over her shoulder.

 

She disappeared inside the guest house. This is apparently no longer a circumstance of mere seduction, he thought, realizing that she would not simply fall into his bed. But in truth he, wanting only to hold her again, was the one who had been captivated.

 

&&&

 

First, many thanks to ladybattousai for help with the Japanese words and phrases in this chapter; your assistance was greatly appreciated.

 

I do not own Inuyasha. Also have nothing to do with DUPLO, Stevie Nicks, Rainbow Gathering, Steel Dragon 2000, Sakakibara Onsen, Brahms or any of his Hungarian Dances, The Juilliard School, Harvard, MIT Sloane, The Decemberists or any of their songs, Bombay Sapphire Gin, You Tube, Ken, or Jerry Springer. Thank you for reading—as always I am truly grateful for all comments.