InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Dystopian Story of Lovers ❯ Persuasion ( Chapter 7 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
Persuasion
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Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha
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The night was clear, and the air was breezy, fresh, and clean as it washed away the last drop of the salty escape. The dampness on her cheeks was soon dried, and the beauty behind the misery revealed back its sparkle.
“Why?” he asked.
The endless whys and the desperation instigating them; if he had known any better then he would know that it wasn't the time to ask but to accept.
Kagome looked at him strangely, sniffling, erasing the last bit of her heartache.
“Why did you let him touch you after what he had done to you?” Sesshoumaru asked himself if this question sounded sane enough for her as it did for him.
It didn't.
“Touch me?” Kagome asked back, puzzled.
“He was holding your hand; how could you even stand to be touched by him?” he spoke the words with such intense revulsion that made his voice faltered at the end of the sentence.
Kagome began to leave the bench where they were sitting on. His hand immediately grasped her arm to stop her.
“Like you touching me now?” she said coldly. “Why should I find his touch repulsive and yours isn't? He and I,” she spoke with determination, “Were intimate, and you, I barely know you. In fact, I'm very sure that right at this moment you have no right to tell me what I should or shouldn't feel!” Suddenly all her frustration came to surface.
“I mean, `quit your job and the country'; what the hell is that supposed to mean!?” she half-yelled at him. “You say the most outrageous things to me and do the opposite. Maybe it's you who should quit your job and the country and take the time out to figure out what you want!”
“One moment you persuade me to stand on friendly terms with you, and the next moment you intimidate me. I mean I am conscious about you being my supervisor and all, but, really, do you ever stop to think if there's something mentally wrong with the way you behave?” It was of course suicidal to even consider uttering these words to him, but she was, as most were in this kind of situation, too far ahead, ignoring her sense of self-preservation.
“Every word that comes out of your mouth is an order. I mean, God! Are we in a freaking army or something!? Is this how you treat every girl you kissed? And I can't even trust you answering me without being spiteful or sarcastic because you do this all the time.” She paused for breath.
“Are you finished now?” Sesshoumaru asked her after a brief moment of silence.
“Yes,” Kagome shook her head, “I mean, no.”
Sesshoumaru waited for a moment. “Go ahead then.”
She tried to speak again but found that her brain couldn't conjure up anything to let out as her emotion became wholly depleted.
“I'm sorry.” The word was so coolly spoken that Kagome thought she had heard wrong.
“I don't usually do this,” he continued.
“Apologizing?” Kagome supplied.
A momentary glare indicated that it wasn't what he had meant. “No,” he said a bit too sharply, “Courting; I'm not very well-versed with courting.”
Kagome sputtered, “You were courting!? Courting me!?”
“Yes.” Seeing her incredulous look, Sesshoumaru continued, “What do you think I was doing?”
“I don't know,” her face was red as the volume of her voice went lower, “A fling? You know; whenever the mood strikes and such …”
He looked at her long. She grew nervous as she imagined what his reaction would be as she stole up a glance at him. There was laughter in his eyes, tiny specks of sparkle that she found very, very appealing.
“We have to do something about your mood swing, Higurashi,” he said in an amused tone.
“Not before we do something about your sudden talkativeness, Sir,” she blurted out the retort that suddenly sounded not so smart anymore, fearing that she had pushed too far.
But there it was, the tiniest crack of smile appeared on the corner of his lips, and Kagome didn't know why she felt a bit possessive of that half smile, knowing she had induced it.
Suddenly it hit her; she had been crying for hours! Tears, as in dried streaks and runny mascara and puffy eyes and red nose; she probably looked like a tragic Rudolph from some horror show! Ever so slowly she turned away from him, her hand groping for her make-up pouch and Kleenex in the pochette.
“Is there something wrong?” Sesshoumaru asked, perplexed.
“Nothing's wrong,” Kagome whispered frantically as she got up from the bench, still facing him away.
Sesshoumaru held her arm again. “Where are you going?”
“Ladies room,” she answered curtly as she tugged her arm free.
“Something is wrong,” Sesshoumaru stated vehemently, “Why won't you look at me, Higurashi? Did I say something that offended you?” He stood up beside her, still holding her arm firmly.
“No, you didn't. God! Can't you please let my arm go so I can go to the ladies room?” She tugged again unsuccessfully, working herself up as he was getting closer to inspect her face.
“Not until you tell me right now why you can't bear to look at me,” Sesshoumaru demanded stubbornly. A sliver of fear entered his heart at her desperate attempt of flight.
“Alright! I'm going to the ladies room to wash my face, so that we both can have a good memory of this night when I don't look like a fright, okay?” She succeeded pulling her arm free and half-fled from the small garden.
She entered the vacated room with light steps, crossing to the other side of the vast space to the massive door at the end of the room. Entering the hallway of the hotel, she found the sign indicating the searched room.
Once inside, she was for a moment surprised at the sight reflecting back from the mirror before her. Letting out a small shriek, she worked quickly to clean her face. After cleaning every make-up traces from her skin, she noticed her slightly disheveled updo and decided to wear her hair down. Pulling out the pins and the thin band, she finger-combed the soft wavy hair down to the waist. Satisfied with her hair, she applied a pink tulip lipstick thinly to her flushed lips, admiring the combination of the color. She touched her lips and applied the colored paste printed on her finger to her cheeks, smearing it just perfect.
She gazed at the reflection in the mirror. So it was time then, and never before had she felt so scared like she did now. Maybe she could just slip out of the building without him noticing. He was in the garden adjacent to the main conference room anyway, and she could call him then on her way home, telling him that something urgent had come up. The idea sounded passable. She was twenty-one for goodness sake; she had every right to behave cowardly and evade any chances in life that she felt she couldn't yet take.
She nodded at her reflection in the mirror. A sense of disappointment cracked her resolve a little. She really, really liked that smile and those eyes. But she was just not ready, and he was just too complex for her.
She exited the ladies room with small stealthy steps, which would actually work better if she was wearing flats, her gaze scanning around the area hastily.
“Higurashi,” the familiar heavy voice that lilted sharply in the last part called out from behind.
Shoot! “Sir?” Kagome answered readily almost too swift to be entirely guiltless.
She turned slowly to face him, flushed to the root of her hair.
“Are you ready?”
She wanted to say no, but as she took in his expectant and slightly worried eyes, the word was uttered before she could even think of stopping it, “Yes.”
~*~
She kept a steady look at the round glass containing a burning candle in front of her. The dim light of the candle illuminated her face like a painting from the renaissance; she was the principal figure in the whole composition, the light in the middle of the contrasting darkness.
He would be contented with just watching her for the rest of the evening and the many next afterwards. If she spoke now, would she speak the words he had heard times and again a long time ago?
He was tired, unbearably tired of being alone for so long, not really waiting and barely continuing. He had not expected this moment of reencounter, and a part of him that had been left alone for so long spurned the thought of togetherness with someone who had forgotten him entirely. But he had to gain her back if only just to appease the sense of possessiveness in him to keep things that belonged to him.
But he was mostly afraid. For some time he had forgotten her smile, the way she had looked on the night he had proposed to her, the sound of her laughter, the feel of her fingers against his face, in his hair; every million and one little things that he felt would terminate his existence if he should ever forget about them.
Yet his mind was asking him over and over again. So this was what he needed, a substitute? If only the girl sitting in front of him wasn't so different then it would be easier to cease this nagging guilt out of his system. If only she behaved like she had used to behave, spoke like she had used to speak, remembered completely that she had loved him, or at least stopped fidgeting in her seat, infecting him with her restlessness.
“Yes?” he asked a bit too harshly, annoyed with the imperfection in the supposed timeless painting to his observation.
“What do you mean by courting me?” she asked timidly.
“It is as —”
“I'm not ready,” she interrupted him. She looked up finally and smiled apologetically. “The thing is I don't even know what I'm not ready for, but after what happened tonight I just want to step back and regain some confidence that I didn't realize I had lost.”
“One relationship that overtakes another immediately, I'm not sure I want to be in it. I don't want to rebound. If there should be a second love then I want it to be a strong one that has all the capabilities to sweep me off my feet.” Her hands twisted nervously in her lap, as she explained to him bravely.
“To tell you the truth, I want it to be nothing different than my first, yet in a way greater because I would want to fight to make it last. But now I just can't seem to believe that such love exists, not when I lost it.” Sheen of moisture covered her eyes, glimmering like precious stones cut to perfection.
He was quiet all the while, feeling entranced by her sweet admission and somewhat helpless. How could he object, perceiving that adorable slight flush on the top of her nose?
“So you do understand, don't you?”
He didn't know if he actually did. Was the context of the entire disclosure a rejection? Was she rejecting him?
“You'll receive my resignation's letter by tomorrow. This is the only thing that I can do about my job, but as for leaving the country, I'm afraid I can only promise you that I'll be far, in another city. I don't know yet where, but I'll find something. And you can be sure that you'll never see me again.” With that she got up from her chair, gave him a smile that felt inexplicably final, and disappeared from the light in the middle of the dark.
So this was it?
Sesshoumaru could only sit there, silently contemplating. He should let her go. It was the right thing to do. These emotions … these emotions were too delicate to have something to be built upon it. Even though there was this great possessive hunger inside of him, he felt deep sympathy for her absolute ignorance of her situation.
He purged the small sense of hope that had grown inside of him from the moment he laid eyes on her. As he stood up, suddenly the thought of going home oppressed him. His steps became heavy, and the emptiness spread inside his heart like a cold vice grip.
The next second he was running, and in a few seconds he was in front of her.
“Connection,” he said to her in a state of agitation.
“Excuse me?” Kagome stuttered in disbelief.
God! How could she look cold and beautiful in this state of human fragility?
“Connection,” he repeated a bit too harshly, “Can't you feel it between us?”
All that Kagome could think of was that this man in front of her was actually a romantic.
“If you think about it; if you search it deep inside of you then I'm sure you're going to find it.” He desperately hoped that she was going to find it.
“But what —?” The sheer romantic notion of his statement blocked off all coherent response coming from her, “Why?”
Because you had been my wife in your past life and now I wanted you back didn't actually seem very persuasive vocally, so he had to convince her instead that he was a believer. The first thing he did instinctively was to pull her in his embrace, because he had to do something about her temperature drop. His hands were smoothing down the Goosebumps over the skin of her bare shoulders.
Yet when he touched her, words that were meant to persuade her never came. He whispered in desperation instead, “Please don't leave me again …”
It was heartbreaking for her to hear these words; she didn't understand them, but she understood sorrow and loneliness.
“I won't,” she whispered back, “I've never left you.” The last words were said to convince him. “I'm always here.”
Sesshoumaru felt a deep sadness inside his heart. Could that be true? That she actually had been with him all the time? All those nights of solitude when he had cried her name into the cold air, demanding for her to be return to him, had she been there and ignored his call?
His hold tightened over her. He couldn't let her leave; never in his life would he ever allow it to happen.
~*~
It was already two in the morning when Kagome was finally home, accompanied by Sesshoumaru. At the door of her apartment she turned around to give him a parting smile. Before he was about to leave, however, her hand unconsciously stopped him.
He looked at her hand holding his wrist quizzically and then at her. Kagome's eyes widened when she realized that she had stopped him from going.
“Would you like to come in?” she asked rapidly as she let his hand go.
Sesshoumaru's eyes were searching hers in question. “Do you think I should?”
Kagome nodded. “We haven't really talked.”
“Oh.” He was slightly disappointed at the invitation for a conversation. “Alright.”
She opened the door and entered the apartment, flipping the light switch on, and then she turned around and stepped aside to allow him inside. While she was closing the door, Sesshoumaru kept his eyes on her. His presence behind her felt so overruling that she took her time locking the door of the apartment before she turned and faced him.
Suddenly she felt his warmth enveloping her from behind. He brushed her hair aside and placed a soft kiss on the skin of her back. Kagome's hand on the doorknob tightened as he began to trail small kisses to the nape of her neck, his arm circling her waist. She shivered under the touch of his light kisses and the contrasting possessiveness of his arm around her.
She ducked reluctantly from his ministration to the nape of her neck and turned around to face him. “Would you like some coffee?” she asked breathlessly.
Sesshoumaru nodded and bent down as he moved his face closer to hers. The light was behind him, and she felt as if the darkness, manifesting itself as a masculine figure, surrounding her, was no longer foreboding as it had once felt.
The darkness captured her lips, urging them to open, to allow inside its ardent assault. Helpless not to, she relented; her arms stole up his neck to pull him yet closer. She wanted this, a kiss as the beginning of things, a kiss that washed away obstacles of doubt.
She pulled away when the need to breath became too painful to ignore. She rested her head against his chest. When she had recovered from the effect of the kiss, she looked up and smiled.
She took his hand and led him out of the corridor, turning on the lights in each room they passed.
He followed her obediently, entranced by the movement of her body as she walked in front of him, by the soft sway of her hip.
They stopped in a room, and as she led him to a chair, it dawned on him that this was not the room he had in mind.
She bustled around the kitchen to find coffee, cups, and spoons.
“Do you prefer light roasts or medium-dark roasts?” She held up two containers of the said items, looking at him in question.
Sesshoumaru had wondered a moment ago if they were going to stay in this room long. The question answered his apparently. “The second one,” he said in reply, the disappointment barely kept from his tone.
But Kagome failed to notice it as she busied herself with putting the right amount of the coffee and water in the coffee maker.
She came to the table with a jar of sugared figs and two glasses of water. “A friend of mine had this tradition that whenever there's a guest in her house, the first thing she'd do was to serve the guest with this conserved fruit and water. You should try it. The sugar is good to stimulate body warmth.”
“But I'm not cold,” Sesshoumaru politely refused.
“It's a guest thing,” she explained, a bit disgruntled by his rejection, “It's impolite for a guest to refuse the given hospitality.”
Still no reaction.
“Would you just please try it?” Kagome added exasperatedly.
“Very well,” he answered curtly as he accepted the small bowl of fruit. He chewed on the teeth-rotting sweets subtly and downed it immediately with the served water.
“How is it?” she asked in anticipation.
“It's sweet,” Sesshoumaru dryly replied.
“Oh,” Kagome responded dejectedly. “Coffee is ready,” she remarked as she stood up and went to tend the coffee.
She came back to the table with the coffee and served him a cup of the hot brew.
“How do we do this?” she suddenly asked, taking a sip of the coffee from the dainty cup.
Sesshoumaru raised his brow in question.
“How do we start a relationship?”
“How did you start yours?” he asked back.
Kagome frowned. “Do you really want to know?”
“I need to know about your past relationship, anything about you before we start anything,” Sesshoumaru quietly stated.
“I don't see why that has anything to do with us,” she balked. “I can't tell you, and honestly I don't want to.”
“You will, then, in time.”
“No,” she said stubbornly.
Both drunk their coffee silently, determined not to yield.
“Fine,” she finally said, “But not now, later I will.”
Sesshoumaru nodded. It was good enough of a promise for him.
“So, how do we do this? Do we go on dates?” she asked again.
“Do you wish it?”
“Yes. It would be preferable.”
He sighed. “As you wish.”
“What exactly do you have in mind?” Kagome asked him, a bit curious and discouraged by his lack of enthusiasm.
“You move in with me. We announce our engagement, prepare for the mating ceremony.”
She stared ahead in shock. “Did we get engage?”
“You said you'd stay with me always,” he reminded her.
“Yes, but it doesn't mean that —”
“So you didn't mean it, what you said?” he interrupted her.
“No, I meant it, but —”
“So what seems to be the problem?”
“I thought we were still in the stage of getting to know each other!” she sputtered in disbelief.
“That's why I wanted to know about you and your relationship,” he coolly intercepted.
Kagome could only sit there with an astonished look written on her face. Seconds passed, and she turned her attention to him, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.
“This is what you do, isn't it? You twist everything around so that everything will turn out as you've planned. You even know my answers and questions before I myself knew,” she said accusingly.
Sesshoumaru looked amused. “I've read Sun Tzu,” he simply confirmed.
“This is not a war!” she protested incredulously.
“You're patronizing me.” A note of realization laced her unbelieving tone. “If we're going to start a relationship then you have to stop doing that. A relationship is based on trust and acceptance. Is it too much to ask for you to meet me halfway?”
“I did. You said you wanted to date, and I agreed. You asked me what I wanted, and I told you what I had in mind. I don't have to apologize for being different.”
“Different? What is that supposed to mean?”
“Kouga is maybe a wimpy wolf that follows your every command, but I'm not.” There he said it.
“Don't drag Kouga into this!” she warned.
“I will if you would.” His quiet tone suggested as much warning as hers held.
“I never bring Kouga into our conversation,” she defended herself.
“Not in word, but you insinuated it in every way.”
“I did not.”
“You said that a relationship is based on trust and acceptance. Do you know this for a fact or are you just taking something from your experience?”
“Well —,” Kagome wasn't sure what to answer him, suspecting that this was one of his trick questions.
“So the latter then.”
“Hey, wait a minute —”
“Taking something from your experience, in other words your past relationship, and incorporating it into your new one is in a way an art of comparison. And I truly despised being compared.” (Look who's talking …)
Kagome pondered about this for a minute. “I guess you're right,” she admitted dejectedly as she peered into her cup.
Seeing her crushed, he found that he didn't like it. Taking one of her hands into his own, he brought it up and kissed it. “It's not going to be so bad, being with me. I know I'm not romantic or affectionate, but I will do everything in my power to make you happy.”
She looked at him with a new sense of trust and smiled at him with a smile that could melt down an iceberg. “Thank you,” she said simply.
And at that moment she vouched for him that he would never hurt her. Because she somehow knew that he would always hold his promise. This she should remember because all tragedy began mostly with a promise.
~*~
Inuyasha tried calling her cell phone again and again. He never felt this sense of desperation before. It was as if time was slipping through his hold and everything was in motion except him. He was tempted to leave a message in her mailbox, but every time the words he wanted to say sounded so cryptic that he canceled it immediately.
Nothing made sense anymore. He shouldn't be the one who was falling into the entrapment of the game he designed. He knew that the very moment he wished for visibility, acknowledgement, was when the karma began to strike.
He needed to say, had to explain in words, he never spoke, that he wanted to matter … to her, only to her. Yet he was afraid to start things wrong and shatter everything with his clumsy statements.
“Kagome, it's me, Inuyasha,” he spoke with a vulnerability that made his voice crack, “I've done something wrong, and I want you to listen to me, and eventually I hope that you'll forgive me.” He let out a small nervous laugh. “You see I should've never let you go to him. I know this might sound like nonsense to you, but what I'm saying is —,” he sighed heavily, “I don't want you to get hurt.”
His voice message was recorded and sent.
~*~
Sesshoumaru was sitting alone in the living room of her apartment, waiting for Kagome as she changed her clothes. He heard a soft beep coming out of her purse. He dug inside the small compartment and fished out a cell phone.
On the screen there were fifteen miscalls from Inuyasha and a voice message. Connecting to the voice message, he listened to it.
He erased the miscalls and the voice message from her phone and slipped the phone back in her purse.
“Would you like another cup of coffee?” Kagome asked behind him as she was coming out of the bedroom.
Sesshoumaru smiled. “I would love to.”
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*end of chapter*
AN: please do review, Thank you.