InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Elemental: A Feudal Soap Opera ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

Kagome pushed the hair out of her face, disheveled from hours of trying to stop the fevered thrashing of the hanyou lying on the makeshift pallet before her. He had reverted to human form before his demon body could heal, and the resulting fever was swift and merciless. She wished, not for the first time that night, for some of Kaede's healing skill. She had never been so worried for him before, but she had never seen him so vulnerable, either. She had a terrible fear that he would not live until sunrise, in spite of her meager care.

 

He was still now, momentarily at least, his skin pale and frighteningly dry. She would have welcomed a cleansing sweat on him, as it would have meant the fever was breaking, but there wasn't a spot of moisture on him. She tried to swallow the tightness in her throat away, and dipped her cloth in the chipped basin she had found and filled with water soon after dragging Inuyasha's nearly unconscious form inside. Wringing out the cloth, she began bathing his face, neck, and chest again, carefully avoiding the bandaged wound in his side, trying to relieve the heat that was sapping his strength. He immediately began to thrash on the pallet, crying out. He had been like this since falling unconscious--fighting her, unable to rest. Delirious. She knew what was tormenting him, and it angered and saddened her. He was in turmoil because of that...that...

 

“Kikyo,” he murmured, unknowingly completing her thought. His voice was nearly inaudible, but she heard him as clearly as if he had shouted. “Yes, Kikyo,” Kagome thought. Idiot. Time after time, she nearly gets us killed. Nearly gets you killed. Yet you chase after her still. Why?

 

“It's not right,” she said out loud, exhaustion making her voice rough. “She's going to succeed in killing you after all, and you're just going to let her.” Kagome's vision blurred, and she blinked the unwanted moisture away. It would do her no good to cry, she told herself. It wouldn't change a thing. She resumed bathing him with the cold cloth, concentrating on her actions in a bid to distract herself from her melancholy thoughts, but it didn't work. In the end, the only thing that prevented her from weeping was her rising fear. He's so pale.

 

Inuyasha's skin was devoid of all color, a fact that was nearly startling in contrast to the errant strand of black hair falling across his face. She reached out and smoothed it back from his cheek, unable to contain the sad smile that slipped across her features. He tried so hard to convince everyone that he was cold and detached, but Kagome knew better. Contrary to what the half demon wanted everyone to think, Inuyasha felt things. She chuckled lightly, still petting his face, remembering the way he had torn across the countryside when Shippou had been kidnapped by an evil toad youkai. Oh yes, Inuyasha was anything but cold. He had feelings like the rest of them, and she knew that he was desperately lonely, even though he'd rather die than admit it. It was all she could do, at times, to keep herself from cuddling him as she did Shippou, but she knew he would be angry if she tried. The few times she had hugged him, he had quickly pushed her away.

 

“Inuyasha,” she whispered, leaning over him. She did not really expect a reply, so she was surprised when he opened his eyes. She held herself very still, staring at him.

 

He met her gaze, his eyes shining with fever-glow and the light of the small fire, and she was frozen. He lifted his hand to her hair, twining the dark strands around his fingers, then began to tug, gentle but insistent, until her face was barely an inch from his. She could feel the heat from his fever rolling off him in waves, and tried to pull back, but his hand in her hair would not let her move.

 

“Inuyasha,” she began, but ended with a strangled squeak when he pulled her face down to his. He tightened his hold and covered her mouth with his own, and she was swiftly consumed in a heat that had little to do with his fever. She gasped lightly, and he slid his tongue past her parted lips, sweeping across the tender inner flesh of her mouth before sliding sinuously against her own tongue. She was momentarily shocked, but the surprise was washed away by the waves of sensation she was now feeling. Kagome had been kissed before--once--but that awkward, blushing peck Hojo had given her had been nothing like this. It was as if Inuyasha were trying to know her, just by taste alone. Kagome soon stopped thinking and simply began to kiss him back, helpless, for the time being, to do anything else. She had dreamed of this, after all, so surely the gods would forgive her a small taste of what might have been, if not for...Kikyo.

 

The thought of the dead miko was like a glass of cold water tossed in her face. She jerked away from Inuyasha's grasp, ripping out several strands of her own hair in the process. Inuyasha flexed his hand convulsively in the air before letting it drop to his side. He blinked up at her once in confusion, and then his eyes drifted shut. His lips moved, and Kagome had to lean closer to him to try and catch his words.

 

“Don't...Kikyo...”

 

Of course. I should have known. She laughed shortly, the sound ugly, and laid her head down on her arms and cried, unable to control her hurt any longer. When she had no tears left, she carefully lay down a little ways from the sleeping boy and closed her eyes.

 

She was awakened a short time later by a crash and Inuyasha's colorful cursing. He had knocked over the water basin, but that didn't seem to be the source of his agitation. Kagome shook off the lingering bleariness of sleep and crawled over to him.

 

It was evident that he was having a nightmare. About *her*, no doubt. She watched him toss and turn for a moment. “Ahh, yes, there it is,” she thought, as she caught Kikyo's name in his ramblings once again. “Idiot,” she whispered, but her voice was gentle. She smoothed her palms over each side of his flushed face, trying so sooth him. She feared that his upset would worsen his fever. She wished, not for the first time, that her miko powers were more useful for healing. She hated to stand by and watch him suffer without doing *something*, even if he was currently suffering for another woman. It was bad enough that her own heart was breaking. She could not handle the added weight of his heartbreak as well. At least not now, with her emotions already so raw and close to the surface.

 

“Shh, Inuyasha,” she crooned, leaning down to brush a light kiss across his forehead. “All is well.” He sighed and pressed his face into her hand. She smiled and kissed him again, tenderness filling her for the sick and injured hanyou. He was calm now, and in hopes of keeping him that way, she lay down beside him, closer than before, but careful to keep the thin blanket between them. She let her head rest lightly on his shoulder, then relaxed when he did not stir. She fell asleep with her hand still cupping his cheek. She did not sleep long.

 

Inuyasha woke all through the night, tossing in his sleep and crying out incoherently. It tore at her. She wanted so badly to help him, and would have done anything during that long night, even given him the one thing that could break her, if it would have brought him peace. As his fever spiked, she knew, had it been in her power, that she would have even given him Kikyo...

 

***

 

Inuyasha blinked in surprise at the girl staring down at him. The light hurt his head, and things seemed hazy. He knew something wasn't right, but he couldn't sort it all out right now. He looked at the girl again. “Kikyo?” he asked, shaking his head even as he did so. That couldn't be right. Kikyo was dead, wasn't she? Was he dreaming?

 

The girl quirked a sad-looking smile at him. “I've been called that before.”

 

Inuyasha tried to clear his mind, wishing the light would go away. The girl's words confused him. He focused his eyes on her, sighing in relief as the light, a candle, was extinguished, leaving just the glow from the fire. His lips formed the name again--Kikyo--before his confusion came crashing back. This girl did not look cold, or angry...or dead. “Kikyo,” he whispered, a little louder, wonder filling him. This was the Kikyo he had almost forgotten, with the irrepressible spark of life in her eyes. She was here, she had returned to him, and...she was taking her clothes off. He smiled in response, his heart suddenly feeling lighter than it had in 50 years. Fifty years? Maybe that was the dream. Could it be? Is Kikyo still alive? Was it all a nightmare? He frowned at the thought. It couldn't have been a nightmare. It couldn't be Kikyo. Even in life, her eyes had not held such a sparkle. His head throbbed, memory eluding him. He felt he should know this girl, though. It bothered him that he couldn't lay a name to her. He reached out and caught the girl's wrist. “Who are you,” he rasped. “What is your name?” He felt a wave of dizziness, but struggled to hang on to her. “Who are you,” he repeated, no longer remembering why the question was so important, but compelled to know the answer anyway.

 

Her hesitation lasted only a breath more, but it was excruciating to him. Finally, she seemed to reach a decision. She straightened her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Yours,” she said simply. “I'm yours.”

 

Inuyasha exhaled sharply. It was all he needed to hear. He was on her in an instant, mouth, hands, skin. One word from her--gods, it seemed he had been waiting forever for that one word without even realizing it--one little word, and the blood began pounding through him, driving him to her. He no longer cared what her name was. It only mattered that the truth of her words rang through his soul. She was his.

 

She welcomed him eagerly, sighing his name, and, for the first time in his life, Inuyasha didn't feel alone, as if he had no place he belonged. He knew where he belonged--right here, with this girl. “Mine,” he growled before covering her mouth with his own and plunging into her, skipping any preliminaries in his haste to bond himself to her. He swallowed her cry greedily, some part of his mind recoiling, recognizing it as a sound of pain, but it was drowned out by the fierce satisfaction roiling through him. He lifted his mouth from hers. “Mine,” he said again, pushing tighter against her.

 

“Yes,” she said, panting, and twined her arms around his shoulders. Her fingertips curved into his back, and she pushed her hips up to meet him. “Yours.”

 

Inuyasha kissed her, hard, and then began to move, not knowing how this had come to pass, and not caring much, either. He was coherent enough to know that something about the entire situation was wrong, but he deliberately ignored the voice in his head screaming for him to stop. An entire herd of fire-breathing youkai could not have separated him from the writhing girl beneath him.

 

This girl was *his*. Her words may have proclaimed it, but his soul recognized it and rejoiced in it. Mine. He pumped into her harder, tangling his fingers with hers and pinning her hands to either side of her head.

 

Mine. She arched her back, eyes meeting his. He closed his own in response, suddenly afraid to meet her gaze. The realization angered him.

 

He growled, defiant. “Mine.” Inuyasha moved faster, pinpoints of light beginning to burst behind his eyelids. She reached up to tug sharply on his hair, causing his eyes to snap open.

 

“Mine,” she growled back at him, voice just as fierce as his had been.

 

Gods, yes, he wanted to shout, as a relief he didn't understand filled him, but all that came out was a hoarse groan as her declaration sent him over the edge. The groan became a howl as he spewed his seed insider her, until, finally spent, he collapsed atop her. Nuzzling his face into her neck, he lightly bit her earlobe as exhaustion crept back through him. “Mine,” he whispered once again, and then, voice fading away to nothing, “...Kagome.”

 

***

 

The naked girl froze in shock and fear. “Kagome,” she whispered, feeling shame fill her, “What have you done?” She quickly untangled herself from him and scrambled away, but he was oblivious. He had slipped back into unconsciousness. She hurried to clean herself, and him, belatedly cursing her impulsive actions and praying that he wouldn't remember.