InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Forbidden Love ❯ Chapter IX ( Chapter 9 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: rockthedragon7 
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 02.27.2005 | Updated On: 03.31.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 795 | Visits: 261 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 02.27.2005 | Updated On: 03.31.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 795 | Visits: 261 | Status: Completed
Forbidden Love: Chapter IX
For a week and five days, Izayoi looked out her window every morning, noon, and evening to the old willow tree, wishing to see Sugimi reclined in the branches, waiting for her. For a week and five days, she found herself disappointed that he was not there. Several times, her father noticed that dreamy look on her face as she took a peek out the window, and that saddened expression when she obviously did not see what she was hoping to.
“Are you alright, my girl?” he asked her on that twelfth day, as he saw her turn away from the pane with a troubled frown. “I haven’t seen you so downcast since you were a little girl waiting for that handsome little boy with the russet pony to come prancing by.” He tapped his chin with one crooked finger. “Are you lovesick, my dear?”
Izayoi nearly dropped the pitcher she had been carrying. “No, not in the least,” she blurted rather unconvincingly.
Her father chuckled loudly, and slapped his knee. “Don’t you try to hide that from your father, now. Which lucky young man has caught your pretty eye? Shimato, the blacksmith’s boy? Minamoto…”
Izayoi gave a sigh. “I am not lovesick, Father.”
He frowned. “Oh. That’s too bad.” With a shrug, he shuffled off to his desk, and flopped down in his chair. “Thought that I would have a charming, young son-in-law to so my work for me.”
Izayoi watched as he picked up the brush, and began scrawling on the washi. She turned, emptying the pitcher into the ikarisou vase with a melancholy sigh. Or at least until she looked out the window again. Standing out in the garden, gazing toward the house, with a scarlet flower in his hands, was Sugimi. Izayoi nearly tipped the fragile vase over in shock. Sugimi waved a hand to her. “I must go outside, Father,” she said over her shoulder, receiving a grumble in reply, and she forced herself to walk until she was outside with the shoji carefully slid shut behind her. She leapt from the veranda, racing down the terraces. “I thought you would not come again,” she said as she reached the demon lord.
Sugimi forced a sad smile, and thoughtfully tucked the crimson flower behind her ear. “I did not lie when I said that we would meet again.”
Izayoi touched the lovely blossom, feeling the magic shining from it, eyes searching the frown on the demon lord’s handsome face. “What is wrong?”
Sugimi gave a despondent sigh. “There is gossip across the land about a budding affiliation between yourself and I, I am afraid. Perhaps it is best if we do not see each other for a time.” Izayoi creased her brow in confusion, and the demon lord sought to explain better. “Rumors among demons can be far more dangerous than rumors among humans. Violence is not startling if they feel that such a bond is growing out of hand, or rather, out of their best interests. Izayoi, I do not wish to see you hurt.”
Izayoi felt as though she was on the verge of crying. “But we will still see each other again, perhaps a few weeks from now…”
Sugimi shook his head. “A few weeks is too little. Months may be more reasonable, years even more than months.”
Izayoi’s eyes welled with hot tears. “I fear that I will never see you come the end of those years,” she whispered, throat threatening to close off the words.
The demon lord gently took her small, delicate hand in his calloused palms. “Hear me, Izayoi. You will see me again. I give you my word of honor.”
Izayoi tentatively reached up, wrapping her arms around his back, holding tightly to him, feeling his embrace about her. “I will not fail to remember such a promise,” she said, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I will wait for you, even if it is for a thousand years.”
Sugimi took heart in her words, and, releasing each other from the hug, gave her a tender kiss, barely a touch, on her cheek. With a low bow to her, he started off into the forest, vanishing for what she knew would be far longer than a few years. It was then, with the warmth of his kiss still on her face, that she realized that her feelings for the demon lord delved much deeper than friendship, and it frightened her, to feel such for what many deemed a monster, but she could see no beast within Sugimi’s heart.
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For a week and five days, Izayoi looked out her window every morning, noon, and evening to the old willow tree, wishing to see Sugimi reclined in the branches, waiting for her. For a week and five days, she found herself disappointed that he was not there. Several times, her father noticed that dreamy look on her face as she took a peek out the window, and that saddened expression when she obviously did not see what she was hoping to.
“Are you alright, my girl?” he asked her on that twelfth day, as he saw her turn away from the pane with a troubled frown. “I haven’t seen you so downcast since you were a little girl waiting for that handsome little boy with the russet pony to come prancing by.” He tapped his chin with one crooked finger. “Are you lovesick, my dear?”
Izayoi nearly dropped the pitcher she had been carrying. “No, not in the least,” she blurted rather unconvincingly.
Her father chuckled loudly, and slapped his knee. “Don’t you try to hide that from your father, now. Which lucky young man has caught your pretty eye? Shimato, the blacksmith’s boy? Minamoto…”
Izayoi gave a sigh. “I am not lovesick, Father.”
He frowned. “Oh. That’s too bad.” With a shrug, he shuffled off to his desk, and flopped down in his chair. “Thought that I would have a charming, young son-in-law to so my work for me.”
Izayoi watched as he picked up the brush, and began scrawling on the washi. She turned, emptying the pitcher into the ikarisou vase with a melancholy sigh. Or at least until she looked out the window again. Standing out in the garden, gazing toward the house, with a scarlet flower in his hands, was Sugimi. Izayoi nearly tipped the fragile vase over in shock. Sugimi waved a hand to her. “I must go outside, Father,” she said over her shoulder, receiving a grumble in reply, and she forced herself to walk until she was outside with the shoji carefully slid shut behind her. She leapt from the veranda, racing down the terraces. “I thought you would not come again,” she said as she reached the demon lord.
Sugimi forced a sad smile, and thoughtfully tucked the crimson flower behind her ear. “I did not lie when I said that we would meet again.”
Izayoi touched the lovely blossom, feeling the magic shining from it, eyes searching the frown on the demon lord’s handsome face. “What is wrong?”
Sugimi gave a despondent sigh. “There is gossip across the land about a budding affiliation between yourself and I, I am afraid. Perhaps it is best if we do not see each other for a time.” Izayoi creased her brow in confusion, and the demon lord sought to explain better. “Rumors among demons can be far more dangerous than rumors among humans. Violence is not startling if they feel that such a bond is growing out of hand, or rather, out of their best interests. Izayoi, I do not wish to see you hurt.”
Izayoi felt as though she was on the verge of crying. “But we will still see each other again, perhaps a few weeks from now…”
Sugimi shook his head. “A few weeks is too little. Months may be more reasonable, years even more than months.”
Izayoi’s eyes welled with hot tears. “I fear that I will never see you come the end of those years,” she whispered, throat threatening to close off the words.
The demon lord gently took her small, delicate hand in his calloused palms. “Hear me, Izayoi. You will see me again. I give you my word of honor.”
Izayoi tentatively reached up, wrapping her arms around his back, holding tightly to him, feeling his embrace about her. “I will not fail to remember such a promise,” she said, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I will wait for you, even if it is for a thousand years.”
Sugimi took heart in her words, and, releasing each other from the hug, gave her a tender kiss, barely a touch, on her cheek. With a low bow to her, he started off into the forest, vanishing for what she knew would be far longer than a few years. It was then, with the warmth of his kiss still on her face, that she realized that her feelings for the demon lord delved much deeper than friendship, and it frightened her, to feel such for what many deemed a monster, but she could see no beast within Sugimi’s heart.
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