InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ My Hatred, My Obsession ❯ How I Comfort You ( Chapter 14 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: raven91 
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Suspense / Romance | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 11.02.2005 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.2K | Visits: 520 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Suspense / Romance | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 11.02.2005 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.2K | Visits: 520 | Status: Completed
My Hatred, My Obsession
Chapter 14 - How I Comfort You
It was late at night and well into the morning when Sango awoke from a fitful sleep. She sat up, kicking aside the covers, and swiped a tired hand against her forehead. Looking sideways at a peacefully slumbering Miroku - a safe distance away on the other side of the room - she stood and gently stepped out of the hut, carefully placing the bamboo shutters back into place. The chill of the night cut through the wool robe she wore, and she shivered, tucking it more tightly around her. Her eyes caught the shimmering light of the stars and she felt her heart's racing beat slow down.
Kagome-chan…where are you?
It was cruel, to have found her only to lose her again. Her feet took her to a secluded boulder, where she collapsed with relief. Something warm scurried into her lap and she automatically stroked its soft fur. The creature purred, its comforting heat serving to calm its mistress. A strong wind eased through the thick foliage, making the trees groan and bend. The creature licked her palm, as if feeling her disquieted mood.
“Kirara…thank you.” The woods had a peculiar feel tonight, as if eyes watched from the darkness. She wanted to blame it on the nightmares that had plagued her, but the hunch was too strong to deny. Ever since Kagome's passing, she had felt this way. Something was watching them - watching and waiting. But waiting for what? What did they want?
“Sango…are you feeling alright?” She jumped, causing the peacefully resting cat on her lap to lose its balance and fall to the floor in a squealing heap. It hissed threateningly at the intruder but calmed when it made connection between voice and scent.
“Houshi-sama! You scared me!” She regretted her words as soon as they were out of her mouth. Miroku bent down next to her, resting on his haunches, and took her hand in his. She felt her face heating up as it always did at his slightest touch. He looked up into her eyes and gave her an innocent-looking, comforting smile. She wasn't fooled.
“Ah, my dear Sango! You have nothing to fear while I am around. I will not let anyone lay a hand on you.” As ridiculous, as fake, and as lecherous as it sounded, Sango couldn't help but feel like her world had brightened. How did he manage to do that every time? She flinched when she felt his hand caressing her butt - yet even as she punched him and scolded him for being a pervert, her heart sang in warmth. What would she be doing now if it wasn't for Miroku?
He had his own share of a cruel and unforgiving fate, yet he never showed his despair or fear, as most men would. Through everything - through her loss of Kohaku for the hundredth time, through her pain, through her happiness - he had always been there, sharing it all with her. Even now, she was sure that he had come here to be with her through what he sensed was a tough time. After their argument - something that seemed more of a routine now than anything - they sat back against the boulder and watched the night sky, now fading from sleeping blue to energetic yellow. They were silent, for words only served to ruin the perfect understanding between them. For a long time, this was they way they rested - still as snow; but Sango had things on her mind that could not be solved without sound.
“Houshi-sama, do you think--?”
“She is alright. Kagome-sama has always been strong, and she won't let anything change that.” A beat. “If Sesshoumaru wanted to kill her, he would have done it right away.” Miroku's theory and reassurances felt logical, but she couldn't help feeling as if her friend - no…sister - was in grave danger. She wasn't surprised that he was thinking about the same thing she was. Inuyasha had left yesterday morning and still had not returned. It was the same as the first time she had disappeared; they had more cause to worry now, however - despite knowing her relative location.
“What if he took her for some other reason?”
“If he needs her, then he won't let her come to harm.” She let another moment of quiet pass before voicing her most feared thoughts.
“He needs her alive, but that doesn't mean he won't hurt her.” Miroku didn't know what to say to that, and let the worry sink into him. Neither said anything after that, for both knew that such a thing was more possible than they could imagine.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
The board was set, the pieces all in play. Things were going more smoothly than he thought they would. Soon, he could complete his goal and he would be rewarded beyond imagining. Everything was - strangely - too simple. Taminara was a pawn that was easily maneuvered, and he believed that the Eastern Lord's contempt could be used to his advantage.
Soon…very soon…
He watched through a large window as the creatures - beasts and humans - below the castle ran about their daily lives and had to marvel at the difference between himself and the ignorant masses. As if in anger, he pushed away from the glass and took a few slow steps towards his writing desk. Pulling out the beautifully carved wooden chair, he sat down and dabbed a quill in a tiny, delicately shaped, bottle of black ink, scribbling a quick note across a piece of parchment.
I will be at our usual meeting place tonight.
Do not be late.
It was simple - short but in no way sweet. The words, though plain, had a foreboding ring to them. With a swift movement he sealed the note in an envelope and rang the bell for a servant. A short, stubby little man hastily opened the door, throwing himself to the ground.
“How may this lowly servant assist --?”
“Silence. Take this to the Lower Sector. Another man will meet you there. He will ask you if you have a package for his father. Give this to him only after you have heard those words. Is that clear?” The man mumbled something, the sounds of his voice muffled in the rug.
“You know the penalty for disobedience.” The servant was gone in less than the time span of a breath, and he sank back down in his chair, letting his arms sag on the armrests.
You better not be late.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
The room was shadowed - an attribute he hadn't thought it possessed before she came here. The giant dragon fireplace bared its teeth angrily now, the curtains blowing eerily in the wind. It was only thanks to his superior vision during the night that he saw her shivering in the darkest corner of the room, clad in a startlingly white yukata. He didn't make his way to her, however. It felt - at the moment - as if he didn't want to be close to her. The nausea that arose in him at seeing her there - huddled and weak in that corner - was unexplainable.
“Go away.”
He should have felt anger; should have yearned to punish her; but things were settling into a bothersome routine. He had questions, she had answers; he needed obedience, she gave him defiance; he hurt her, and she would make him feel things he shouldn't possess. Was this what regret really felt like? In all his life, he had never felt such a thing. When his mother died, he had felt nothing; same with his father. No - that was wrong -
He had felt shame when his father had died to save a pathetic human woman.
Even after he had spent his entire life building up his army, strengthening the Western Lands, and attaining a level of power superior to every creature in Japan, he had thrown it all away so easily. He looked at the woman on the floor and felt - for a moment - the same shame he felt when his father had disgraced the Taisho Family name. His father had tossed away his glory, his power, and his influence for one woman.
Did he felt regret towards her as well?
If there was one thing that he wanted least, it was to follow in his father's footsteps. His sire's failure was something real: something tangible and very threatening. He had devoted his entire life to become the exact opposite of his father where emotions were concerned. But…
…something whispered - nagged; a voice that he had sworn to cast away for the rest of his life. It had no name- no title through which it could gain any sort of power over him. But in his mind, he knew what it really was.
“I don't even know what you want from me. Just let me go.”
Her frightened voice, however, spurred him into an action he thought would surely cause the foreign feeling of regret. He heard that voice again, and for the first time in hundreds of years, he remembered its name. It was a discovery of a sort - a revelation that made the entire world morph into a different reality. He recognized the nagging as the pleading of his conscience - an entity that had been thrown into the depths of shadow and there starved until he thought it dead. But it had survived - despite all the actions he took towards preventing that sort of outcome.
“You should be grateful, human. It appears that there might be a use for you after all.”
Once again, his conscience pulled on his sleeve. Why be cruel to her? Why treat her this way? He knew the answer to that as if it was an instinct.
She will get too close.
Like the other little human child you host within your home?
This woman is different.
How?
This was ridiculous. Already, his point was shining in the brilliant spotlight of logic. Already, he was comparing her to Rin - whose presence could not be explained at all. She was simply…there…something that he would not allow to come to harm. Many called her his charge, and for a long time, he had accepted that title. It gave him a chance to somehow make an order out of chaos, but now…
…with this woman…
…things were really different…
What I'm looking for is a miko, Sesshoumaru.
He took a step towards her.
Two.
Three.
Four steps.
By the sixth he stood above her, feeling a great animosity yet a painful guilt grating at his skin. Yes…the regret he felt now was all too real. He wanted to get closer to her, to somehow return that untamed spirit back into those eyes now full of fear, but his body refused to move - his pride refused to bend.
You may prove a useful hireling in my service.
Hireling? How dare you?
No fee, of course will be provided, since you should consider it an honor to be useful to this Sesshoumaru.
I'm not just some object you can use at your whim!
Do not flatter yourself, woman. You have not proven your worth - not as a priestess, and especially not as a source of auxiliary power.
He had been wrong, hadn't he? She was more powerful than he had thought her to be: more clever, more agile, more spirited.
No…This Sesshoumaru regrets nothing, and makes no mistake about anything.
But he was wrong.
His pride screamed in protest, his legs bent, and he - almost wearily - slid to his knees in front of her. The scent of blood and herbal salves stung his nostrils, his eyes roaming over what he could see were bloodied bandages on her hands. Her face was pale when she caught his gaze, her eyes dull - the fear now replaced with hopelessness. His hand went forward - the owner knowing full well that his actions damned him into a closer relationship with sympathy, yet he couldn't stop; couldn't bring himself to see her light so thoroughly put out.
His fingers made contact with her cheek, his entire skin receiving a shock he'd never felt before. She winced at his touch, and he felt angry.
No…do not look away…
It would stay a silent plea until eternity - he thought - for voicing such a thing would be a sin unto itself. But she seemed to hear him - to understand his desperation somehow - for she opened her eyes again to look at him with trepidation. He could tell that she was remembering that moment of weakness - of frailty - the night he'd left her to die out in the wilderness. She covered his hand with hers, confusion radiating from her like a flame.
“Sesshoumaru?”
She really should not have said his name. It had a terrifying effect on him when she did. Reality was shifting again - his priorities with it. In seconds, he was pulling her into his arms, her soft yet unyielding body pressed so close that her body heat felt like it went through him. He felt her every movement, heard her every heart beat, and it felt terrible. Terrible and horrible and something that should never have come to pass.
Why is this happening? Why now? I don't need this.
But he did need it. Even now, as she took a little breath and spoke his name so softly, he needed her like nothing else. It was the same thing he had felt when he had first found her half-drowned on the riverbank. The same overwhelming, ragged desperation filled him now as it had then.
“Please…let me go…”
Her voice was pained, but he refused to accede to her demands. His claws dug into her hair, the softness of the raven tresses sending unfamiliar sensations down his spine. He was no stranger to such things as lust and carnal pleasure - yet now, with her, it felt different. His other hand found its way to her spine and he ran his claws down the thin, white cloth there. He felt her shivering, her muscles relaxing. It was getting more difficult to breathe.
“Sesshoumaru…let--”
He felt her entire body nearly convulse when he breathed a soft “no” into her ear. Her own nails dug into the silk on his chest, where both of her arms were neatly folded. Her own breathing was quick and shallow, little puffs of air tickling his neck. Her heart rate was reaching a rather alarming rate, and he wondered briefly if humans could handle such a thing. There was a slight tugging and he realized that she was pushing against his chest.
“This is just another way to use me…I won't let you do what you want with me…” Her cheeks were flushed, her huge eyes once again challenging. He watched her lips moving sensuously.
“I will do as I please.” And once again, he found himself pushing her to the floor and locking his lips with hers. He couldn't stop himself; not this time, not any other time. But perhaps she could, for when he felt her jerk as if in pain, the haze in his eyes cleared instantly. She was beginning to respond to him, though, parting her lips to give entrance to his tongue. The heat was building, his head almost reeling at the softness of her mouth. He felt her chest rising and falling against his and he thought that there was nothing more sensual in the world in that space of time. When she flinched again, however, he broke away from her as if by instinct. He already knew what was the matter.
His nails dug into the material of her yukata and violently moved it aside - nearly tearing the material in the process. She voiced her surprise and began to say something, but he silenced her. The bandages were old - he could see that much. He remembered a servant trying to tell him something this morning about the woman, but he had been too preoccupied with Kiba and Taminara to care.
As he saw the quickly loosening and bloodied cloth, everything came together all too quickly. There was a stab of discomfort in his solar plexus, and he recognized it as the same terror he'd felt for her when she had collapsed after the creature's attack on her mind; an even greater outrage followed.
“Why?” Her face was the picture of insubordination itself, and that served - as it always did - to fuel his quickly growing impatience.
“I don't need your charity, Sesshoumaru.” He didn't know what to say to that, so he remained silent, waiting for her to explain. “Even now…you're just using me, like you did before you abandoned me in the forest. And don't tell me that you don't care, because I already know!” Tears were surfacing, taunting him, and gliding down the smooth surface of her face. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but the tears must have blocked her ability of speech, for she just turned her face away from his.
“You little fool. You would do such a thing out of pride?”
He willed her to look at him again…
…and she did.
“Would you not?”
And with reluctant admittance, he knew that he would.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Wonderful reviews last chapter! Thank you so much! Your feedback really did spur me to write this chapter so quickly. It's kind of strange, but I think you guys get me excited more than I do about my stories. Thank you for voting!
Please stay in touch and drop a word or two!
--Raven91
Chapter 14 - How I Comfort You
It was late at night and well into the morning when Sango awoke from a fitful sleep. She sat up, kicking aside the covers, and swiped a tired hand against her forehead. Looking sideways at a peacefully slumbering Miroku - a safe distance away on the other side of the room - she stood and gently stepped out of the hut, carefully placing the bamboo shutters back into place. The chill of the night cut through the wool robe she wore, and she shivered, tucking it more tightly around her. Her eyes caught the shimmering light of the stars and she felt her heart's racing beat slow down.
Kagome-chan…where are you?
It was cruel, to have found her only to lose her again. Her feet took her to a secluded boulder, where she collapsed with relief. Something warm scurried into her lap and she automatically stroked its soft fur. The creature purred, its comforting heat serving to calm its mistress. A strong wind eased through the thick foliage, making the trees groan and bend. The creature licked her palm, as if feeling her disquieted mood.
“Kirara…thank you.” The woods had a peculiar feel tonight, as if eyes watched from the darkness. She wanted to blame it on the nightmares that had plagued her, but the hunch was too strong to deny. Ever since Kagome's passing, she had felt this way. Something was watching them - watching and waiting. But waiting for what? What did they want?
“Sango…are you feeling alright?” She jumped, causing the peacefully resting cat on her lap to lose its balance and fall to the floor in a squealing heap. It hissed threateningly at the intruder but calmed when it made connection between voice and scent.
“Houshi-sama! You scared me!” She regretted her words as soon as they were out of her mouth. Miroku bent down next to her, resting on his haunches, and took her hand in his. She felt her face heating up as it always did at his slightest touch. He looked up into her eyes and gave her an innocent-looking, comforting smile. She wasn't fooled.
“Ah, my dear Sango! You have nothing to fear while I am around. I will not let anyone lay a hand on you.” As ridiculous, as fake, and as lecherous as it sounded, Sango couldn't help but feel like her world had brightened. How did he manage to do that every time? She flinched when she felt his hand caressing her butt - yet even as she punched him and scolded him for being a pervert, her heart sang in warmth. What would she be doing now if it wasn't for Miroku?
He had his own share of a cruel and unforgiving fate, yet he never showed his despair or fear, as most men would. Through everything - through her loss of Kohaku for the hundredth time, through her pain, through her happiness - he had always been there, sharing it all with her. Even now, she was sure that he had come here to be with her through what he sensed was a tough time. After their argument - something that seemed more of a routine now than anything - they sat back against the boulder and watched the night sky, now fading from sleeping blue to energetic yellow. They were silent, for words only served to ruin the perfect understanding between them. For a long time, this was they way they rested - still as snow; but Sango had things on her mind that could not be solved without sound.
“Houshi-sama, do you think--?”
“She is alright. Kagome-sama has always been strong, and she won't let anything change that.” A beat. “If Sesshoumaru wanted to kill her, he would have done it right away.” Miroku's theory and reassurances felt logical, but she couldn't help feeling as if her friend - no…sister - was in grave danger. She wasn't surprised that he was thinking about the same thing she was. Inuyasha had left yesterday morning and still had not returned. It was the same as the first time she had disappeared; they had more cause to worry now, however - despite knowing her relative location.
“What if he took her for some other reason?”
“If he needs her, then he won't let her come to harm.” She let another moment of quiet pass before voicing her most feared thoughts.
“He needs her alive, but that doesn't mean he won't hurt her.” Miroku didn't know what to say to that, and let the worry sink into him. Neither said anything after that, for both knew that such a thing was more possible than they could imagine.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
The board was set, the pieces all in play. Things were going more smoothly than he thought they would. Soon, he could complete his goal and he would be rewarded beyond imagining. Everything was - strangely - too simple. Taminara was a pawn that was easily maneuvered, and he believed that the Eastern Lord's contempt could be used to his advantage.
Soon…very soon…
He watched through a large window as the creatures - beasts and humans - below the castle ran about their daily lives and had to marvel at the difference between himself and the ignorant masses. As if in anger, he pushed away from the glass and took a few slow steps towards his writing desk. Pulling out the beautifully carved wooden chair, he sat down and dabbed a quill in a tiny, delicately shaped, bottle of black ink, scribbling a quick note across a piece of parchment.
I will be at our usual meeting place tonight.
Do not be late.
It was simple - short but in no way sweet. The words, though plain, had a foreboding ring to them. With a swift movement he sealed the note in an envelope and rang the bell for a servant. A short, stubby little man hastily opened the door, throwing himself to the ground.
“How may this lowly servant assist --?”
“Silence. Take this to the Lower Sector. Another man will meet you there. He will ask you if you have a package for his father. Give this to him only after you have heard those words. Is that clear?” The man mumbled something, the sounds of his voice muffled in the rug.
“You know the penalty for disobedience.” The servant was gone in less than the time span of a breath, and he sank back down in his chair, letting his arms sag on the armrests.
You better not be late.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
The room was shadowed - an attribute he hadn't thought it possessed before she came here. The giant dragon fireplace bared its teeth angrily now, the curtains blowing eerily in the wind. It was only thanks to his superior vision during the night that he saw her shivering in the darkest corner of the room, clad in a startlingly white yukata. He didn't make his way to her, however. It felt - at the moment - as if he didn't want to be close to her. The nausea that arose in him at seeing her there - huddled and weak in that corner - was unexplainable.
“Go away.”
He should have felt anger; should have yearned to punish her; but things were settling into a bothersome routine. He had questions, she had answers; he needed obedience, she gave him defiance; he hurt her, and she would make him feel things he shouldn't possess. Was this what regret really felt like? In all his life, he had never felt such a thing. When his mother died, he had felt nothing; same with his father. No - that was wrong -
He had felt shame when his father had died to save a pathetic human woman.
Even after he had spent his entire life building up his army, strengthening the Western Lands, and attaining a level of power superior to every creature in Japan, he had thrown it all away so easily. He looked at the woman on the floor and felt - for a moment - the same shame he felt when his father had disgraced the Taisho Family name. His father had tossed away his glory, his power, and his influence for one woman.
Did he felt regret towards her as well?
If there was one thing that he wanted least, it was to follow in his father's footsteps. His sire's failure was something real: something tangible and very threatening. He had devoted his entire life to become the exact opposite of his father where emotions were concerned. But…
…something whispered - nagged; a voice that he had sworn to cast away for the rest of his life. It had no name- no title through which it could gain any sort of power over him. But in his mind, he knew what it really was.
“I don't even know what you want from me. Just let me go.”
Her frightened voice, however, spurred him into an action he thought would surely cause the foreign feeling of regret. He heard that voice again, and for the first time in hundreds of years, he remembered its name. It was a discovery of a sort - a revelation that made the entire world morph into a different reality. He recognized the nagging as the pleading of his conscience - an entity that had been thrown into the depths of shadow and there starved until he thought it dead. But it had survived - despite all the actions he took towards preventing that sort of outcome.
“You should be grateful, human. It appears that there might be a use for you after all.”
Once again, his conscience pulled on his sleeve. Why be cruel to her? Why treat her this way? He knew the answer to that as if it was an instinct.
She will get too close.
Like the other little human child you host within your home?
This woman is different.
How?
This was ridiculous. Already, his point was shining in the brilliant spotlight of logic. Already, he was comparing her to Rin - whose presence could not be explained at all. She was simply…there…something that he would not allow to come to harm. Many called her his charge, and for a long time, he had accepted that title. It gave him a chance to somehow make an order out of chaos, but now…
…with this woman…
…things were really different…
What I'm looking for is a miko, Sesshoumaru.
He took a step towards her.
Two.
Three.
Four steps.
By the sixth he stood above her, feeling a great animosity yet a painful guilt grating at his skin. Yes…the regret he felt now was all too real. He wanted to get closer to her, to somehow return that untamed spirit back into those eyes now full of fear, but his body refused to move - his pride refused to bend.
You may prove a useful hireling in my service.
Hireling? How dare you?
No fee, of course will be provided, since you should consider it an honor to be useful to this Sesshoumaru.
I'm not just some object you can use at your whim!
Do not flatter yourself, woman. You have not proven your worth - not as a priestess, and especially not as a source of auxiliary power.
He had been wrong, hadn't he? She was more powerful than he had thought her to be: more clever, more agile, more spirited.
No…This Sesshoumaru regrets nothing, and makes no mistake about anything.
But he was wrong.
His pride screamed in protest, his legs bent, and he - almost wearily - slid to his knees in front of her. The scent of blood and herbal salves stung his nostrils, his eyes roaming over what he could see were bloodied bandages on her hands. Her face was pale when she caught his gaze, her eyes dull - the fear now replaced with hopelessness. His hand went forward - the owner knowing full well that his actions damned him into a closer relationship with sympathy, yet he couldn't stop; couldn't bring himself to see her light so thoroughly put out.
His fingers made contact with her cheek, his entire skin receiving a shock he'd never felt before. She winced at his touch, and he felt angry.
No…do not look away…
It would stay a silent plea until eternity - he thought - for voicing such a thing would be a sin unto itself. But she seemed to hear him - to understand his desperation somehow - for she opened her eyes again to look at him with trepidation. He could tell that she was remembering that moment of weakness - of frailty - the night he'd left her to die out in the wilderness. She covered his hand with hers, confusion radiating from her like a flame.
“Sesshoumaru?”
She really should not have said his name. It had a terrifying effect on him when she did. Reality was shifting again - his priorities with it. In seconds, he was pulling her into his arms, her soft yet unyielding body pressed so close that her body heat felt like it went through him. He felt her every movement, heard her every heart beat, and it felt terrible. Terrible and horrible and something that should never have come to pass.
Why is this happening? Why now? I don't need this.
But he did need it. Even now, as she took a little breath and spoke his name so softly, he needed her like nothing else. It was the same thing he had felt when he had first found her half-drowned on the riverbank. The same overwhelming, ragged desperation filled him now as it had then.
“Please…let me go…”
Her voice was pained, but he refused to accede to her demands. His claws dug into her hair, the softness of the raven tresses sending unfamiliar sensations down his spine. He was no stranger to such things as lust and carnal pleasure - yet now, with her, it felt different. His other hand found its way to her spine and he ran his claws down the thin, white cloth there. He felt her shivering, her muscles relaxing. It was getting more difficult to breathe.
“Sesshoumaru…let--”
He felt her entire body nearly convulse when he breathed a soft “no” into her ear. Her own nails dug into the silk on his chest, where both of her arms were neatly folded. Her own breathing was quick and shallow, little puffs of air tickling his neck. Her heart rate was reaching a rather alarming rate, and he wondered briefly if humans could handle such a thing. There was a slight tugging and he realized that she was pushing against his chest.
“This is just another way to use me…I won't let you do what you want with me…” Her cheeks were flushed, her huge eyes once again challenging. He watched her lips moving sensuously.
“I will do as I please.” And once again, he found himself pushing her to the floor and locking his lips with hers. He couldn't stop himself; not this time, not any other time. But perhaps she could, for when he felt her jerk as if in pain, the haze in his eyes cleared instantly. She was beginning to respond to him, though, parting her lips to give entrance to his tongue. The heat was building, his head almost reeling at the softness of her mouth. He felt her chest rising and falling against his and he thought that there was nothing more sensual in the world in that space of time. When she flinched again, however, he broke away from her as if by instinct. He already knew what was the matter.
His nails dug into the material of her yukata and violently moved it aside - nearly tearing the material in the process. She voiced her surprise and began to say something, but he silenced her. The bandages were old - he could see that much. He remembered a servant trying to tell him something this morning about the woman, but he had been too preoccupied with Kiba and Taminara to care.
As he saw the quickly loosening and bloodied cloth, everything came together all too quickly. There was a stab of discomfort in his solar plexus, and he recognized it as the same terror he'd felt for her when she had collapsed after the creature's attack on her mind; an even greater outrage followed.
“Why?” Her face was the picture of insubordination itself, and that served - as it always did - to fuel his quickly growing impatience.
“I don't need your charity, Sesshoumaru.” He didn't know what to say to that, so he remained silent, waiting for her to explain. “Even now…you're just using me, like you did before you abandoned me in the forest. And don't tell me that you don't care, because I already know!” Tears were surfacing, taunting him, and gliding down the smooth surface of her face. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but the tears must have blocked her ability of speech, for she just turned her face away from his.
“You little fool. You would do such a thing out of pride?”
He willed her to look at him again…
…and she did.
“Would you not?”
And with reluctant admittance, he knew that he would.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Wonderful reviews last chapter! Thank you so much! Your feedback really did spur me to write this chapter so quickly. It's kind of strange, but I think you guys get me excited more than I do about my stories. Thank you for voting!
Please stay in touch and drop a word or two!
--Raven91