InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Now I Know ❯ Going to Him -- Thoughts of Betrayal and Loss ( Chapter 2 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
“Inuyasha” was created, and is owned, by Rumiko Takahashi. I’m just putting the characters through some angst and serving up a little justice.
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Last time:
All was silent for a few minutes before the almost imperceptible sound of quiet footprints heading away from their campsite and into the woods was heard by those who couldn’t sleep. A shaky sigh echoed in the clearing, and Miroku picked up the words whispered by a voice quavering with suppressed emotion, “Don’t go, … please, Kagome, … don’t go to him.”
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Miroku bowed his head as he saw the hanyou leave his spot in the tree and take off into the forest. He had known he would go. He always did. He would go, and he would watch them, and he would try to console her after he leaves, and he would carry her back to camp where she would cry herself to sleep. And tomorrow, they would continue their journey, and the two of them would walk along in silence -- unable to reach out to each other for the comfort they each needed so desperately. In spite of everything that happened, Miroku couldn’t help but hope that they could get past it all. He firmly believed they were the only ones who could heal each other’s broken hearts and wounded souls.
Kagome quickly and quietly made her way through the forest, dodging low-hanging branches, which whipped past her face in her hurry, -- sometimes stinging her cheeks if they caught her. She stumbled a few times over hidden tree roots, and even over her own feet in her haste and desperation. It was difficult to see very far ahead of her at night, but nothing could keep her away from her destination. He was waiting for her. Her breath caught in her throat at the thought. It had been almost two months since she had seen him last, and she had been afraid that something had happened to him. That was her greatest fear -- that he would leave and she would never see him again -- that she would never know what had happened. She didn’t think she could bear that. It was hard enough to go on as it is, and some days she didn’t want to. But she did, because he wanted her to, and she owed him that.
She knew her sadness affected the others, and it only served to fill her with remorse. She had tried to keep up appearances for a while, but the strain was too hard on her, and she hadn’t fooled anyone anyway. So she didn’t even try anymore. No one knew what to say to her. That the fates had conspired against her this way would have been almost funny, if it weren’t so damned unbearably, ironically, tragic. Where was the justice? Naraku must be laughing his ass off at them. He couldn’t have planned this better if he tried. And even once this whole “quest” of theirs was over -- even if they won, she would still have lost more than could ever be replaced.
Well, now she knew how the others must have felt all along, and she felt foolish for her earlier, upbeat attitude. She had been a child. How in the world had they put up with her and her stupid attempts at reassuring them that everything would be okay in the end? It almost served her right to finally find out firsthand what they had been going through all along. She was surprised they had tolerated her naïve, untried optimism. Then again, she supposed she had reminded them of a time when they had been as blind and happy in their ignorance. No, she hadn’t made light of their sorrows. She had offered her sincere sympathy, support, and comfort, but now she knew she hadn’t really, truly understood the weight of the tragedies they were living with on a day-to-day basis. Now she had something in common with all of them -- some more than others, and she couldn’t help but think she wasn’t handling it as well as they had.
Miroku had lost his father to Naraku’s curse, and was living with the fear and knowledge that it could take him, too, suddenly and without warning. Shippou had lost his parents. Sango … Sango had lost her father, her fellow villagers, and in a horrible twist of fate, her brother, even though he still walked the earth. She yearned to save that brother, and Kagome had encouraged her to believe they would find a way to do it, but she knew now there wasn’t. She hadn’t said as much, but she was sure the slayer had known it all along.
And then there was Inuyasha. He had lost the only person who had shown him any companionship, friendship, or love since his mother had died when he was a child. He had lost her, and then had been forced to watch as a shell of the woman who held his heart and commanded his loyalties was resurrected and walked among the living, even though she, herself, was dead. And at first, she had been filled with hatred and anger towards him. She had tried to take him to hell. She had seemed to conspire with his enemy. She had attacked the person who had saved him from his long imprisonment as he was sealed to that tree she had left him on. She met with him, and she left him, over and over again. And Kagome was sure it must have been harder watching her go each time as she had regained more of her former self -- more of those tender feelings she had once had for him, that had to leave him yearning for the past and all they had hoped to have together.
And now she was gone again. At the hand of his friend. The very friend who had pledged her loyalty to him, who had stood by his side, who had accepted him and forgiven him, and … loved him. Kagome closed her eyes briefly at the thought. After all they had been through, … after all they had meant to each other, … after all he had meant to her, she was the one to commit the ultimate betrayal. She had killed Kikyou. And the really sad thing was … in that moment, for the first time ever, she did know exactly how he must feel.
She shook the gloomy thoughts away. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t change what had happened. And she was almost there. It wouldn’t do for him to see her crying. She wouldn’t tarnish what little time they had together by giving in to her misery. After he was gone again, then she would cry. For herself, for him, for Inuyasha, for all of them.
Inuyasha watched as she ran the rest of the way, hurling herself at the one she loved, and kissing him passionately when he lifted her up and held her against his chest. He wanted to hate him. He wanted to tell him to leave her alone -- that by coming around, he was only hurting her more. But he couldn’t tell him that, because it was his fault. He was the one who had hurt her, who had left her vulnerable, and who had repaid her love and loyalty to him by stealing her chance at happiness. He had done enough already. He had killed him. He had killed him and damned them all. So, he just watched as they sat and talked quietly, and touched each other, and took solace just being in each other’s presence. He recognized the look on her face -- she used to look at him that way, … before she fell in love with him, -- her dead lover, his half-brother, Sesshoumaru.
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Last time:
All was silent for a few minutes before the almost imperceptible sound of quiet footprints heading away from their campsite and into the woods was heard by those who couldn’t sleep. A shaky sigh echoed in the clearing, and Miroku picked up the words whispered by a voice quavering with suppressed emotion, “Don’t go, … please, Kagome, … don’t go to him.”
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Chapter Two: Going to Him -- Thoughts of Betrayal and Loss
Inuyasha watched her leave, and felt the ache in his chest grow heavy and tight. It was all he could do not to run after her and beg her to stay. His claws were digging bloody half-moons in the palms of his hands in his effort to make himself sit still instead of leaping down and rushing headlong through the forest in the direction she had gone. He had tried ordering her to stay once before, but the only thing that had accomplished was to make her look at him with those huge blue eyes full of accusation and disbelief, which had made his gut clench with guilt and regret. He had tried to tell her it was too dangerous for her to go alone, and she had laughed. Not that beautiful, melodic, infectious laugh he loved. No, this one was harsh, brittle, and full of contempt -- though whether it was directed at him or herself, he didn’t know. She had gone, and he had followed. To make sure she was safe, he told himself. But the truth was, he got some sort of perverse satisfaction in subjecting himself to the sight of them together. Because he deserved it. He wanted to beg her, plead with her to stay, but he didn’t have that right. Not after what he had done. He had no one to blame but himself, and now they were both suffering. Fuck. What a mess he had made of everything. If only … yeah, if only …Miroku bowed his head as he saw the hanyou leave his spot in the tree and take off into the forest. He had known he would go. He always did. He would go, and he would watch them, and he would try to console her after he leaves, and he would carry her back to camp where she would cry herself to sleep. And tomorrow, they would continue their journey, and the two of them would walk along in silence -- unable to reach out to each other for the comfort they each needed so desperately. In spite of everything that happened, Miroku couldn’t help but hope that they could get past it all. He firmly believed they were the only ones who could heal each other’s broken hearts and wounded souls.
Kagome quickly and quietly made her way through the forest, dodging low-hanging branches, which whipped past her face in her hurry, -- sometimes stinging her cheeks if they caught her. She stumbled a few times over hidden tree roots, and even over her own feet in her haste and desperation. It was difficult to see very far ahead of her at night, but nothing could keep her away from her destination. He was waiting for her. Her breath caught in her throat at the thought. It had been almost two months since she had seen him last, and she had been afraid that something had happened to him. That was her greatest fear -- that he would leave and she would never see him again -- that she would never know what had happened. She didn’t think she could bear that. It was hard enough to go on as it is, and some days she didn’t want to. But she did, because he wanted her to, and she owed him that.
She knew her sadness affected the others, and it only served to fill her with remorse. She had tried to keep up appearances for a while, but the strain was too hard on her, and she hadn’t fooled anyone anyway. So she didn’t even try anymore. No one knew what to say to her. That the fates had conspired against her this way would have been almost funny, if it weren’t so damned unbearably, ironically, tragic. Where was the justice? Naraku must be laughing his ass off at them. He couldn’t have planned this better if he tried. And even once this whole “quest” of theirs was over -- even if they won, she would still have lost more than could ever be replaced.
Well, now she knew how the others must have felt all along, and she felt foolish for her earlier, upbeat attitude. She had been a child. How in the world had they put up with her and her stupid attempts at reassuring them that everything would be okay in the end? It almost served her right to finally find out firsthand what they had been going through all along. She was surprised they had tolerated her naïve, untried optimism. Then again, she supposed she had reminded them of a time when they had been as blind and happy in their ignorance. No, she hadn’t made light of their sorrows. She had offered her sincere sympathy, support, and comfort, but now she knew she hadn’t really, truly understood the weight of the tragedies they were living with on a day-to-day basis. Now she had something in common with all of them -- some more than others, and she couldn’t help but think she wasn’t handling it as well as they had.
Miroku had lost his father to Naraku’s curse, and was living with the fear and knowledge that it could take him, too, suddenly and without warning. Shippou had lost his parents. Sango … Sango had lost her father, her fellow villagers, and in a horrible twist of fate, her brother, even though he still walked the earth. She yearned to save that brother, and Kagome had encouraged her to believe they would find a way to do it, but she knew now there wasn’t. She hadn’t said as much, but she was sure the slayer had known it all along.
And then there was Inuyasha. He had lost the only person who had shown him any companionship, friendship, or love since his mother had died when he was a child. He had lost her, and then had been forced to watch as a shell of the woman who held his heart and commanded his loyalties was resurrected and walked among the living, even though she, herself, was dead. And at first, she had been filled with hatred and anger towards him. She had tried to take him to hell. She had seemed to conspire with his enemy. She had attacked the person who had saved him from his long imprisonment as he was sealed to that tree she had left him on. She met with him, and she left him, over and over again. And Kagome was sure it must have been harder watching her go each time as she had regained more of her former self -- more of those tender feelings she had once had for him, that had to leave him yearning for the past and all they had hoped to have together.
And now she was gone again. At the hand of his friend. The very friend who had pledged her loyalty to him, who had stood by his side, who had accepted him and forgiven him, and … loved him. Kagome closed her eyes briefly at the thought. After all they had been through, … after all they had meant to each other, … after all he had meant to her, she was the one to commit the ultimate betrayal. She had killed Kikyou. And the really sad thing was … in that moment, for the first time ever, she did know exactly how he must feel.
She shook the gloomy thoughts away. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t change what had happened. And she was almost there. It wouldn’t do for him to see her crying. She wouldn’t tarnish what little time they had together by giving in to her misery. After he was gone again, then she would cry. For herself, for him, for Inuyasha, for all of them.
Inuyasha watched as she ran the rest of the way, hurling herself at the one she loved, and kissing him passionately when he lifted her up and held her against his chest. He wanted to hate him. He wanted to tell him to leave her alone -- that by coming around, he was only hurting her more. But he couldn’t tell him that, because it was his fault. He was the one who had hurt her, who had left her vulnerable, and who had repaid her love and loyalty to him by stealing her chance at happiness. He had done enough already. He had killed him. He had killed him and damned them all. So, he just watched as they sat and talked quietly, and touched each other, and took solace just being in each other’s presence. He recognized the look on her face -- she used to look at him that way, … before she fell in love with him, -- her dead lover, his half-brother, Sesshoumaru.