InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity Redux: Fruition ❯ Fruition ( Chapter 61 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

"I love this place, you know."

Ben chuckled as he wandered along the shore with Charity, her arms wrapped around his as she gazed up at him, her profile bright, luminous in the waning light of day.  He'd opted to bring her back down here to the island for their honeymoon.  After all, the last time hadn't exactly been for pleasure, and there were a number of beautiful spots that he could take her to go sight-seeing . . . and having her all to himself?  Well, he could deal with scrounging stuff up for dinner and having to make their own bed in the morning if the trade-off was two weeks of Charity with no distractions and no hidden agendas . . . "I thought maybe it would be nicer to come here than it would be to go stay in some hotel somewhere," Ben remarked.

She nodded, leaning on his arm.  "Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Philips," she said, turning her head to smile up at him.  "I like that."

"I do, too," he said.  "I . . . I like it a lot . . ."

She laughed suddenly.  "How long do you suppose it took everyone to realize that we'd left?"

Ben grinned.  "No idea, but seeing your brother's face when he inadvertently caught the garter belt?  That was pretty priceless."  Considering Mamoruzen wasn't really that close to the bachelors in attendance, it was definitely a moment to remember.  Ben wasn't even going to do the whole garter belt thing, but Cain had told him not to be an old whiner about it, and to that end, Ben had done it.  What he hadn't counted on was Cain, ass that he was, smacking him in the arm right as he released the garter.  It had flown pretty high overhead and had looped around Gunnar's champagne glass.

She shook her head but giggled.  "I don't know . . . The look on Eddie's face when she caught the bouquet . . .?  That was pretty good, too . . . Do you suppose she and John Martin . . .?"

He shrugged.  "Only if he's a glutton for punishment."

"You be nice," she chided, lightly poking him in the ribs.  "Did you see Kells' little tux?" She waved a hand in blatant dismissal of her own question.  "Of course, you did!  Was that not the cutest thing in the world, ever—as in, ever-ever?  I didn't know they made tuxes that small!"

He rolled his eyes, but his smile didn't fade.  To be honest, he wasn't sure that anything in the world could bring him down, at least, at the moment.  "You don't mind if they stay with us for awhile?  Until he can get a place, get his bearings . . .?  I mean, I know you said it was fine, but . . ."

“Of course, I did, because it is,” Charity insisted.  “They can stay with us as long as they need to—even if they need to stay for the next twenty years.”

“Okay, now you’re just being a bit too nice, if you ask me,” Ben intoned.

Charity laughed, but that laughter died away slowly, only to be replaced by a pensive kind of expression.  “I grew up with so much family,” she said slowly, seriously.  “And now, you have a chance to have that, too.  I want that for you.”

Ben sighed.  “Well, speaking of . . . Kyouhei said that the shipping company has an office in the city.  Maybe . . .”

He trailed off, but Charity seemed to get where he was trying to go with that.  “If we need to move back to New York City for a time, then that’s okay with me, too,” she told him.

“You, uh . . . You wouldn’t mind?”

"Why would I mind?  I told you I didn't, and I meant it," she countered softly, and she smiled again.  "Your family is mine now, too . . . and I like Kyouhei-san."

"You're amazing; did you know that?"

She bit her lip as her smile faded just a little.  "Maybe I should call and check on the girls," she ventured at length.  "I'm sure they're fine, but I'd feel better if I knew . . ."

Ben sighed and pulled out his cell phone since she'd purposefully left hers in the house.  "Mama?  Hi!"

"Charity?  Aren't you supposed to be on your honeymoon?" Sierra asked.  Charity had put her mother on speakerphone so that Ben could hear everything, too.

"Yes, and it's beautiful here.  I just wanted to check in with you, see how the girls are doing . . ."

"They don't miss you in the least," Sierra insisted with a giggle.  "Of course, they miss you, but you're supposed to be enjoying your first night as newlyweds, and I daresay that calling your mom wasn't really on Ben's list of things he wanted to do tonight."

"I don't mind," Ben replied as he sat down in the sand to wait, wiggling his bare toes, savoring the feel.  When was the last time that he'd noticed something as silly as the earth under his feet?  And just what was it about Charity that made every single moment count, that made him stop and consider everything in the space of a breath, simply because of the way that those simple, mundane things always made her smile?

"I'm glad the girls aren't being any trouble," Charity went on.

"Never, ever," Sierra said. "Oh, before you go, I should tell you.  Coral actually held Emmeline."

"She did?  Really?  How did that go?

Sierra sighed.  "Well, unfortunately, it was right after we'd fed her a bottle, and . . ."

"Oh, no . . ."

Sierra tried not to laugh, Ben would have to give her that.  Even though Emmeline wasn't as bad about spitting up anymore, she did still do it from time to time, and apparently, when Coral held her, it was time.  "Well, she swears that she's never going to hold a baby—any baby—ever again, so there's that."

Charity giggled.  "Poor nee-san . . ."

"Now, you go on and enjoy your night.  I'll give the girls kisses from you both, and I'll take pictures tomorrow.  Toga and I were planning on taking them to the aquarium."

"Okay, Mama.  Thanks again, and I love you and Papa, both."

"We love you, too.  Night, sweetie.  Night, Ben."

The phone call ended, and she sank down beside him, handing him back the phone and leaning on his shoulder.  "Sorry."

He shook his head.  "Don't apologize for being worried about our babies, Charity."

She sighed.  "Speaking of babies . . . You really don't have any objections to the idea of Kyouhei adopting Kells?"

Ben slowly shrugged.  "Not really.  I mean, it's not going to affect whether or not I am a part of his life growing up, and Kyouhei's right.  Adopting him will make it a lot easier for Kells to have a normal life."

She considered that as she idly drew in the sand, probably ruining her manicure in the process.  "Is . . . Is Kyouhei in danger?  Does anyone else know what happened?"

He let out a deep breath as he frowned at the sunset, the vibrant colors that seemed a little diminished in light of Charity's current train of thought.  "I . . . I really don't know, but even whispers, subtle accusations, can take their tolls, and . . . And even if there are those who have figured out that he had some role in it, he's safer here than he is in Japan, if it came to that."

She nodded.  "And . . . And Manami-san . . ."  Grimacing as she considered the swan-youkai, she bit her lip.  "They can't repair her wings, can they?"

He wanted to lie, to tell her that it would all be fine, but she knew, didn't she?  And lying to her wasn't really the answer, either.  "I think the only thing that could help her, maybe, is if her blood repairs them over time, but it may take a long, long while for that to happen—if it happens."

"I wish I could have seen her fly."

"She . . . She was beautiful when she did," he allowed.  "When we were young, when we didn't have to hide what we were, she'd fly, just because she could, and I always thought that she was her most beautiful when she landed . . . She had this sparkle in her eyes, this excitement in her youki . . . She was . . . stunning . . ."

"But she can still hunt if she wants, can't she?"

He nodded.  "If she wants to, if her youki hasn’t been affected like Cartham’s was before," he said.  "She's alive, and she's thankful for that."

Charity smiled.  It was a little thin, a little sad, but it was still a genuine expression.  "I hope she finds what we have someday," she replied softly.  Then she frowned.  "Ben?"

"Hmm?"

Her response was a little long in coming.  "I was thinking . . ."

"About . . .?"

She shrugged nonchalantly—a little too nonchalantly.  "Well, Kyouhei-san's single . . . and Manami-san's single . . ."

"Why do I feel like I don't want to know where you're going with this?"

She giggled.  "It's just a thought.  I mean, the two of them would look so good together, and—"

He pressed his finger against her lips to silence her.  She blinked and smiled.  "You need to leave them both alone," he insisted.  "They're both adults.  They can both figure things out for themselves."

"Maybe just a little nudge in that direction?" she questioned.

He shook his head.  "Absolutely not."

"Ruin my best ideas, why don't you, Ben Philips?" she pouted.

He chuckled.  "Shouldn't we be discussing ourselves?  Our future?  Something like that?" he reminded her.

She laughed and pulled away from him, getting to her feet, only to wander, ankle-deep, into the frothing tide.  It surged over her feet, made her laugh, and it was remarkable to him, just how she hadn't changed since that night so long ago, when he'd danced with her in his arms, when he'd stared into those magical eyes of hers.  Sure, she'd matured.  Her body had changed from that of a girl to a complete woman, and he'd made himself stay back, to watch from afar as she'd grown, how experience had filled those empty spots inside her, how circumstance had tempered her smiles to expressions of true joy, of true happiness . . . Yet, as much as she'd changed, those qualities she possessed had remained the same, too, and that was Charity.

Standing in the fading sunlight, the image of her flashed through his mind of that day not that long ago, when she'd done the same thing.  The dress was different—this time, a white cotton, sleeveless thing that seemed a little old-fashioned, but somehow perfect on her—as the breeze coming off the gulf molded it to her body: the gentle slope of her hips, the fullness of her breasts, the narrow waist that was hidden beneath the slightly baggy cut of the dress . . .

Letting her head fall back as she breathed in the smell of the water, the air, the sand, and just like before, he was drawn to her, rising from the sand, carried forward by half-thoughts and unformed words.  The water was warm on his feet, and he caught her hand, tugged her around, pulled her in close as he kissed her.

The explosion in his brain was instant and fierce as she sighed against him, as she rested her hand on his heart.  Her pulse echoed in his ears like the beat of a drum—steady and strong and rapidly escalating as he let everything fall away except for her, for the spiraling sensations that surged through him.  Everything about her seemed to call out to him in whispers and sighs and insular breaths.  His answer was a steady crush of her body against his, of their hearts beating together.

He broke off the kiss with a sigh, taking her hand and leading her back along the beach.

"Are we heading back already?"

He nodded.  "I thought it might be better than the alternative of getting sand everywhere where you don't want it to be," he said.

His allusion only made her giggle as she walked along beside him.  "Are you telling me you don't have any better control over yourself than that?"

"Yeah, that's pretty accurate."

She laughed.  "That's kind of sad, Ben."

He shrugged.  "The truth usually is."

"But making love on the sand is supposed to be entirely romantic," she pointed out.  He could tell from her tone that she was teasing him.

"That notion is perpetuated by fools who have never tried to make love on the sand," he stated.

"Oh?  Is there something you haven't told me?"

He shook his head.  "Nope, but I've sat in the sand often enough to know what I'm talking about, and if it's that bad while I'm wearing a swimming suit, I don't even want to know how bad it would be if I were completely naked."

"I suppose you have a point," she mused.  "I've gotten sand in my bikini top before, and it was pretty unpleasant . . ."

He spared a glance at her, only to find her peering up at him, and he smiled.  "I'm kind of sorry that I made you wait for me for so long," he said.

She nodded.  "So am I . . . but we're together now, so I'd like to think that it was all worth it."

He stopped, drew her into a hug, content, for the moment, just to feel her beside him, next to him, and the realization that she would be right there with him for the rest of their lives?  It was a humbling thing, bringing to mind so many different times when he'd wondered, when he'd convinced himself, time and again, that he just needed to be patient because a woman like Charity was most certainly worth the wait.

The path behind them had twisted and turned, and yet, they'd always found their way back to each other, and even if Ben could understand and appreciate the pain he'd inadvertently put her through, he still had to wonder if everything hadn't worked out for the best.  Besides, he had a long, long time to make it up to her, didn't he?

That's what forever was all about, after all, and even if they had to deal with those unexpected kinds of things in the future, he had no doubts that they could deal with those things, too, as long as they had each other.  Their love story might not have started out in the conventional, boy-meets-girl kind of way, but that's what made it so much more fulfilling in the end.  The fruition of those thoughts, those desires, those moments that stretched into such a long, long time, so many sleepless nights . . .

That's what they had, and it would endure, he just knew it, and, glancing at her again, he saw it in her eyes, didn't he?  She . . .

Charity knew it, too.