InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Rebloom ❯ Rebloom ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Inuyasha or any rights associated with Inuyasha. Those rights belong to Takahashi, Rumiko!

Please read, enjoy, and review.

Warning: This fiction may disturb some viewers and others it will hopefully help. Read at your own discretion.


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Love is a flimsy word.

It can be bent, twisted into something unrecognizable, colored any shade of the rainbow, and worse yet it can be used without a thought or meaning behind it, leaving in its place an emptiness that ached as fiercely as any wound.

The word itself could be used in so many contexts. Many seemed to take it as a loose gift, a gift that they were welcome to use to achieve whatever objective they needed, pasting it over hurriedly cut fragments barely covering the gaping holes left behind.

'I love you.' That happened to be the context she knew so well and it ate like acid across her skin every time the words were muttered gruffly into her ear, the lips speaking them scalding her skin offensively with their mere presence.

"I love you," she parroted the words back now out of habit and they cloyed like something foul on her tongue.

A grin tugged at his lips and she watched as he strutted out of the room, leaving her to her solitude, a book clasped tightly in her trembling hands.

She wondered if she bashed him over the head screaming if he'd noticed the difference in her?


*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*


They were fighting again.

Is that what they call it these days? She mused to herself as she listened to his screaming, his face blotching red as his verbal assaults rose to a crescendo.

She'd been sitting in the den, curled up on a love seat with a good book, enjoying her day off work – the peace had been shattered when he'd burst in like a whirlwind, snarling and cursing before she'd even looked up.

Now, a good ten minutes later she still watched him, lips in a firm line as she stared intently at him with a calm she didn't feel, lest he think she had been ignoring him.

"I'm sorry," she finally offered as he stopped, staring at her with expectancy.

I'm not exactly sure what I'm sorry for, She let the thought die gracefully as he huffed, stomping out and slamming the door behind him. The sound set her teeth to grating and it was a good space of heartbeats before she realized that he had been yelling at her about loosing his job.

Weight crashed down on her slender shoulders and she slumped, eyes pricking with heat. Heavy lids closed, blocking out everything around her and she found herself wishing briefly, that it had all been a dream induced by lack of sleep or even madness - anything was better than the reality.

Vaguely, as she mentally counted the bills and debt now thrust into her hands – once again since he'd lost his job – she noted that he had blamed her.

After all, if she hadn't been so stupid as to annoy him and make him have a bad day, he'd still have a job, wouldn't he?

Her eyes opened and she glared at the book in her hands before flinging it away from her with a snarl, disgust welling in her chest. Stupid indeed.


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Showers were wonderful things; they washed away dirt and grime and the hot water was wonderful for relaxing tense muscles.

If the water was hot enough, and the scrubbing done hard enough, you could almost trick yourself into thinking that all your mistakes could be washed away just as easily – just as the tears were muffled by the spray before they too, were washed away.

With reluctance she emerged from the shower, her eyes rimmed red and her skin flushed and abused from the rough scrubbing. Her towels hung forgotten over the rack as she studied herself in the mirror.

Pathetic. The word was tinged with self hatred and she peered intently at herself as goose flesh danced across her form.

She wasn't very pretty, she decided. Her form had thickened over the years, her hair was no longer cared for as it had once been, and she noted lines etched into her face that hadn't been there three years ago.

Hands worn tough by daily work traced her tummy and hips, a frown darkening her face and etching more of those damn lines into her skin.

He still got off with her, didn't he?

It's only you who doesn't get much out of it. She scowled back up at her reflection as if to blame it for the thought and it irked her that she couldn't deny it.

What was so wrong with her; why were they so different now?

Looking into the mirror she noticed that her eyes were heavy and looked far too old for the sparse handful of years she'd lived and it was in those eyes that she found her answer.

Her problem, wasn't only her doubt of her situation, but that she didn't like herself anymore either.


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She hated him.

Her whole body shook with the realization and her breath came in a startled pant as she lay there beside him, head turned towards him as she watched him sleep.

It was there in that moment, as her most sensitive area ached from thrusts that had come before she was ready to accept him into her body. As tears pooled in her eyes remembering the careless disregard of her feelings and body; she realized how much she truly hated him.
It was too easy to contemplate grabbing a pillow, shoving it over his face, and holding it there as he squirmed and hurt beneath her as she did under him. The image of it, the phantom feel of his struggles under her set her stomach to rolling and she vaulted from the bed, leaving the room bare-ass naked in her attempt to flee from herself.

Oh god, She made it to the bathroom, left the door open wide behind her, and clung to the bowel of the toilet as her knees gave out and she heaved.

What was she becoming? She loved him, didn't she?

Bile rose hot and thick and she retched again, head spinning even as tears streamed unchecked over flushed cheeks.

Finally she could stand and she stumbled to the sink with legs gone soft, to rinse out her mouth. Her eyes raised of their own accord to the mirror as they had but days ago and she noticed a new change in her eyes.

They weren't old anymore, at least not right now. No, instead they were wild and wide with emotion, and she recoiled from her image.

Those were the eyes of a creature who'd been caged too long.

She was trapped, beaten down into submission until she fit perfectly into this cage known as her life.

Gods, she hated him.


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Enough was enough.

Teeth gritting she bore his tirade, the screams echoing in her ears, her arms wrapped tightly about the snarling pups in her lap.

The bastard had attacked her little ones, the small furry pets she'd claimed as her 'babies', because they'd lunged at him as he'd placed his hands on her and pushed sending her sailing backwards into the wall.

His screaming rose another notch and the smallest of the dogs faltered, curling into her as the other barred fangs and let his opinion be known with a growl that rose the hair of her arms.

"Shut up," her voice sounded foreign to her own ears and she stood, arms full of two fluffy children and she strode past him, hissing in his face as he made to reach for her, "Don't touch me!"

He jerked back as if slapped and watched her storm from the room, her heavy footfalls echoing on the stairs.

It was her fault anyway, He nodded to himself, ignoring the echoing sounds of her anger as she stomped about on the floor above him. If she'd only done as I said instead of doing whatever she wanted I wouldn't of had to call her all those names.He certainly wouldn't have pushed her if she had just backed down like she always did – like she was supposed to.

Stupid woman.


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She'd been planning for weeks.

Her heart ached, a distant pain, and she wondered how long it would be before that too faded, just like that 'love' that she had felt so long ago.

The word still left a bitter taste in her mouth, but she smiled anyway, waving as his car pulled away from the curb and she stayed there at the window, watching until he'd disappeared around the corner.

Her heart was heavy as her hand reached for the phone and she starred at it for a time before finally punching in the numbers she needed.

"I'm ready," she listened for a moment before nodding, going back to peer out the window, "Lets do this quickly."

She placed the cellular unit into her purse, gathered her two dogs and her cat and placed them – despite their protests – into carriers. Her task finished she opened the door, smiling sadly at the somber duo on her porch, and had invited them in before they'd had a chance to knock.

They worked with no words to load the rest of her belongings – a few boxes and her pets into their truck, the rest of her things having been sent secretly in small amounts to their place for holding.

"Are you alright?" Her 'sister' took her hand after she'd locked the door and placed her key under the mat, holding it firmly as they crossed the porch and descended the steps.

"Not really."

They said no more as they entered the cab of the truck, her sister taking the middle as she took the side, soft words leaving her lips as she checked on her disgruntled 'children'.

She watched out the back window as the place she'd called her home for years now slowly became smaller and finally was taken from her view as the truck rounded the corner and was steered towards the highway.

She'd left him a letter on the table to explain herself – though she'd been half tempted to just leave him with nothing, as she'd been left feeling over and over whenever he spoke her name.

"Sango?"

"Yeah, Kagome?" She turned to the call of her name, eyes bright with tears.

"We love you, you know that, right?" Inuyasha nodded in agreement, gentle eyes slanting over to study her momentarily before returning to the road.

"I know," leaning against the seat she let her eyes close, heart thundering in her chest, "I love you too."

She meant it and she wondered briefly why it didn't hurt as much to say that word now.

Love was such a cruel and wonderful word.



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Dedication: This fic is dedicated to two of my dearest friends; my 'sister' and 'brother'. Thank you for everything you have done for me; you're love and support are everything to me. I love you both.


Note from the author:

This story, is, unfortunately – or perhaps fortunately? - one that is close to my heart. I have come to find in my life that sometimes, despite how wonderful 'love' is supposed to be that it isn't always so. Love hurts, yes, but as Sango found in this story there is a point when the hurt and love are unbalanced and it is no longer the type of love it was meant to be.

Leaving is hard. It hurts and festers like a wound for a long time, but when you're no longer in that situation it gets better – it takes time, but it does get better.

There are times when some of us will find ourselves in the situation where we know that 'something' is wrong and despite how hard it can be I encourage anyone who is in this type of relationship or worse to remove themselves from that situation because it is not healthy and the likelihood of it getting better are not favorable – not to say that it hasn't happened, but that reality is a grim and unkind mistress sometimes.

I speak that from personal experience and I hope for the best for everyone.

Whatever lesson you take from this story – if you take one at all – I hope that my sharing it with you can help you or someone close to you, and if not, I hope that it can give comfort to those of you who understand.

May you be blessed with love that is true, that is made of more joy than sorrow, and may you all be cherished for the beauty you hold in your hearts.

Always,

Jade