InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Seven Feudal Fairy Tales ❯ Gentle Currents ( Chapter 6 )

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and other associated companies.

 

 

Chapter Six: Gentle Currents

 

 

An uncomfortable silence was probably the best way to describe it. Sure there were plenty of sounds surrounding her, like the lapping of water against the sandy shore or the twittering of song birds flitting through the reeds. With even the soothing rush of the breeze passing by her ears, that little, awkward feeling of a long silence remained, making time bloat.

 

Expertly, she dipped the chopstick into the shallow water, seeking the silty bottom with the tip. With a careful push, she propelled the makeshift boat forward and then repeated the process over again. It was a simple enough method and she only spun the bowl in dizzying circles a few times before perfecting it.

 

Seated intimately close to her bare legs was the proud and aloof inu daiyoukai. The rice bowl which would have fit one small, finger-sized boy comfortably was a bit stressed to accompany both the high schoolgirl and the full-grown demon. After wisely removing her shoes, she stood carefully between the swirls of red and white silk and the downy fur of his long pelt. Ever mindful of where her light steps treaded, she had once stepped on a dog's tail in the past. It wasn't a pleasant experience for the animal and she could only imagine what the repercussions would be if she were to do it to one that was larger and well, meaner.

 

She glanced down at Sesshoumaru in between thrusts. Peacefully reclined, his head was rested comfortably against the rim of the bowl. His eyes were closed, but she knew he wasn't actually asleep. He was merely certain that there was nothing worth occupying his attention at the moment.

 

She however, wanted to talk. It wasn't so much that she wanted to talk to him. She didn't actually care who it was that she was talking to so long as it was someone. Her task was desperately dull, a job she had begrudgingly accepted on the idea that if any fish or birds decided that they looked like a tasty bowl of someone's escaping breakfast, he would dispatch them in his usual fashion. Nevertheless, she was beginning to believe that she had gotten the poorer end of the deal. Swiftly brushing that thought aside, she returned her focus to him. As it was, how to talk to the youkai lord eluded her, so she set to simply study him as she went about her work.

 

Dawning on her gradually, she couldn't actually remember looking at him in any great detail in the past. Before being trapped in the poem, she only saw him when he and Inuyasha quarreled. To say quarreling was putting it mildly, but when she considered how violent the feudal era was, it seemed at the very least, appropriate. After all, neither one had killed the other yet. What she had figured out about the daiyoukai was that he was a cold, ruthless elitist who held others with disdain and contempt. Slaying anyone who stood in his way, he literally lived up to his name through death and destruction. Yet, here he sat beneath the dappled boughs of the overhanging trees, the picture of serenity and beauty.

 

The soft light reflected off of his flawless, alabaster skin leaving Kagome to silently wonder if he even had pores. She then wisely rejected a fleeting whim of brushing her fingertips along the line of his jaw just to see if it felt as smooth as it looked. Magenta stripes cut harshly across his high cheekbones and the navy blue, crescent moon on his forehead peeked through his soft, silver bangs. The faint, burgundy hue that highlighted his eyes was even more noticeable as he dozed lightly, rocked into slumber by the gentle ripples of the river. Never had she seen such a striking man in her life. In fact, she wanted to call him beautiful to the point of being feminine. But, hinting at his muscular neck and then beneath where his thick, silk clothes draped particularly close to his flesh was the body of someone who was distinctly male.

 

“You have stopped punting,” he observed quietly, his fine mouth the only part of him that felt the need to move.

 

“Oh, I was--” the schoolgirl stalled, searching for an excuse as a blush warmed her cheeks. Silently, how she wished she could have willed her redness away with a single thought.

 

He snorted in reply, his tone clearly doubting, causing her cheeks to only darken in their rosiness. Wanting to object, she instantly realized it wouldn't be in her best interest to argue with an intelligent youkai lord who obviously knew more than he was letting on. Instead she went back to her punting, if one could call it that. A rice bowl and chopsticks weren't exactly designed for such a thing.

 

Sesshoumaru's dark gray eyelashes opened slowly as the bowl resumed its course up the tranquil river. His honey eyes spied up at the woman who was busily working at her task, her eyes carefully avoiding any further glances in his direction. Mildly smirking, he wondered what aspect of his appearance had distracted her so. He knew that in the realm of humans he was a remarkably attractive man, but as daiyoukais went, he was barely above average. His deep, masculine voice and muscular frame denied him true beauty, but he found that he was quite content with that notion. In dealings with his own kind in the past, he had met a fair number of other lords who were so beautiful that even to this day he had no idea if they were male or female. He liked being noticeably a man beyond a few characteristics of his face.

 

Watching the schoolgirl punt, he followed her fluid movements as they found a rhythm while she rocked back and forth. Tanned and sinewy, her legs veered close to his face, nearly touching occasionally before she swayed away. Smirking again, he wondered if he should inform her of how well her indecent skirt betrayed her from where he sat, but then he decided against it. Their pace was unacceptably slow as it was and it would only deteriorate further if she was distressed over her appearance. Besides, he was rather enjoying himself.

 

Quietly, he sniffed the air as she drew near and then scowled. Like the taste of water, plainness was all that greeted his nose. Closing his eyes once more, he suddenly wanted to shut out the world that allowed him to see, but deprived him of his most treasured sense, his sense of smell. It was worse than losing an arm. Without scent, his surroundings felt more than simply flat, but barren as well. The trees weren't trees without the sweet scent of sap. The river wasn't a river without the sour scent of algae. Even the human that swayed before him didn't seem real without the saltiness of her sweat and tang of her body odor.

 

“Sesshoumaru?” Kagome asked, stirring the youkai lord out of his shallow lament. Her voice wavered slightly in the air, mildly piquing his curiosity.

 

“Hn?”

 

“What was your father like?”

 

Sesshoumaru's eyes flew open and he cast a hard stare at her. Facing away from him, she was still avoiding face, but for different reasons now.

 

“Why do you ask?” he asked flatly.

 

“The old man.”

 

“Old man?”

 

“Yeah. The one back at the one room house we appeared in.”

 

“What about him?”

 

“The way he looked at me,” Kagome replied, dipping the chopstick into the water, “He seemed so proud, so happy with me. I never really knew my father, so I was wondering what your father was like.”

 

“Hn,” Sesshoumaru grunted, closing his eyes yet again, “Youkai parents and human parents are not the same.”

 

“But, they're still parents, right?”

 

“In name, perhaps.”

 

“So, what was your father like?”

 

The uncomfortable silence returned, once more making its nest between the two travelers. After a long moment, Kagome settled back into her rhythm, resigning her thoughts to her inner counsel.

 

The daiyoukai sighed softly.

 

“He was a great youkai lord,” he elaborated, “And he died before his time. What he did before his end is of no concern to me since his death was honorable and worthy of a warrior.”

 

“That's all?”

 

“What more could there be?”

 

“I don't know? Maybe I was expecting--”

 

“Demons do not experience emotions like humans. As a miko, you should know this. Amongst youkai nobility, all that is important is the station.”

 

“I guess. But as nobility don't you resemble humans more than the base youkai below you whose existence is more instinctual than anything?”

 

“Perhaps, but we are still full-blooded youkai, unlike my half-brother. If you are relying on him for your assumptions, then your misguided desire to find a sliver of humanity in a demon will bring you more than mild misfortune.”

 

“I'm willing to take that chance,” Kagome replied thoughtfully as she turned his answer over in her mind. It was true that most youkai were simple vicious creatures who acted only to serve their own means, but Shippou and Kirara weren't that way. Kouga wasn't that way.

 

He snorted.

 

“Look, I don't go around trusting every youkai in the hopes that my faith in their relative goodness will keep them from betraying me at some point. I don't trust you.”

 

“A wise decision.”

 

“So, do you think your father was proud of you?”

 

“Proud of me?” Sesshoumaru repeated, slightly amazed at the woman's tenacity.

 

“That was kind of what I wanted to know.”

 

“Hmph,” he grunted and resettled his body in the comfortable curve of the bowl, “A father's pride implies that his son would know what his father expected from him.”

 

“What do you mean--”

 

Suddenly, the water churned beneath the bobbing bowl, tossing it violently about the rough waves. Spying up, the shiny, pewter snout of a fish appeared at the surface as it investigated the curious boat. Then with a jerking movement, it nudged the unstable craft heavily a few times. Desperately, Kagome dug her chopstick into the riverbed, hoping the sandy foundation would be sturdy enough to keep her balance. However, after the final blow of its mustached nose before it slipped below into the water, her efforts were thoroughly squelched. Losing her grip, she fell back and landed hard on a surprisingly soft demon.

 

Together they sat with Kagome neatly cradled on his lap, their eyes locked on each other. She stared at his amber irises that glittered like citrine with narrow, black slits that nearly severed them in half. Hidden in their depths, his intelligence and strength pooled. Marbled along the edges with tones of sepia, he stared at her dark irises that framed the perfect, black orbs of her pupils. Hidden in their depths, her curiosity and determination pooled.

 

Then it was over. The fish breached again, seeking the stubborn meal in the swaying bowl. In one single, fluid movement, Sesshoumaru rolled his body over, his cheek brushing Kagome's lips as he moved. Shifting with him, the schoolgirl quickly found herself uncomfortably pressed against the bottom of the bowl, fixed under his weight as he readied his fist. With a well-aimed blow, he struck the fish across the snout, sending the unfortunate animal skipping across the surface of the water before it sank for the last time.

 

Staring out over the river until he was satisfied that the problem had been adequately dealt with; he finally looked down at the stunned woman he had pinned beneath him. His long hair draping down, it framed her face as he studied her.

 

“Are you injured?” he asked when her shocked expression didn't waver.

 

“I-I'm fine,” she finally stuttered, her cheeks nearly forgetting to flush.

 

“Good,” the daiyoukai replied and then he carefully stood up to survey the river, “How necessary is rowing to the folktale?”

 

“I-I don't know.”

 

“Fine.”

 

The wind around him picking up, his hakama pants billowed as he leapt onto the rim of the bowl.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“We will go by a faster route.”

 

“The poem said to row.”

 

“Is punting the same as rowing?”

 

“Well, no.”

 

“If you choose to stay with this vile vessel, then do as you wish. I will not,” he added with finality and then poised himself to step off.

 

“Wait!” Kagome called out, quickly standing up. She looked the daiyoukai over, her expression perplexed. The idea of her riding on Sesshoumaru's back briefly crossed her mind and she nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of the image it conjured. The poised, elegant demon undoubtedly didn't plan on her riding him around like a horse unlike the indifferent hanyou. “How do I…?”

 

“Hold still.”

 

A curl of his soft pelt scooped her up, winding gently around her frame. Relaxing in the embrace of the luxurious fur, she resisted her earlier urge to rub and play in the deep pile. Then with a casual step, they left the lacquered, rice bowl behind and flew through the air.

 

Cradled comfortably in his pelt, the schoolgirl suddenly realized how exhausting the day's events had been. The gentle breeze whipped at her face and hair as they traveled, further lulling her into unconsciousness. But before she slipped away, one thought slinked into her mind and she touched her lips, bringing an unintentional smile to them. His skin was smoother and softer than it looked.