InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Sleep Paralysis ❯ Sympathy ( Chapter 44 )

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

A/n: I know... it has been a very...very...very...very long time since I updated. No, I don't happen to remember what my old reviews were, I doubt I might get any for this chapter, since it has been so long. Long story short, babies take up a lot of time xD. That's it. And video games... And... Well. No. Whatever xD. If you ever wanna see if I still live my deviant art isss...

http://white-luna.deviantart.com/

If you ever wanna see what I am up to. I keep my artwork there. :3. As you can tell I've been working at it and it's coming along slowly.

Anyway, let's hop to it, shall we? And no... NO IT'S NOT OVER. Until you see the words NARAKU IS DED KTHXU the story is not over xD. It may take five years but we'll get there x.x;.

(And at this rate it might just take 5 years e.e;...)
Luna-



Sesshomaru felt his eyelids rub over his eyeballs with the consistency of sandpaper. He was leering at the glass that laid solemnly on the floor, its very short and now very pointy life at an end. Slowly, pressure began building somewhere deep inside his skull and Sesshomaru covered one hand over his eyes, trying to drown out the world and the static inside his mind.

Attempting to prioritize what must be done to allow the day to run smoothly, Sesshomaru considered his options, though he already had a foreshadowing that the day...was not going to go well, no matter how freaking awesome he totally was.

And he had to be. Superman had nothing on his organizational skills.

Well, he liked to imagine so, anyway...

Cracking open his lids in the slightest, he continually stared at the broken glass, taking in the heavy breathing sounds of his companions at the table, and the electrical silence of the TV. The fluorescents of the kitchen gleamed off the acute ridges, shining softly like plastic in the afternoon sun. His mind faded to a memory, sharp and clear and distant and muted, of a time when his family was whole and there wasn't this cement weight on his shoulders.

Somewhere, it echoed, his father's laughter, and Izayoi's quiet smile, and his brother yelling for him, running across the grass of the park...

Aniki!

...And just like that, it retreated from his mind like a nostalgic breeze. He squinted at the glass that laid placidly on the floor, a euphemism of the turmoil washing against the shores of his mind. Sighing thoroughly, sure he had had enough analogy for the day, he pushed his chair away from the table. His previously ravenous appetite had now completely evaporated.

Making his way to the trash can, he watched his shoe clad toes press against the lever near the floor to lift the lid, dumping whatever had been left on his plate. He always felt ungrateful to waste food, but his stomach might revolt violently against whatever he ingested, and he decided he had enough troubles without having a helpful serving of nausea.

His brain somersaulted, trying to place the right words, the right actions, and squish them together into something vaguely coherent.

Unfortunately, it was failing.

Clearing his throat, he turned toward the younger members of the table, both who appeared to be somewhat hyperventilating.

The last thing he needed on top of this puzzling riddle was two children with emotional breakdowns.

Rolling his eyes, with much more restraint than he felt the situation probably deserved, he announced clearly and loudly, "As there is nothing we could possibly do at this moment, I suggest you both finish your meals and get on with the day for now..." his eyes, he felt them slide of their own accord to his watch, the numbers blurred from his inattention... more for show and a moment to pull the reins on his mind that went a million miles a minute. “...I have to go to the office. While I might like to take a hiatus from my life, unfortunately that would result in a lack of an occupation... So I have to at least make an appearance. Please, try not to wreck my house more than necessary today."

His words commanded more conviction than he felt. Believe me, he begged them silently, because right now he didn't feel the strength that flowed so easily from his mouth.

Luckily, being a lawyer taught him how to lie fantastically.

He tapped his foot twice, staring vacantly at the wall for a moment to gather himself, and then turned on his heel and headed for the front door. The soft thud of his shoes on the floor broke Sango from her trance, her eyes blinking harshly at his retreating back.

Their source of stability.

Standing suddenly enough to cause her chair to fall to the floor, she gripped the edges of the small table to the point her knuckles went white, as if trying to steady herself.

"Please, wait, Sesshomaru," her soft plea reached him, keeping him halted in mid stride, as he waited to hear her.

She glanced back at the television in uncertainty, the bright and cheerful faces of the news reporters not belonging in a world that had gone suddenly so dim.

...It was as if someone pulled a blanket of clouds over the sun, quieting the light but not shutting it completely out.

What had she wanted to say?

What was she expecting him to do?

"I..." her words stumbled inside her mouth, having no real direction to go.

...She could only voice them in one way.

"...Please stay. Please."

Sesshomaru's shoulders lowered a fraction, as if in defeat, as if in exasperation... Sango was not sure. Then just as quickly they tensed back up, and Sesshomaru pinned her with midnight orbs that were as sharp as a Katana. Her breath hitched in her throat, unused to seeing the more piercing part of him speak through his eyes.

"And that would accomplish what?"

It wasn't meant to be cruel, but the words sliced her. It was an undertone of blunt honesty, a point to be made.

She felt Miroku cover her hand with his softly, but he remained silent.

And so did she.

She had nothing to say to that.

It was just for comfort, but there is no luxury like that for us.

The harsh light faded from Sesshomaru's eyes and he slid them close quietly, breathing in deeply from his nose. She wouldn't have known if she hadn't seen his nostrils flare so long, and his chest expand with a calming motion.

Or, what she assumed was meant to be calming.

When he opened his eyes once more, they were blank, as if she were looking into a mirror.

"Here..." he spoke quietly, reaching inside his suit's jacket and pulling out a small card. A business card.

"This is my business phone number and my office number..." he mumbled in a distinctly low voice, as if he was unsure about what he was doing. Sango felt a brow quirk, but nothing more.

His actions were fluid, as if he did not think about them. Against the back of his cell he wrote with a silver pen, and then passed the card to her pinned between two fingers.

"If there is anything either of you need, please call. I will feign illness and return home," he mumbled, so uncharacteristic, and Sango's brows lowered at his tone of voice. He turned away once more, heading toward the door before he stopped momentarily as if he remembered something.

Quickly, he shot them both a look over his shoulders and said strongly: "And make sure it's a fucking good reason, please," before he continued to stroll out the door, taking leave of them both.

Unconsciously, the death grip Sango had on the victimized table released, and she sat heavily on the chair to her left. Her eyes drifted slowly down to the card in her hand, crisp white and numbers written neatly on the back of it. Turning it to the front, Sango studied the sharp text letters that plastered the front like a fake smile. The company name laid out across the front, and in smaller print Sesshomaru's name was there.

Sesshomaru's job. His life. His bills. His house. His car. His money. His responsibilities.

On the back, numbers varying in sizes, imperfect and real.

Like a double sided coin, both sides of his life.

They could stop. They could not go to school, pretend like they didn't care about their other responsibilities in life. They could concentrate on things that tore them to pieces, fraying at their hearts. But he had nothing and no one, and the epiphany brought Sango to sudden tears.

Miroku, who had been studying her face intently, watched it darken with the passing minutes. He was taken aback by her sudden outburst, flinching at her unexpected crying.

"Sango, what's wrong?!" he grabbed her arms gently and pulled her to him, surprised beyond reason. Why would that business card make her so upset?

But Sango simply shook her head in the negative, sniffling. She was unable to voice her revelation, as if it were too personal, or too private. How could they not think of him, too, who was so equally affected by their problems?

...If not more, he who had to care for the four of them, and did so without verbal complaint.

Instead she inhaled deeply, pressing her soaked face against Miroku's shoulder, allowing him to comfort the ghost of a reason for her pain without knowing why.

The sympathy she felt for the man who had saved them all was deep, and she knew to keep it to herself.

For if he wanted it to be known, the sacrifices he had made for them, he would have said something to Inuyasha a long time ago.






"Kagome."

She wasn't answering him.

Still.

"...Kagome..."

She wished he would just give up already. She was currently very busy trying her best to be in denial.

"...Kagome."

She tried even harder to wedge her head underneath his pillow. Maybe then she could drown his stupidly wonderful, annoyingly concerned voice out.

He had even tried to pinch her ass, just for a reaction.

Albeit, it wasn't working. She was the Queen of Ignoring All That Was Awful. It was a talent she had meticulously developed over the years.

Unfortunately, apparently it didn't work on nice things.

Like Inuyasha.

He was harder to ignore than she cared to admit.

"...Come on, Kagome."

But hell, as long as he thought she was ignoring him, maybe it would work.

"Ka.Go.Me..."

Maybe.

Sighing miserably, trying to force back the wave of tears that threatened to wash over her face, she tried her best to hide inside his little hospital cot-wannabe bed. She was tired of crying.

She wished she could go back home, if only she could drive.

If only she didn't want to be near Inuyasha so much.

"Kagome."

She was tired of crying.

She didn't wanna talk about it.

But, obviously, he wouldn't let it go.

So, she muttered to him, inquiring him of his frustrating repetition and apparent obsession with her name.

"What."

She hoped he'd get the point, but of course he wouldn't.

Infuriatingly stubborn man.

"We need to talk about this."

"No, thank you, we don't."

"I wasn't asking you over for afternoon tea, Kagome. I'm telling you we're talking about this."

Kagome slammed her fists against his sheets, shoving herself up to face him with anger written blatantly across her features.

"No, you know what, we're not. We can talk about this any other time, but right now I don't wanna fucking think about a dead body that might be our fault. That's not something my brain wants to consider right now. It wants a vacation, and personally, I'm inclined to give it one. It deserves a break," she snapped indignantly at him, pulling away from his grasp and out of his bed.

He reached ineffectually for her, his face set in a grimace as she paced inside the small room.

"Kagome... we're running out of time..."

She gave Inuyasha a look of tolerant exasperation, frustration glinting in her crystal irises.

"Don't you think I fucking know that already? Kami-sama, Inuyasha, you think I'm a fucking idiot or something?"

His skin paled, the stress told plainly on his face as his lips thinned as he stared hard at her. Her hands were planted in undetermined defiance, her fingers twitching nervously, and he could read her like an open book.

"...Kags..."

One of her shaking hands flew to her hair, grabbing her unruly locks in aggravation.

"Drop it! I have to get out of here for a little, Inu, I'll bring you back a soda and a burger." She whirled around on her foot and ripped open the door like hell was chasing her feet, closing it quietly behind her with much less furor.

Inuyasha sighed deeply, resigning himself to being unable to do much of anything. If she was unwilling to listen to reason, he certainly couldn't go chasing her. Instead, all he could do is roll over, pulling the sheets around him self-consciously.

...and dwell inside his head, searching for the secret meanings and answers that he wasn't sure he could find.



Fucking pain in the ass needs to give me some space... she cursed Inuyasha inside the confines of her mind, glaring icily at the ground as if it had done something unforgivably horrendous to her. Sure, she was sure it didn't mean it.

Possibly.

And certainly wouldn't do it again.

Maybe.

But that wasn't the way of the world.

The real world sat on you, laughed at you, punched you in the face and then kicked you in the ribs for good measure. The real world took the small guy, spat on him, took away his family, his life, and then people wondered when something so good would turn so sour.

Like bad milk.

There's no use crying over spilled milk, Kagome...

She could hear her father's lightly scolding voice echoing quietly in her mind, a haunting spectre of what he expected her to be...

Be stronger.

Be tougher.

Don't cry.

Don't...

She felt an eyebrow twitch.

The sheen that covered her eyes, making the world slightly more watery... she didn't give it permission to be that way.

Instead, she rubbed the back of her hand against her face, taking away whatever evidence of her upset laid there. She was just done. She couldn't do this anymore...

After...what had happened to Inuyasha...

...after what happened to Inuyasha...

She felt a shuddering sigh release from her mouth without much thought. Laying a delicate, coarse hand against the wall, she leaned into it for support.

...Her legs felt weak.

...Her head was pounding.

But... he's right.

Kagome was out of time.

Did I ever have enough time to begin with?

Enough time for what, exactly, she wondered. Enough time to right the wrongs done to her?

Can it ever be better...

Enough time to get back the Shikon no Tama? Enough time to ever realize it had been with her all along, that she was meant to do something with her life more than be a pawn in this sick game called her life? She wasn't even sure there had been an hourglass somewhere, ticking away the seconds on grains of sand that fell away, that she couldn't stop and hadn't ever even seen.

Never even had a chance to try...

Who made there be a timeframe? Who could she blame, this time?

...but me...

Another shuddering sigh came from her tiers, and she shut her eyes tightly, pinching the bridge of her nose to coax back the pressure that was settling there. Shaking her head gently, she straightened her back, and willed herself to remain strong.

Inuyasha...

He got to her for her weakness. She couldn't protect him, she couldn't protect herself, and she was supposed to kill the inhumane creature who had harmed him.

What could she do, when she had already tried and failed?

She allowed her fist to lightly beat against the wall with a quiet thud, thud, thud... as patients, nurses, doctors all walked past without baring her a glance. People in distress inside a hospital, in pain, was not an uncommon sight to see.

She was invisble in the middle of a crowd of people.

And surrounded by them, she felt as cold and lonely as she could be amongst the mass of people who walked around without another thought in the world except their own problems...



"T...Taisho-san? Taisho-san, please, wait for me!" the somewhat clumsy, awkward young secretary clutched manilla folders to her chest, tripping around her desk in an effort to catch up with him the minute he entered the building. He felt grimy, irritable, and exhausted. His short temper could probably not handle Hitomi's overly genial, slightly klutzy attitude.

Her persona was like bright lights in the midst of a pounding migraine.

So he opted to ignore her and continued strolling along, sure that she would drop the folders-if they had any amount of importance- in the drop box right outside his office door.

"P-please Taisho-san," she requested breathlessly, attempting to keep up with his long strides with difficulty as she was a naturally small woman, "Wait for me!"

His mind wandered as he continually ignored Hitomi's pleas, once again returning to the unsettling train of thought that had preoccupied him from the moment he heard the news speak the name.

Shiroi Onigumo. Dead. Dead. Impaled. Disembowled. Slaughtered. Seventeen. This morning. Dead.

He figured this was not the most relaxing way to pass the time... but he couldn't understand it, couldn't place why...

It didn't make sense.

What does it mean?

He stopped in the middle of his path that lead toward the elevator, taking a moment to seriously attempt to consider the meaning. But not knowing more of Onigumo, and his relation to the demon he had banished... he would have to inquire the children, there was no other way he could settle it.

Especially Kagome...

A soft, pliant body crashed into his back. One that promptly fell backward on her rear, and let out a string of mumbled complaints.

Turning around, Sesshomaru gazed down at the dazed secretary who looked just about ready to throw herself off a building. Repressing an amused chuckle that threatened to break free, Sesshomaru cleared his throat and kneeled before her to assist in helping her gather the papers that had littered themselves all over the floor. He heard small sniffles being issued from the young woman, as she scrambled to make herself useful, gathering the things she had meant to give to her superior up in a mess of disorganized cases.

With a moment of thought, Sesshomaru glared at what now appeared to be a mountain of confused information gathered in her arms. Hitomi was momentarily looking down dismally at them.

He sighed softly.

He knew they were meant for him, and though she was good at organizing the proper information like she had been trained to and even marked things to his specific expectations-an extra step he had inquired of her, and not something she had been paid to do- she was not naturally inclined to be able to do these things well.

So it was easy to say that what she held in her arms were hours of her aggravating work lying in now disorganized ruin-all thanks to him. Sure, other people had knocked her down in such ways, it really was not so hard. But they always expected her to redo what mess they had caused, and currently Sesshomaru did not have the heart to do it to her.

Sure, it meant more of a headache for him, but who knew. Maybe if he could fix at least one thing, it might be some sort of stress relief for him.

"Come, Hitomi, we shall place that on my desk and I shall fix it later," he said to her, and she lifted wide, disbelieving and tear filled eyes to him.

"...really?"

Sesshomaru snorted, "I guess if you really want to do it, I will let you." He knew she wouldn't realize he was teasing her. It was also oh, so easy to, really... And she trembled, her lips quivering in such a way he felt bad for the stress he caused her.

...almost.

"I...I mean...Taisho-san..."

He merely chuckled, shaking his head.

"I'm not being serious, Hitomi. Come."

And he lead his way away from her, not missing the way relief made her posture slack. Pressing a single button with his fingers, he watched as the elevator door lit up numbers of the accomodating floor it was on.

Blinking somewhat, a thought occurred to him.

"...Hitomi, I will reorganize all of the paperwork if you do one thing for me."

A curious, shock filled face turned to look up at him in inquiry.

"A boy died this morning, Shiroi Onigumo, and I wish to pay homage to his memorial. Can you please find me information on him and his family?"

The lie fell naturally from his mouth, and Hitomi stared up at him in admiration for his false kindness.

"Of course, Taisho-san, in whatever way I can accommodate you it would certainly be my pleasure!" she bowed to him, following him inside the elevator. He snorted softly, muttering more to himself than anyone else...

"Indeed."








< i>A/n: I hope that was at least somewhat worth the wait. Probably not, it seems more like a filler, but I reread it three times. I proofread it more than once, to make sure I liked it. Zomg, the world has ended! Please enjoy it and review, I miss you guys.