InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Stealing Heaven ❯ Moments of 'If Only' ( Chapter 18 )

Chapter Eighteen

Moments of 'If Only...'

Sundays usually found Kagome at her family home. Like so many other college kids it served the purpose of having her laundry washed and getting a good, home-cooked meal, but for her it was also an excuse to keep an eye on her little brother's grades and check in on her aging grandfather without the sweet old fuss-budget realizing it. Then there was also catching up with her mother, who'd always been more like an older, possibly overprotective, friend than a parent-figure. This particular Sunday however, she felt nearly as though she was cheating her family, having simply dashed into the house and thrown her laundry into the wash before darting up the stairs to her room to rifle through her drawers and find articles of clothing she hadn't worn in so long it would be like they were brand new, all over again.

She turned in front of the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time as she smoothed her hands over the outfit she'd put together; peered at the reflection of her face and gently rubbed her fingers over the dark circles beneath her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time. Her dark green, off-the-shoulder sweater- the sleeves of which were so long the cuffs trailed down over her knuckles, a look she adored- was perfect. The pleated black skirt she was wearing was perfect. Even the pristine white knee-high stockings, soon to be accompanied by a pair of polished black boots that rose to mid-calf currently waiting for her beside the front door, were perfect. She was even having an absolutely perfect hair day . . . .

But these bags under her eyes would be her undoing.

She could hardly blame herself, though. Every night for the last four days she'd had trouble falling asleep, mind numb with the trepidation that once she did Lyka would find her and try, again, to take her over. And that if it happened when she was in that vulnerable, unguarded state, than Lyka would succeed. Giving a sharp shake of her head, Kagome forcefully banished those thoughts- surely if getting to her was so easy, that troublesome specter would have done it already. Unless Lyka could, but simply didn't know how . . . yet.

That notion was nearly enough to make Kagome's stomach roil. Hadn't she learned enough as of late that there was a drastic difference between simply not possessing a particular capability and having the capability, but lacking the knowledge of how to apply it?

"Hey," her mother said as she poked her head through the door, giving Kagome a start, "do you have a date? Why didn't you say anything?"

"Huh?" Kagome blinked rapidly a few times, blue eyes flicking from her mother's curious face to her own reflection and back again.

The realization of how this moment must look forced her to stand bolt-upright, eyes going wide for a second. She was behaving like she was going on a date and she understood instantly that- despite how tiresome and wearing her week had been- she was acting this way because she was meeting Professor Taisho outside of school. Swallowing a hard gulp as she rolled her eyes at her own naivete, Kagome gave another shake of her head.

Frowning at her reflection, she replied finally, "Um, no, I don't have a date, just . . . meeting Sango and some of our old friends from high school at the mall in a little while," she hated lying to her own mother, but it was spit out the long-rehearsed fib or give her mother a heart attack by making the poor woman think her daughter was secretly dating one of her college professors.

Scandal tended not to go over very well with parents.

"Oh," instantly her mother's sparkling grin faded and Kagome wanted to kick herself- she was still young, but she knew her mother was already waiting for the day she'd bring a nice, respectable young man home to meet her family. "Well, still, you should have said something."

Nodding, Kagome dropped her gaze to the floor, hoping she looked appropriately abashed- even if she didn't quite, she did feel it and thought that should count for something. "I know, momma, I'm sorry, I've just been distracted by school lately."

When she raised her eyes once more to meet her mother's she felt an immediate upwelling of childlike nervousness that the woman's face had rather suddenly lit up again. "Distracted by school? My girl who breezes through research papers and exams practically with her eyes closed?" Folding her arms under her breasts, Mrs. Higurashi rested a hip against the door frame. "This wouldn't by any chance happen to be a male-related turn of events, would it?"

Despite her fear-wrecked sleep pattern, Kagome couldn't help breaking into a shy smile at the thought of how very pleasant it would be if she was only distracted by taboo day dreams. "It . . . just might be." "Uh-huh, and does this 'just might be' have a name?"

"I'd rather not name names, he's uh . . . kind of the quiet type, so I really don't know if he even thinks of me the way I think of him." Alright, so that one bordered on a bold-faced lie, but Kagome justified it, inwardly, by insisting to herself that Professor Taisho possibly had leashed such thoughts so tightly since they'd returned to their normal lives that he might have forced himself to forget he'd thought that way at all.

That idea bothered her deeply and she shoved it aside. The last thing she needed right now would be to worry about something that still couldn't be a reality.

"Ah, I see," her mother gave a knowing smile at that and nodded, pushing away from the door frame and dropping her arms. "Well, I'll let you finish getting ready, then. I'll just wrap up your helpings so you can take them back to the dorm tonight."

"Thanks, momma," Kagome called as her mother turned on a heel to disappear down the hall.

Holding in a sigh, she faced her reflection one final time. Brushing the tips of her fingers beneath her eyes again she pursed her lips for a long moment before blindly rifling through a drawer in the dresser beside the mirror to fish out a tube of wine matte lipstick. She'd never been one much for makeup, so concealer was out of the question, but she thought perhaps if she drew attention away from her eyes that alone might make the circles under them less noticeable. Once it was perfectly applied, she stashed the tube, her wallet, keys, cell phone and a small compact mirror into one of the only girly-purses she owned and headed out of her room. Hitting the foot of the staircase she rounded the entrance to the family room almost automatically before halting and backpedaling a step or two. Around the bend of the entryway she saw her grandfather tending to her father's small, in-home shrine.

For a few silent seconds, she could only watch the tiny old man- who never let anyone else tend to the task of its upkeep as he refused to let the littlest thing go wrong with the tribute to his beloved son-in-law. She wished she could have simply gone to him about all this, but . . . the trembling of his wrinkled, pudgy fingers as he positioned the incense sticks, the way his small, stooped shoulders hunched as he held in what she knew would be a rasping cough, only reinforced for her the need to shield him from such a taxing knowledge.

"Kagome?" He said quietly, as though he'd known she'd been there all the while- and she had very little doubt that he hadn't.

"Yes gran'pa?" she asked, stepping into the room and forcing a bright smile.

"Did you need something?" He turned on his heel to face her, raising his wide aged face upward toward her.

"Um n- . . . ." Kagome's voice trailed off as he broke into a short burst of coughing and she stepped forward, only to stop when he held a hand up. "No," she said when the fit had subsided, fighting to keep her smile in place, "I just wanted to say I love you."

The old man came up to her then, lifting his fingers to touch her cheek lightly. "My little girl, I love you, too. Are you alright?"

"Yes, gran'pa."

"Then you should go. Your friends won't wait forever."

She nodded, dropping a kiss on his forehead before stepping back from him to let him return to his task. Once out of the family room, Kagome gave herself a quick shake as she sniffled a little. Sometimes she couldn't help wondering if his painstaking upkeep was intended as a reminder that when he died he wanted his example followed with his own shrine.

But that was just another thing she really didn't want to think about right now- or ever, in fact. Finally letting out that sigh, she looked herself over one last time, smoothing her hands over her clothes again and proceeded out of the house to where she knew Sango was probably already waiting in the driver's seat of Miroku's borrowed car.

* * *

"You didn't have to do this you know," Kagome said for perhaps the fifth time during their drive to the address Professor Taisho had provided. "I could have called a cab."

"This is true," Sango agreed with a nod before turning a soured expression on her friend, "but then it would seem like I'm stalking you 'cause I'd have come down here anyway to be waiting at one of those rundown little teashops around the block with my cell at the ready in case you need me."

Sitting back against her seat Kagome only looked at her for a moment. "You're a really good friend, Sans. Remind me what I did to deserve that?"

"You let me cheat off you that first day I transferred to your high school 'cause you saw the teachers trying to make me miserable by using me to prove that 'other schools' weren't up to their standards?"

Blue eyes rolled upward briefly. "Was that it? Huh, all this time I thought they were just being mean."

"And look at me now- getting the awesome grades all on my own."

Kagome put a hand over her heart, feigning a weepy expression. "My little delinquent, all grown up."

Snickering a little, Sango reached out and smooshed Kagome's face, carefully- if strangely- avoiding smearing her lipstick. "Get out of here, Mystica- go talk to the ether or some junk. Oh, and I wasn't kidding- totally waiting by the phone in case you need me."

"I know . . . okay, I'm . . . I'm going. Right now . . . ." Despite her words, it still took Kagome a few seconds to unbuckle her seat belt and get out of the car.

Putting a little more determination than she actually felt she had into her steps, Kagome approached the front doors of the antiquated apartment building as Sango pulled away from the curb. Though the wide panes of glass that surrounded the entrance were dusty and looked like they were covered with some sort of film that was probably the accumulation of decades of less than adequate washings, the doors were clear and through them she could already see a tall, broad-shouldered man with long silver hair. Before actually placing her hand on one of the tarnished, once gold-plated handles she did a quick double-take to be certain his hair was tied back. Odd that after all this it was still the only indicator that the professor wasn't . . . feeling quite like himself.

At last she pulled open the door and stepped in, not surprised when he turned instantly to face the sound. Very quickly she darted her gaze about. There was no doorman- not unusual with these older buildings- only a row of mailboxes and bells with names scribbled on weathered bits of paper beneath them, some rickety folding chairs and a noticeably dehydrated potted plant to serve as a make-shift sitting area, she supposed. When she brought her eyes to Professor Taisho, finally, it was to find him staring at her. And not just staring at her- she noted with the buzz of giddy butterflies starting to wing around in her stomach- but trying, only somewhat successfully, to give her a once-over without making it obvious that he was doing so.

Sadly, she was doing the very same, though she cringed inwardly to think of how blatant her attempt likely seemed in comparison. He was clad very casually in a dark gray turtleneck and crisp, perfectly pressed khakis which seemed to only emphasize how long his legs were, just as the shirt- closely fitted without being tight- hinted at the lean, sculpted musculature of his chest, torso and arms. Certainly casual, right down to his simple, tan shoes, yet different from the dress slacks and pale button downs he wore on campus. Oddly, she thought he almost looked as though he was . . . .

Dressed for a date.

"Higurashi," he said at last, bringing her out of her reverie. "You look very . . . . nice."

Pretending as though she didn't know what he was talking about- no matter what had happened, or nearly happened, between them, she couldn't let him think she'd dressed like this for meeting him- she quickly looked down at herself and then back up again. He could think it, she just couldn't pave the way.

"I suppose this is a step up from dusty jungle fatigues and dirt smudges everywhere, huh?"

He shook his head. "I didn't mean . . . . I'm sorry, did this take you away from some . . . thing else?"

Kagome thought she spotted the minute flaring of anger as he nearly asked if she was meeting someone else. Perhaps he'd not forced himself to forget, after all. "No, not at all, why do you ask?"

Cracking the faintest hint of a smirk Professor Taisho offered a barely perceptible shrug. "You don't usually dress like this for classes, now do you?"

"Clearly you expect me to look the part of the studious book worm every minute of every day." She couldn't help smiling herself as that subsiding flicker of- what she dared to hope was still territorial- anger was replaced by a faint glimpse of sheepish self-deprecation. "And I could say the same for you. You also look . . . very nice. Do you have a date or something?"

Amazingly- at least amazingly to her, as she'd never seen him avert his gaze from anyone while speaking to them unless the focus of the discussion was another thing entirely- he dropped his eyes to the floor, holding that ghost of a barely there smirk in place. "No, but then I suppose a prearranged meeting with a young woman I seem to have a spectacular rapport with in a strange building wouldn't count in that regard."

For a moment she was almost at a loss of how to process that eloquent verbal hinting. He was nudging her in a direction- edging her toward reminding him that this was a path they couldn't traverse. He wanted her to tell him that this couldn't count. She almost didn't want to . . . in this isolated moment, in this little old hovel of a lobby . . . she was standing with Taisho Sesshomaru.

"No," she replied, and although she was indeed saying what he needed her to say, when he raised his gaze to hers finally, she let him see her smile falter, hoping he understood that though it was needed it wasn't what she wanted to say, "it wouldn't."

He nodded briefly before turning back toward the row of bells and pressing one. For a long moment it was silent, leaving Kagome to fidget nervously behind him in the wake of yet another what-if scenario that had taken place between them before they heard the crackle and static of the ancient intercom coming to life.

"WHAT?" A crotchety old voice demanded suddenly causing her to nearly jump out of her skin.

Professor Taisho- oddly, she thought, as this man was clearly his elder, and someone he was seeking aid from- assumed a tone a fraction more authoritative than that which he normally used in the classroom and all but bark into the tiny speaker. "How dare you speak to me in such a manner, old man!"

Wide blue eyes leaped frantically from the intercom to the professor and back again as a long pause followed, but she felt an instant wash of relief when the reply finally came back. "Oh, Sesshomaru, I'll be right there."

Glancing over his shoulder at her, Professor Taisho gave a minute shrug. "I suppose I don't have to warn you that the little guy can be a handful."

"Little guy?" she echoed, her brows shooting up into her bangs.

Another shrug as he held his hand up, giving an approximation of the gentleman's height. Kagome couldn't help scowling as she noticed that it was a few inches over her own head.

Looking pointedly at his hand, she kept the scowl in place as she dragged her gaze to meet his. ". . . That's little?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but paused as he gave a sort of nod. "I suppose I could attempt to soothe your pride by saying that many people I know are 'little' in comparison to my height?"

She folded her arms under her breasts, letting the scowl fade to a slightly darkened frown. "But you aren't going to, are you?"

Slipping his hands into his pockets- managing to achieve an oddly graceful slouch with very little effort- he offered a minute shake of his head. "No. Are you alright, by the way? You look a little tired."

"Oh," she said- the sidetrack stopping her from angrily, if childishly, stamping a foot at him- taking a second to realize she'd completely forgotten about the circles under her eyes. "Yes, it's just . . ." the next words caused a little jab in her chest, they were partly true, but she wished, very much, that they weren't, "my grandfather."

He turned his face a little more fully toward her- the gesture meant to let her know that she had his complete attention and she understood that. "Is he alright?"

"Yes," she said quickly. "For the time being, anyway. He has problems with his lungs. If it's alright, I don't really want to talk about it."

She thought she could see a brief struggle playing out behind his eyes between feeling disappointed that she was reluctant to talk about it and understanding that her reluctance likely had nothing to do with him. "Of course, Higurashi."

The electronic buzzing of the inner door being opened met their ears, drawing their attention away from what bordered on becoming another personal moment between them. She looked toward the entryway to see a thin, old man in a threadbare, but immaculately cared for yukata stepping out. His face looked strangely wide set on such a wispy frame and his nose appeared so long and sharp as he turned his head to regard Professor Taisho that she thought she might be in danger at some point of getting an eye poked out by it.

"Sesshomaru," the old man warbled after holding the younger man's gaze for the creeping passage of a long, silent moment. "You've been through some adventures lately, haven't you?"

The professor gave an almost respectful, if markedly brief, bow. "No more than my usual shenanigans, old friend."

"Hmph," the little man grumbled, turning his beady gaze on Kagome, "you notice how he puts the emphasis on 'old' rather than 'friend'- as though I need a reminder?"

Kagome only gaped at him until she was nudged into motion by Professor Taisho's words, bowing deeply and respectfully, as he said, "Myoga, this is Higurashi Kagome. I trust I can leave her in your capable hands."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Myoga."

Myoga hmphed at them again. "At least your girlfriend has some manners."

This sparked a moment of sputtering on Kagome's part, and some confused semi-glaring on the professor's, but instantly the old man was waving a dismissive hand at them before turning away to start pulling the door open. "Tsh, tsh- I know that isn't the case with you two. Don't begrudge an old man a moment of amusement at your expense. Come along, Kagome- and none of that 'Mister' stuff!"

She could only watch after him for a second before turning helpless eyes on Professor Taisho. He was handing her off to someone that might well be the kookiest old man in their hemisphere! The professor gave a reassuring nod and reached out to catch the door, holding it open for her. "You'll be fine, now get in there. He may not look it, but he's quick and you will get lost in this building."

Forcing a gulp down her throat at the thought of wandering around the antiquated old place, likely with spirits all its own, she rushed forward, briefly- as she'd almost forgotten- spinning on her heel once inside to face Professor Taisho. "Thank you, professor."

"You're welcome, Higurashi," he replied as he released the door to let it swing slowly closed.

Turning around again to find Myoga she spotted his sprite-like form at the end of the poorly lit corridor.

"C'mon, c'mon," he called as he pushed open a door.

"Yes, Mist- . . . Myoga," she called back, jogging lightly after him.

He waited patiently inside the doorway for her to follow him in and remove her boots. She closed the door behind her and turned to peer into the small, sparsely furnished space through hanging, puffy clouds of some sort of incense. Unless it wasn't incense and the hold man was kooky for another reason entirely.

"So," the wizened old figure said over his shoulder as she followed him into what was apparently the living area, "first we will talk about you and find out just how much assistance your require in honing your 'sight' and then you will tell me exactly what's wrong with my young friend Sesshomaru."

Kagome blinked rapidly, nearly tripping over her own two feet as he turned to face her. "Ex- excuse me?"

"There's a dark influence around him and I can tell that this is not news to you. You're going to tell me what you know so we can work to lift this burden from him."

She could only stare back at him for a long moment, not certain if she should feel relieved that he'd taken the decision about how much she could tell him out of her hands entirely or if she should be terrified that anyone could glean so much with a simple look.

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