InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Stealing Heaven ❯ Closing Distance ( Chapter 23 )

Chapter Twenty-Three

Closing Distance

When she'd lifted her gaze to find someone other than Professor Taisho step up before the class and proceed to take the helm, Sango felt she should have realized where he was. Even so, she couldn't help the tiny, startled double-take she did upon seeing the tall, silver-haired man seated comfortably on the Higurashi's living room sofa as Kagome led her and Miroku into the house.

For a moment, she'd nearly forgotten that Miroku knew of Kagome and Professor Taisho's affair and had almost slipped, had almost made a comment to let out some of her surprise over Miroku's lack of shock at finding his boss here. Quickly enough she was able to remind herself that he was under they impression that they were involved in an actual relationship, so, knowing the honorable sort of man Taisho Sesshomaru was meant that he wouldn't be anywhere else on this day, even if it had meant having to fabricate a truth for the benefit of the rest of the faculty.

She held in a laugh when she realized . . . it seemed the only one in the room who was unaware of the events in Professor Taisho's private life was Professor Taisho.

There was a moment of the four simply existing in the living room, looking around somewhat awkwardly at one another before Kagome flashed the men a polite, if weak and perhaps even a bit shaky, grin as she grabbed Sango's wrist. "Would you both kindly excuse us for a moment?"

Before either Miroku or Professor Taisho could nod, Kagome was bolting up the stairs and dragging a markedly confused-looking Sango behind her. In their sudden absence, the room seemed even more silent if that were possible. It was in a stilted and unwilling unison that they turned their heads to regard each other. They'd spoken many times, of course, but this informal setting, outside of work . . . outside of the perimeters in which they were accustomed to dealing with one another made it seem that they were virtually strangers.

A few seconds of that strained silence passed before Miroku- at the same moment that the professor quirked a silver brow at him- gave a vague shrug.

* * *

Once Kagome had her bedroom door closed Sango clamped her hands over the girl's shoulders and spun her around. "What? What's wrong? Did something happen? Are you ok-"

She blinked rapidly a few times, registering almost dimly that her words had been cut off by Kagome's hand slapping over her mouth.

Blue eyes narrowed as Kagome whispered, "I am going to tell you something that you cannot breathe to another soul for possibly years to come, is that perfectly clear?"

Sango nodded slowly and Kagome let her hand slip away, instead cupping it against her friend's ear- afraid that somehow, someone might overhear- and leaned close, relating in a murmur that was barely even a thread of sound the soul-baring discussion she'd had with Professor Taisho Sesshomaru.

* * *

Miroku and the professor both gave a start, their attention immediately shooting to the ceiling as a female shout of joy and what was very likely triumph sounded for the room above them. Miroku simply gave another shrug, scratching his head.

"Women, huh?" he managed with an awkward chuckle.

Sesshomaru glanced at him only briefly before raising his eyes once more, staring as though he was hoping to burn holes through the ceiling and peer in on just what was happening up there. "So you have no idea what that ruckus is about?"

Miroku puffed out his cheeks, letting a breath slip out from between his lips as he slid his hands into his pockets. "It sounds like . . . somebody got good news. That's about as well as I can translate Chick from this distance."

His gaze lowered to his assistant again, for a moment considering the young man in a different light than their interaction normally allowed. Taisho Sesshomaru allowed the humorous comment to get a chuckle out of him, allowed a faint half-grin to grace his lips. Apparently this was a frightening spectacle to Miroku who only blinked at him.

"I can smile, Miroku," he muttered levelly.

Miroku's head bobbed slowly in an uncertain nod. "I knew you had the ability to . . . I just don't think I've ever seen you do it before."

* * *

Sango and Kagome sat on their knees, Miroku, Professor Taisho and Souta cross-legged around the low table as Mrs. Higurashi bustled about, setting this dish or that in the center. The house did, of course, also have a more modern, Western-style dinner table, but having so many guests, and as a tribute to her father's passing, Mrs. Higurashi had insisted on dining in a more traditional manner.

It seemed as though the day had taken forever to pass, but finally they had made it to this moment, and all hoped that dinner would prove to be a relatively painless event. At last Kagome's mother took her seat, and the guests gave a formal phrasing, acknowledging that they were receiving this meal from their host.

The family waited until the guests had served themselves before taking any food from the dishes and suddenly Mrs. Higurashi was chatting up a storm, to seemingly everyone and yet at the same time to no one in particular. Which dish had been her father's favorite, which had been his least liked, though it saddened her to think on such things, she could now prepare some of her favorite foods for which he'd never much cared. She mentioned how she and Souta would likely alternate the duty of preparing the shrines each morning . . . and then said something that left Kagome slack-jawed.

"Wait . . . momma what did you just say?"

Mrs. Higurashi shrugged, her eyes staring unblinkingly downward into her rice. "I said . . . now that it's just Souta and me, we are going to move to someplace smaller."

Blue eyes shot from her mother to her brother- who wouldn't meet her gaze, which could only mean he already knew about this- and back again. "Momma, you can't sell this house."

Her mother looked up instantly. "What? Oh, no, Kagome . . ." setting down her chopsticks, she reached across the table to gently pat her daughter's hand. "It will be difficult, but I'm not going to sell the house. I never intended that."

Kagome exchanged a quick, confused glance with Sango. "What, then?"

"This house is going to become yours" The older woman raised a delicate hand, waving between herself and her son, "We don't need so much space . . . and you are the eldest child, so once you graduate and will no longer be living on campus this will still be your home. I think this is something your grandfather would have wanted."

"We talked about gran'pa's wishes for the future yesterday," in keeping with their traditions as a family of shrine priests, the deceased's hopes for the future were discussed within the first twenty-four hours of the departed's passing. "You never mentioned this."

Mrs. Higurashi shook her head, "I did, actually . . . I just didn't mention it to you because I knew you'd make a fuss."

"Make a fuss? You thought I'd make a fuss?" Though she was speaking quietly, it was painfully clear that Kagome was struggling with the tight rein she'd been keeping on her temper- she didn't want to seem unreasonable, but this was a complete blindside.

Mrs. Higurashi lowered her gaze back to her food and pulled her hand back, again picking up her chopsticks. "Kagome, please, we have guests."

Kagome opened her mouth to respond, only to snap it shut again, dropping her gaze, as well as she picked at a bit of baked seafood- she hadn't quite taken Myoga's vegetarian guidelines to heart just yet, too much had happened recently to trouble herself over such a miniscule aspect. "I just think," she muttered evenly, "you should have told me is all."

Her mother looked up then, smiling sadly. "I'm sorry that I didn't."

It was silent for a moment before she was piping up again. "Professor Taisho, what do you think of the dumplings?"

Silver eyebrows inched fractionally upward, wary about being used as a distraction. "They're quite delicious."

"Aren't they?" It was apparent that they woman was mildly gushing as she went on, "Kagome made them, she's such a good cook, don't you think?"

Kagome squeezed her eyes tightly shut and clamped her lips together to keep from saying anything. She knew that her mother intended it as no more than a reminder that she was prepared for the responsibilities that would come with having ownership over this house, but from an outside perspective . . . it could certainly be seen as her mother trying to market a quality indicative of making a good wife.

"Yes," Professor Taisho said, "but then it would seem she excels at much."

"Now that is just not true." Kagome responded, shaking her head.

"Oh?" Although they were speaking to one another, both kept their eyes on their dishes so it nearly appeared they were having conversations with their food. "Name one endeavor you've undertaken that you've not done well?"

"Um . . . ."

"Off the top of your head, one thing."

She gave a shrug, finally, unable to hide that this had caused her to crack a smile. "I seem to be really bad at relaxing."

Professor Taisho graced her with a short, low chuckle then. "You're a girl after my own heart."

Immediately after those words fell from his lips Kagome, Sango, Miroku and the professor all gave small starts before they each glanced quickly around the table. Mrs. Higurashi didn't seem to notice as she fussed with pouring more sauce into a shallow dish and Souta noticed . . . something was up, but couldn't quite make heads or tails of it.

Professor Taisho set narrowed eyes on his assistant and the young man's girl friend. Did they . . . know? Was that what all that nonsense was about earlier? Surely Kagome might have confided in Sango, that was what girls did with their best friends, but he doubted either would have the sheer lack of common sense to have told Miroku. The man was certainly personable enough, but not much about him shouted trusted confidant. That, and Miroku hadn't been out of his sight all afternoon, there simply hadn't been time.

Unless . . . unless he'd been too obvious about his feelings. Oh, bloody hell . . . .

"So, Mrs. Higurashi," Sango said suddenly in a bright, chipper tone that only Kagome really knew was feigned- and it was all she could do not to mouth the words thank you. "I was wondering if you and I could work on something together."

Mrs. Higurashi looked up smiling and for a moment her daughter thought she glimpsed the beautiful and vibrant woman she usually knew her mother to be. "What would that be, Sango?"

"Kagome's big two-oh is coming up, I thought we could plan a party."

"I think that's a wonderful idea. We have nearly two months, that should be plenty of time to make arrangements."

Kagome set down her chopsticks and set her hands on the table, looking from her friend to her mother and back again. "Wow, I . . . completely forgot my birthday's coming up. You two don't really need to make a big deal about it."

"Oh, don't be silly . . ." Mrs. Higurashi was saying as she stood up from her seat and disappeared momentarily into the kitchen, returning remarkably quickly with another serving of skewered beef to set on the table and resuming her seat as she continued, "It's not every day that your eldest child ages out of being able to be considered a child."

"I thought that had happened when I turned eighteen," Kagome grumbled quietly, only to have her mother and Sango both wave dismissively at her.

"Hey," Souta finally chimed in on the conversation, "my friend Ryo has this cousin that lived in America for a while and he said that over there the big deal is turning twenty-one."

"Really?" Mrs. Higurashi said, the misplaced-seeming mischievous tone in her voice making Kagome look up at her with a smirk, nearly expecting it when the woman winked at her. "Maybe we should move there Souta, so you can be my baby boy for an extra year."

" . . . Forget I mentioned it," the boy said, bringing a light, tension releasing laughter from all around the table.

Or rather, it seemed to come from all around the table. Professor Taisho Sesshomaru made a good show of feigning laughter. A few minutes later, he even made a good show of smiling good-naturedly as he and his assistant and students regaled Kagome's mother with some of the more humorous tales from their time at the site and was careful to edit out the parts of their adventures that had been dangerous to the girl.

Girl . . . there it was again.

As all of these little pleasantries had taken place on the surface, a corner of his mind had been picking at something. For a very long time now he'd been thinking of Higurashi Kagome as just that, a girl, despite knowing that she was a grown woman. It had merely been a device, just another of many little things he'd kept in place for the sole purpose of accomplishing a single thing. Keeping Higurashi Kagome at a distance.

The turn the conversation had taken was pulling that away from him. Simple words forcing him to acknowledge that he would not be able to keep her at arm's length forever. And with her nervous, blurted, heartfelt confession earlier, he knew that their promise to keep up appearance would be even more daunting.

* * *

"Thank you for a pleasant dinner," the professor said for perhaps the tenth time that evening as Kagome stood on the front stoop with him.

She laughed quietly, glancing over her shoulder to double-check that she'd closed the door behind her. "No problem, I love being embarrassed by my family and friends in front of a guy I have feelings for," she whispered.

"That isn't what I meant," he replied in a low tone. "And you need to not throw those sort of reminders at me."

"I know, I'm sorry," she muttered, turning her head to look up at him.

Amber eyes locked on hers and he couldn't help but consider . . . how perfect a moment this would be, were they free in such a manner. "Are you, really?"

Kagome blinked slowly- how could he even been asking her that . . . and gods, did he look gorgeous in the mixed play of light from their porch lamp and the bright gibbous moon hanging in the sky. "Yes. Why . . . why would you think I'd want to make our situation more difficult?"

He swiveled on a heel so that he was turned entirely toward her and she couldn't help the dazed wonderment as she noticed . . . was his face getting . . . closer?

"Perhaps you enjoy making things difficult for me," he murmured.

She'd felt the whisper of his breath over her lips as he'd spoken . . . understood that it wasn't merely that he was leaning down . . . that she was also raising up on her toes, as well. Inching herself upward so slowly that she'd not even been aware of what her body had been doing.

Her eyes drifted closed as she felt the faintest pressure against her mouth, just the lightest brushing of his lips over hers. His hands lifted slowly, cupping the sides of her face gently for only the very briefest moment before they clamped over her shoulders and set her back down on her heels.

Kagome could feel it . . . she could see it, right there behind those damned almost-impassive amber orbs. He wanted to take more than that from her, and because he now recognized that she had the same wants he had to pull away.

Letting his hands drop from her shoulders, he took a backward step away from her before turning toward the steps. "Good night, Higurashi. Get some rest, I will see you when you return to school," he called over his shoulder as he walked away.

Kagome gave a small, slightly shaky nod. "Good night Professor Taisho."

She watched him walk to his car, watched as he climbed in and drove away. For a long time afterward she simply stood there, staring out into the night sky, trying to decide whether or not she should be in a state of self-induced denial over what had just happened. All the while she was dimly aware of her mother opening the door, stepping out to check on her . . . of Souta in the house yelling about where something or other was . . . of the fact that Miroku and Sango were still in the living room.

As Kagome was turning on her heel to head back inside she felt something. A shock of cold tugged through the pit of her stomach as she stood perfectly still, trying to focus on what she was sensing. The sensation of warm breath tickling over the back of her neck forced her to turn so quickly that she stumbled and fell only to immediately begin skittering herself backward toward the door.

Nothing . . . . Taking a deep, stuttering breath, she let her eyes wander, tried to let her other sense reach out. . . . Nothing. With trembling fingers, she reached into the basket of salt and scooped out a handful, tossing it out in a broad circle around herself.

"Okay, Kagome," she muttered to herself, "Whatever it was, it's gone now . . . get up. . . . Get your little Japanese butt off of this porch now!"

Despite the stern, if short, talking-to she gave herself, it was still a bit longer before Kagome managed to pull herself up. The sudden rash of goosebumps she'd had was long subsided and by the time she put her hand on the knob and opened the door she nearly crashed right into Miroku and Sango.

"Uh . . ." she gave her head a quick shake, trying to banish any telling look that would have Sango saying anything unnecessary in front of Miroku. "Sango . . . I hate to ask, but um, do you think you could stay over tonight?"

Sango's gaze hadn't even needed to leap to Miroku before she decided. "Sure, Kags."

Miroku, however, recognized that there was an entire volume of context to that interaction that had gone unspoken. What he didn't get was how they understood it.

"You two keep reminding me that I need to stop pretending that I understand women."

Kagome forced a light giggle at that before stepping around Sango and back into the house, allowing the girl time to bid her boyfriend farewell in privacy. She held in a sigh and tried to push aside the desire to turn everything that had happened- that was happening still- over in her head. It was no wonder she'd forgotten about her own birthday. How could she be expected to remember anything so normal?

"Okay," Sango's mumbled voice gave her a start and Kagome turned back to face her friend. "You want to tell me what's up."

"Don't get mad, but no . . . I just don't want to be by myself when I'm sleeping . . . okay?"

She could see it in Sango's face- the struggle not to demand to be told, or insist that she already knew what this was about. She just couldn't bring herself to say it. The last thing she needed was Sango fretting over things that had nothing to do with what the problems which faced them already.

"It's not about Lyka. I just need you, is that okay?"

Sango cracked a half-grin and lightly nudged Kagome's shoulder with a loosely curled first. "Of course it is."

A moment like this was what Kagome had been dreading since the flight back from Central America. It wasn't Lyka or anything to do with The Thief. No . . . it had been some random, passing entity just trying to mess with her. Those things that were always around, but no one ever noticed trying to have a little fun at her expense. She wasn't at all certain how she knew, but she was positive- she trusted her gut-instinct- that the intention had been no more than that.

It was proof that her world had become so much bigger than her current predicament. A simple truth, yes . . . but one she was reluctant to burden her friend with until she could face it, herself.

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