InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Stealing Heaven ❯ Simplicities ( Chapter 24 )

Chapter Twenty-Four

Simplicities

She was running, though she had no idea from what or to where, only able to discern the sound and feel of her boots hitting hard dirt and the fear pounding around her brain, shouting at her with every step, with every trembling, frenzied inhalation of breath that if she stopped than that was it. There was nothing to tell her where she was, adding to her fright- it was pitch black all around her, compounding her dread with the worry that she would slam face first into something or trip and fall any second.

The worry didn't matter, because all she knew was that she couldn't stop.

It was then . . . as Kagome acknowledged that she was so very afraid . . . as she reminded herself that to stop fearing was to leave herself open and vulnerable that her environment began to brighten, that smells and sounds began to invade her senses. Splashes of green and deep, ruddy brown. The soft, almost leathery feel of wide leaves slapping against her limbs as she moved. Thick, banded roots rose beneath her feet as they struck the ground, not truly hindering her progress, but creating a dull, splintering ache in the soles of her feet from the sheer force of her own weight behind her hurried steps.

The air was damp and heavy with the smell of rich soil and foliage as it rattled in through her nostrils and down into her lungs. Strange chirps and cries echoed through her ears and she became aware, suddenly and sharply that somehow . . . she was running through the jungle.

She did stumble then- cursing herself even as she fell, hitting the ground on her hands and knees, for letting that moment of comprehension distract her. Before she could recover from her spill something was pressing against her back, pushing her downward into the soil. She tried to push back, to stay upraised, but whatever was leaning down on her was stronger than she was.

As she was being forced slowly lower, the damp earth beneath her inching upward to meet her face she feared that she was going to be smothered by the thing behind her. Her arms and legs were straightening, flattening out over the ground against her will, but for the barest moment, she was almost stupid enough to be relieved for just as the tip of her nose brushed the soil she was roughly turned over to face her attacker.

The first thing she registered was wide, endlessly deep black eyes, dark orbs that glittered at her in the most mind-numblingly frightening combination of mischief and malice.

Like staring into the eyes of a baby-faced serial killer . . . .

Sooner than Kagome could move Lyka was on her again, sitting on her chest to pin Kagome's arms against her sides with her knees. Kagome opened her mouth to scream, to yell, to curse- hell, even to spit if she could work herself up to it- on her captor, but just as quickly as Lyka had restrained her, the medicine woman was clamping a tiny, soft hand that was impossibly delicate for all the strength she seemed to possess over the mouth of her prey.

"Now, now . . ." Lyka leaned forward, oddly gentle as she smoothed Kagome's bangs out of her face with her free hand as she cooed in the girl's ear, "is that any way to welcome an old friend?"

Blue eyes narrowing lethally, Kagome forced her mouth open and bit down hard on the first knuckle to fall between her lips. Lyka pulled back slowly, quirking a single, sleek dark brow before a frown graced her full lips and she shrugged- only irking Kagome more that she was not affected by this- finally extracting her hand from her captive's mouth.

"This suits me just as well . . . ." Lyka reached a hand behind her back and- seemingly out of thin air- produced the jar Kagome knew on sight to contain the horrid entity's ashes. Smirking, Lyka pulled the earthen-clay cap that had sealed it shut free and tossed it lightly aside. "I need your mouth open for this, anyway."

Instantly Kagome renewed her struggles, clamping her lips tightly together and turning her face away as she tried to throw the other woman off of her, but it was no use, Lyka wouldn't budge. Giving a heavy, world-weary sigh, Lyka gripped a hand around Kagome's jaw, squeezing the hinges with the tips of her thumb and fingers.

As she increased the pressure incrementally, forcing Kagome's lips to part, forcing her clenched teeth to separate, Lyka said in an oddly leisurely tone, "Why must everyone always fight me on what I want? Have you not seen enough of what becomes of those who cross me?"

The moment Kagome's mouth opened fully Lyka began upending the jar, slowly pouring the ashes in, seeming to take great joy in the sound of Kagome choking on it.

Kagome bolted upright in bed so fast that she tumbled off the side of her mattress and hit the floor, almost too distracted by the clean air she was pulling excitedly into her lungs between coughs to feel the sting of impacting the thinly-carpetted wooden surface. Patting one hand against her chest as she leaned over to rub the hip she'd landed on with the other, she glanced across the room, vaguely surprised that the ruckus she'd just made hadn't brought Sango running over.

She quirked a brow, pushing herself up to stand as the coughing subsided, finally. Sango's bed was empty. This meant that her friend was either in the bathroom . . . or had sneaked off for a late night rendevouz with Miroku.

". . . Figures," Kagome grumbled, throwing herself back down into her own bed and pulling her quilt up over her head, knowing the latter option was far more likely.

Snuggling her head down against her pillow she forced a yawn- thinking that, despite the jarring start her nightmare had given her, she could trick her body back into feeling tired. She tried to sort through her scrambled, dijointed thoughts so that if she did manage to fool her body she would be able to actually fall asleep rather than spending half the night exhaustedly pondering her troubles.

She would have loved to have simply filled Sango's ear with all of this, but Sango was off being happy somewhere that wasn't here. A dark, miserable frown graced Kagome's lips at the negative coloring to her thought just then. It was hardly as though she begrudged Sango these moments . . . but she would be lying to herself to deny that she was more than a little envious of the simple freedom Sango and Miroku had.

This was her first, official, night back on campus and she was still reeling just a bit from the things that had happened that evening Professor Taisho had been invited to dine at her house. That it would eventually be her house was troubling enough all on its own.

At first it had seemed proposterious. Her mother and Souta were two people, how could Kagome- as one person- possibly need more space than they did? But then in the days to follow it was further explained that this was not an immediate plan, they would wait until Souta was in high school, when her mother would be free to work longer hours, so neither would actually be home very often.

This bit of information, along with certain key mentions her mother had made that orignally went unnoticed by her finally did bring Kagome to understand the intention. That first statement about her being the oldest . . . the reminder that she was a good cook . . . being advised that this was what her grandfather would have wanted . . . . This was ll in the hope and preparation that one day she would fill her family's house with a husband and children . . . . That she'd be the one to make it a home again, because right now it was just a shell with people living inside of it . . . .

Just like it had been after her father had died. Years had slipped by before it had felt like someplace any of them could call home again.

And her situation with Professor Taisho?

Groaning, Kagome rolled over onto her other side and curled into a ball, pulling the blanket tight all around her. She had not actually seen or spoken to him since that night. It made her wonder, however, if he wasn't finally starting to understand her, because it seemed just as she'd begun to worry that he might be trying to ignore, or forget, what had happened that she'd received the email. It wasn't anything long or complicated, just a single sentence from that email address only she knew was his.

Hope all is well.

That was it . . . something small- and, yes, completely platonic for the sake of any eyes that might pry- but that was enough. Knowing he'd been thinking of her was all she needed. It was sweetly surprising each time she allowed herself to realize how unbelievably satisfying that simple little knowledge was.

Tomorrow would be the true test- her first day back in class. Her first time in his presence again since that chaste, but so very meaningful, kiss. She hoped that being in the company of the rest of the class would help them to stay in their proper and appropriate roles.

The Thief . . . well, she really wasn't at all in control of that situation. He sort of came and went as he pleased, like always. So because there was nothing she could do about that- yet and again- she pushed it aside. He'd not appeared since their awkward, if troublingly a little heart-felt, parting in the elevator- another thing she didn't think about if she could help it.

With all of these things out of the way, she turned her attention to her nightmare. She had to dissect it, to dismantle it and understand it so that she could put it, too, out of her mind and get what was left to her of a good night's rest.

That- for all of the mind-numbing fright that had clouded her ability to think during the dream- had actually turned out to be easy to discern. The answer was in those first conscious recognitions, those more primitive thoughts that had screamed inside of her, echoing that ancient, all too human instinct of survival.

It was reminding her that she still had things to fear. These last days may not have been wholly pleasant, but they were, indeed, distracting from such worries. The dream had not been something darker or more sinister than her own imagination- this was not Lyka trying to get in her head again, she understood that.

No, this was her own subconscious reminding her, warning her, that if she let herself forget how dangerous that . . . that thing that wore such a pretty face was . . . if she allowed herself to let her guard down then somehow, someway, Lyka would win. It didn't matter how it would happen, either.

All Kagome knew was that it was a turn of events she could never allow to come into being.

* * *

"No," Sango whispered, giggling sleepily as she pulled herself out of Miroku's grasp and started, again, down the corridor.

On the weekends or holidays this place was still buzzing at three AM but most of the student body had one class or another scheduled for just five hours from now which meant they were likely the only people awake on purpose in this building at the moment. She didn't want to be the one responsible for disturbing anyone's sleep. Some people were damned cranky when they were unnecessarily roused from slumber and that was an irritation she didn't feel like having to face.

Reaching out he snatched her hand gently and tugged her back into his arms. "Oh, c'mon . . . just another half hour . . . ."

Dark eyes rolled as she let her head tip to one side, giving him a moment to brush his lips over the side of her throat. "Nope, uh-huh, I'm really tired, okay? You may have later classes, Mr. Finally-In-His-Last-Year-Of-Higher-Education, but I don't. I need to rest."

"At least let me walk you to your door," he murmured, holding onto her hand even as she pulled away from him to begin, again stepping further down the hallway.

"I . . ." Sango's bright, playful expression fell as she looked down the corridor toward her dorm and back at Miroku again. "No, no. I'd like that, but . . . if we wake Kagome and . . . it just wouldn't feel right."

Miroku chuckled quietly, almost humorlessly, at that, having a feeling he understood. "I swear sometimes it sounds like you two are married."

She offered a half-grin, "Funny. I just . . ." Sango lowered her eyes, shrugging, "it just would feel unfair to have her wake up because of us being so cutesy-coupley when . . . when they . . . ." She lifted her gaze, stepping back toward him and cupping a hand against his cheek, "I know neither of them would say anything or show it, but . . . I think being back has been really hard on them."

They, them, their . . . it was really the only safe way to discuss Kagome and Professor Taisho. Despite their romantic feelings being the simplest- or at least most normal- aspect of their situation it was also the only one Sango could talk about with Miroku. And though it wasn't fully honest, it wasn't fully a fabricated truth, either. When Kagome had once thought being able to talk to the professor about their feelings would make it easier to avoid, she now understood how wrong that was, how much more difficult that solid knowledge was going to make it for them to be around one another without showing some sign.

Nodding thoughtfully, he slid his fingers up over hers and pulled them slowly away as he released the hold he'd had on her other hand. "I get it. And I guess you're right. If we were in their shoes, I'd probably hate the whole civilized world for it."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow."

Miroku nodded again, watching as she spun on a heel and started down the corridor. Only after she'd reached her door, stepped inside and closed it behind her did he retreat into the stairwell to begin heading to the men's' dormitories.

Sango gave her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness of the room after the comparatively harsh, over-head illumination of the hallway lighting. She was about to begin changing- as quietly as she could manage- into her sleep wear, but instead crept slowly across the room. When she was close enough, she could clearly see a bundle of what was probably Kagome, her quilt tucked around her like some fluffy, polyester-cotton-blend cocoon.

Sango reached over and gently tugged down the quilt, just enough to see the friend's face. Kagome was sleeping soundly, looking more peaceful than Sango could remember seeing in a while. Smiling to herself, she delicately, affectionately tousled the sleeping girl's hair and returned to the task of changing into her pajamas.

* * *

"Oh, hell . . ." Kagome grumbled, rifling through her backpack.

Sango watched Kagome's near-frantic activity with a slight frown. "What's the matter?"

Wide blue eyes lifted from the contents of her bag to meet her friend's gaze. "I can't find my wallet!"

"What? Oh, crap! Okay, where's the last place you remember having it?"

"Um . . ." Kagome tried to mentally back-track . . . she remembered Sango handing her a note in archeology . . . wanting to get a bite off campus after classes were done for the day . . . she'd taken out her wallet to check how much cash she had on hand . . . Oh, hell . . . . "Professor Taisho's class?"

"You better hope someone honest found it and turned it in! Look, I'll wait for you by the office, if it's not there, call me and I'll check the lost and found for you- saves time and if I don't hear from you I'll just meet you over at the diner."

"Okay," Kagome nodded and rushed off, but it was not until she'd made it halfway toward her destination that she realized something.

Sango had deliberately not volunteered to go with her. She understood why- this was likely to be one of the few times she'd have to speak to Professor Taisho away from other people. They might not say anything at all, but at least the opportunity would be present and Sango didn't want to get in the way of that.

Kagome stopped in front of the door, forcing herself not to reflexively smooth her hands over her clothes; if anyone passed by just now she didn't need it to look like she was so overly concerned with her appearance when she was stepping into a classroom after daytime courses had finished. At least there was the minor comfort that she was dressed nicely today. Oddly- or perhaps it wasn't odd at all- she'd become more attentive to her appearance in these last few weeks. Clad in a red velvet button-down, black leggings and a pair of black hiking boots she'd borrowed from Sango that laced up to the knee, she knew she looked- at the very least- nice.

After what seemed like forever, she at last knocked on the door.

"Enter."

Nodding to herself, she opened the door and poked her head in before stepping inside and closing it behind her. She still wasn't certain anything would be said, but she was getting used to operating on a just in case basis. The professor had his back to the door, leaning over his desk as he seemed to angrily be scratching out and correcting something laid out before him.

"Professor?"

Instantly the sound of his pen moving against the page ceased. "Higurashi . . ." he managed after a moment, setting the pen down and walking around his desk. "I was about to head to the office to drop this off if you or Ryoushi hadn't come to claim it," opening a drawer, he extracted her wallet with two fingers and held it up for her to see. "You're lucky Miroku was the one who spotted it. This may not be kind to say, but I don't believe most of the student body to be terribly trust-worthy."

She couldn't help smirking as she reached out to take it from him, only to pause as the action caused the very tips of her fingers to brush over his. A silent moment passed as they simply looked at one another before he relinquished his hold and let his hand drop to his side.

"Is that all, Higurashi?" Professor Taisho muttered as he busied himself with the papers on his desk once more.

Kagome nodded stiffly as she stuffed her wallet into her bag, somewhat reluctant to simply leave, but knowing that she had to go. As she turned to face the door, she found herself halting again . . . found herself giving a contrary reply aloud.

"You probably don't remember," she mumbled, mindful of where they were, afraid that if she spoke any louder she would be overheard, "but on the site . . . we had a lot of little moments like that one just now. I know it was probably before . . . before you even thought anything of me, but . . . those moments meant a lot to me, I just . . . I just needed to tell you that."

It was silent and she couldn't stop herself from glancing over her shoulder at him. Those beautiful amber eyes had drifted closed, his hands braced against the desktop as he lowered himself slowly into his chair. Sitting back, he propped his elbows up on the armrests and lifted one hand, lightly touching his fingers to his forehead.

"Higurashi . . ." for a few heart wrenching seconds it seemed like that was all he would say, causing her to fear that he was preparing to reprimand her for mentioning such a thing in the place were those incidents were the most dangerous for them. "I remember everything that happens when I'm around you."

He opened his eyes then and Kagome could do nothing more than smile at him. To say anything further . . . to make any move toward him would be inviting trouble, and they both were aware of that. Giving another small nod, she turned away and walked to the door. It was a moment before she could grasp the knob, before she could force herself to willingly step out of his presence.

And then a bolt of ice shot down her spine.

"Lock the door, little priestess."

Forcing a gulp down her throat, Kagome looked over her shoulder to see Nah Rah Ku seated behind Professor Taisho's desk. He met her gaze, smirking wickedly as he pulled the black elastic band from his hair, letting the long pale strands fall loosely around his shoulders.

"And do be so kind and prudent as to close the . . . 'shades'. I do not think you would want anyone to witness this."

Rolling her eyes- how did he stay conscious of these sorts of moments?- she did as she was told, careful to peek out first and be certain no one was around to find this suspicious. Turning on her heel, she pressed her back against the door and just looked at him for a long, silent while.

"For someone who seems to know how bad it is to appear here for an offering, you certainly don't seem to mind the potential dangers."

"Mmm, perhaps that . . . 'taboo' makes the act that much more appealing." He crooked a clawed finger at her.

She hated to admit it, but even as she did something so simple as stepping closer to him, she could already feel her body warming . . . could feel that pleasant tingling of anticipation in her limbs. Being in his presence, knowing what was about to happen caused her body to respond almost violently, her legs trembling beneath her own weak knees as she approached the desk, her backpack falling to the floor more a virtue of her fingers losing their ability to grip than of purposefully releasing her hold.

He scooted his chair back and looked up at her as he patted his lap. Biting deep into her lower lip for a moment, Kagome stuttered, "B-b-but . . . what if I make noise, what if we're overheard?"

Frowning at being delayed- she always seemed so insistent on putting off the inevitable- he reached out a hand, snatching her wrist before she could blink and yanking her closer. "I will keep you silent," he assured her, "and you, indeed, fed me well last time, so now I will take from you a morsel."

He clamped his hands over her hips and turned her around before pulling her backward into his lap. That she never expected this to happen here had Kagome in a bit of a daze . . . a hazy sort of disbelief that coated what was happening as one of his hands slid upward into her shirt, immediately running the tips of his claws over her one of her nipples through the fine, satin sheen of her bra. Only when she trembled at this, when her mouth fell open in a quick, silent gasp, did he slip his other hand between her legs, moving one and then the other so that she was straddling his lap.

Still in that bit of fog- and never quite certain what to do with her hands in these instances- Kagome reached back, linking her hands behind his neck. She allowed it, moving with him as he nudged her face with his own to bring his mouth to the side of her throat. It almost distracted her from the moment when she felt his fingers stroking between her thighs . . . through her leggings. When had she become so used to feeling his skin against hers that this alteration would actually trouble her?

"What are you doing?" she mumbled, clamping her lips shut to stifle a moan as he sank his teeth into the soft skin just below her ear.

"Mmm," he rubbed his hand harder against her, delighting in the tremor it sent through her, "I am using friction to my advantage. You see, this" he paused intentionally, then, working the tip of a finger directly over where he knew that precious, throbbing little bead of flesh to be, instantly removing the hand that had been beneath her blouse to cover her mouth, muffling what sound was escaping her, "is a very delicate thing, indeed and when it is bared to me . . . it limits how much your body can handle."

Kagome nodded, whimpering behind his hand as her pelvis jerked, moving her against his hand of its own volition.

"No . . . no, little priestess, hold still," he warned, pausing in his ministrations.

Uncertain of what this was all about- she could have sworn he liked it when she moved on her own- she did as she was told, holding her body still, her hips rolled back so that she was pressed firmly against his fingers.

"Good girl. Now, with this garment protecting you, I can do this," he rubbed the entire length of his hand, from the tip of his fingers to the heel of his palm, roughly over her, back and for just once, allowing her to comprehend.

Again she nodded to let him know she understood and unable to stop the moan that tore out of her- making her oddly grateful for his hand over her mouth- as he began stroking the length of his hand over her again and again. She tried to hold still, finding she had to curl her ankles around his to keep from moving. With every motion of his hand over her he went just a little faster, worked against her flesh just a little harder.

He returned to sucking and nibbling at her throat as she felt the sweet, surprising shock of him growing hard beneath her. A corner of her mind puzzled over that even as the rest of her body was caught up in the feel of his palm driving against her. Only twice had he come when he took her offering and yet she was positive he'd gotten hard every time . . . did it somehow subside on its own when he fed?

Her head fell back and she had to move then, rolling her hips forward and arching her back as her body began to go taut. She was dimly aware of The Thief's low, breathy chuckling against her neck as he switched the rhythm of his strokes, working her flesh now in quick, jerking motions. It forced Kagome to moan behind his hand once more as the almost-bizarre sensation of his fingers shaking against her brought the orgasm crashing through her.

She gripped trembling fingers into his hair, lifting herself off of his lap to press herself more tightly against the vibrations his fingers were creating. "Very good, little priestess," he murmured in her ear as she continued pushing against his hand, "come harder, I know you can."

Kagome didn't think that was possible, but suddenly she was distinctly, sharply aware of every second of his fingers trembling motions over her, was aware of how hard and warm he was beneath her. She had no choice, biting down on one of his fingers to keep from crying out as the delicious warmth continued dancing through her when, she knew by now, this was the moment it should have begun to ebb.

"Such a wonderful pet you are," he said quietly when, at last, it began to wash out of her and she settled back into his lap, shuddering violently as he again rubbed the length of his hand over her, catering to the blissful aftershocks as they rocked through her.

When he finally extracted his hands from her, she simply lay there against him for a long while, catching her breath. Before she could even consider what he'd just called her, Kagome's brain- seeming to be working at last- was tripping over something else. She snatched up his hand, examining the finger she'd bitten. It was a relief that she'd not broken skin, but the area was still marred, red and showing the indentation marks of what were clearly human teeth.

"I'm not your pet," she muttered, not looking up from her inspection.

"You say this as though it is a bad thing for me to consider you such."

"It's not a 'bad thing', so much as it's sort of demeaning . . . and if you wanted to get technical about it, it's more like you're my pet since I'm the one feeding you."

"Amusing how 'technically' does not make it valid."

Blue eyes rolled, but Kagome kept the comment on the tip of her tongue about how annoying he could be right where it was. "Can you . . . not let him come back until this goes away?"

Tipping his head, he peered over her shoulder, looking down at his large hand clasped in her smaller ones. No, no, not his hand . . . Taisho Sesshomaru's hand. He did not think on the discussion she had with this Sesshomaru . . . he could not understand why, but he did not like that they had staked unspoken claims on one another.

This served his purpose, did it not? The more deeply she felt for this Sesshomaru, the more reason she had to keep him satisfied. But . . . something in his planning had gone terribly wrong and he simply could not grasp what that was.

But what Nah Rah Ku did understand was that he did not like this feeling. "As you wish," he said levelly after a long moment before all but shoving her out of his lap.

Kagome quirked a brow, not unaffected by the sudden darkening of his mood. It was like a rabbit sensing that a starved wolf had gotten close enough to catch its scent. She took the cue as it was intended, snatching her bag up from the floor and stumbling across the room to the door. As soon as her fingers turned the lock, however, she stilled . . . feeling the impression of anger fade. Glancing over her shoulder toward the desk she saw him scooping his hair back. She watched as he folded him arms over the desk- it was obvious he was going to make the professor think he'd fallen asleep in the middle of his work just after Kagome had left the room. The whole while he refused to raise his gaze to look at her, though she could tell he felt her eyes on him.

Shaking her head, she smoothed her hands over her clothing and quickly combed her fingers through her hair before at last opening the door and stepping out into the corridor. All the way to the exit . . . every step that took her off of campus and toward the diner she refused to think about that last moment.

She would not acknowledge that what she'd felt from the demon in the absence of that dark, savage anger . . . had been sadness.

As she reached the diner, through the window she could see Sango already at a table, already waving her to come in. Kagome caught sight of her own reflection then and nodded briefly to herself as she mumbled, "He's just a monster, Kagome . . . he can't feel sadness and even if he could, it wouldn't matter."

She ignored that speaking those words had somehow left her feeling just a little bit hollow.

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