InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Stealing Heaven ❯ Breaking Down ( Chapter 34 )

(I am sorry that it has taken me a while to get this update out, I'm being assailed by some very distracting original fiction plunnies. I also need to portion my time better so I can finish my first novel while completing Stealing Heaven & just have a lot of family-stuffs going on right now, so I haven't had time to focus on writing. That being said, please take this chapter's length with a grain of salt- I am trying to keep the `less-important' transitional chapters to a minimum in both quantity and length so that the bulk of the writing can take place where it needs to- in the juicy, weighty parts of the story XD!

Picked up a nomination for Best Lemon- thanks everyone!

For those that might like a lemony treat, you might be interested my latest SK fic, Once Upon a Time in Khem. It is only posted on Dokuga & rated MA. Take heed of the A/N in chapter one, however, as there may be some citrus that includes themes that- while not incredibly eyebrow-raising- are a bit of a departure from what most of my readers have come to expect from me.)

Chapter Thirty-Four

Breaking Down

Sango tried to banish the smile from her face as she crept through the corridor to her dorm, gently easing the key into the lock and turning the knob. Inching her way into the room, she turned immediately toward the door to silently push it shut.

“Hey, Kags? You awake?” She whispered over her shoulder before turning around- it was late, she knew Kagome was probably out cold, but the happy weight of Miroku's promise ring around her finger was prompting her to jolt her friend awake so someone could share in her joy.

That was when she heard it. Low, muffled . . . yet unmistakably the sound of sniffling. Sango did finally turn, then, to see a dark, crumpled shape at the head of Kagome's bed.

“Kags?” she murmured uncertainly, making her way blindly to the lamp and switching it on.

Kagome didn't move. Her back was to Sango, her form hunched forward, as though she was curled into a ball around something. The long, dark waves of hair that were almost always smooth and gleaming were snarled and mussed, drawing even more attention to the occasional trembling shudder that rocked through the girl's small, rounded shoulders.

She still hadn't answered, causing Sango all the more worry. Gently she lowered herself to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching out to touch Kagome's arm, but stopping and pulling her hand back before making contact- Kagome hadn't budged, if she was so lost in whatever she was feeling that she hadn't heard her, than Sango didn't want to frighten her.

“Kags . . . ? What happened?” she ventured in a whisper, since the usual question people always asked in these moments- are you okay- seemed mind bogglingly stupid when the person was already in a huddled mass of sniffles and shivering.

A long moment passed, Sango feeling as though she was holding her breath the entire time, before Kagome shifted on the bed to face her. The girl was a wretched sight, hugging a pillow so tightly that if it needed oxygen she'd have surely strangled it to death by now, the whites of her eyes beet red, her nose nearly the same shade. Her cheeks appeared dry, but Sango could only guess this was because the actual tears had stopped flowing some time ago, leaving the girl to dry, hiccupping sobs.

Frowning sadly she reached out, taking hold of the bottom of the pillow and attempting to wedge it out of Kagome's grasp. No sooner did she have it worked free than did Kagome throw her arms out, wrapping them around Sango and burying her face against her friend's neck. In a frail, stuttering whisper, Kagome told Sango everything that had happened that night.

“. . . How could you listen to a word he said?” Sango asked with a shrug, soothingly rubbing Kagome's back, but unable to voice anything other than her doubts- she knew she couldn't understand what any of this was like for Kagome, but how could she think something so trivial would scare the professor away?

But then again . . . Kagome and Professor Taisho were heavy thinkers . . . maybe to people like them it wasn't so trivial.

Kagome managed to muster up a shrug of her own. “It just . . . it made sense at the time. I know that I should have recognized that he was manipulating me, but I just didn't. It was like . . .” she pulled away, wiping the back of her hand across her nose and giving a small, mournful smile, “I've always been intimidated by how far apart we really are, ya know?”

Sango remained silent, letting her suddenly upraised eyebrows answer for her.

Kagome shook her head, trying to explain it anywhere but in her head and have it still make sense. “Well . . . I was. From the moment I realized I liked him I was scared half-to-death. I mean, student and teacher? And not just any teacher . . . doctor and esteemed professor in the field I'm hoping to make my career in? He's like a decade and a half older than me, and then I find out . . .” she paused, fighting a spontaneous upwelling of tears as she once more thought over Rin's tragic story. “I know- and I knew- that he'd had a whole life before we'd even met, but knowing how much that life had put him through? Knowing what he's experienced and suffered through . . . and lost,” her voice cracked just a little on that last word.

A long moment of strained quiet passed before Kagome could continue. “All these things that separate us suddenly became highlighted for me and the idea that letting Sesshomaru realize these same things might push him away just broke my heart. I was terrified of losing what's been building between us.”

Kagome lowered her eyes, wrapping her arms around her sides to hug herself tightly. “To have your heart tangled up in something that's . . . so potent, but somehow so incredibly fragile . . . . It's the most terrifying feeling in the world, Sans.”

Sango nodded reluctantly- she supposed that from Kagome's point of view and lack of experience in matters of the heart, the whole thing did make a skewed sort of sense, and whatever the demon had been doing while pointing all of that out to her probably hadn't helped her to think clearly in the least. “I understand . . . sort of. You have to know, you make supporting your choices very difficult for me, sometimes.”

A mirthless chuckle bubbled out of Kagome at that. “I'm not asking you to support what happened. It was a bad decision, I couldn't see how bad at the time, but I know now. I'm asking for you to help me get past it.”

“Only one way to do that . . . well,” Sango shifted her head side to side in a sort-of nod, “two, but the second we've been planning to do forever, anyways. First . . . you're going to have to talk to Professor Taisho about what really happened.”

Blue eyes rolled. “You know why I can't do that! If he finds out, the demon will know and we don't know what Nah Rah Ku would do to him.”

“Yeah, well, as true as that is, none of this has been fair to the professor, and you know it,” Sango ignored the stricken look that came over Kagome's face then, forcing herself to continue as she wedged her cellphone out of her pocket. “You can't let him go on thinking he hurt you and you can't go on carrying all these burdens the demon's hoisted on you from day one.”

Kagome watched Sango punch in a number and set the phone to her ear. She hadn't wanted to tell Sango about what had happened . . . no, that wasn't really true. She hadn't wanted to tell anyone. She was so ashamed, so mortified and miserable, but she also knew that she had not the faintest clue of how to get out of the emotional hole she'd dug herself into on her own. The idea of finally being able to somehow share the entire mess with Sesshomaru was riddled with both peaceful relief and crippling anxiety.

There was always the chance he might believe her. Whether he did or not, however, the idea that he might never look at her the same way again tore and clawed painfully at her heart.

“Miroku?” Sango said in a hurried tumble of sound. “We're skipping classes tomorrow.”

Kagome went wide-eyed at this bit of news, but before she could voice any objection Sango was waving a dismissive hand in her vague direction.

“Kags needs to see Myoga . . . like A-S-A-P. Hmm? No, you don't need to go with us, but I guess it couldn't hurt.”

Stifling a groan, Kagome let her chin tip toward the ceiling as she fell backwards onto her bed. It had been difficult enough letting Sango in on what had happened, but with Miroku tagging along, there was going to be very little chance of keeping it from him, too. And after that uncomfortable chat in the coffee shop a few weeks ago, she was pretty certain there was no way she wouldn't get an earful from him. Not that she probably didn't deserve it, she just wasn't sure she could feel any worse about this whole mess than she already did.

Sango hung up, sliding her phone onto the night table and turned, only to entirely misinterpret Kagome's dramatic, if silent, response. “It's okay, we'll help you through this,” she said with a gentle supportive smile as she reached out to pat Kagome on the knee.

Kagome only managed another groan, rolling onto her side and closing her eyes. She was going to make at least a meager attempt at getting some sleep. Even if they were- and she cringed at the thought- ditching classes tomorrow, it was already well into the wee hours of the morning and she didn't want to show up on Myoga's door step looking like death warmed over.

It seemed a minor relief that she had been forcibly spared from sitting in Professor Taisho's classroom tomorrow, though. She had no idea how she was going to manage being so close to him . . . having to see his face, to listen to his voice after what had happened. That constant, acute awareness of how badly he must be hurting right now, but not yet being able to do a thing about it . . . .

The very thought made her want to bolt; the unpleasant and distasteful mixture of pain and fear made her want to never have to face him again. But he deserved better than that from her.

She hoped, as the stubborn first stirrings of sleep began to pull at her, that Myoga would have something- anything- that would aid her.

O-O-O

Sesshomaru watched the students filing out of the classroom, ignoring the occasional glances in his direction. How could he blame them? Who could help staring? He knew he made for a miserable sight. There were bags under his eyes from not being able to scrape together the tiniest amount of sleep last night; his usually stern expression was notably more severe than usual. He didn't need a mirror to confirm that- he could feel the constant, downward tug at the corners of his mouth at nearly every moment.

Finally alone in the room his frown only deepened, amber gaze landing unerringly on Higurashi Kagome's usual seat. He hadn't noticed that Sango was absent . . . it had barely registered on him that Miroku wasn't in today, either.

Higurashi Kagome, who'd only ever missed his class to tend to her grandfather's passing, was absent.

He sat down heavily in his seat, resting his elbows on his desk to steeple his hands in front of his mouth. He wasn't sure he could blame her, though. Maybe she needed some time. Yes, that made sense- it hurt, but it made sense. After last night, the idea that she didn't want to face him right now was much more soothing and palatable than the alternative. That alternative . . . . His eyes drifted closed as he forced an uncomfortable, pained gulp down his throat.

That alternative was that she never wanted to face him again.

O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O