InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Strictly Taboo ❯ Heart Heart Head ( Chapter 18 )

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

They ate the now cold and soggy picnic in Inuyasha’s bed. The meal was awkward, with both of them pretending the ordeal with the camera guy and the car hadn’t happened. Neither of them wanted to discuss it, naturally being people who avoided problems until they absolutely had to be dealt with. Instead, they traded distracted kisses and half-heartedly tried to feed each other, losing interest in games about half-way through the basket. The evening was ruined, and no amount of forced playfulness was going to bring the mood back. Finally, Inuyasha decided to call it a night, ignoring Kagome’s weak protests.

“One last thing,” he said, hoping this at least could bring the spark back to her eyes. “Your gift. Here,” he said gruffly, suddenly shy. Pulling a long gold chain from under his pillow, he handed her the necklace. Her curiosity showed on her face and made him smirk. She took it from him, her fingers carefully opening the locket that swung from the delicate chain. Inside was a small oil painting of him and one of her. It had taken a lot of money and threats, but he managed to get it done by the best painter he knew of in only six days. He had heard the poor man had developed a cocaine habit due to his demands. Oh well, that wasn’t important. He smiled softly at how tenderly she handled it.

“I have one, too,” he said quietly, pulling his out from under his shirt. His chain was silver and it sparkled in the dull light. “Yours is the color of my eyes and mine is the color of yours.”

“It’s my second favorite piece of jewelry in the world,” she said softly, stroking the ring she wore. Biting her lip and smiling, she jumped up from the bed. “I got something for you, too. Well, I made something,” she said sheepishly. “It’s in my room, let me go and fetch it.”

Inuyasha lay back on the bed and relaxed, watching Kagome’s shapely retreating figure. He had not been expecting anything from her, but anything she gave was wonderful, especially if made by her own hands. Sure, he teased her about tons of things regarding her abilities, but he did love to know she cared for him. Something made by hand was infinitely more precious than something bought. If he could, he would made the locket on his own, but it would have been much less impressive. Badly drawn crayon figures weren’t something women enjoyed receiving from grown men. A scream interrupted his train of thought and wiped the dreamy smile off his face. Kagome was hurt. He ran faster than he thought possible, skidding to a stop in front of her room. The sight that met his eyes was something he’d never forget.

Hearts, actual, real hearts were scattered across her room. There must have been dozens. Blood was splattered across the walls, her furniture, the floor. He sniffed and nearly gagged. They were dog hearts. He recognized them by the smell and size. The words “bitch”, “whore”, and “slut” were scrawled across her wall in fairly neat writing, something he was vaguely surprised by. In horror movies, it was always smeared and dripping, sloppy and careless. Taking a step into the room to comfort the terrified girl, his bare foot encountered something smooth, and he glanced down and picked it up. It was a photo of him and Kagome. They were in his bed and he was over her, staring into her eyes with an intensity he could feel just looking at the picture. They were naked and his form was slightly blurred; he must have been thrusting hard and fast, close to completion. Judging by the angle, it was taken from inside the house, probably from the very doorway of his room. How? He would have sensed it.

But there were more. Momentarily putting off soothing Kagome, he picked them up. It was easy since they nearly carpeted the floor. Tons of different pictures, all of them extremely incriminating. Him and Kagome on the dining room table, him and Kagome in the car in her school’s parking lot, him and Kagome on the stairs, that time under the Goshinboku, at a restaurant, on the porch.

“I can’t do this,” came Kagome’s strained voice. Inuyasha looked over at her. She was on her knees and clutching several photographs in her shaking hands. “I c-can’t do this.”

The tears started, and with them came big, hiccoughing breaths. He began to worry she was going to have a panic attack. He moved to her side. “Calm down, Kagome, shhh, calm down,” he said as gently as he possibly could, feeling like a kindergarten teacher. “Everything will be okay. I’ll find who did this and they’ll never bother us again.”

Her sobs gathered volume. “But I’ll still be a bad person. Mother will never love me now,” she said loudly, the words distorted by her emotion.

Inuyasha immediately felt a deep guilt. “It’ll be okay. I’ll pick up all the pictures and call a clean-up crew and get people started on finding this psycho.”

“Call the police,” she yelled, clutching the photos in her hands so tightly that they crumpled.

“No, Kagome. I’m going to do this my own way,” he said, firm but still gentle. Police would just complicate things, and if they actually managed to somehow stumble onto who did it, then it would be impossible to deal with the perpetrator in the way they deserved. In addition to that, cops would ask too many questions, probably get Kikyo involved, and generally ruin any time he had to spend with Kagome.

She glared up at him. “Call the police!”

“No. I’ve been alive a long time. I can do better than a bunch of idiot humans with a violent streak that didn’t make it past high school.”

“I’m going to call them, then.”

“No.”

Kagome rose to her feet and they glared at each other, the tenseness of the moment nearly tangible. She made a sudden movement to try to get past him and he grabbed her, pulling her into his arms and embracing her, trapping her limbs with his own. Muffling her screams by holding her face to his chest, he lifted her up and hurried back to his room, leaving her in it and barricading the door with a table he kept in the hallway. He was determined not to look at her and succeeded, afraid the betrayal in her eyes would sway him and complicate matters unnecessarily.

He pulled out his cell phone, wincing each time he heard Kagome hit or kick the door, screaming for him to let her out. There was an edge of panic and desperation to her tone and he tried to tune her out as he informed Myoga of the situation and gave directions on a few things, leaving the rest up to him. He nearly gagged thinking about the ball the flea demon would have in the blood saturated room.

Hurrying to her room as soon as he ended the call, Inuyasha quickly snapped up every picture that littered the place, breathing through his mouth so as not to be overwhelmed by the stench, although that just made him taste it faintly. The pictures were on absolutely every surface, some of them sprinkled with blood drops, whether intentionally done or not he didn’t know. Thinking quickly, knowing Myoga always managed to arrive sooner than expected, he ran downstairs and shoved all the privacy violating photos into his briefcase, determined to deal with them later.

The bell rang just as he was closing the case and he sighed in relief and annoyance. He opened the door to about half a dozen men and his assistant.

Ignoring their questioning looks, he said, “There was a suspicious man we caught taking photos of us earlier today, go and find him.”

He gave them the photographer’s description and the location where they had encountered him and immediately two of the men left to go and search.

The portly flea demon raised a brow and his moustache twitched. “You caught a ‘suspicious’ man taking pictures of you and your step-daughter and you just let him go?” he asked, barely suppressing his anger.

“He was just a human,” Inuyasha scoffed.

“’Just’ a human?!” Myoga roared, surprising them all. “Humans are capable of ‘just’ anything! How could you let him get away? You had him in your grasp. You’ve only made things more complicated for everyone, including yourself.”

Inuyasha glared at him, for once seriously and not playfully. His employee got the picture and sighed, his head drooping wearily. Myoga led the other men upstairs, leaving Inuyasha to sit down and have a drink, something small but just enough to steady his nerves. He could still hear Kagome sobbing and knocking things over in his room. Myoga knew well enough not to pry and that was his only consolation. Sitting in his favorite chair and staring into space, he listened to his lover’s sobs and screams and kicks gradually fade into nothing, knowing that she was wearing herself out. It was easier that way. About an hour after he had let the team in, they came back downstairs. Myoga coughed to get his attention.

“Er, there were no finger prints, sir. Or any other kinds of DNA. No signs of forced entry and nothing appears to be missing or moved or even touched. Whoever it was hates the Higurashi girl, that’s for sure.”

Inuyasha nodded slowly, feeling drained and wanting to withdraw. “Take everything and have it replaced exactly,” he murmured, thinking about the white room that was now mostly red. His angel’s heaven had been turned into hell.

“Yes, sir.”

He heard a couple of Myoga’s lackeys tramp back upstairs a few times, bringing Kagome’s carpets and furniture and bedding down and out the door. Inuyasha smirked, trying to find something good in all that mess. She would have to sleep with him for sure now. Sometimes she became unnecessarily (or, as he was just finding out, necessarily) paranoid and went back to her room to sleep, leaving him cold and more alone than he’d ever been.

Finally, they left, muttering their apologies and goodbyes. He sighed and stretched, not looking forward to his coming confrontation with Kagome. He hoped she’d be asleep. She hadn’t been making any noise for a while and that both calmed and unnerved him. Inuyasha made his way upstairs and to his room as slowly and quietly as he was able to, using long-forgotten techniques he had employed only when hunting in the vast forests that no longer were. Moving the table he had used to barricade the door back to its proper place, he entered the dimly lit room. Kagome was crying, had been crying. The scent choked him. She was curled up on her side on the bed, her knees against her chest, hair covering her face.

Inuyasha approached her slowly, his heart beating so loud and so strong he was afraid it would burst. Sitting down next to her on the bed, he moved the inky tendrils of hair that hid her expression from him to the side with his claws. Her face was pale, except for around the eyes where her skin was red and angry-looking. He whimpered almost soundlessly and gathered her to himself, ignoring when she pushed against him and hit his chest. Her feeble blows only made him hold her tighter, which in turn made her cry harder.

“I hate you, Inuyasha,” she said miserably.

Something in him snapped at the words and he felt his skin tingle with the rage that was rising up from deep in his gut, rage that existed before but had been dormant for a long time. Taking her chin, he sharply turned her head, forcing her to face him, to look him in the eye.

“Repeat that, Kagome,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “You what?”

Her eyes filled with new tears. “I hate you,” she said, stronger now. “You made me…” she sobbed, trailing off. “You’re terrible.”

Letting go of her chin, he pressed her face into his shoulder, smashing the delicate features into his much harder flesh. She gasped and tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. Her tears wet his shirt and their warmth made him feel sick.

“Hate me, huh?” he muttered, mostly to himself.

With a sudden strong movement, he pushed her down onto the bed. She was wearing no bra beneath the loose t-shirt she wore of his and her breasts bounced from the force. Too stunned to get up, she simply stared at him.

“You’re the one who started this, Kagome,” he said menacingly, his fingers going straight to her nipples and pinching them harder than he had ever dared in the past, making her cry out. “I guess that means you think you can end it.”

“I didn’t start anything!” she screamed, trying to move away. He pinned her with the anger in his gaze and she stopped moving, instead going completely rigid.

“Really?” he said, amused, still plucking at a nipple with one hand while the other teased her uncovered core. “It wasn’t you begging me to fuck you all those times? Touching yourself every night, whispering my name. Trying to make me jealous with that stupid boy, then parading about in slutty short skirts.”

Her eyes went wide. Kagome had never told him about her solo sessions and he smirked at her tortured, embarrassed expression.

“You bastard!” she hissed.

Inuyasha moved his fingers faster, the knowledge that she was responding to his unloving touch against her will sending dark flames throughout him.

“You hate me now, right? Even after everything I’ve done for you,” he said dangerously, his anger building the more he spoke, his touch becoming rougher with each word. “I bought you everything, took you to school and back every fucking day, touched you just how you liked it before you even knew how you liked it. And you hate me? I guess you really are a whore, then.”

He withdrew his fingers from her, just as she was on the verge of what was sure to have been a fabulous climax.

“No, no!” she screamed wildly, shaking her head, whether in opposition to his words or the absence of his touch, he didn’t know.

“I’m going for a run,” he said with a grunt, noticing somewhat absently that his hands were trembling just the littlest bit.

“No! D-don’t leave. Please don’t leave me,” she sobbed, still flushed and on her back, legs spread.

Inuyasha knew he had gone too far and he hated himself for what he had done to the frightened girl below him. It had taken him by surprise how much her words had hurt him, and for the first time he had touched her without gentleness, without devotion, without love. Turning his back to her and preparing to leave, he felt Kagome press her naked chest to him. Glancing at the end of the bed, he saw the t-shirt she had been wearing looking crumpled and sad where she had thrown it. Her arms wrapped around his middle and her face was pressed to the back of his neck. He could feel her nipples poking through the curtain of hair that ran down his back. Her tears dampened his mane and touched his skin, making him shiver.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Don’t leave me alone here. Not after everything. Please, Inuyasha.”

Placing one hand on both of hers that were clasped around his abdomen as though trying to prevent him from getting up, he turned to her.

“Kagome,” he said gently, finally seeing how miserable she looked. “Don’t cry. I-I’m sorry I said those things to you. It’s just—the look on your face when you said that, it just made me feel… Ugh,” he sighed in disgust, not for the first time cursing his lack of verbal communication skills. “It feels like it’s much easier for you to hurt me than it is for me to hurt you. It’s never been like that before for me. I’m sorry.”

Inuyasha wiped her tears and kissed her, wondering how she cried all the time yet never needed tissues. He never heard her sucking in snot, either. She was really his own delicate little angel.

Throwing her arms around him, she said firmly, “I need you in me.”

Her demand took him by surprise. Was it because he had built her up only to leave her unfinished? He knew he’d be practically forcing himself on her if she had dared do the same to him.

All the same, he said, “No, Kagome. You’ve had a very shocking night. It’s time for sleep.”

She hit him lightly on his chest with one of her fists. “No! Inuyasha, I love you,” she said seriously, almost gravely. “And you’re the only person who’s ever loved me. I need to be with you in that way to feel alright again. I won’t be able to stop thinking about everything and wondering if you still want me unless you take me right now.”

“Kagome,” he breathed, defenseless as always when she told him she loved him.

Holding out her arms to him, she whispered his name and he found himself laying her down across the bed, entering her already prepared body. “I love you,” he moaned, over and over until he couldn’t say the words anymore, only feel them.

Afterward, they lay together, her drowsing on his chest as always. Inuyasha always placed Kagome right above his heart, as he was something of a romantic although he never vocalized his poetic thoughts or drew attention to his few sappy actions.

“Oh! Before I forget…” Kagome mumbled sleepily, reaching out and rooting around under the pillow on what she called her side of the bed even though she never slept there.

“Here!” she said, handing him a necklace. The beads were made of glass, blue and white. She placed it over his head, careful of his ears, and he immediately shuddered from the not entirely unpleasant cold feeling of it around his neck.

“What’s this?” he asked lazily.

“Your gift,” she said, kissing one bead. “I’m taking glass blowing as an elective and I made this necklace for you. It took me months.”

Suddenly, the piece seemed much more interesting to him and he picked it up between two fingers, examining it. “These are very well done,” he said, resolving to praise her more when her face lit up. “They look professional.”

That earned him a kiss. “I’ve been practicing for months. I think I made enough beads to carpet the ocean floor.”

“I love it,” he said, sincerely. “And I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she said with a laugh. Their fight was long forgotten now, the shocking scene in her bedroom a disturbing but distant memory. “Thank you for the best day ever.”