InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Temporal Sequence ❯ Chapter 19

I'm rather fond of this chapter, so please be kind and tell me what you think!

 

Temporal Sequence

 

Chapter 19:

 

It was going to rain, he decided after surveying the morning skyline. It was clear and bright, but with a misty breath the wind spoke of oncoming darkness and clashing elements. It reminded him of the monk who loved the scent of rain. His name was Riku and he once told Sesshoumaru that a dog demon's sense of smell was an enviable attribute indeed. Recalling the foul scents of human villages, Sesshoumaru was inclined to disagree.

 

But now, he wasn't so sure.

 

xxx

 

It had been silent for a while now, white and black blurring his vision.

 

“Don't force me to impose a time limit.”

 

He regarded the monk for a moment, then finally placed his black stone on its destined space. Riku bit his lip as Sesshoumaru captured his piece.

 

“You're always a step ahead of me,” Riku said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

 

Riku was modest, too modest. Had he been of greater girth, then he'd have made an excellent general. Then again, aggression wasn't one of his greater attributes.

 

The monk made another thoughtless play and Sesshoumaru captured another white chain.

 

“Your play is poor. Is something troubling you?”

 

The monk smiled. “It isn't often you ask about my feelings. I feel honored.”

 

“I do not care. I simply take no pleasure in defeating a weak opponent.”

 

“How honorable of you,” he said sarcastically as he surveyed the playing board. “I'm just thoughtful today.”

 

“Your play suggests otherwise.”

 

The monk's smile grew wider. “You know, it's been almost a decade since you last came to visit me.”

 

“And?”

 

“And…I feel slighted. You're the best go opponent I've yet to find. I'll be dead by the time you come back to play with me again.”

 

It was true; Riku had aged considerably within those few years. Silver now streaked through his hair and his eyes were sagging, although their luster had yet to dim. His visits with Riku were pleasant, but he never went out of his way to visit the man. Whenever he happened to be in the vicinity, he'd stop by and that was all.

 

“Perhaps.”

 

Riku didn't look bothered. That was what he liked most about Riku. The monk was realistic to a fault, yet no matter how harsh the reality, Riku never let it bring him down.

 

“Promise me you'll visit my grave, if only once.”

 

Riku had never asked anything of him before; therefore, the request was acceptable.

 

“I will pay my respects when the time comes.”

 

“Good. I can die happy now!” Riku grinned and averted his eyes to the ivory stone wedged between his fingers. His smile faded and the air grew bitter. Riku was lying.

 

“What truly bothers you, monk?”

 

His lips formed a curious half smile. The man was always smiling.

 

“Death is what truly bothers me.”

 

“It is inevitable.”

 

“I know, but my time is short.”

 

“Are you afraid?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then quit wasting my time and make your move.”

 

He laughed then. “Always to the point. I wish I could be more like you, Sesshoumaru-sama. You fear nothing and nothing bothers you. Is it because you fear nothing that nothing bothers you?”

 

“I have all the time I need, so nothing significantly affects me.”

 

“Liar.”

 

Just because he found Riku agreeable, didn't mean he wouldn't put the man in his place.

 

“You shouldn't throw accusations around,” he warned, a bite infused into his tone.

 

Riku placed a piece on the board. “You told me once that your only regret was not killing your father's mistress. It would seem that your father bothered you a great deal. You brother has bothered you, too. More than your father perhaps? Or is it just more acceptable to hate your brother more than your father?”

 

He made his play, his eyes immediately finding the monk's. “You should watch your tongue.”

 

The monk smiled, strategically placing another stone. “Forgive me, Sesshoumaru-sama, but I am only human. We mortals tend to live for the moment, despite how hard we try to fight our nature.”

 

“I suppose it's sensible for such short-lived creatures to live as such. Opportunities would be wasted otherwise.”

 

“So true you are, Sesshoumaru-sama.” Riku paused to study the board and Sesshoumaru hoped he was done talking. The conversation was wearing on his nerves. He'd hate to harm Riku. It really was difficult to find suitable go-opponents, especially for a youkai.

 

Several plays later, Riku once again ruined his quiet reprieve. “I apologize, Sesshoumaru-sama.”

 

He should only apologize for his eternal racket, Sesshoumaru thought. “You have no need to apologize.”

 

“I took my frustrations out on you and I'm sorry for that.” He realized then that something was truly bothering the monk, which was most unusual.

 

“Speak.”

 

“Regret is getting the better of me.”

 

“I thought you lived to avoid such things.”

 

“That doesn't mean it's not going to happen. I regret the one that got away.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“A woman. I lost a woman once. I regret it and wish I would've done things differently.”

 

Men honestly spent too much time worrying over women. It was utterly ridiculous. “I have a similar regret. I once killed a woman only to learn she lived. Somehow, she got away from my poison.”

 

Riku tried to suppress a laugh. “It pains me that you say such things. But I'll let it slide, seeing as how you're jesting. At the same time, and as Fate intended, it ended up better that you didn't succeed in killing her.”

 

In Sesshoumaru's opinion, Riku believed too strongly in Fate. “Perhaps it is better then that you lost your woman,” he mocked, placing another black stone and furthering his territory.

 

“Fate does act according to a higher plan. I have accepted that, but I have my moments of remorse.” Sesshoumaru fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I've devoted my life to healing, but I always wanted a family. As you can see, that never happened. I have no one to carry on my legacy and that saddens me. Don't you want children one day, Sesshoumaru-sama?”

 

Every male that Sesshoumaru had known couldn't keep a woman. “I have no need for children or legacies.”

 

“You're a brave one, Sesshoumaru-sama. But, I think it'd be fitting if that were to be your downfall. A woman should be your undoing.” The monk placed a stone so that four of the black chains collapsed at once. “Dead, aren't you?

 

He sighed as he inspected the board, finding the outcome undeniable. The devious monk had been a step ahead of him the whole time. “Impossible. A woman tried to take me down once and failed. It won't happen again.”

 

“Did you love her?”

 

“Perhaps.”

 

The monk laughed fully this time. “That's what I love about you, Sesshoumaru-sama! So honest, but deceptively so. Maybe, maybe not—just like life. There are no definitive answers.”

 

Tired of Riku's antics, Sesshoumaru stood, intent on leaving, but Riku made one last statement before he could depart.

 

“Nothing will turn a man faster than a woman.”

 

xxx

 

He would see Riku twice more. The third time he stopped in that particular village, Riku had been long dead. A peaceful man by nature, Riku found a violent end. A group of renegade samurai attacked his village and though the village men were successful in defending their homes, Riku was one of many that paid the ultimate price of protection. He remembered feeling disappointed; he wouldn't get to play go anymore.

 

As agreed, he went to the monk's grave to pay his respects. The tomb was simple, as expected for a simple man. His epitaph was comprised of one word and that one word crept inside Sesshoumaru's chest, warming him from within. He briefly wondered if it was done on purpose to test their agreement, but found that in the end, he really didn't care about the motive.

 

Perhaps.

 

Riku was the closest thing to a friend he ever had. He placed a white go-stone on Riku's tomb. Riku was always white; he never liked going first. He always lost when he made the first move, he had said, though Sesshoumaru knew he lost his fair share when moving last as well.

 

The single-worded epitaph made him recall that particular memory, where Riku spoke of regretting the one that got away. He realized then that Riku always insisted on being white because he was a passive man, one who allowed life to pass him by. Appearances were indeed deceiving. Despite a cheery disposition, Riku was a sad man. Apparently, reality did get the better of him, but Sesshoumaru still found him admirable—his despair was a well-kept secret.

 

He couldn't get Riku out of his mind this morning. It was going to rain; Riku loved the smell of rain. Just like he loved the scent of Kagome, making him think that perhaps a dog demon's sense of smell was an enviable thing indeed. After all, a human would've never known what was happening to her last night. And as much as he wished to deny it, Kagome made him want to believe in Fate.

 

Despite that, he wondered if his apathy was making life pass him by, too.

 

x x x

 

She stole another glance of him as he sipped his broth. Everything he did was so graceful that it made her feel even more like a klutz. However, that was the least of her problems today. She couldn't sleep last night. Well, she slept, but she couldn't stay asleep. He had walked away so suddenly after her comment about his uncle that she couldn't scrap the feeling that she upset him somehow. It was unsettling, and that feeling translated into an inability to sleep.

 

She had awoken near dawn when the sky took on that beautiful shade of blue, signaling the departure of night and the break of day. It was twilight and Sesshoumaru was practicing his swordsmanship. His chest was bare and a sheet of sweat clung to him, capturing the low glow of moonlight. The sight made the air thick and her skin hot. She had long known he was beautiful, but so was Hokusai's art—and it didn't make her sweat. She realized then that he was not only beautiful, but also very, very attractive. But that still wasn't the worst of it. She had another one of those dreams. It was one of the usual, where Inuyasha said sweet things to her and coaxed her onto her back in a soft meadow, the sun setting prettily in the backdrop. This time, however, they weren't alone. Sesshoumaru was watching. And he didn't look pleased. The image of his disapproving face made her feel dirty and the mood was shot. She didn't even get to finish her dream. His face was haunting her, making her feel confused and, most of all, angry.

 

Needless to say, she was having trouble making eye contact with him all day.

 

“The conveniences of your era are simply astounding,” he said while carefully inspecting the styrofoam cup in his hand. “How is this made? It seems less natural than most of your things, with the exception of that plastic stuff.”

 

“I have no idea how it's made, and it is less natural than most man-made products. It's so artificial it's not even biodegradable!”

 

“What does that mean?” he asked, turning his eyes on her.

 

Subconsciously, and like a coward, she looked away. “It means it's not good for the environment. Styrofoam will never decay into its baser elements like most things do.”

 

“I thought you said humans were trying to be more environmentally friendly?”

 

“They are.” She still couldn't muster the courage to look at him.

 

“Then why are they continuing to create products that will compromise the integrity of the environment?”

 

“I don't know, they just do.”

 

“You've been rather short-winded today.”

 

“I'm just not feeling very talkative, that's all.”

 

“How odd. I never imagined I'd hear those words from your mouth.”

 

“Quit being a pompous jerk!” she said accusingly, pointing a finger at him. “I have moods just like everyone else!”

 

“Of that, I am aware, but at least you're looking at me now.”

 

He was right; she was maintaining direct eye contact, like she always did when feeling indignant. The fact that he pointed it out, however, infuriated her. She wouldn't be surprised if he was really telepathic and kept his power a secret so that he could flaunt his contrived superiority. She honestly couldn't get away with anything around him!

 

She responded by ignoring him and thankfully he took the hint, opting to read a biology book under the shade of a tree. He had said he was going to study biodegradation since she was `knowledgeably lacking' in that area. She didn't even care to retort his comments, instead choosing to spend the day in contemplation. She was having trouble stomaching the possibility that she was becoming attracted to Inuyasha's brother. So the rest of the day was spent in silence, until the sky darkened and the clouds collided, distantly signifying an oncoming storm.

 

She immediately set to work constructing the tiny tent she had brought from home for occasions like these, but apparently the storm wasn't as distant as she had first thought. The rain suddenly fell, soaking through her clothes with cruel immediacy. She huffed in frustration and cursed her luck. Inuyasha always warned her of oncoming rain before it became a problem. She gathered up her stuff frantically, damned the tent and opted to simply throw the main tarp over her things. However, the rain already had its way with her formerly dry clothing reserve. Now thoroughly pissed off, her attention focused on Sesshoumaru, who was conveniently zipping her biology book in a plastic baggie.

 

“Could you not smell the rain coming?” she asked mockingly. “Can't you sense these things?”

 

“I sensed it.”

 

“When?” His tone of voice was far too indifferent for her liking.

 

“I'm not sure. Morning perhaps?”

 

“Not sure? You could have warned me! I wasn't prepared for a downpour!” she hollered across the short distance, knowing he'd hear her nonetheless. She desperately hoped her volume irked him.

 

“The thought never occurred to me.”

 

If she was pissed before, then she was unnaturally infuriated now. He didn't tell her on purpose, like he knew how she'd respond, granting him with another comedic reprieve at her expense. She was getting so tired of his antics—of him. He stole a good night's rest from her, polluted her mind with ghastly thoughts, and even turned her into a coward! Feeling especially flustered and despising his recurrent advantage over her, she decided to play her only trump card. Even if he couldn't remember, the old Sesshoumaru was still lurking within him, and the old Sesshoumaru hated being bested by Inuyasha.

 

“Inuyasha always warns me of rain. I guess you're not as courteous as your brother, or maybe his senses are just better.” That would piss him off, she thought, but it wasn't like he'd do anything about it. He was too rational to act upon a feeling with no memory attached.

 

Had she known the consequences of that statement, she would've kept her mouth shut.

 

He stood slowly, too slowly. Her feet moved backward of their own accord, making her feel like cornered prey. She remembered all too well how lethal Sesshoumaru could be; he could kill her more ways than she cared to count. Fear gripped her, diligently working its way under her skin as she watched the rain beat against him, unyielding and thorough as it engulfed him. His clothes clung to him and his eyes disappeared under heavy bangs, making her trepidation grow all the more. She didn't like his rigid stance or the fact that she couldn't see his eyes. The earth was so hot that steam rose as the rain fell, a fog forming, further obscuring his body. This was the first time she had been truly afraid of him since he regained consciousness. This feeling was sickening—just like his silence.

 

He was walking toward her now, water skating across his shoulders. She took note of the breadth of his frame and her mouth ran dry. He was perfect under any context of physicality. Lean yet thick, strong and limber; every muscle was traced unforgivably, yet he looked so touchable. Her thoughts startled her and she willed herself to look away, but every movement he made captivated her, and as though spellbound, she couldn't look away.

 

Unknowingly, she stepped back again, her heels registering the presence of a tree. Before she could reposition herself, he was right in front of her. She gasped and backed away, her movement halted by sturdy bark. He was looking at her in that way that made her skin tingle. Goosebumps broke out on her arms despite the muggy air. He stepped closer and she finally summoned the courage to rip her eyes from him. Her eyes slid across his face to rest on his jaw. The muscle rolled and she knew he was going to say something.

 

“It's not wise to compare people, Kagome.” His voice was soft yet stern, almost a whisper, but not quite. She couldn't breathe, opting to focus on the line of his jaw in the hopes it'd keep her mind clear. It didn't, instead, making her want to trace it. Would it be so bad if she did? What if she traced the line of his jaw? What if…

 

Feeling flustered and especially hot, she tore her eyes away from his face. She didn't trust herself to look at him, not when his body was so close. As though sensing her dilemma, he stepped even closer, the space between them significantly lacking. Still refusing to look at him, she nearly lost her footing when he whispered in her ear, the warmth of his breath making it feel like his mouth was brushing across her. Her eyes closed and her spine shuddered.

 

“Why won't you look at me, Kagome?”

 

She fought the urge to slide down the tree and cry to herself. She begged the gods to make her disappear, if only for a minute or two.

 

“Why?” he asked again, his tone maintaining an air of quiet fascination. She couldn't take much more of this—of him. She wanted to live simply and peacefully, yet he managed to add confusion and complexity to her humble little existence. She wanted to hate him for it. She wanted him to move, damn it! That was when she realized her hands were planted on his chest. She felt suddenly detached from her own body. He was warm and she liked it, the way he felt there…

 

She shoved him away and slid between his body and the tree's trunk, running feverishly into the woods. The fog was blinding, though in her current hysteria, it really didn't matter. She couldn't see anything but his shadowed eyes. She could only hear her own labored breathing, its severity drowned by pouring rain, nature's tears masking her own.

 

She tripped over a wry root, her knees anchoring themselves in the soppy mud. Her chest ached and she cried, uninhibited, her confusion eating her alive. She never felt so confused in all her life. When her breathing calmed and her eyes stung, she was finally able to hear something other than steady rain and gasping pants. Footsteps stopped in front of her, her eyes automatically traveling upward. Anger subdued confusion as she silently cursed him for following her. He was dripping wet and silent as he watched her and she hated him for it; for standing while she knelt, for looking down while she looked up. Then, he did the most unexpected thing. He knelt before her and took off his shirt. She reined in her shock, faintly realizing that he neared her and wrapped the garment around her torso, the black fabric undoubtedly covering more of her than her translucent white one. She wanted to cry all over again.

 

He grasped her right hand and she was too tired to care. He turned it over in his own, his fingers gentle as they explored every inch of her hand. Her stomach flipped when his finger slid over her callus.

 

“I killed you once, but it seems you didn't stay dead.” Her thoughts started running in circles as his words seared her mind. He remembered her. His fingers slid down and wrapped around her wrist, her palm still unable to relax. He turned her hand over again, her fingers loosening, when suddenly he pulled her nearer, her body flanked by his knees. “I suppose I was never meant to kill a miko.”

 

She swallowed, her mouth running dry as she stared at him. She caught sight of a single droplet of water running down his shoulder. Her eyes traced it over his collarbone. She then realized he was watching her the whole time. She registered the onset of panic, its existence hurried to life when she heard the familiar pit-pat of rain beating against thin plastic.

 

She focused on her breathing, hoping to forget her bodily position, as she looked up, not terribly surprised to see Miroku standing there, a knowing smirk set upon his lips and a dark umbrella shadowing his eyes.

 

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, that unforgivable smile still plastered to his face.

 

Her eyes traveled back to Sesshoumaru, he, too, sporting an elusive half smile. Her confusion and anger died with the past then, embarrassment staking its claim.

 

They both knew, and she wanted to die because of it.

 

x x x