InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Courtship of Kikyou ❯ The Courtship of Kikyou: Summer ( Chapter 2 )

Yeah, it took me long enough! However, here's the next chapter! Thank you, those who have read and reviewed! Makes me glad to see that people are giving this piece a chance. (No pun intended…)

The Courtship of Kikyou

Chapter 2: Summer

Between the muggy heat and the hot summer rain, Inu-Yasha was fairly sure this was the worst summer ever. The clouds blotted out the sun, but the rain did not give one a cool shower; even when the sun was blocked, rain fell in hot, thick sheets from the clouds, providing no relief for the homeless hanyou

Inu-Yasha stood waist-deep in cool water, finding it helped abate the heat's affects. He had stripped down to his fundoshi to allow his sodden clothing to dry after the last rain storm. This was pointless, perhaps, as clouds again loomed on the horizon, but at least the cool water felt good compared to the heat, and his fire-rat clothing would dry quickly.

And it served another purpose: while his clothes dried, he could fish for his dinner.

Inu-Yasha was like any other predator; standing still like the crane, watching the water. His breathing was so steady, so even, it moved with the wind rushing against the water, making it lap against his bare belly in time with the rise and fall of his chest.

And then, much like the white crane, he struck!

A clawed hand darted out and he felt a scaled body slide against his palm -- where a mortal man would have lost the fish, Inu-Yasha had extra grip; his claws, turned with their points toward his palm, became a deadly trap for the poor fish that would become his supper.

It wriggled in his hand, thick tail batting against his wrist, but he held it aloft triumphantly. So what if 'mighty barehanded fisherman' wasn't as impressive a title as Sesshoumaru's 'Lord of the Western Lands'; it kept food in his belly, where Sesshoumaru could hardly eat a lordship.

He tossed the fish to the others on the bank; they were small and it would take one or two more to satiate his hunger.

Once two more fish were caught in the same manner -- waiting eyes, darting hands, splashing water, triumphant hanyou -- he began to slosh back to the bank, eager to dry off and not feel the mud under his toe claws.

However, he hadn't expected to see the woman on the banks.

He stopped there, up to his thighs in water, soaked and holding a fish in one hand.

Kikyou, on the other hand, was dry and impeccable as always, a broad bamboo hat covering her head, held steady by one hand.

"Inu-Yasha," she greeted gently, her eyes finding his before demurely turning away.

"Kikyou," he answered with far less confidence then he had felt seconds ago, tossing fish to the bank.

For a moment, he didn't under stand why she wouldn't look at him; her gaze shyly averted. But as he felt his soaked fundoshi chill him slightly in the air, he realized she was probably uncomfortable with his near nakedness. He didn't understand why; all men, even half-demons, were built the same, weren't they?

He continued to plow through the water, heedless of the truth of her discomfort, and then to where his clothes were on the bank. He ducked behind the rock to change his clothing, the wet fundoshi discarded to dry where it couldn't be seen.

Her voice echoed over the rocks, gentle as always. "I see you have kept yourself busy, Inu-Yasha."

"Gotta eat," he replied with a snort as he finished dressing, before scrambling up onto one of the rocks to take a seat. "I didn't expect you to come out with a storm so close."

"But that's why I'm here," she said. "We are not so near the coast that we must greatly fear typhoon, but still, the rainy season is fierce this year."

She was coming to something he wouldn't like, he was sure of it.

"I was wondering if you might come to the temple while till the storming passes."

That was not what he expected. He was so stunned he nearly slid from his seat, only catching himself leaning to far forward at the last moment.

Finally, he found words.

"Did you just ask me to come and stay at the temple?" he couldn't manage to find the proper level of shock to convey.

"Yes," she said simply.

He stared at her with open bafflement; his eyes wide, his mouth agape, his ears cocked forward.

"…Why?"

"Because you would be safer there. It would only be you, my sister, and I."

For a moment, his mind completely skipped 'my sister' and thought he was being asked for something entirely different! His cheeks burned as he replayed the request in his mind, but then he remembered:

"Your sister?"

Kikyou nodded serenely, apparently not put off by his bewildered reactions.

"You have a sister?" he asked, hopping down from his perch to sit in the grass, crouching at her feet.

"Yes," Kikyou replied as she kneeled down beside him. "My only blood relative, Kaede. She and I were given to the temple to be raised as miko when we were young."

"Hmph." Inu-Yasha tried to imagine what a sister of Kikyou must be like, but he couldn't fathom it. He was nothing like Sesshoumaru, his elder brother, so why would this girl-child be anything like Kikyou? And what about Kikyou, anyway? What sort of sister was she?

"Are you good to your sister?" he asked.

Kikyou's dark eyes flickered to his and she asked, "'Good to my sister'? What do you mean?"

Inu-Yasha flushed again, this time with guilt. He'd gone and compared Kikyou to Sesshoumaru in his heart! How could he have compared the kind, lovely miko to the cold-hearted youkai?

…When had she become kind and lovely?!

Kikyou was still staring at him, confused as he looked everywhere but at her, shifting this way and that. When it became clear that Inu-Yasha was not going to answer her, she reached out to touch his cheek, garnering an instant reaction.

He froze on the spot, eyes wide and fixed on her. Again, his mouth was open, his ears turned forward, in complete shock. But he didn't move, he didn't even breathe.

She was touching him again.

She hadn't dared to do so since her hand had brushed his months ago at the day of the planting ceremony, he'd not let her get close enough until now. He'd been on his guard against that spasm in his chest that occurred whenever she was near.

But it was there again, stronger then ever.

Her fingers were warm and slightly rough from handling her bow, the fletching of her arrows. When he dared to take a breath, he found they smelt slightly of old incense, and that indefinable thing that sang Kikyou, Kikyou, Kikyou, when she trespassed in the woods he'd claimed.

No one had touched him so tenderly in his life. Her callused thumb caressed over his cheekbone in a way he was certain was intentional, and caused heat to flood his face. His heart clenched again and for a moment, he wasn't sure if he was looking into her eyes or into the night sky.

"Inu-Yasha?" her voice penetrated the haze, and he blinked his eyes, staring into her own. She was so close; he could smell that sweetness that was her, and it was stronger then the water, or the wood, or the fish getting cold on the bank. That subtle thing, incense and medicinal herbs, arrows and her skin, the fingers so rough compared to the soft curve of her face.

She said his name again, and this time his mind focused. She was touching him, and she shouldn't. He knew, at once, that the strange thing that made his heart clench, it was forbidden.

"No," he said abruptly, jerking out of her reach. "I don't need your pity. Rain won't hurt me."

She drew her hand back, uncertain in the face of his odd reactions.

Inu-Yasha rose from his crouch and stepped away from her, and he mustered up the best scowl he could give her.

"Go give your sister your time. I don't need it," he said. He rubbed his knuckles against his face, as if he might scrape away the feeling of her hand, the lingering scent that taunted his nose.

Her expression turned steely as his harsh dismissal. She rose and without preamble said, "I shall, then."

She left him and his cold fish, the storm getting closer. She'd have to boat across the lake; there were two small boats for the lake, and she's probably used one to get across.

He found himself, despite his play at anger, hoping she made it across the lake alright.

But then he was determined to not care.

He gathered up his fish and headed away. The rocky hills were seeded with many caves and hiding places, and he'd claimed one overlooking the lake for his 'den' while he was living here. Far enough from the village that the Shikon was not a constant temptation, and close enough to the lake that he could boat across if the whim took him at any time. There he began to prepare his fish as he heard the storm rumble over head. The mouth was low, while there were natural vents for air above. He'd created a small nest for himself from the tanned hides of his prey, and while it was hardly luxury, it was home for now.

It the raging thunder rolled over head; water gathered at the mouth of the cave; it trickled down the vents in the roof and Inu-Yasha stayed warm with his cook fire and his fish, eating and trying to dispel the image of Kikyou, so angry, before she left.

Who cared if she was angry? She didn't have the right to be so temperamental! He didn't want her pity or her soft hand on his face...

He snorted softly, and then shook off his thought, his eyes narrowing as he tossed the stick he'd been roasting his fish on into the fire.

"Damn woman!" he shouted at the empty air. "I don't need your damned pity!"

But it wasn't pity, some tiny voice. She doesn't look at you sadly.

His shouts died in his throat, and he slumped back against the furs he made his bed in. He folded his arms over the back of his head, and then found himself wondering if she made it across the lake in the storm.

It took at least half an hour to cross the lake. The storm had been raging that long, now, and had started right after she left. She'd been caught in it, certainly.

Something cold settled in the pit of Inu-Yasha's stomach, dispelling the contentment that had settled with his meal, and the anger that had followed.

Did she make it across? It would be simple enough to look; his cave overlooked the lake, he could look across the lake and see from one end to the other, so it was little effort to simply climb out of his warm furs and trot down to the damp opening of the cave and peer out, holding his hands over his eyes to shield them from the spray.

He saw one boat at the dock still; bobbing wildly in the wind churned water. Sweeping his gaze over the waters, he wondered how far Kikyou made it in these winds, with the water so wild.

Not very far, he surmised, when he saw the second boat capsized, midway to the other side.

Capsized.

Where was Kikyou?

That cold spread from his belly; it reached icy fingers through his veins, his guts, chilling the air in his lungs and making his extremities tremble as it sucked the heat right out of them.

Before he knew it, he was running for the dock, leaving the safety of his cave for the wild storm raging outside. He wasn't even aware of the water as it pelted his skin or the sound of his already wet haori hitting the planks as he threw it off. He dove into the water, knowing instinctively the second boat would never carry him out on the waters in the raging of the tempest.

Cold air suddenly burned in his lungs as he dove beneath the surface, where the water was less wild. He broke the surface only to breathe, golden eyes scanning the rain-beaten lake to find the overturned boat spinning in the wind. He dove beneath again and continued to swim. His clothing slowed him down, but his unnatural strength propelled him forward despite it.

Kikyou, Kikyou, Kikyou.

Something was ahead in the dark water; something red, dangling and still; white accompanied it. Her hakama, her kimono, sodden, but not sinking. He swam up under her body and then surfaced beside her.

Her head was tilted back, her face white, but she breathed. Luck had saved the miko of the Shikon no Tama, for her sleeve was caught upon the lip of the boat, keeping her head above water. But her brow was bloodied, and he was unsure how to move her.

Finally, he cut her sleeve free of the jagged lip of the boat, and took in one arm. He'd never swam anywhere with a weight, so this would certainly be different. He kept her under one arm, and then pushed the boat with them, swimming back the way he came blindly. Occasionally he had to stop, lift the boat and see that they were on the right track, but he kept going forward, making himself stay on course.

Kikyou's breathing was soft, even under the protective cap of the boat, and the cold water that had once offered relief now numbed his limbs. Still he worked, lungs burning, muscles screaming for relief.

When he finally saw the bank, he took a gulp of breath, covered Kikyou's mouth and nose with his hand, and dove beneath the water again, carrying her with him. A moment later, they surface and he plowed up the bank, carrying her with him, shifting her weight in his arms.

He didn't grab his haori from the docks; he was too busy hefting the women in his arms up the hill toward the cave; the fire still burned, though it had gotten low, and the space was still warm. He laid her down on soft earth beneath the ceiling of stone and pondered her pale form.

For a moment, he didn't know what to do.

Then he realized he had to get her out of those wet clothes. He did not hesitate at first, opening her kimomo and carefully drawing her limbs free of it, but when he found her torso wrap, he didn't know what to make of it. Of course she'd wrap and bind her breasts, like any woman, but…

He found where they tied, and propped her body in his arms; his shook from the cold and the wet, but he ignored it, removing it in haste. It was only once she was laid back down that he stopped and looked at her.

He'd never seen a woman bared.

He swallowed down the wild confusion that welled up within him at the sight of her nudity, and then continued in his work. If she froze in those wet clothes, she'd die. If she died, he'd die with her.

"Kikyou," he breathed, "Kikyou, Kikyou." Her name was called gently, through chattering teeth, and he finished with her clothes without another pause. The rest of her was just as fascinating and mysterious as the first, but there was a wrongness to seeing her inert body as anything other then damaged. He couldn't admire her beauty when she was nearly drowned and frozen to death in the cold waters of the lake. He wrung out her hair, and he hung up her clothing, but still, she was pale as death.

Once he had wrapped her body in the furs did he take care of his own, wet clothing. He stripped to bareness himself, hanging up his clothes, and stoked the fire and then sat beside the bed of furs, taking Kikyou's arm between his hands and rubbing the flesh, hoping her blood would flow, her skin would warm. He saw color begin to return to her flesh, and took hope.

He was still, however, freezing. Parts of him shriveled, the rest of him shook. Finally, he gave in. Kikyou would simply have to share her nakedness, warmth and the bed of furs with her savior.

He thanked whatever gods watched over hanyou as he burrowed into the furs, drawing her slowly warming body against his, that she'd not brought her bow and arrows when she'd come to see him.

Then, with her nestled against his side, one arm around her, he allowed exhaustion to claim him, dragging him down beneath the dark, dreaming of miko suspended in the water, floating, floating...

He would have been content to float forever, had the warmth of his bed not begun to move. He woke to an elbow jabbing him in the side, the furs sliding down his chest as his companion in warmth began to rouse.

Kikyou groaned softly, her voice thick with drowsiness, and she tried to free her arms from the heavy layers. However, she was unprepared to see Inu-Yasha propping himself up besides her, as she gasped sharply, dark eyes focusing in on his.

"Inu-Yasha?"

"Shh. You're alright," he said as gently as he could. "I saw your boat capsized, and I went out after you."

Her hands smoothed over the furs, listening despite her confusion. Then she realized that she felt skin against her own, it seemed, for she stilled when she felt Inu-Yasha's bare flesh against her arm.

"My clothes," she whispered numbly.

"They're drying with mine."

"With yours?"

"Yeah."

Inu-Yasha watched as she focused in on him a few seconds more, her cheeks flushing suddenly, before she again sank into unconsciousness.

He blinked.

That had not been an expected reaction, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been, he supposed.

He stayed beside her a while longer, enjoying the feel of her body beside his. It was nice; just soft enough, and finally warm. Allowing himself to doze, he stayed near her for some time longer, as the steady drip of rain and the crackle of the fire kept them company.

However, Inu-Yasha knew he couldn't lay idle forever; there was a fire to be tended, their clothes to be dried. While Kikyou still slept, he dragged himself free grudgingly. He staggered over to check his clothes; the fire-rat skins always dried quickly, and his other clothes seemed dry enough, so he dressed while he could. Kikyou's clothes were also nicely dried, but he allowed them to remain hanging till she woke. There was some fish left; he set that to cooking over the fire, and put more kindling on it, to keep it going.

The fish were done cooking when Kikyou moved next.

He rose from his seat as she stirred. Her eyes opened again, finding his.

"Inu-Yasha?"

"Hey." He wondered if they'd have a repeat of the last time.

It seemed unlikely, as she grabbed her blankets and tugged them closer around her body.

"My clothes," she murmured, "are they dry?"

"They are now," Inu-Yasha replied, getting up to fetch them. She took them in hand gently, and sat up slowly, holding the fire-warmed cloth to her chest.

"Can you turn around? Till I bid you otherwise?"

He blinked, not understanding at first, but then shrugged, and went back to the fire, leaving his back to the miko. He heard the rustle of clothing, the shift of the furs. She was dressing herself, he gathered, but didn't want him to see. What was the point? He'd already seen her naked.

"So you saved my life," she murmured.

He wanted to see her face, read her expression. Her sound and scent said so much, but he wanted to see it, too. See the awe dawn in her eyes, the feeling of security settle there.

"Are you…" What was the word? "Decent?"

"Yes," she finally said, and rose as he turned too look at her. Her clothing was rumpled and stained from it's long soak and it's time near the fire, but she was still Kikyou.

"You can stay until the storm passes," Inu-Yasha offered slowly.

"Pity, Inu-Yasha?" Kikyou asked him, as she moved to join him by the fire. He felt his heart clench, again, as she came within reach of his hands.

She was warm and soft, he knew that now. And he wanted to feel that again, that security he had with her body there, warming against his, that sweet heat that sank into his bones and kept him warm even though his body was wet and tired.

"No," he said, after a moment's hesitation. "I don't pity you at all."

She smiled again, without sadness, and reached up to touch his cheek again, and he bent down under its touch.

When she spoke again, he barely heard he words. Her voice was pure magic, he decided. Was it a holy spell she wove, to bind him with the gentle tones of her voice?

"Do you love me, Inu-Yasha?"

"I don't know what love is," he whispered in a rush, his hands finding her arms, as she stepped in nearer to him.

"Could you learn?" she asked. Her face eclipsed his view, its pale circle blotting out everything.

"Will you teach me?" he asked. Was that his voice, so small and timid?

"If you'll let me," she replied

His voice hitched in his chest, but then she was on her toes, her hand sliding from his cheek into his hair, his hands were sliding over her arms, to her back, holding her like he'd never held anyone before, clumsy and unsure. But she was guiding him to her, like he was as simply bent to her purpose as one of her arrows was cocked and drawn.

The kiss was small, sweet, and chaste, but it set his blood to racing. The clench around his heart tightened, and then shattered with the force of it's wild tattoo. What had been caged was released, and he didn't even realize it.

Forbidden, he realized, at the lake side. It was forbidden.

Love.

Love was the forbidden thing.

For who, indeed, would love a hanyou?

He broke away with sudden fear, his eyes wild and bright. His heart wouldn't start pounding; he almost feared that it would break free of his ribs, shatter him here and now. With a startled thrust of his arms, he drove her back from him, gulping down air into his hungry lungs as he staggered backward.

"Inu-Yasha!" she cried out, reaching for him, but he wouldn't let her close. Another touch, another spell, he'd be undone, undone and what would be left of him?

"No!" he cried hoarsely. "No! You're… you're human! This is… this is some foul trick!" he denied her, watching it shatter her hope, the face that had just been the entirety of his world crumbling before his eyes. "A trick! You can't love me! Hanyou cannot be loved by a… a miko! No one loves hanyou! NO ONE!"

He said nothing more, then, and turned to flee. His toe claws bit into the earth as his feet pushed him forward, turning and jumping down the ledge to the lower level of his cave. He bolted out into the rain, and ran blindly.

He didn't know where he was going. He just knew he had to get away. Away from that thing she was offering, that he couldn't have.

How could a miko teach a hanyou to love?

How could anyone?