InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Sweetest Escape ❯ Bliss ( Chapter 22 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha, Rumiko Takahashi does.

Author's Notes: I'm so sorry I'm so late in updating! I know I haven't updated since last year (heh heh heh—never gets old) but finals were killing me! I'm proud to report, however, (if anyone even cares) that I got all A's and B's on my finals, and therefore it translates into all A's and B's on my semester grades. (not gonna lie, I was scared about AP Calc…yikes.)

Then there were the holidays…Hope everyone had a Merry Christmas! ( I don't have to be politically correct—it's my fic and I celebrate Christmas! Lol)

Anyway. Hopefully it's back to my old updating schedule.

Enjoy!

Chapter 22: Bliss

Inuyasha dropped the proper amount of change into the turnstile base of the bus, the clank of the coins echoing through the long corridor of the vehicle. He'd been the only occupant aside from an elderly, possible senile man and his sullen terrier. Hardly anyone ever rode the bus this far down the line, especially this late in the day. The driver pulled the lever that swung the doors open, and Inuyasha stepped off of the bus and shivered against the chill of the late evening as a gust of wind blew frigid winter air his way. His hands tightened into fists inside the pocket of his sweatshirt.

His heartbeat quickened ever so slightly as the rows and rows of gravestones came into his line of sight. He wasn't afraid. But the thought of being surrounded by corpses wasn't exactly comforting. The wrought iron gate groaned raucously as he pushed it open, the sound reverberating a number of times through the desolate field of stones. Treading carefully, Inuyasha walked for what seemed like hours until he reached the tiny plot on the edge of the land, just under a sweeping willow tree, bare of leaves and full of dark crows. He sighed at the task that had to be done; like so many other stones in the yard, this one was tagged with the indecipherable symbols of graffiti, caked with moss and mud, and splattered with bird dung. Unlike so many other stones, it was painstakingly maintained every so often by someone who cared.

Inuyasha crouched by the tall stone, shrugging his backpack off and retrieving the cleaner fluid, paint scraper, and cloth from its pouch. He first set about to chiseling off the mounds of moss and dung that had accumulated atop the stone, taking care not to chip the rock itself. He then poured cleaner onto his cloth and tenderly wiped the paint from it, being sure to wipe inside the engraved symbols that spelled her name.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered. He pulled out a small bottle of stone polish. “I'm really really sorry…I know I haven't come to visit in a long time…I'm sorry,” he apologized profusely. With a fresh cloth, he began to buff the granite in slow, firm strokes from top to base. “It's just that everything is so…so…great. Yeah. Everything is so great now. I know, that's not an excuse. Still. That's a big part of why I haven't come…” Golden eyes flicked across the expanse of the rock as he worked, as if seeking some sort of pardon from the stone. The granite stone, hard and cold sat silently, unresponsive, unforgiving. He was contrite.

“Please don't be mad…” he begged. “It's been what…two months? I think that's about right—Kami, that's bad. But don't be mad at me, please? I'm kind of…I'm kind of feeling good about everything. Mostly everything. And I think…I'm pretty sure that the last couple of weeks have been the best in a really long time,” Inuyasha said softly.

A soft smile tugged at his lips. His hands continued to work at their task. “I'm goin' to college, Ma,” he whispered with barely contained excitement. “I got…a scholarship that pays for everything. Tuition, room and board, books and fees—everything.” He paused, thinking about that day when Gamyuo Oichi had called upon him in order to `talk business' at his elaborate estate. Conditioning and life experience taught him that he must be careful to whom he dealt out his trust. For this reason, he was still quite skeptical of Gamyuo Oichi's offer. His inherent and unyielding skepticism had to take a backseat however when the man had extended the invitation to his home in order to `get to know him a little better'.

“He doesn't exactly like me, per say—the one who gave me the money—but I don't care. He can hate me for all I care, just so long as he gives me the money.”

Inuyasha clutched the tiny scrap of paper in his gloved palm as he stared goggle-eyed at the property before which he stood. He really really wished that Kagome and her mother hadn't simply booted him out of the car with nothing but Mr.Oichi's address and his canvas bag. `What now?' he thought.

“May I help you?” a tinny-sounding voice crackled from a small speaker embedded in the brick pillar he hadn't before noticed. He neary jumped out of his skin. “Press the button to respond,” the voice prompted flatly, as though it were aware he hadn't a clue what to do. With a grimace, Inuyasha pushed the small rectangular button beneath the box.

“Um…I'm Inuyasha Chikamatsu—I'm here to see Mr. Oichi?” he explained uncertainly.

“The painting kid?”

“Um…sure.”

The gates slowly swung open with an ear-piercing groan, and Inuyasha started his way up the drive, picking his way gingerly along the icy cobblestones. It was all he needed to slip and have an arm or leg go crashing through one of his pieces; it would be just his luck.

He passed an out-of-commission fountain, grandiose and elaborate, placed right in the middle of the vast courtyard that lay in front of the expansive house. Inuyasha pressed the ornate doorbell, which sounded hollow within as he studied the grain of the highly polished, deep mahogany twin doors, with their brilliant gold accents. He was surprised that Gamyuo answered the door himself; he'd been expecting a servant of some sort.

“Welcome, Inuyasha. I'm glad you could make it,” he greeted amiably, stepping back to allow him entry.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“It's of no consequence,” he said quickly, brushing off his thanks. “You may leave your jacket there on the table. Yumi will take care of it,” he instructed. “You may come with me.”

Inuyasha did as he was told and shrugged out of his sweatshirt, an inadequate barrier against the cold anyway, and followed Gamyuo as he traveled leisurely through a maze of ornately decorated corridors. Inuyasha perused the trappings and fixings of the hallways, the intricately painted vases on what Gamyuo said were hand-carved tables and curio cases. His feet almost sank into the plush carpet as he padded along after the man.

“What do you say we have a light lunch, and then we'll talk business, hm? Sound good?”

“Yes,” Inuyasha said gratefully; he was starving.

Gamyuo led him into an enclosed porch-like structure, lit with the gray rays of sun filtering in through the giant windows that framed the picturesque snowy hillsides of his property. A small table was already set with fine silverware and antique-looking plates, impossibly fresh flowers spilling out of a clear vase in the center of the table.

Gamyuo sat in the seat closest to the door through which they'd entered, motioning for Inuyasha to do the same. Inuyasha propped his bag against the leg of the table near his seat and awkwardly sat down.

“Where is your sister?” Gamyuo asked, just as a group of three solemn, uniformly dressed men brought in three uniform silver trays with various dishes on them.

“My sister?” Inuyasha parroted with a squint.

“Yes, and your mother. Did they decide not to join us today?” he asked as he fixed a plate for himself. Inuyasha's brow wrinkled in confusion as he tried to formulate an answer. “Are you confused?” Gamyuo prompted after the boy's lack of response.

“I don't know where—”

“Perhaps she's your half-sister, what with the different last names and all—the two dark-haired women at your house. Are you still confused?” Gamyuo spoke slowly, as if Inuyasha were slow.

“Oh! Oh…” Inuyasha exclaimed, realizing the error. “She—Kagome's not my sister…” he started with a blush.

“Oh, really? Hm. Then who is she?”

“She's my…you know,” Inuyasha shrugged, giving the man a leading look. Gamyuo looked at him blankly, and Inuyasha had the feeling that he did know, but only wanted him to say it. “She's my girlfriend,” he muttered embarrassedly. “And Mrs. Higurashi is her mom.”

“Ah, I see.” Gamyuo nodded knowingly. “How…cute,” he said, if Inuyasha wasn't mistaken, in a bit of a teasing tone. “If she's of no blood relation to you, then why do you share a residence?”

“We don't.”

“Then I'm confused,” he said flatly as he spread butter on a roll. “If you don't share a residence, then why is her address listed as yours? That is the address that you listed as your own when you applied for the competition, is it not?”

“Well, see, it's kind of complicated…”

“I'd be interested to hear in any case.”

“Kagome entered me. I mean, she was the one who sent the picture in and filled out my application form,” he explained. Gamyuo eyed him skeptically before biting into his bread with relish.

“Okay. Okay, I see where this is going. Well then. I'd like to meet with your parents, Inuyasha. Don't you think they should be involved at some point? I thought you'd have the sense to bring one of both of them with you to day, but I suppose that was a bit presumptuous of me…” he trailed off, shaking his head. Inuyasha bristled a bit at that barb, but ignored it otherwise. “When do you think the adults could meet, hm? Face to face.”

“You can't,” Inuyasha answered bluntly. Gamyuo looked taken aback at his sudden abruptness.

“Why not?” he asked, just as blunt.

“Because my mom is dead, and my dad won't come.” Gamyuo raised an eyebrow as though asking for more information. “It's no joke, and I'm not exaggerating. My dad won't come no matter what I say. He doesn't like me, I don't like him, and he won't care what happens to me after high school. He hardly cares what happens to me right now.”

“Hm.”

“This is the only chance I've got,” he said, motioning to the table, yet meaning Ganyuo's offering. “For a real future, I mean. There's no way I'd earn any money any other way. Not for college. Not for me.” Gamyuo studied the earnest boy across the table from him, the youth not having yet touched his food. His fists sat clenched on the table on either side of his plate, and he had a fierce, determined, yet desperate expression on his face.

“Okay. Alright, I understand. I get what you're telling me,” he nodded. He smiled a bit and allowed himself a chuckle at the boy's impassioned insistence before he turned serious. “I must tell you, however…a large part of college success depends on a student's support system. There are very few students that last without some type of fallback person. On top of that, I've done some investigating, and…your grades…well, suffice it to say that they leave something to be desired. Needless to say, I don't want to invest such a sizeable amount of money into someone who is set up to fail…what do you have to say about that?”

Inuyasha thought for a moment and chose his words carefully.

“I know…I know that I'm not exactly a prime student or anything…and it's hard. But I've…I've lasted for a long time on my own…I…I don't have a real family or anything, but…I've got me. That's all I've had for a while, is just me, and I think…I think that I can do it. I've just been needing a chance—to prove that, and—”

“Okay, okay, boy. No need to sell yourself too much. I'm convinced,” he chuckled, patting his lips with his handkerchief. “So. This girl is very important to you, then?”

“Yes, very much.”

“Then where is she now?” Inuyasha grimaced and sighed.

“Shopping.”

Gamyuo was kinder to him that Inuyasha had expected him to be. After they'd eaten lunch, he'd taken him on a tour of his grand home, from the grand bedrooms that, in Inuyasha's opinion served no purpose, to the greenhouses, to the stables. Just when he was feeling overwhelmed, inadequate, and quite small, the man led him into his art gallery, so extensive and vast that he'd had an entirely different building constructed for it.

Inuyasha had gaped at the portraits and landscapes that covered the walls from ceiling to floor. It was an entire museum in one room. He felt as though he and his art couldn't live up to the greatness before him. His fears had quickly dissipated when Gamyuo tugged his canvas bag away from him, reaching into it like a starving man into a pot. His eyes ran greedily over the pieces Inuyasha had brought, and after a few tense moments, he quite loudly approved, sending Inuyasha spiraling into relief and embarrassed pride.

He'd even gone so far as to take him to a bank and help him set up an account, teaching him on the way how to balance his finances and write a check, all the things he'd never been taught but needed to know. They'd discussed school choices as well. Rather, Gamyuo Oichi had recommended schools, and Inuyasha respectfully yet firmly declined. The only school he was interested in was Tokyo University; Kagome had just received her acceptance letter in the mail a few days ago, and that was the only place he wanted to go.

“You know, um…Kagome—I told you about her before—she says she's really proud of me,” he grinned. He shook his head, the little bit of disbelief that lingered causing him to raise his eyebrows. “The thing is…I…I'm starting to be really proud of me too.”

The wind howled through the branches of the willow tree, biting at the skin of his cheeks. He pulled his hood onto his head, shrinking down into the jacket. He was suddenly wishing he'd worn about three more shirts.

“So it's Christmas Eve,” he began. “I'm, um…I'm supposed to be at Kagome's house right now…I'm really late. I'm always late. But…I couldn't go and spend time with my second family before I came to see my first tonight,” he said earnestly. “Merry Christmas, Ma…I really miss you. I…I really wish you were here…You know…for the first time in a long time I really think…I really think that you'd be proud of me if you could see me.” He got choked up, only for a second. He struggled to swallow the lump that had spontaneously formed in his throat.

“Look at this,” he chuckled, shaking his head and sniffing. “I don't wanna get all sad tonight. Kagome'll notice. She always does. And she'll ask me what's wrong, and she won't shut up until I tell her,” he laughed. He sobered quickly, clearing his throat before he continued. “I should go. I just wanted to let you know that I'm okay. I'm really okay.” He reread the hard characters engraved in the granite for the umpteenth time. “I hope you are too,” he whispered.

He lifted three fingers to his mouth, quickly pressing them to the cold granite face. “Love you,” he mumbled, almost silently. He made his hurried exit.

His gift weighed heavily in his pocket, despite its slight size, and rubbed against his thigh with every shift he made in his seat, a constant reminder of what he was going to do at the first given opportunity.

`She probably thinks I don't have anything for her,' he thought to himself. He could tell; that was exactly what she thought. Sure, she was trying to hide it, but every once in a while, when she would glance over at him with that little look on her face while holding one more fabulous present from another, he could see it. It made him feel bad. Especially since what she thought wasn't true.

He'd only just arrived no more than ten minutes ago, and it was late into the evening. He would have spent the night Christmas Eve, but the Higurashis had family to visit, and he surely didn't want to go through any overly awkward situations. The family had kindly assured him that they would wait to open presents until he got there, so that he wouldn't miss a thing. He was certain that they all knew how significant being able to spend Christmas with them was; why else would they wait for him? He appreciated it greatly.

Inuyasha looked around the homey little living room, all decked out in the trimmings of Christmas. Souta was busy playing with the numerous toys he'd received as Mrs. Higurashi and her father watched on from the sofa he sat on as well, grinning with pride at every cry of excitement from the child, their attention occasionally drifting to the television. Kagome flitted around the room, snapping photos as usual. A flash blinded him momentarily and he blinked hard to clear them, opening them to see her beaming back at him before she took off to capture another memory.

A real holiday celebration. He sighed as he glanced around the room for the umpteenth time, his gaze lingering on the gaily decorated tree, the shining ornaments winking merrily at him. The sweet scent of pine laced the air, and he now knew why it had lingered when he'd celebrated New Year's Eve with them the previous year. The freshly cut tree that Kagome, Souta and he had retrieved from the nearby forest two weeks prior perfumed the air and shone with the colored lights they'd strung about its boughs.

He'd tried to act as though the entire event was no big deal; he felt that he'd failed miserable at that. He didn't know why he tried to act nonchalant. It had been so long since he'd had a real Christmas. In his house, it was only recognized as Christmas by the numbered box on the calendar. Aside from that, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and that night were the only times out of the year that Inuyasha could be almost positively sure that his father would be out of the house. Any other time it was a gamble.

Inuyasha hadn't known that any place would be open through the holidays, but once more proving his complete and utter lack of any sort of propriety or reverence for the holidays, his father had managed to fine some dive in which to lose himself for the night.

“Are you listening? You dumbass, I said are you listening?” his father snapped, thumping him soundly on the back of a tender ear. Inuyasha yelped and grabbed the offended appendage.

“Yes, Sir, I'm listening,” he hissed in pain, rubbing his ear between his knuckles.

“I said I want the entire house spotless,” he emphasized. He rummaged through the kitchen drawers, tossing out various envelopes, billing statements, receipts and junk mail. Finally he pulled out a long string of gold foil squares, small rings bulging out against the shrink-wrapped paper. Inuyasha blushed and had the good grace to turn away. “I want the sinks bleached out, the laundry in my room cleaned—I want a clean sweep of everything. Gotta start the new year off right, and you'd better start now,” he instructed, tucking the string of squares into his jacket pocket.

“How long will you be gone for?” Inuyasha asked without thinking. He winced and bit his tongue. He'd only wanted to make sure the man would be absent so that he could get on with his own plans. Taishou paused in shrugging into his jacket and eyed his son hard.

“What kind of question is that? Why?”

“I, um…I was just wondering,” he said quickly.

“What were you wondering for, you smartass little shit?” Inuyasha sighed exasperatedly, frustrated. His father made no sense; one minute, he was calling him a dumbass, the next, he was calling him a smartass. He shook his head, wishing he'd never opened his big mouth.

“Just so…so I could know how much time I have. To clean the house, I mean. So I can manage my time,” he lied. He congratulated himself internally; that was a pretty good one.

“Don't fucking worry about it. You just get the shit done. This place is a fucking sty, and if it's not done when I get back, you trust me, you'll feel it,” the man threatened. That was the only thing Inuyasha trusted his father to do, was make him `feel it'. It was all he'd ever done. Taishou finished adjusting his jacket and whipped the front door open, allowing cold air from the outside to mingle with the cold air inside, slamming it shut behind him. Inuyasha watched him scrunch his hulking figure into the little put-put of a car, the vehicle shifting down on one side with his added weight.

“May you get into a fatal car accident,” he muttered hatefully under his breath. Even with the man actively driving down the block, Inuyasha still was prickled by the thought that he could somehow hear him.

“Inuyasha,” Kagome whispered, suddenly in his ear. He jumped, surprised, turning on the couch to face her.

“Yeah?”

“Come upstairs with me,” she urged, tugging gently on a piece of his hair. “Come on, while everyone's distracted.” Inuyasha glanced at the rest of the Higurashi clan, their attention diverted to the stockings that hung over the fireplace. He surreptitiously slipped off of the couch and slunk out of the room behind Kagome.

She grabbed his hand as soon as they were at the stairs, smiling as she started to run. He grinned cluelessly and jogged after her as she darted into her room. She gently pressed the door shut, turning the small lock with a tiny click. She smiled secretly, mischievously as she passed by him to cross the room, grazing her finger down his arm.

“What?” he smiled, turning to follow her with his eyes.

“I wanted to give you your present,” she said simply, pulling out a long wrapped box. “I didn't want to give it to you downstairs. It's kind of personal. And embarrassing,” she added as an afterthought. Inuyasha cocked an eyebrow, intrigued now. He ripped into the paper without hesitation, popping the top of the box open.

His jaw dropped and he stared at Kagome incredulously. She stared back with wide, innocent eyes, leaning against her desk, her thumbs twiddling.

“You…you got me boxers?” he asked. “With…with lips on them?” He lifted the material out of the box, staring at it with disbelief. “And…and they're silky…”

“I expect to see you in them,” she said seriously, giving him an almost stern look. “And nothing else.” Inuyasha was speechless, bowled over, thrown for a loop. Kagome burst out laughing suddenly, bent over with the force of her guffaws.

“The look on your face!” she managed to exclaim. “You looked so shocked!” She crossed to stand in front of him, and took the box out of his hands, tossing it to the floor. Her hands tugged at the boxers, waving them in front of his face teasingly. Inuyasha let out a deep breath of relief, allowing himself to chuckle a bit, giving her a disbelieving look.

“Here,” she said, pulling a sleek black book tied with a red ribbon tied around it from behind her back. She was still giggling a bit. “This is the real gift. The other was more of a joke,” she explained needlessly. “Unless of course…you want to wear them for me…” she added leadingly. His dark brows shot up into his hair.

“…Seriously?” he choked. She shrugged and gave him a coy look.

“I wouldn't complain…” she informed him. Inuyasha blushed and turned his head, his thoughts heading south. “What?” she pushed playfully.

“If…if I wear only underwear…you've gotta do the same thing,” he mumbled almost silently. He dared to sneak a look at her, and she seemed to be considering this.

“Deal.” He studied her skeptically, and could find no teasing or laughter on her face. He exhaled slowly, unsure of how to respond to that. “But that's fun for another day,” she said quickly. “Go ahead an open it,” she urged.

Inuyasha turned his attention back down to the little book in his hands, sitting down on her bed, opening the front cover. She settled down beside him, reading over his shoulder. `Coupons' it read in swirling characters, sweeping across the creamy colored page. He frowned in confusion.

“Just keep looking,” she prompted, seeing his frown. Turning the page, he understood. It was photo album…of coupons. On the left hand side, there was a picture of Kagome, her arms wrapped around herself, beaming at the viewer as usual. The opposite page read `Good for One Hug.'.

“You see?” she asked, leaning into him. He grinned, flipping the page. There was a picture of his ears, opposite of the sentence `Good for One Ear Rub.'

“Only one?” he asked in mock-disappointment.

“We might have to amend a few of them,” she admitted with a smirk. The next page depicted her puckered lips, its coupon reading, `Good for One Kiss'.

“Now this is a good one,” he said enthusiastically. “You know we've got to change that one.”

“How about…one very intense makeout session?” she suggested playfully.

“That's more like it,” he announced, nodding with satisfaction. “Very nice picture by the way,” he added. She kissed his nose.

“You like it?”

“It's great,” he said honestly.

“There's lots more in there,” she pointed out, pecking his lips one more time. She stood, starting to move towards the door. “So check them out. I'm gonna just run and get an extra roll of film, okay? I'll be right ba—” Inuyasha leaned across the bed, reaching out and grabbing her wrist before her hand could touch the knob.

“Wait—” he blurted. She frowned, smiling a bit in confusion.

“What? I'll be right back, I just—”

“I know…Just, um…don't go.”

“Why?”

“It…it's my turn.” Her brow wrinkled.

“You're turn to what?”

“To give you your present,” he wheezed. It was just now that he was beginning to think that maybe he couldn't quite give the little speech he'd summed up in his head.

“Aw, Inuyasha,” she said, a slow smile starting to spread on her lips. “I didn't think…you didn't have to do that,” she told him.

“Yes…yes I did…” he stammered. She waited expectantly. “So, I…You, um…” He trailed off, looking up at her from his seat on her bed. “Could you—could you sit down? I just, um…yeah,” he stammered.

“Okay…” she said slowly. “Are you alright? You're all rushed all of a sudden.”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm good,” he brushed off. His hands dove into his pockets and clenched into fists. “So…I didn't want to—rather, I figured you were probably sick of all the portraits—”

“No, I'm not!” she insisted. “I love them, Inuyasha. I'd never get sick of them,” she assured him. “Besides, you've only given me that first one, and then the one a month and a half ago for my birthday. Oh, and the one that's got my mom and your mom in it. Only three,” she ticked off. He grimaced.

“Yeah, well…still. I wanted to give you something different…but…well, you know I don't have a lot of money. If I got you something off the money Totosai gives me it'd be really cheap and…anyway. So it's not new…it's really old, actually…” he reflected. “And I know you don't normally wear this kind of stuff, and I really don't even know if it'll fit, and I know it's not your favorite color or anything, but…” he babbled, finishing what he thought was a necessary disclaimer. He snatched his hand out of his pocket and slapped the small object flat on the bed, quickly yanking his arm back to fold it and its twin across his chest.

“Here,” he grunted, an intense blush painting his cheeks rosy. There was absolute silence in the room, save for the noise of springs crunching as Inuyasha agitatedly bounced his leg up and down. He braced himself and dared a quick glance at her. Her widened eyes were immovably fixed on the tiny silver band that sat innocently on her quilt. The line of three brilliant, square-cut topaz stones winked in the dim light. He felt embarrassed all over again just looking at it; surely she wouldn't want some old castoff? He hadn't a thing to wrap it with. He didn't have one of those tiny velvet boxes like all the men had on the jewelry commercials, and doubted that a store would sell him a box alone if he asked. So he'd taken a length of red ribbon from a bow on one of Souta's presents and tied it to the ring. He grimaced, wishing he hadn't done that. It looked stupid.

His mind wandered back to earlier that day, when he'd stopped at his flat in order to retrieve the ring.

Stretching his arm as far as it could go, his claws suddenly caught on a chink in the wooden box that he knew was hidden in the hole in the wall. He always had to be very discreet with that hole; if Totosai knew about it, he'd have a fit. He would have also probably tried to strip Inuyasha of the valuables stored in it as well. So Inuyasha made sure that his rack of canvases more than adequately disguised the place where the drywall crumbled in, making a perfect little cove for his treasures.

He flexed his fingers slowly, bringing the box closer so that he could wrap a hand around it. Finally he managed to maintain a firm grip, and pulled the simply carved wooden box from its hiding place. He sneezed loudly as bits of crumbling drywall managed to enter his sensitive nose. `Great,' he thought dryly, seating himself cross-legged. `Now I'm fucking snotting all over the place. He sniffled and wiped the dust from the top of the box with his sleeve, exposing the curlicue design that covered the top.

The lid creaked as he opened it, and he was careful to make sure that the weight of it didn't snap the delicate hinges off. It was a very old box. He'd already inadvertently chipped some of the varnished glaze off of a corner. In his mad dash to pack as the social worker was rushing him away from his home, he'd run into his mother's room, desperate to take something of hers; he'd accidentally knocked it against the edge of her dresser, exposing the meat of the wood. It had been the only thing he could grab.

It had been a long time since he'd gone through the contents of the box. The last time, he'd been fourteen, and in the midst of one of his `runaway nights', sleeping on the few sheets he kept in the loft. Everything was in almost the exact position that he'd left it. His mouth gave way to a nostalgic smile. The seemingly innocuous prism of wood held all that he had to remember his mother by.

His fingers sifted through the thick stack of pictures that she'd kept in there for some unknown reason. Pictures of her when she was in high school and college, a photo of her parents, his grandparents, he supposed. Biologically at least. He'd never met the people. They'd never wanted to meet him. There were several pictures of him: when he was a baby, a toddler, his elementary school photos, and everything in between. She even had a picture of them together, laughing mirthfully as she laid a big kiss on his cheek. His heart clenched, his eyes stung, and he found he had difficulty swallowing and breathing, and it had nothing to do with the cloud of dust he was surrounded by. Now he remembered why he didn't often sift through that thing.

He moved the photos to the side, exposing the rest of the box's contents, scattered haphazardly against the red velvet that lined the inside. As he reached inside, his fingers brushed against a silky material, tucked securely under a tiny ledge on the edge of the box. He pulled it out, knowing just what it was. The light teaberry pink scarf was soft and slid easily across his fingers. His mother used to wear it tied around her ponytail, or around her crown like a headband. He remembered stuffing it in the box at the last second, wanting something that held her scent. A bit embarrassed at the urge, but giving in to it anyway, he lifted the cloth to his nose and took a quick whiff; it was so faded—eight years had been cruel to the sweet aroma it had once held. Even still, he could catch a slight trace of her, and it made him ache. He stuffed it back.

Finally he located what he was looking for, a tiny silver circle in the corner. He picked it up, inspecting it, and buffed it with the cuff of his shirt until it shone.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, sitting beside her as she just stared at it, he wondered if he should have selected one of the other pieces his mom had owned, or if Kagome simply didn't want a dead woman's relics.

“It…it, um…it was my mom's…” he began uncomfortably. She still did not speak. “I'm sorry…I just thought…I mean—she used to wear it all the time. She said…she said it was the kind of ring every girl dreamed of having, so I just thought…” he left off leadingly. “I just thought you might…you know…”

He sighed miserably. He certainly hadn't been expecting it to go like this. There was no way he could finish his little plan now…

“I'll get you something else…if you want, I could do another—”

“You want…you want me to have this?” she asked finally, her voice shaking and full of disbelief. Inuyasha was startled.

“If…if you want it…” he answered uncertainly. “Do you? Do you want it? Do you even like it?”

“Inuyasha…this is…this is so beautiful…it's perfect,” she breathed. He felt the stress and tension seep out of him quicker than air out of a punctured tire.

“Holy shit, Kagome! I thought you hated it,” he hissed. “Fucking scared me—”

“Inuyasha, it's so important…are you sure you want to give this to me? I don't know if I can—”

“No, no, no, don't say that!” he exclaimed. “Don't say you can keep it. I want you to keep it, Kagome.” He smiled. “It's simple, yeah? So…so maybe it fits you?” he asked. She gave him a shaky smile in return, nodding. “You wanna wear it? Can I put it on you?”

“Yes,” she choked out. He picked up the small piece of jewelry and held her right hand in his own. Taking a guess and hoping that remembered correctly, he selected her fourth finger, and smiled when it slipped on easily.

“See? Perfect fit. It suits you…you were meant to wear it,” he murmured, still tenderly cradling her hand in his. Impulsively, he lifted her trembling fingers to his lips and pressed a long, soft kiss to the knuckle just under the band. She laughed, and it sounded suspiciously like a half-sob.

“Inuyasha…it's too much—I can't take your mother's ring. It's beautiful, and perfect, and so so sweet, and I love it, I do. But can't just take it—”

“You're not taking it. I gave it to you,” he pointed out. “What am I gonna do with it anyway? It's a bit feminine for me,” he joked. She smiled slightly but didn't laugh. “It looks much better on your finger than just sitting in some box collecting dust.” Kagome shook her head, smiling disbelievingly. He bit his lip, thinking that if he didn't take the plunge now, he might never get the chance or the nerve again.

“It's not too much, Kagome,” he said quietly. “Not for you. I mean, I know it's a lot—I mean, the symbol anyway, or whatever. But…it's not too much for you, because…because it's what I want to give you,” he said earnestly.

He calmed himself with a deep breath before continuing and letting go of her hand. “And I know it's okay. I know it's okay, `cause…`cause if my mom was alive, I know she would have loved you. Almost…almost as much as I l-love you…” His heart galloped at a pace so rapid, it threatened to burst through his ribs. It was sending so much blood to his face that his head was throbbing and his feet and hands were starting to tingle from lack of ample circulation. Still, he'd promised himself and made a silent promise to Kagome that he would be honest and straightforward, and was going to try to do just that.

“I really can't help but love…you, Kagome. `Cause you…give me more than I could ever hope for. You're everything that…I'm sure every guy wishes for in…in a woman. You treat me and everyone, really, with this…this enormous amount of respect and dignity…and…and I admire you for that—I thank you for that.”

“I'm…I'm grateful to you for a lot of stuff…You made me feel again. And I…I didn't think I could do that anymore. But you've…shown me how to do it, taught me again. You've shown me so much—made me try things that I wouldn't normally `cause I was afraid. You opened my eyes to so much, and…feels like…it feels like I'm seeing stuff for the first time, seeing things better, `cause you've…shown me how to look on the bright side of things when I thought there wasn't one.”

“Not to mention, I've…smiled and laughed more than I ever thought was possible for me,” he added with a wry smile and a chuckle. “`Cause…just with you there's so much more to smile and laugh about. And…you've given me a family. You share yours with me every day I come over here, and…you have to know that that is so…huge to me…”

Finally tearing his gaze away from his wringing hands, he looked at her face, hoping that alone wouldn't force him to lose his nerve. It certainly didn't help. She was looking at him as thought he'd just wounded her, her lips parted, brows drawn upward into a frown. He had no idea what to make of that face, but it wasn't positive, he suspected. He had to finish. He was too far in now.

“You give and give and give to me, and I don't think I can ever…ever fully repay you. You…you may not have known it but you saved my life. You saved me from m-myself, and…I don't know exactly how to repay that debt, but I…I love you for it…” he finished. She was so silent. He couldn't even hear her breathing.

“And now, I have probably screwed absolutely everything up,” he chuckled nervously. “You are looking at me like I am an absolute fool, and…I'm s-sorry.” He opted to try and fix the situation that, to him, looked as though it were on its way to spiraling out of control.

“It's okay…if you don't feel…that. I'm alright with that,” he lied. He was heartbroken. All he'd wanted for Christmas was for her to say those words back to him. “I know you like me—that's good enough for me. I just wanted…to…to let you know that…that you mean the world to me. And that you're my best friend, and that…I wish I had more to offer you. I wish I had more to give…`cause I would…I'd give you all that I had to off—”

Kagome all but launched herself into his chest, squeezing an `oof' out of him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on tight.

“Inuyasha,” she sobbed. He winced. She was crying. Or beginning to. He could smell the tang of salt wafting from her. “Inuyasha…”

“Kagome…” he began. He hesitantly lifted his arms around her ribcage and patted her back. “Kagome, I said it was alright—”

“No! No…” Her grip tightened. “No, `cause I love you,” she whimpered. For the second time that night, relief hit him like a sack of hammers, and the throbbing in his skull increased tenfold at her words. He found himself hugging her back just as fiercely, and having to remind himself to loosen up on his grip; he could seriously hurt her if he wasn't careful.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his voice weak and coming out in a jumbled rush. “Say it again, Kagome. Tell me again.”

She pulled out of his tightly locked arms, having to fight the bit of resistance he put up. Inuyasha didn't think she'd ever looked so deeply into his eyes, and he fought to find his breath. Her hands traveled up either side of his face, rendering him immobile with such simple touches. Her face was shiny with tear tracks, as he knew it would be.

“I love you, Inuyasha Chikamatsu. I love you so much,” she whispered. He couldn't stop himself he fell forward onto her, his cheek against the soft cushion of her breasts, his temple pressed just above her heart. Her arms wrapped around the girdle of his shoulders, cradling him as though he were a child.

“Kami,” he whimpered. “No one's…I haven't heard that in so long…no one's said that to me in…in eight years,” he whispered, more to himself than to her.

“Let me make up the time,” she murmured gently. Soft fingers ran through his scruffy bangs, and she kissed his hairline. “I love you.” Her nails scraped gently against the back of each of his wildly waving ears, followed by the warm, moist pucker of her lips. “I love you.” She pulled his face up to hers and mapped it with kisses, murmuring her love for him after each one. Inuyasha returned her ardor enthusiastically, pressing himself into the soft warmth of her body, exhilarated by their actions, her words, his good fortune. His hands dipped into the ink black abyss of her hair, the tips of his claws grazing her scalp, eliciting little sighs of contentment that he just couldn't get enough of.

His hands began to travel, their mouths still hotly connected, pulling and drawing on one another. His fingers danced over the supple skin of her neck, caressed her shoulders and tickled her back. Kagome groaned into his mouth as his hands gently massaged her through the slippery material of her top. Suddenly she gasped, pulling Inuyasha out of his haze. With his mind cleared and his eyes open, his mind was able to alert him to the fact that one of his hands were out of place. He gasped himself, snatching the offending appendage away from where it had been lying against the outer curve of her left breast, and apologizing profusely.

“I'm sorry! Shit, Kagome, I'm sorry!”

“Inuyasha,” she said softly.

“I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to—” Kagome rolled her eyes and pushed a finger to his rapidly moving lips.

“Inuyasha, it's okay,” she assured him. He didn't look convinced. Grabbing both of his wrists, she slowly moved them to the top button of her shirt. He inhaled, held it, and became very still, his intense eyes piercing at that spot. “It's okay. Really.”

“You want me to—I should unbu—” She nodded to the questions he was unable to finish. She smiled inwardly as his high cheeks darkened and he pressed his lips together firmly. His hands shook so much that she could feel it as he fumbled with the top button, finally managing to pop it open. Inuyasha's mouth had gone dry, and he decided that perhaps he should refrain from kissing her for the time being.

It wasn't that he and Kagome hadn't done their fair share of making out. They'd done plenty of `heavy petting', as Kagome sometimes called it. Though he wasn't sure why. There was no `petting' involved. There was plenty of kissing, sucking and licking, even a bit of playful biting on his part, but there was definitely no `petting'. That wasn't the problem. `Well…not exactly a problem,' he thought. While they'd kissed heavily before, there had never been any removal of clothing. The fact that it was happening now both excited and terrified him. He knew Kagome would be perfect—there was no doubt in his mind about that. But what about him? He remembered the picture she had of that American actor—Or-an-doh, or whatever his name was. He couldn't help but wonder how he would stack up next to him. Sure, she'd been with him while he was shirtless, but she was busy fretting over him and tending to his wounds. There was a big difference between nudity out of necessity and induced nudity for recreation.

Kagome watched him as he worked. He paused before moving on to the second. His claws gave him trouble, but Kagome wasn't going to help him along. She wanted him to take his time, to savor this. Hell, she wanted to savor this.

Slowly, one by one, the buttons to her shirt came undone, and the two flaps of the blouse hung open at her sides, exposing her to the cold air. She shivered, not only from the apparent draft that was in her room, but from the intensity with which Inuyasha regarded her chest, and to her surprise, she found herself blushing.

“Wow.” Kagome fought the urge to laugh at his blunt and brief grunt of appreciation. Instead she just smiled shakily and allowed the slippery blouse to fall from her shoulders and pool on the bed. Trying to appear calmer than she felt, she placed his hands on her sides, leaned forward on her knees, and kissed him, subsequently returning to her straight-backed cross-legged position, waiting his next move.

His thumbs started trace slow arcs on her sides, and his fingers splayed widely over her skin. Experimentally, he lightly dragged the tips of the claws of one hand across her belly, smiling a bit when she shivered, and her skin broke with goosebumps. He brushed his fingers over and into the shallow dip of her belly button, tracing a circle around it. She shimmied away from his touch, standing by the bed. His eyes snapped to her face, questioning if he'd done something wrong.

She showed him wrong when her hands gripped the hem of his t-shirt, and tugged up insistently. `Moment of truth,' he thought, resigned and filled with dread. Kagome was going to get his shirt off no matter what he protested with. So he reluctantly lifted his arms so that she could pull the shirt over his head, the collar ruffling his hair.

Kagome drank in the sight of him before her, shirtless, and looking uncomfortable and unsure. She let her eyes run over his form, from the inviting looking juncture between his neck and shoulder, to the place where his naked flesh disappeared into his pants. She smiled sadly, pressing her palm to an oblong, discolored area, obviously a place where a nasty scar had been. He may have been able to heal faster than a human, and he may have been able to get away with his health relatively still intact. But she didn't care what he said: it would never go away completely. Not with beatings as severe as he got. His skin told the story.

“So many scars…” she murmured softly, studying the mottled places that marred his chest and stomach. He eyed her uncertainly, gauging her for a reaction. “Yet still so beautiful.”

The passionate, desperate, pleading look he shot her with had her reeling. He stood suddenly, yanking her forward and taking her mouth deeply. With the hard, unyielding surface of him pressed so intimately against her own bare upper torso, Kagome went dizzy, and her knees almost buckled. She grabbed his shoulders tight to steady herself. Abruptly, she pulled back, and she heard Inuyasha make a small frustrated sound in the back of his throat. She grinned to herself, kissing his chin to placate him.

Biting her lip with nervousness, she undid the button on her jeans and unzipped the fly. With a little wiggle of her hips, she slid the denim down her legs, stepping one foot out of them, and kicking them to the side with the other.

She was suddenly grateful that she'd chosen to wear a pretty, matching bra and panty set, black and red, lacy and flattering. She hadn't been expecting anything like this tonight, and the fact that her underwear matched was pure luck. Although, when she thought about it, Inuyasha probably wouldn't have given a care.

“Did…Did y—” His voice cracked sharply. He didn't seem embarrassed, as he would have normally been. “I d-don't remember if…if y-y-you l-locked the d-d-door…” he stammered, his eyes rooted at her.

“It's locked,” she promised, glancing at it to double check anyway. She stepped to him and kept his eye contact, difficult as it was for her, and unbuttoned his pants as well, pushing them down just to the top of his thighs. Then, she stepped around him, peeling the three thick comforters on the bed back. She shimmied down underneath them and moved towards the wall, allowing him room. She looked at him expectantly.

Inuyasha, unsure of how far this was going to go, but thinking that he'd enjoy finding out, tentatively pushed his pants off, followed by his socks, quickly seeking refuge from the cold underneath the blankets with the beautiful woman that he was breathlessly in love with.

He settled on his side, reveling in the warmth given by the blankets and Kagome. They stared into each other's eyes, both amazed at the amount of unbounded emotion the other held.

“I just want to touch,” Kagome whispered nervously. “I've really wanted to touch you like this.” Inuyasha nodded his agreement. He tenderly brushed loose wisps of hair out of her eyes, and let his palm slide across her cheek.

“I love you so much,” he whispered back. She smiled beautifully and beckoned him closer, shuffling to meet him halfway. She kissed the ridge of his collar bone, the underside of his chin.

“I love you,” she echoed.

Inuyasha was the last to fall asleep. After precious hours of passionate kissing, nervous laughter, explorative touching, and many more confessions of love, Kagome had drifted off to sleep against him, half on top of him her smooth body pressed intimately against every possible inch of skin. Inuyasha watched the top of her head, overcome by how happy she'd made him. Not just in this night, but every other night before that, dating even back to when he supposedly `hated' her. She'd always been in his head in some way. She'd always had his heart, or knew that she would have it, he realized. She probably knew it as well; he'd just had to figure it out.

It was with a muscle straining smile and a slight bounce in his step that Inuyasha leaped over the wooden fence that separated his backyard from the rest of the block. Ducking past the windows with shades at half-mast, he scaled the side of his house with practiced ease and dipped into his partially cracked window, prying it open with his claws. He shivered against the cold that had spilled into his room upon his absence and dumped his boots in the corner, quickly shedding his clothes and stuffing them into the depths of his closet. He made a note to wash those thoroughly when he next got the chance.

A heady, giddy feeling rushed through him and he beamed to no one but himself. He'd been reluctant to leave his little heaven only to face his personal hell, but it couldn't be helped. He hadn't cleaned an inch of the house, and he had a lot of work to do to keep his father placated. So, he'd bid Kagome and her family goodbye and headed out.

He sifted through the dirty laundry in the bottom of his closet and pulled out some grubby sweats in which to work. He tied his hair back with an elastic and stepped out of his room, ready to work quickly and get the job done with.

He reached the bottom of the stairs, and froze at what greeted him.

“So you're back.”

Author's Notes:

Wooh! Is it steamy in here, or what? Sorry, I just can't do a lemon! Inuyasha's too innocent! (and so am I…) yeah, no mention of danglies here…

What'd you think? I think I'm a bit out of practice, that's why the Gamyuo part was rough (I wrote that first) but I think I eased back into my flow. I am once again a well-oiled machine!

Review!

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