InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Zutto Ikite ❯ Tasukete ( Chapter 2 )

Zutto Ikite

 

°o.oO°o°Oo.°o°.O

 

She still hadn't learned how to deal with it. Even after six agonizingly long years, the pain hadn't diminished, yet it had surprisingly dulled. The knowledge that her beloved hanyou wasn't going to appear at her window in the middle of the night to drag her back to the Feudal Era had been hard to grasp all along, so Kagome didn't bother trying. In fact, she liked to think of him still alive sometimes.

 

Like a make-believe game.

 

A game that stabbed her in the back every time she approached it.

 

“Kagome-chan,” she heard from around the corner. Her lips tilted up in a very fake smile, one that was translucent for those who knew her. Still, it was her only way of going on and they all respected it. After six years, she had developed a self-protecting mechanism and it worked like a charm. Most of the time.

 

If only her heart could be cured…

 

So much searing pain and bittersweet memories... Regardless of the present, they were here first.

 

“Souta-kun?” She almost couldn't believe it; her little brother had become a fine adolescent and she was so proud of him. His perception of things surprised her at times, because she still regarded him as a child that would ask for advice on how to impress a girl. For Kagome, Souta was the image of the perfect past that had never belonged to her. She loved him even more because of this, but she would never tell him that.

 

“Kagome-chan,” the boy said cheerfully. “I'm going to send Keiko-san to your office today,” he declared playfully, winking at the giggling young woman.

 

“Gee, don't do me a favor, Souta,” Kagome replied, rolling her eyes. Whenever her brother wanted to speak about someone he didn't like, he'd joke about how he thought they were crazy and they should be brought to Kagome so she could cure them.

 

Then, as every time, she'd faithfully respond, “I am not a psychiatrist. I am a proud psychologist, and I offer counseling, not prescriptions.” She loved her job, because every time she heard people complaining about their troubles reminded her that she wasn't the only one suffering, that there was always room for worse.

 

Inuyasha…

 

A sigh escaped her lips and surely Souta picked up on it, though he said nothing, as usual. Six years had passed and Kagome wouldn't let any man get close to her. Whether she felt it was an obligation or whether it was out of guilt Souta had no idea, but he would never open this delicate subject. He knew how much it disturbed his sister, and truthfully, sometimes it even kept him up at night.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. It's just I can't believe how shallow she is. I tried getting along with her, but she's impossible.” He'd rip out his hair if he wasn't almost bald. For years Souta had been convinced that it looked good on him, and since no one was making a big deal out of it anymore, he saw no reason to let his hair grow. Maybe the fact that every time it grew an inch it reminded him of his childhood hero - the not-quite-man with the not-quite-natural powers - had something to do with it, though he wasn't sure he was ready to admit it to himself. He might never be, and in those moments he understood Kagome best.

 

His sister was the most damaged by the tragedy of Inuyasha's death.

 

“Maybe you aren't looking at it from the right angle. Why don't you give her a chance? Surely she has a reason for-”

 

“Oh, don't give me that counseling shit, nee-chan. The girl is simply evil.” Then, to prove his point, Souta shivered with a grimace, making Kagome giggle in amusement. It was so rare these days.

 

“Fine. Though if you really want to, you can send her to me.” I'll help her, she wanted to say, but something kept her. How could she claim to be able to help someone if she couldn't help herself? How could she say such a thing when she hadn't saved the one that mattered?

 

Zutto ikite.

 

She'd really meant those words at the time, though now they felt incredibly trivial. In a way, she was desperately waiting to see him again. She'd only recently been able to sever all ties to the past, to those who had known Inuyasha almost as well as she had known him.

 

Dully, Kagome had been able to help them kill Naraku then she had watched Sango and Miroku get married, have two beautiful twin daughters and a son, and Shippou get past all his exams, but it had soon become too much for her pour soul. Everything in that forest and village reminded her of her hanyou, of all her failures.

 

So she had left without a goodbye.

 

“What do you say about that yakitori you promised to make me?” Souta asked, smiling suggestively.

 

“Sure thing, kiddo.”

 

Like always, Kagome missed her brother's frown that was soon replaced by a sympathetic smile.

 

Tedious days went by and she let herself overwhelmed by her office work. People came and poured their souls while she offered them heartfelt advice. Most were content with what she could give, though some were not.

 

A small part of them were crazy.

 

It felt more like a necessity then a duty. By helping them, she felt she helped the aching soul of her lost lover. Their missed chance at love, their tragedy, it was engraved deep within her mind and soul.

 

People greeted her wherever she went and familiar faces called her Higurashi Sensei. She was naturally quite good at what she did, but she didn't like praise. Her talent came from within her heart - deep inside Kagome wanted to do good.

 

This morning, Noriko-chan hadn't brought her coffee. Her eyes hurt and she could feel the familiar tendrils of exhaustion pull at her arms, so she needed the energy boost. Quickly, Kagome checked her agenda for possible appointments, and she was clear. Perfect. What could happen if she took ten minutes to go grab a cup of coffee? The espresso in the hospital lobby was quite close to her office, so she could notice if anyone entered it. Not that she would pay attention, she was sure.

 

Grabbing her purse, Kagome ran a hand through her stray locks, silently begging her hair to be still for once. When she didn't succeed, she let her wedge heels carry her out of her office and to the espresso machine. She wasn't first in line, she noticed, as there was a seemingly young boy facing the machine, his shoulder-length dark hair disheveled enough for her to think he was a punk.

 

Boys nowadays are so insensitive.

 

Just when she reached him, he moved to the wall in front of him without noticing her, turning around to tilt his head back against the cold tile. His face startled her and her traitorous heart skipped a couple of beats out of sheer surprise. His eyes were closed as he waited for his coffee to get ready. For some reason, Kagome didn't want him to open his eyes for fear of dying if they were the same intense orbs she loved.

 

Could it be…?

 

The tension gnawed at her entrails, denying her the peace she felt she deserved. It had been so long since she'd last seen his face - his bloody, twisted features - and this boy resembled him too much for his own good.

 

Is it possible…?

 

Her heart beat ten times faster, she assumed, so she clutched her chest in a futile attempt to soothe it. Her breath wasn't any better - it felt like she'd ran all her life and she'd only now stopped with the sole intention of resting her lungs. Anxiety greater than everything gripped her, refusing to let go, making her compelled to keep watching him.

 

His left eye twitched shortly and the young psychologist realized this boy seemed very tense, despite his relaxed posture. She never once thought about what might concern him, because she was too enwrapped in his otherworldly traits to care.

 

He looks like…

 

She couldn't say it, because she was afraid she might believe it, and so the disappointment would be thousand times greater when she'd find out it wasn't him. It couldn't be him, her hanyou. This boy seemed so vulnerable, so troubled. Inuyasha was wild, and powerful - manly. All this boy inspired was empathy; it just couldn't be Inuyasha.

 

What are the chances?

 

The sound of the espresso machine ended abruptly and the boy opened his eyes just as unexpectedly. Kagome started at the molten intensity she read in them as he stared back at her. For a moment, it was only her, his eyes, and the tingles that wouldn't leave her alone. Shivers climbed up her spine like serpents knowing every crevice of her body and she masochistically found she couldn't breathe.

 

His eyes were his eyes. The same dark orbs Inuyasha would have whenever he was human. Whoever this boy was, he was a spitting image of her beloved every New Moon.

 

And just like that, she felt safe. A warm feeling encased her body as she let him pick up his cup so she could go make hers. Subconsciously, her eyes avoided him, pretending not to pay attention. Though he'd certainly seen her stare and had said nothing. Maybe she was wrong. Perhaps her tired eyes were playing tricks on her, although no matter how many times she closed and opened them, his face wouldn't change. Despite his short hair and thinner appearance, everything about him screamed Inuyasha.

 

Against her wishes, Kagome said nothing, but kept watching him furtively. He seemed torn between leaving and staying, but he apparently opted for drinking his coffee next to her. Unwilling to break this new trust she sensed between them, Kagome grabbed her own cup and sipped the hot liquid slowly, careful not to get burned. The boy who was not Inuyasha, she kept telling herself, was still leaning against the wall, his espresso hanging loosely in his right hand.

 

Come to think of it, he didn't seem so young anymore. Perhaps he was about 20 years or so; she couldn't be sure. But his eyes told a story she wasn't sure she was supposed to understand. They were trained on her every move and it made her strangely self-conscious, though she never did anything to discourage him from looking her way. Something about him made her enjoy his presence, even if she wasn't sure whether it was the fact that he resembled Inuyasha or not.

 

They didn't say anything this first time they met, and she was sure she'd have it no other way. Guiltlessly, Kagome gripped her purse as she threw the coffee in the bin and set her eyes on the office door, intent on ignoring the boy and getting ready for her next appointment.

 

That night was her first nightmare-free night.

 

The next few days she was there religiously every morning, having told Noriko-san not to bother with bringing her coffee anymore. As expected, the boy was there as well, watching her with a strange, curious gaze. She refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing what she was thinking, so the only thing she allowed herself to do was drink the espresso and watch him out of the corner of her eyes then leave. He didn't do anything special, either.

 

After a while she found out from some nurses that he came to the hospital every day to donate blood. His tenacity amazed her and made her wonder the reason behind his actions. Nowadays, no one came to donate this much blood without a good cause.

 

Sometimes she wondered what his voice sounded like, although she wasn't sure she wanted to know. It had been too long since she'd last hear Inuyasha's voice and she somehow wanted it to remain that way. She didn't want to get her hopes high for nothing.

 

`Kagome, I-`

 

She'd shushed him that day and would regret it till the end of her life.

 

The insecurity and guilt, they hurt the most.

 

She missed him. And because of this, she found solace in that boy's presence, however wrong it sounded. If Souta knew, he'd surely disapprove.

 

But today something had changed; she could feel it in the air between them. His eyes were no longer guarded and his lips were no longer pursed. He still kept his eyes closed like every day, probably to avoid eye contact, but his brows were neater, more relaxed. And if she hadn't paid attention to the sounds around them, she would have entirely missed his question as she was watching the espresso machine.

 

“What's your name?”

 

The words startled her, but mostly, his voice startled her. It had the same gruff undertone Inuyasha's had, though this boy's voice was clearly younger, less deep. In time though, she was sure there would be no differences. Somehow, the implications scared her.

 

So far Kagome hadn't allowed herself to think of him as anyone else than a boy who donated blood for the hospital she worked at, but now it was obvious that she couldn't keep thinking that way. The similarities were striking, there was no denying it.

 

He might be…

 

“Kagome,” she answered weakly, and was about to ask him for his name that could confirm every possibility that had been tormenting her, when a nurse appeared out of nowhere with a file in her hand, calling him. With an apologetic look, the boy whose name she still didn't know went running after the retreating nurse.

 

And as always, Kagome was left behind.

 

Tasukete…

 

°o.oO°o°Oo.°o°.O

 

A/N: There will be only one or two more chapters. I hope you're enjoying the story. Oh, and please review :)

 

Yakitori = a Japanese type of skewered chicken
Tasukete = Help