Adult-FanFiction.org : Inuyasha / Yashahime

A Sacred Treasure and a Hanyou	By : cukid9 Category: InuYasha > Het - Male/Female > InuYasha/Kagome Views: 18612 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.

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Chapter 10

The Future Looks Better

He wasn�t quite sure what was happening. All he knew was that the ceiling above him at once was familiar and unrecognizable. He shifted his head to look around him, noticed a very familiar entertainment center and coffee table. Bright sunlight persisted in trying to pierce through the heavy curtains that covered the windows. He licked dry lips, wondering at the fact that he had slept so long, so deeply.

Inuyasha pushed himself to a sitting position on his couch. He felt sore all over, but instead of making him wince, he felt a small, satisfied smile pull at his lips. He looked down at his chest. The angry red marks that had been there last night were now a faint pink. Tracing a finger along one of the welts, he was surprised to find a slick substance slathered on his skin. He inspected the substance and, taking a cautious sniff, he found that she had put some kind of salve on his wounds. His heart warmed toward the girl even more to know that she had not just shoved him through his front door, but had, in fact, helped him to his couch and had taken care of him.

An ear swiveled at the faint whisper of skin against leather behind him. Turning, he found the object of his thoughts curled up on the loveseat, a thin sheet covering her. Inuyasha rose, walked to the loveseat to stand over her. He reached out a clawed finger, brushing a strand of raven hair away from her face. In repose, it looked soft, child-like, as if she were ten years old again with no worries or fears. He hadn�t noticed it before that she seemed to carry faint lines of grief around her eyes, in the way her mouth was set when she was awake, when her face was animated. Hadn�t noticed it because her face had been shielded from him for so long, because even when he had eventually seen it, he had mistaken her for someone else. But now it was clear that she in no way looked like his dead lover and tormentor. Perhaps the way their lips were shaped was the same. But Inuyasha had seen and heard far more seductive and sultry things come from her lips than would ever had dared come from Kikyo�s. His memories of Kikyo were tainted from their last moments together. Kagome�s skin, though pale, still held that faint flush of pink, showing that warm blood ran through her veins. Inuyasha remembered Kikyo as being cold, frigid, as if she were carved from ice. The same dark lashes fell against high, delicate porcelain colored cheeks. Perhaps the shape of their eyes was similar. But hers held far more expression in them than Kikyo�s ever had. And there was the shock of seeing, not dark, coal colored eyes, but a grey so dark as to almost be black; a grey that seemed to be caught in some internal storm, causing her eyes to constantly shift from black to grey and back.

�Good morning,� he said, softly. She squeezed her eyes closed, buried her head under the sheet, muttering something unintelligible. The actions reminded him again of how child-like she could be sometimes. The thought of this woman making him groan in pleasure as she whipped him was at odds with the girl he saw before him now. It was oddly erotic to think that they were one and the same. �How about I make us some coffee and you can take a shower,� he suggested.

Another mumble came from beneath the blanket. Deciding that it was an agreement, he made his way to the kitchen, pulling coffee beans out of the freezer, the grinder and two mugs out of the cabinet. As soon as he had set the maker to brew, he walked back into the living room. He hadn�t heard any indication that she had moved since he left her and, looking down over the back of the couch, he found that she had curled even further into herself -if that was at all possible- and had fallen back asleep.

Inuyasha sighed, wanting nothing more than to leave her there, but not knowing if there was something she had to be up for today. He reached down and ran his fingers lightly through her hair, pulling the blanket from her head and shoulders.

�It�s Saturday, Inuyasha,� she growled at him. �Go back to sleep. No one should be up this early on a Saturday.�

Her voice still rough with sleep made the growl come out as a near match to one of his. Inuyasha chuckled softly, loving the sound of his name from her lips, bending over the back of the couch to nuzzle his lips against her neck. He heard her sigh softly, felt her whole body go limp.

And in the next instant she was rigid, moving away from him, clutching the blanket to her as she rose from the couch, putting it between them.

Inuyasha blinked, watched her as she watched him warily. �Coffee?� he asked.

It seemed to throw her. She hesitated before nodding, staying where she was when he turned to walk into the kitchen.

�It�s in here, little girl,� he said, over his shoulder. �I don�t bite.�

He heard her feet whisper across the floor behind him. �You�ve said that before, and it�s not true,� she said. Inuyasha could hear the amused annoyance in her voice. �And my name�s not �little girl,�� she added. She nodded her thanks as he handed her a steaming mug. �No, just black,� she said, waving away the sugar and cream. �My name�s-�

�Kagome Higurashi.�

Kagome eyed him over the rim of her coffee mug. �I think you were lying about not stalking me too,� she said.

Inuyasha smiled. �No. I saw your name in the program when you performed,� he told her.

�Oh.�

Kagome sat at the island in the middle of the kitchen, Inuyasha leaning against it, in a silence that was not uncomfortable, but seemed to have a certain edge to it, as if both were trying to figure out what the next best thing to say would be.

Inuyasha watched her as she ran a finger over the handle of her mug, as she stared into its dark brown depths. When she had emptied it, he moved to refill it for her, and happened to glance at the calendar that was on the fridge.

And suddenly realized why exactly he had slept so soundly the night before.

Tomorrow would be the night of the new moon. The night that he would become human until sunrise of the next day. He shivered slightly at the thought, remembered how it had been when he was younger, how he had hidden away from everyone in fear. Remembered how Sesshomaru had scorned him for it, how it was all Kikyo wanted him to be. It had always been hard for him, these nights that he was human, mostly because his senses dulled, because he felt oddly vulnerable and exposed.

He must have paused too long in his musings. He suddenly became aware of the scent of vanilla, of a warm hand covering his own.

�Inuyasha?�

She must have been trying to get his attention for a few minutes. He looked down into stormy grey eyes and suddenly his heart stopped, his breathing paused.

Concern had been there in her gaze. Had been there and then was gone, as quick as a flash of lightning. But he had seen it, was sure he had seen it, even as she pulled away from him, created distance between them.

�I�m sorry,� she said, suddenly, averting her eyes from his intense gaze. �You were just standing there, staring at the refrigerator as if you didn�t know what it was.� She paused, as if she expected him to say something. �Are you okay?� she asked when he didn�t reply. �I didn�t hurt you that badly did I?�

Inuyasha turned to face her, letting her see the fading marks on his body. �No,� he said. �You didn�t hurt me that badly.�

Her eyes traveled down his chest, her fingers following faint trails of pink on his sides and back. �How?� was all she said. A nail caught slightly on his skin, causing his breath to hitch in a mixture of pleasure and pain. �I know that youkai have amazing healing abilities. Is it the same for hanyou?�

�I suppose. I haven�t ever really met one besides myself.� Inuyasha stood still as she walked around him, fingers exploring the wonder of his healing body.

�Amazing,� she said. �You know I was trained at a shrine, by my grandfather.� She stood before him again, looked up at him. �He trained me to be a miko.� If she expected him to react to this revelation, she was sorely disappointed. When Inuyasha didn�t respond, she shrugged and continued. �He says that I am the reincarnation of a great miko. Of Kikyo.� She paused again, taking a step away from him. �You thought I was she.� Inuyasha nodded, not sure exactly where she was going with this. �Why?�

He gestured for her to take a seat, waited until she was settled to begin. �I�m not sure that this is the best conversation to have over breakfast,� he began.

�We�re not eating,� she pointed out. �I�m sure I�ll be able to stomach it.� She looked down in her coffee mug, ran a finger around its rim. �You seem to avoid this subject every time I bring it up.�

He smiled wanly at her, wondering when it was that she had become comfortable enough around him to say such things. Two nights ago, is what his mind told him, when they had sat in an empty studio in the middle of the night, eating pizza and talking like two normal people -or like a miko and a inu-hanyou; however normal that could be.

�Much like you avoid personal questions?� he asked, unable to stop himself from taking a dig a her.

Kagome frowned at her coffee, as if it were the cause for the direction the conversation was taking. �That was business,� she said. �Not pleasure.�

�According to whom?� he asked, arching a brow. �I seem to remember you being just as pleased by our times together at Onaduro as I,� he added, with a smirk. For once, he could see the flush that rose to her cheeks. Inuyasha stood, setting his mug in the sink. �Since you are not going to take advantage of my offer of a shower, I�m going to use it.� He watched as she nodded, still not meeting his eyes. �If you change your mind, there�s a bathroom down the hall to your right. It�s the last door on the left through the bedroom.�

�Why won�t you tell me about Kikyo?� she asked, softly.

Inuyasha stopped in the doorway, kept his back to her as he sighed. �Have you ever lost someone close to you, Kagome? Have you ever sat on the edge of grief and guilt, so close to throwing yourself into the abyss that you could feel your soul being torn from you?� He heard a quiet intake of breath behind him. �This is why I avoid talking about these things. Because, even after hundreds of years, sometimes I can still feel it. You look like her, but, even though your souls may be the same, you are not her. I see no point in digging up the past when the future looks so much better.�

Inuyasha didn�t even turn to look at her expression as he walked out of the kitchen.

*

Kagome sat for a few moments more after he had left, staring into the murky reflection of herself in her coffee as it slowly grew cold. She realized what went on between them, even if Inuyasha did not, this game of push and pull that they played with each other. She knew very well why she did it. What she wanted to know was why he did it.

Sighing, Kagome pushed herself away from the counter, thinking that a shower would probably be the solution to her suddenly confused, melancholy mood. Looking around herself, she admired how beautiful Inuyasha�s house was. When she had dragged a mostly sleeping hanyou through the doors, she immediately had noticed the odd, but perfect, blending of Japanese and Western. She had automatically kicked her shoes off in the front room -a part of her surprised to find the genkan there- before carrying her unresponsive burden past the little, traditional Japanese alcove whose table held a vase, a set of keys, and a few letters. Throughout the house, the floors were of a light wood; the walls painted crisp, bold colors. The living room was purely western, with its large, plush leather couches, the large screen, flat television that hung on the wall. Where she had been sitting in the kitchen was an island that curved through the middle of the room, its top matching the other countertops in a dark grey marble. The floors were the same light wood, and, in a corner, sat a small nook with three large windows that looked out into, Kagome assumed, the back yard. The windows let cheery late morning sun in, reflecting sharply off the chrome appliances.

Kagome wandered to her left down the hall, admiring paintings and pictures that hung along the walls. Most of the doors were closed, but one stood slightly ajar. Not able to resist the temptation, Kagome pressed her fingers against the cool, smooth wood, peering inside.

It was a room that looked like it had been copied from a history book. The floors were covered in tatami mats and in the center sat a low, highly polished black table with brightly colored pillows on either side of it. The walls were decorated with hanging scrolls and woodblock prints, all looking extremely old. To the left, a sword hung, the leather wrapped around its hilt worn, its sheath looking like it was rotting. The large windows at the far side of the room willingly let in the sun�s light, making the blue walls brilliant. Along the walls to either side of the door were display cases that held, what looked like to Kagome, costumes. One was the same hakama and haori that the scroll of the boy she had seen as a child wore. The display case next to it held a spectacular white kimono with a red pattern across it, a blue and yellow obi around it.

Suddenly feeling as though she was sneaking a peek into someone�s diary, Kagome pulled her head from the room and closed the door. She walked idly down the hallway and, coming to the last door on her right, she opened it and walked into the bedroom.

The stark white walls were a huge contrast to the bright blue ones of the room she had just been in. Breathtakingly large, black and white photographs of different cities hung on them, the wood floor was covered in plush white rugs, softening Kagome�s steps and she made her way through the room. The bed was made out of a deep mahogany, the dark red bedspread a beautiful match to the wood. Kagome trailed her fingers along the footboard, looking around her, lost in wondering thoughts about this man that she was so thoroughly, and curiously, enamored with.

As she made her way to the closed door across the room, she happened to catch her reflection in a mirror that hung over the dresser. Her dark hair was still rumpled, the back of it apparently deciding that it didn�t agree with how the rest of her locks were laying and was going to go in whatever direction it felt like. She frowned, running her fingers through her hair, trying to contain it as she made her way into the bathroom.

And it wasn�t until the steam entered her lungs, until she saw the outline of a deeply tanned body through fogged, glass shower doors, that she realized she had taken a left where she should have taken a right. Kagome stood, rooted to the spot, unable to take her eyes from his form that moved beneath the running water. Even though she couldn�t see him clearly, her mind gave her details that made her flush alternately with mortifying embarrassment and heart-racing desire.

She could see when he realized she was there, watched his blurred figure as it paused, as it turned toward her. She saw him reach to open the door, and still she couldn�t move. Her brain shouted at her, told her to leave before the situation became unbearably uncomfortable, while a soft voice whispered through those loud thoughts, encouraging her to stay, to see what was hidden, because it was sure to be mouth-wateringly exquisite.

�Did you get lost, little girl?� came the amused question.

Even though her feet refused to reconnect to her brain, she managed to squeeze her eyes shut as she saw the shower door open.

�Yes,� she whispered, knowing he could hear her. The thought of his extraordinary senses caused her to blush even fiercer when she remembered what else he would be able to pick up. �I took a wrong turn. Sorry.�

Finally her feet took one step and then another, back through the door. She kept her eyes closed as she reached out to grasp at the door handle.

Kagome�s eyes flew open when her hand encountered warm, wet flesh instead.

She remembered taking a class in high school that had talked briefly about the mythologies of other countries. She had been fascinated by the pantheon of the Greeks, remembered staring at the painstakingly detailed paintings that had been discovered in old temples, at sculptures that were more of a study in the beauty of the human form, at the modern renderings of the ancient gods. She remembered, in particular, a painting of the sun god, Apollo, and how his skin had shone with an inner radiance, how his bright eyes could have contained the light of the sun.

The painting was nothing compared to what stood before her. An open window allowed the sun to pierced through the steam, causing rainbows to waver as the air moved through the room, and then struck the water that clung to golden skin. She sucked in a breath as her eyes followed a droplet down the smooth, hard planes of chest and stomach muscles, down the curve of a hipbone.

Kagome�s eyes snapped up, her cheeks heating, even as a small smile touched the corners of her lips to discover that a question she had been asking herself for the past five months had finally been answered.

All the hair on his body was the same silvery-white.

A/N: Omg, please don�t hate me for that ending! I don�t have any problems writing lemons, so I�m not shying away from it because of that. This is just how the story goes! Besides, *grins evilly* I want to keep you hooked, and what better way to do it than making the end of this chapter end so incredibly awful? (shhh! yes, I already know that I am evil and sadistic, you don�t have to tell me again ^_^) Just bear with me and I promise I�ll try to make it worth your time and worthy of your reviews.

I also wanted to say that sometimes I really suck at remembering to thank people for their reviews, as I tend to write these notes really late at night ^_^ I just want to say, in general, thank you to everyone. It�s encouraging to know that you like this, because sometimes I get a little anxious about what I write.

And a huge thank you to fallenangel7583 and Quillwing717. I have read (am still reading �Curse of the Dragon� because it is long ^_^) the works by both of them. It is a great compliment to me to receive reviews from two authors whose writing I admire.
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A Sacred Treasure and a Hanyou