#i wept so hard i got a headache

[jeongyeonluvr]

what about little!sana throwing a tantrum? the girls are not used to sana being bratty because she's always a good girl while regressed, but some days she's just in a bad mood all day

little monster

|| cg!Nayeon little!Sana

•CW: temper tantrum

Sana was tired.

Sana had been fighting sleep for hours, and the tantrum had already started near the end of dance practice into her bedtime.

"I know you're tired, hun." Nayeon said, closing her eyes and willing away a headache. "Do you want Mama to rock you before sleep?"

"No no no no NO!" Sana screeched, shaking the house, leaving Nayeon in a shocked state. "I not sleepin'! I not tired! I not I not I not!"

Sana wept after her little scream, kicking away toys and loose crayons Nayeon had been too tired to try and put away anymore. Nayeon wished there was more she could do for her baby, but it was pretty hard when the only thing said baby seemed to know how to say was synonyms for not sleeping.

"I am." Nayeon mused, finally sitting down in Sana’s rocking chair in defeat. One sleepless night couldn’t be too bad. She’d just have to wait until Sana tired herself out.

Nayeon strapped in for a long night.

She gave short answers to Sana’s fit as she continued on her rampage, crying about not being tired even as she said it through a yawn. Nayeon could only guess why Sana was so against sleeping all of a sudden. She wished she knew more, but Sana wasn't making any of this easy.

"I know, I know. You're not tired at all." Nayeon said sarcastically, absent-mindedly beginning to rock in the chair. Her eyes stayed closed despite Nayeon’s attempts to will them open. She didn't want to fall asleep on Sana, she needed to make sure she didn't get into any kind of trouble.

"Not!" Sana sounded off, and threw yet another soft toy in Nayeon’s direction. Nayeon wasn't offended by the tantrum. In fact, a part of her was relieved Sana was getting it out of her system whatever it had been weighing her down. She just wished maybe it could have started a bit earlier in the day…

This time, Sana’s bunny landed at Nayeon’s feet. She spared a glance down at the toy, before rocking forward, bending down to pick it up and put it in her lap.

Nayeon wouldn't admit a part of her caregiver side was aching seeing Sana in so much distress. She wanted nothing more than to hold her baby and rock and coo until all her tears dried up and she would fall asleep right in her arms. But Sana had refused almost all of Nayeon’s comforting tactics. The only thing she'd allowed Nayeon to do was get her changed.

Nayeon hugged Sana’s bunny gently, before she began petting the stuffie. She slowly began to rock once more, only occasionally peeking her eyed open to check that yes, Sana still was throwing a tantrum.

Except, after a few minutes, the room grew quiet, save for the soft squeaks coming from the rocking chair. Nayeon opened one heavy eye to observe, and found Sana staring at her.

"W-wha do?" Sana asked, looking up with watery eyes.

"Oh, nothing. Certainly not cradling this bunny." Nayeon slightly teased, giving the stuffie another hug before she went back to petting it. "It's no cuddlebug, but I suppose it will have to do." She said with a fake sigh. She peered back at Sana, and saw her sniffle.

"She wanted to go to bed, asked me if I would rock her. I figured since I didn't have any other baby in my lap, I might as well." Nayeon hammed it up, once she realized that maybe this could work…

Sana whimpered again, before standing up. Nayeon almost jumped out of the chair when she saw Sana try to stand on her wobbly legs, but eventually she got herself up.

Then proceed to stomp her foot.

"No! No no! My Mama! My Mama!" Sana cried, before hurrying over to Nayeon. Nayeon had just enough time to move the bunny out of the way and prepare herself for impact. Sana was quick to jump into her lap, kicking and tossing about until she was sat comfortably, barely avoiding smacking Nayeon a few times. But even despite that, all Nayeon could do was laugh.

"You're such a little monster." Nayeon teased, cradling Sana close once she was settled into her lap. The bunny was gently placed down on the floor, Nayeon not wanting it to suffer Sana’s jealous wrath.

"M' big monster." Sana helpfully reminded, letting out a low rawr while rubbing her eyes. Nayeon knew as soon as she was cuddled she'd immediately start to get sleepy.

"Oh, my apologies." Nayeon cooed, getting her arm to gently draw her thumb across the apple of Sana’s cheek. Her other arm reached around them and pulled out a pacifier from a nearby counter.

"There there, you're safe. Mama's here." Nayeon soothed. Sana’s eyes didn't stay open long, the swaying motion and the exhaustion finally catching up to her terror tot.

"My Mama." Sana mumbled, nearly incoherent, but Nayeon had good ears. She swiped away at a few tears that still clung to Sana’s face.

Tomorrow they would have to talk, figure out what had triggered her so badly that night, and stress the importance of trusting Nayeon to know what's best for her when she says she needs to go to bed. They'll probably end up in a similar position afterwards. Holding her baby, assuring her that of course she wasn't mad. Of course she still loved her.

But that was tomorrow.

Tonight Nayeon closed her eyes, and soon her snores were matching with Sana’s.

[toinfinitywinning]

it’s been a Long time. Maybe I’ve been lazy. Not really. No offense but a daily blog kinda is like but have you slept since the last one? I know a lot can change in 24 hours though. But anyway I can’t think of anything better to do than to try to write about pain at the same time I’m experiencing my worst. Where, ibuprofen and Tylenol rebound and youre left with a parallel to someone taking antibiotics when they’re not needed over and over to where eventually just quit taking it. You’ve expired it, gone the opposite Way. But ain’t that a Bitch tho. Please help us.

At this point Covid took me hostage for potentially the rest of my Life. No hyperbole. For the Second time in about 10 days I have wept and wept in immense, indescribable Pain you only know if you’ve also experienced constant Chronic Pain. Hard crying helps take in some endorphins but then I get another Headache so it’s just all Fucked -that’s the word, the only appropriate word for my currency. And, the best endorphin in some cases. Carries its own presence. Idk if this writing is helpful or not LOL.

I certainly don’t write for pity. It is just the truth that any contact is exhausting and can cost me. From seeing my family? Working? Hiking? A roller coaster? Anything like what would gentry do? TBH idk what it’s costing right now b/c I’m already spent. Then I’m like that is the most selfish thing ever. Then I’m also like I have to be selfish some to stay sane. I write to Connect. I think I can count on like 5-7 fingers having cried like this.

Even after all the …stuff I’ve been through. Mom reminded me of the endorphins potentially available when you cry like that. How tragic we’re desperate enough at times to attach a good feeling to something so terrible while you’re crying trying to pocket some b/c there’s certainly no sunshine in the other one.. B/c Exercise or exertion aren’t options. In a sense I like give the computer sheet of paper my Pain and when I hit Post it should all Go away until it says successful. Then I close my iPad b/c my eyes hurt.

Like most people with a 180 life spin you’ve most likely not seen it coming—for me, Especially after conquering so much and finally being in a Good place and looking up up for the first time in a long time. I’m still mad about that. Angry really. It’s unfair but even my situation is in isolation. It’s possible somebody in Singapore is feeling the same Pain. Or I think I went too far, China. +, we are bonding over this!

It’s not just the positive interactions and experiences we find solace in. I can’t get through this alone and putting my pride aside has been a difficult task I’ve pretty much holstered. I’m not much for a Group Project ever b/c I usually End up doing it all anyway or sitting in a circle with toilet paper with adjectives but that all we’ve got in a sense. Most of us used to be able to say headache or Migraine and a few hours to 48 hours it’s usually passed. That was me. Every Day it’s just Deep in my bones. My bones that hurt. That cry out and are dry and dancing. Get me there.

Anyone is sure welcome to share their story. The loneliness that is already a different one might feel more insulated. And, I’m sorry, sorry you’re dealing with w/e it might be. That’s the circle of metal chairs you’ll probably only find in Baptist churches I should be looking for.

Can we have Faith without Faith in that? I thought I Left seminary. Ah geez.

I gotta Go.

[comfortwriting]

A Triwizard Baby Part 2 - F.W

Masterlist, Writing Prompt Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Taglist

This is Part 2 of The Triwizard Baby Series, you can read part 1 here.

Want to be tagged? Let me know!

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Pregnancy, Mention of Abortion, alcohol.

"Oh come on, Y/N." Fred begged again "Please!"

"I said no!" You hissed, slapping Fred's hand away from you, storming past him and hurrying to the bathroom, feeling more nauseous than ever.

Clutching your stomach, you fell down onto your knees and hurled yourself over the toilet, vomiting up your porridge and pumpkin juice. At the moment, mornings were cruel to you - your stomach would churn and you had to endure feeling sick, and most often vomiting up your food. You didn't think anything of it, you told yourself you got food poisoning, or one of your potions had bad side effects, but in reality, as you discovered, food and potions weren't responsible for your morning sickness - Fred's baby was.

"Miss Y/L/N, it appears that you're pregnant." Madame Pomfrey announced, handing you the strange plastic stick, pointing at the tiny circle window with a plus sign inside that stared up at you.

You put your head in your hands and sighed, starting to shake, tears filling your eyes.

"I-I don't know what to do."

"Do you want to keep it?"

"I don't know"

"Do you want to terminate the pregnancy?"

"I-I don't know, just give me time to think."

Wracking your brain and trying to think of how you could explain this to your parents, and thinking about your future, Madame Pomfrey walked across the room, sorting through various potions, you could hear the glass bottles knocking over and clinking against one another. Walking back over to you, she handed you a deep purple potion that was misty and looked sparkly when hit by the light.

"Take this once a day, each morning until you know what you want. This potion will hide any indication of pregnancy as the weeks pass by. You'll still experience the usual side effects, but the most this will do is hide your growing bump."

"The usual side effects?" you scoffed "You're saying this as if this has happened to me before, I-"

Madame Pomfrey shook her head at you "You're in here, in a complete pickle on your own because of Fred Weasley" she said quietly, in case any students were now inside the hospital wing.

You swallowed hard, was your love for him that obvious?

"You're not the first girl of his to end up here" she grumbled "And I doubt you'll be the last!"

Fred knocked other girls up? Who? Did you know them? Did they secretly keep the baby?

Everything started to make your head spin, even more, you pulled the top off the potion and necked a tiny drop down, it tasted bitter yet spicy, you could feel a tingling in your tummy.

"If you run out, you know where to find me," Madame Pomfrey said, ushering around you, fluffing up pillows and making the beds "Now, you better be off!"

You were in shock - not just about being pregnant and hiding it, but the whole night in general from what you could remember. One minute you were snogging your best friend, being cheered on by everyone around you, the next minute you were having sex, then you woke up in the morning with a pounding headache and a hangover from hell - which led you to this moment: you were already one month into your pregnancy, and no one aside from Madame Pomfrey and Dumbledore knew.

You didn't want to terminate the pregnancy, but you didn't want to raise the child either, you felt lost and afraid, and you had no one to talk to - but in the next week or so, you would either have the support of your family or you would be disowned.

"What's up with her?" George asked Fred, looking around after waiting for you to return to the great hall.

"I don't know, Georgie." Fred answered, feeling pissed off "She's been more distant, after the first task she just.. she's changed."

Fred couldn't remember anything from that night, the next morning he woke up and you were already out of his bed, and no one mentioned what happened because they were going through hangovers from hell too - what did they expect? you were the master of drinking games, and no one could ever keep up with you.

You couldn't face Fred after the night you shared together, your brain warned you to stay away from him, to run in the other direction - screaming, whilst your heart cried for him, calling out his name and screaming at you - begging you to run to him with open arms.

You were frightened, alone, and felt ashamed, how could you bring a child up so young during your studies? how could you tell your best friend that you were carrying his child? how could you explain that you were now forever tied to him whether he liked it or not? You decided that you shouldn't and wouldn't tell him, from what you knew of - Fred couldn't remember what happened that night and you were satisfied, the least he could remember the better.

"Probably her time of the month or something, Freddie, don't overthink it."

Fred sighed "Well I’ve been planning to ask Angelina to the ball, I thought she'd get jealous when I took my time to ask her, but she didn't care."

George nodded, trying to think about what could have caused you to be so distant and moody, even George knew your periods and mood swings weren't that bad.

"I'm not giving up on her though" Fred continued, crossing his arms "by the end of the week she'll be on my arm, I can't turn up to watch the Yule Ball without a lass now can I?"

Tomorrow was The Yule Ball, a formal dance held on the evening of Christmas Day. Before realising you were pregnant, you had picked out a dress, you even got excited with the possibility that Fred would ask you - but now you needed to avoid him at all costs, seeing his face and turning him down once more would hurt your heart more than it deserved.

After taking a shower, you stared at your tummy through the mirror, realising that in a couple of weeks time, it would become more obvious that you were pregnant, and remember that you would need to rely on the potion to keep things a secret.

"Okay" you whispered to yourself "Don't forget, don't let the brain fog get you into trouble."

Drying yourself, you pulled on your clothes, constantly repeating the potion, and your plan in your head.

Walking out of the common room and down the stairs, turning around and walking down the hall, a loud whistle made you jump, Fred was following you.

"Don't ignore me, love, you know it's rude."

You glared at Fred, your heart and head both at war just by the sight of him and the sound of his voice.

"The answer is still no Fred, just leave me alone."

Don't look at him, don't get attached to his baby - stop it - just keep walking.

"Is it seriously too much to ask?" Fred hissed "It's just Yule Ball, not a bloody date!"

"I'm aware, Fred!" you raised your voice, feeling stressed, sick, and drained "No, I'm not going with you, just please - leave me alone."

Fred didn't chase after you, he stopped in his tracks and burned holes in the back of your head. He didn't understand, why were you avoiding him? why did you suddenly hate him after being best friends, inseparable for so many years? did he say something wrong? did he look at you funny? he didn't know, and he couldn't put his finger on the strange feeling clawing inside him.

Fred’s heart split in two, and he wouldn’t let you get away with doing this - he would get you back in the cruellest way possible, he had to make you jealous.

“Fine!” he yelled at you “I’ll ask someone else! Someone worth my time!”

The Yule Ball was underway, Fred had managed to ask out Angelina, Hermione with Krum, everyone with a partner - even those who weren’t happy about it, like Ron and Harry. You, however, were sat in the empty Hospital Wing, with Madame Pomfrey and your parents.

The huge lump kept forming in your throat, no matter how many times you kept swallowing it down. You couldn't keep still, your feet were tapping against the floor and you kept picking at the thread on your skirt.

"So what seems to be the issue?" your mum asked politely.

You stared at the thread, avoiding all eye contact.

Madame Pomfrey cleared her throat "Well, Mr and Mrs Y/L/N, you have been called into this meeting today as you need to be made aware of something that involves your daughter, Y/N. This matter will give us all plenty to discuss, and plenty of choices for Y/N to decide."

"What is it, sweetheart?" your dad asked, holding the hand of his wife.

Tears welled in your eyes again, your vision going like Harry's before the Gilliweed would take effect in a few months time.

"Please don't get mad" you croaked, finally looking up at your parents, staring at their concerned, soft faces "I-I'm pregnant."

Your parents went quiet, exchanging looks, appearing to be concerned, and quite shocked, but they understood - and they were going to get you through this.

“I know you’re scared, Y/N,” your mother said softly “You’re so young, raising a baby whilst being a baby - our baby - yourself.”

“We were young parents,” your father added quietly “it wasn’t easy, but we pulled through, we will support you, please don’t be ashamed.”

“The worst thing is” you choked, tears falling onto your skirt “I don’t even have the heart to tell him, he can’t remember what happened.”

Your mum got out of her seat and hurried over to you, pulling you into her arms, stroking your head as you wept, reassuring you.

“Is Fred the father?” Your mum asked under her breath, hoping her husband wouldn’t add him to his hit-list.

You nodded your head “yes” you sniffled “he is.”

“Now,” Madame Pomfrey huffed “I don’t want you going to that ball, you need to keep yourself safe, the baby needs to be safe.”

Well, you can’t join the dance or drink the spiked punch, but that doesn’t mean you can’t watch from a distance, does it?

Sitting down at the table behind Harry and Ron’s, you watched everyone dance with smiles on their faces, falling in love with their date for the night. You felt left out, quite bummed, and worst of all, you now had to watch the love of your life, the father of your child, mess with you on purpose.

Fred’s eyes meet with yours, his pained heart softens for a moment before remembering what you had done to him, and how you would get what you deserved. Dancing with Angelina, Fred gripped her hand, smirking at you before pulling her in for a deep, passionate kiss.

It felt as if time had stood still, your heart - like Fred’s - split in half, tears formed in your eyes and you felt sick, mortified, and betrayed. Pushing your chair out from the table, you got to your feet and ran away, leaving everyone behind as you rushed to the common room.

How could he do this to you? Why would he do this!

You felt stupid, you were getting attached to his child when you wanted nothing more than to be free - but this baby was the only piece of Fred you could ever have, and for all his faults, and mind games, you wanted to be close to him in any way that you could, no matter what.

Bursting into the common room, George gave you a sympathetic look, stopping his conversation with his friend Matt.

“You alright love?” he asked, his ginger hair lighter from the flickering flames.

You wanted to tell him, tell somebody, you couldn’t hide this anymore.

“Are you?” you asked, walking over them, sitting down on the floor by the fire.

“Not really, no” George replied “My twin brother is dancing with the girl I love, bit shit really.”

“Why have you been so distant?” Matt asked, “George and Fred are worried about you.”

This was it, you had to tell them, your words coming up like vomit.

“After the first challenge, when we attended that party when Fred and I kissed - that night went much further - I’m... I’m pregnant with his kid.” You admitted quietly “I don’t know what to do, I’m in love with him, and he can’t remember a thing, and he’s dancing with Angelina - he snogged her infront of me knowing I was watching him!”

You started to cry, hurt and fury ignited inside of George, everything starting to make sense - your absence, your morning sickness, you constantly clutching your tummy in protection when people bumped into you.

“Are you going to tell him?” George asked.

You shook your head “No, and the both of you aren’t going to tell him either, you need to promise me.”

George loved Fred, hell, twins are inseparable for crying out loud, but right now, George didn’t care about his loyalty to Fred, he hated him, he fucked you over and will most likely be fucking his crush tonight.

“I promise” he muttered, “it’s no one else choice, but yours.”

“That goes for who you tell, and for what you decide is best for you and the baby,” Matt added.

Feeling slightly better, you got to your feet and pulled Matt in for a quick hug, and then pulled George in for a close and warm embrace “thank you” you whispered in his ear, nuzzling your face into his neck.

Now three months pregnant, you were heavily reliant on the potion that deflated your bump, the only person to see it was George - who teared up and rested his hand upon it, wishing you were with someone better than his stupid brother.

Fred leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, staring at you and George talking, why was it that you acted as if he didn’t exist yet you were all over his brother? Was he fucking you behind his back? Did you prefer the twin you didn’t know as much over your best friend? Is this why his twin avoided him at all costs?

With the second challenge only a day away, Fred wanted to patch things up with you in time so he wouldn’t have to go to the second challenge alone, although he asked Angelina to the ball - and they had a good time - she wasn’t you, and he missed you more than he would like to admit.

Walking past to go to Divination, Fred stepped out in front of you, stopping you from getting past.

“Quite fond of Georgie now, aren’t you?”

“Let me through, Fred, I don’t want to be late.”

“Only if you go to the second challenge with me” he smirked, getting his hopes up.

You scoffed “Looks like I’ll have to skip this class then.” You turned your back on Fred, walking away from him, leaving him to feel frustrated and pissed off.

Missing out on the challenge, you went through everything you needed to buy for the baby and everything you would need to learn to make sure you were the most amazing mum. You were content with your decision to keep it, that little piece of Fred you could nurture forever.

With Harry succeeding down to moral fibre, you knew there would be endless parties tonight - Fred fucking another girl, probably getting her pregnant as he did you, just to not remember and move on to the next girl.

You loved him so much, but you hated him at the same time.

Feeling yourself finally doze off to sleep, the lights in your doom room flicked on, and heavy feet thundered into the room, startling you and waking you up. Your best friend and her mini group brought the party to you, holding a bottle of fire whiskey with your name on it.

“Get up Y/N!” she yelled, jumping on your bed and bouncing, the other girls cheering and laughing in the back.

You clutched onto your bump, the potion wearing off as it did in the night.

Sitting up in your bed, your best friend got on her knees, opening the bottle and shoving it in your face, the scent of the drink you swallowed down like water making you sick to your stomach - reminding you of the night you had too much.

“DRINK! DRINK! DRINK!” Your friends chanted.

“No!” you hissed “I can’t!”

The rim of the bottle hit your lips, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I can’t!” you yelled, silencing them “I’m pregnant!”

The girls stopped and stared at you, fire whiskey spilling out of the bottle and onto your bedsheets. Your heart thumped, your best friend’s eyes were wider than you had ever seen.

“Y/N is having a baby!” Katie squeezed in excitement, jumping on the bed, clapping her hands.

Thanks to Katie, the shock dissipated, and your friends were now supporting you, rubbing your back as you cried, and going through the list of baby things you needed: clothes, nappies, bottles, food, a crib, a pram. They were more excited than you, already arguing over whether it would be a girl or a boy, and who would be the better auntie.

They had a feeling that you didn’t want to tell them everything just yet - and luckily enough, they didn't make you, for now - they just wanted you to know that you weren’t alone, that you were surrounded by help if you ever needed it.

Fred stumbled into his dorm room, fire whiskey on his lips, and red lipstick marks on his neck. His brother George, and friend Matt sat on their beds and glared at him, the two of them looking so angry Fred was convinced they were going to rip his head off.

Fred shrugged his shoulders and got into bed - he had the worst night imaginable - every girl he kissed wasn’t you, his heart didn’t mend - it just broke even more, and from what he gathered - you and George were seeing each other behind his back.

He closed his eyes, drifted off to sleep, and met you in his dreams - holding you close, and swearing that he would never let you go.

taglist: @amourtentiaa @horrorxweasley @alwaysnforeverfangirl @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @sebby-staan @onlyfreds @pandaxnienke @xmalfoyweasleyx @manuosorioh @cosmiccomicloverqueen @the-romanian-is-bae @fhhsposts

[goggles-mcgee]

Too Late: Alix (commission for miner249er)

Chapter 8 of the commission for @miner249er 

Previous Work

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Summary:  Alix's bad day at the end of a bad week, she just wants to be alone but she gets an unexpected visitor.

She could taste the salt of her tears and the metallic taste of blood from how hard she was biting her lip to keep her sobs under control. Alix Kubdel hardly ever cried, she hated crying, not because she thought it was weak or anything like that but personally she hated the feeling. She hated the way her eyes itched afterwards, the exhaustion that followed, and the headache that slowly made itself known. Then there was the way the dried tear stains felt on her face, like they were on display for all to see no matter how hard she scrubbed at her cheeks with her hands. Realistically she knew no one was home to see her tears but she couldn't help but feel like she had to get rid of her tears as fast as she could so no one could tell she had been crying. Jalil and her father were at the museum and would be there until closing so Alix would be home alone for a while but that did nothing to calm her worries. 

Alix needed to stop crying so she could put a cold washcloth over her eyes before her dad and brother got home so neither knew she cried, but it was so hard to stop when you started. Alix loved her dad, she really did, but he tried so hard to be there emotionally for her since her and Jalil's mother just decided she wanted to up and leave and see the world. Alix was young at the time but she knew it had hurt Jalil a lot though he never spoke about it much, but when Alix started growing her dad took it upon himself to try and be both parents in one. It was a nice sentiment but really she just needed her alone time. More so now that everything in her class had gone down and consequently blown up. 

Her dad had begun to hover more than usual around her, asking how she was, if everything was okay at school, if she needed to talk. And really, she got it, she did, but it was irritating her more than it was helping her and that just made her guilt grow. The feeling just grew day by day, never going away, never lessening, and Alix just wanted it to stop. She could deal with the stares her and her class got at school, she could even handle the pranks, the bullying wasn’t something new she had experienced but it had been a long time since she had to deal with it, but she would deal with it. What was eating at her was the guilt. She felt it when Marinette, who had been akumatized, came into their class and ripped into them and exposed Lila. Though that didn’t feel right, maybe she had felt it earlier but ignored it. 

When Lila had shown up Alix was a little skeptical of her, she seemed too good to be true, but then again so did most of her classmates. Adrien was Paris’s Golden Boy and Top Model, not to mention the Gabriel Brand’s face. Max was a genius who made his own AI who actually experienced emotions and Max was a video game tournament champion. Rose, Juleka, and Ivan were in a band together that had fans. Alya was recognized as the creator of the Ladyblog and at the time the one and only blog to have the scoop on anything Ladybug related and to have it Ladybug approved. Nino was a DJ and he was pretty well known amongst teens and on his YouTube. Nathaniel and Marc had a comic series that was beloved by Paris. Mylene’s dad was a well known local actor and Mylene was a favorite in the Drama club. Kim was the class’s all around athlete, the boy loved every sport and it seemed like every sport loved him. Sabrina’s dad was a well known officer and Chloe’s parents were known by all. 

Then there was Alix, and she didn’t want to sound like she was bragging but her dad was one of the lead Historians at the Louvre and she had won her fair share of skating competitions. Lastly there was Marinette, Marinette who had designed for Jagged Stone, Marinette who had her designs approved of the Style Queen and Gabriel Agreste. Marinette whose parents ran one of, if not the most popular Boulangerie in Paris. Clara Nightingale thought the world of her and so did many others, her kindness was brilliant if not worrisome. In short, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was an amazing human being that many looked up to, that many were maybe jealous of. 

Maybe that's why Alix and the class didn't question Lila when she came to the class spinning fantastic tales of tinnitus, kittens and best friends. Their class was full of amazing, capable, connected people, Lila was just another one, or so they believed. She sounded like another Marinette, or, and Alix hated to admit it, a better Marinette. Lila had more skills-yet only in name, she had more connections-the list grew day by day, she had better connections, and she was more genuine and reliable-her charities were more than enough proof...right? Alix would be lying if she said she wasn't impressed by the connections and thought about asking Lila to set up a meeting with her and her favorite skaters. Alix would have never thought to ask Marinette, even if she did have the connections, she couldn't really explain it well but asking Marinette would have made her feel bad. Marinette already did so much and they never really thanked her, and everytime Alix thought about it she would feel bad and worry that the girl was going to overwork herself. Then again, Marinette had never said no so the class just kept asking for favors and it really was no excuse but Alix would get caught up in excitement for things she wanted like banners or treats or a formal tux for events at the museum. Yet, there was just something about asking Marinette if it was possible for Alix and of course the class to meet Jagged Stone or Clara Nightingale. 

Then Lila came and offered to make all these connections happen. It...It was like she made it known she wouldn’t mind if you asked to make connections with someone you were interested in. It made guilt swim and settle in her stomach to remember thinking that she, they, didn’t really need Marinette anymore. Lila was better, Lila was more connected, Lila was flawed. Alix wasn’t stupid, she noticed the way Lila spoke, Lila was bragging but doing it subtlety by telling her stories. She was sure others noticed too, they had too, but then Marinette had said Lila was lying, and it wasn’t a one-off thing either. She claimed...no, she tried to warn them so often that they just took to ignoring her. Well...most took to just ignoring her, others got annoyed, played some pranks, but now that Alix thought of it Lila had suggested the pranks in a way that made it seem like it was the class’s idea. 

The more she remembered the sicker she felt and the more tears would fall. Marinette had always seemed perfect even with her clumsiness, it awed the class but she knew it also made them envious. So when Marinette had been warning them that Lila was lying and too good to be true, they ignored her or responded in hurtful ways because they could, because they felt just that bit better that Marinette wasn’t this perfect being of sweetness and talent and justice. It was bitter and horrible but Alix felt only a little better knowing she wasn’t the only one who felt like that, the girl group talked about it at sleepovers and even Kim and Max had admitted it to her. She wished she hadn’t been so star-struck or bitter, she wished she had been more willing to believe Marinette, but she dismissed her. Alix dismissed her friend out of awe for another, jealousy that she knew she had no real reason to feel, the words of others like Alya who said Marinette was only saying that Lila was a liar because the Italian was getting close to Adrien. 

She shouldn’t have placed all her belief that Alya or Max would fact check things and surely would have told them if Lila was actually the silver-tongued fox that Marinette claimed. Alix should have done her own research, after all, a good Historian checks their sources and gathers their own evidence, and in the words of Carl Sagan that seem to eerily apply to her class’s situation, “Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.” The worst thing is Alix did check some things that Lila had claimed and when she found them to be false she just figured Lila must have forgotten details, or that she just wanted some attention and that surely her classmates also knew not to take everything at face value. But that’s what they did. That’s what they all did. 

Her dad wanted her to talk to a therapist about it, because even if she tried to hide how it was affecting her, he knew. He always did, and boy did that make her feel worse. Everything seemed to be making her feel worse. Then the bullying, because there really wasn’t anything else to call it, that happened today in the park was just the cherry on top of her “bad” day. Nino and Alya had been absent again, everyone just seemed so lifeless, and the stares and the snide remarks were just too much to handle today. Alix was grateful that Aurore and Mireille had stood up for her but some part of her wished they didn’t, some part of her believed she deserved it. ‘No one deserves to be bullied.’ She could hear Marinette say in her mind and that made the tears run faster. 

Alix curled a blanket around her small form as she wept and clutched it to her chest as close as she could. She didn’t even have the energy to grab one of the few stuffed plushies she had, she remembered fondly teasing Rose about her favorite unicorn plushie and the bet they had made about Marinette and her love-life yet again. That seemed like a lifetime ago, but it was a happy time and Alix yearned for that familiarity and carefree happiness back. She would do anything to just go back and do it all over, she had even planned on it before she remembered she no longer had her family watch that had actually been a Miraculous. Her future self had it, which is still something she hadn’t told her father, but like so many times before, Alix wished she still had it.

If she did she would...she would obviously go back before any of this happened. She would make sure Marinette never got akumatized. How she would ensure that she didn’t know but she felt like it would have to do with Lila. Maybe she would just make it so Lila never transferred to Collège Françoise Dupont. If she couldn’t do that then she would just make sure no one believed Lila’s lies! Anything! She would do anything if it meant getting Marinette back and being her friend again. She took that friendship for granted...and that was a mistake she was living with and hated immensely. She hated Lila Rossi. Most importantly, she hated herself for not doing more, for not questioning more, and for not believing in Marinette more. It was those thoughts that wrenched another sob from her and made her pull the blanket in her hands closer to smother the sound of her sobs. 

Before she could have even begun to think about getting up and trying to make herself look like she didn’t just cry her eyes out, Alix felt a weird energy that made her sit up and look around. It felt like every hair on her body was raised, goosebumps raised in a wave and there was just this thing, this static, this energy that made her nose twitch. Then a noise appeared, it popped into existence before it changed to a sort of whirring sound and finally, finally Alix saw a ring of blue begin to open up in the middle of her room. She watched even when the light from the familiar looking portal started to hurt her eyes, she watched until she saw Bunnyx come fully out of the portal, and she watched as said portal disappeared before she made her move. 

“Hey mini-me-” Alix didn’t waste a second before she launched herself at her older self and hugged her and just cried whatever tears she had left. If she was here maybe there was something they could do. Maybe that’s why Bunnyx was here because she needed Alix’s help and all of this would just be a horrible nightmare of a memory. 

“Hey, hey, hey. What’s wrong mini-me? Wait...nevermind, I remember. Do you want to talk about it?” Bunnyx asked as she led them to Alix’s bed and sat them on the edge before letting her transformation drop. 

“No.” Alix sniffled. “Yes. But like, you know what happened so wouldn’t it be pointless?” 

“It’s more like my brain reboots the memories of whatever timeline I’m in, so in a way I remember but not everything. I remember sadness. I remember some vague, mean and cliche kids being bullies. I just don’t remember the specifics.” Bunnyx, since it was easier to refer to her as Bunnyx than just future Alix, explained. 

“Yeah...I mean it’s nothing I-we haven’t dealt with before but with the whole Marinette akuma and disappearance thing happening...it’s like everyone feels like they have some kind of justification for bullying, I mean they’ve shoved me and Rose into lockers for crying out loud! As if that would be something Marinette would be okay with! Everything! The whole world just...it’s wrong now that she’s gone.” Alix lamented as she stood up and paced the space in front of her bed. “But that’s why you’re here right? We’re going to go fix this, right?”

Alix watched as Bunnyx gave her a sad smile before closing her eyes and shaking her head, it looked like the energy was just sapped from her. “No. I came because-”

“No? What do you mean ‘no?’ This-this timeline is wrong! It’s-It’s wrong and broken and we need to fix it.” 

“Alix...there’s nothing we can do about the past in this timeline. This timeline was already born, maybe even before us, and we can’t just go back and try to change it. There is always a price to pay when it comes to time. We could make it worse, or destroy it. There’s a reason why we didn’t get our Miraculous until we were older, and there’s a reason why our Miraculous is the Miraculous of the last defense. Miraculous cannot be used for selfish means.” 

“How is making sure Marinette never got akumatized selfish? How is maybe making it so Lila Rossi never came to our school selfish? That sounds like problems solved to me.”

“Those things aren’t what are putting this timeline in danger, mini-me.” Bunnyx said with such confidence and full of such sorrow and anxiety it made Alix’s own frenzied thoughts halt. 

“What do you mean,” Alix asked carefully as she sat beside Bunnyx. “This timeline is in danger?”

Bunnyx took in a shaky breath before she spoke. “I had a dream about this timeline, and a dream for us is really more of a possibility. It’s not exactly a premonition because it doesn’t have to happen but the probability of it happening is...higher than it should be. In the dream I saw a war. And not a typical one which is bad to say.”

“A war.” The words left Alix in a rush along with her breath.

“A war. A war that if not stopped will cover this world in darkness and death. The one who starts the war...I can never see them clearly, they are in the skies, but they feel familiar and at the same time they’re a stranger to me. To us. I saw fire, so much fire, and the air was filled with roars and screeches that shook the earth. I can’t go too much in detail but I also didn’t see much to begin with, but when I had this...dream, this vision, I knew I had to warn someone.”

“And that was me?” 

“Ladybug wasn’t an option this time...you’re the only one I can count on, the only one I can warn mini-me.” Bunnyx confessed.

“What...what am I supposed to do? I don’t even have a Miraculous! I’m...I can’t even get up the nerve to tell dad and Jalil to shut up when they’re fighting. Whether it be about Egyptian history or about whether Agreste Senior was Hawkmoth or not. Their fighting has gotten worse too! What am I supposed to do?” Alix could feel her panic rising. She understood why Bunnyx warned her but at the same time she wished she hadn’t. Alix was just a kid dealing with bullies. What could she do that could help prevent some horrific war?

“You’ll figure it out Alix, we always do. I believe in you, which is kind of you believing in yourself already but, you need to believe in yourself too kiddo. I know you feel angry, and sad, and guilty. You made a mistake and it seems like you know that, and accept it, but you also need to forgive yourself or you’ll be stuck in the past. And that’s no way to live.” Bunnyx stood from her place on the bed before nodding her head at Alix’s desk where she saw a floating creature. It probably would have freaked her out if she hadn’t felt so mentally and emotionally drained. She watched as Bunnyx called for her transformation and opened a portal. 

“How will I know what to do?” 

“You’ll know, we have good gut-instincts, listen to them. I promise mini-me, we can get through this.” 

Alix watched as Bunnyx left through her portal and there was still panic but mostly she just felt numb, but she couldn’t ignore the voice in the back of her head that was trying to connect Marinette’s akumatization and disappearance with what future her had just told her about. Maybe it was just her further obsessing over those events and wanting them to be the root of the problem because that would justify her anger and pain, or maybe it was instinct. 

[akitokihojo]

Monster - Chapter 15

chapter index

..... sorry guys

She’d been having strange, ominous dreams for days now. Dreams that were so vague, Kagome could barely describe them to Inuyasha once she’d come out of it. He’d said she seemed uncomfortable in her sleep, woke her up once or twice to see if she was having a nightmare, but the moment Kagome roused, it was like the pressing vision faded. She recalled bits and pieces, but she couldn’t remember the emotion present, she couldn’t remember what was happening, and she wasn’t even sure if she knew what was going on while in the dream to begin with.

All she could remember was red.

Everything was in red.

Her hands were red.

The sky was red.

The world was red.

And, waking up to see natural colors, to see the light shade of Inuyasha’s tied back hair, to see his golden eyes reflected with the humble flames of their midnight fire was almost like a shock.

She’d blink, she’d take deep breaths that she wasn’t able to while captured by the vivid nightmare, and after just a few moments, Kagome would come down and forget anything that wasn’t red. She was fine. She’d fall back asleep just fine, and unless she was dragged right back into the vision - which had only occurred once - she’d rest well, thereafter.

Kagome had reduced it to nothing more than an odd string of subconscious play. They were dreams without a meaning. Only a couple of times had they really stolen any energy from her, but other than that, Kagome dismissed what she couldn’t remember and apologized for worrying Inuyasha.

The hanyou chose a high tree branch to perch in one night. Something was off, he could physically feel it, but there was nothing in the air that could guide him to what stung at his instincts. He’d covered Kagome in his crimson robe, and she’d been curled up on her bag as a makeshift pillow, undisturbed and about as comfortable as she could get. Not a single line creased her brow, and her lips were relaxed as she slept through the night, the hoot of owls, the chirp of crickets, and the crack of burning logs the only sounds that stood the potential of waking her. But still, Inuyasha couldn’t shake this feeling. Something was wrong.

There was a sharp twinge of dread hitting his chest, so he stood from his seat, trying to get a better eye over the tops of trees to hopefully spot something. Nothing. There was a scent, but he couldn’t place it. There wasn’t noise to back it up. He heard no yelling, no conversation, no roars, or calls, or even the crack of twigs being broken from the weight of bodies stepping over them. In fact, with this sensation of apprehensiveness hanging over him, the silence was only making it worse.

Below him, there was a small shuffle from Kagome and immediately his eyes fell down to her. She’d merely readjusted herself, laying more on her back now than her side. Her cheek hit her shoulder, one arm was at her hip, and the other rested over her stomach - his robe only managing to cover her belly and down now. Taking a moment to observe her carefully, he gathered the steady rise and fall of her chest. Everything seemed to be as it should. She was fine. So, steadily, his attention shifted back out to the horizon of the forest they dwelled in.

That aroma. He knew it. It was coming closer, and the nearer it grew, the more powerful it became. At this point, it was all a matter of patience. With the direction his body faced, the scent was coming from his right. It smelled of the woodlands and an extremely subtle campfire that he could have easily dismissed as his own immediate surroundings. The only thing that tipped him off was the staleness of the fragrance. It was old, it was laced with an abundance of sweat, and just as he caught the startling odor of that monster appear, the metallic smell of blood singed at his nose.

Kagome opened her eyes, feeling her feet on the hard, packed dirt of the forest. There were whispers around her, but she couldn’t tell what direction they were coming from, feeling incoherent, even dizzy where she stood. She stared at the setting, again shrouded in a haze of red, but everything was so blurry. No matter how many times she blinked, nothing would focus. The world was spinning around her, growing deeper in shade, bringing Kagome to feel nauseous and slap the heels of her hands around her temples to silence the blaring headache that slammed into her out of nowhere.

Her feet stumbled backward, unable to keep her footing, not knowing left from right, up from down, and her back hit the rough bark of a large tree, scraping as she inadvertently slid down to a squat. That was where she was safe from falling, safe to keep her eyes squeezed shut.

Where was she? This time, she was in her own body, she could tell. With a little wiggle of her ankle in her boot, Kagome felt the shape of her father’s blade rub against her, she felt the top beneath her shirt that kept her chest secure with each heavy inhale that pressed her ribs outward, she heard her own voice as she grunted shakily from the bile that threatened her esophagus. Why? What had she done? Where was Inuyasha? Where was she?

The whispers were beginning to reach her ears more clearly now. Kagome could feel the nausea gradually passing. Her fingers still trembled, but they were steadying little-by-little with each focused breath she exhaled. Again, she blinked her eyes open, noticing that now her surroundings were more centered. But, why, why was everything red again?

It felt like looking through stained glass. Every direction she turned was hued all the same. No greens, no browns, no blues, or violets, but the shadows of the night still remained black, terrifying, menacing in this particular environment.

The voices were no longer whispers. They were clear. Two women. From somewhere behind her. Kagome pushed herself from the tree, appreciative to have her own mobility this time around. She moved carefully, watching her step, walking as lightly as possible so as not to give her position away.

“Don’t take me back to him.” One said demandingly. The voice was deep, weighted, muttered between alarming breaths. “I don’t want to die in his arms.”

“I only need your blood. While it’s warm.” This voice was stable, somber.

“Don’t come near me!”

“Look, I didn’t want to do this! I had no choice! I’m telling you he didn’t request for your body; he just wants your blood!”

“For what!?”

“Proof!”

“No!” She sobbed. Kagome recognized that waver, that desperation. She’d known it all along, but had been too in denial to accept that this may be a possibility. Kikyo.

It was Kikyo.

Heedless with her movements now, Kagome rushed through the trees to close the distance, physically stopped by a forcefield that felt to grasp her and hold her captive as soon as she turned the corner and caught sight of the actual scene. It felt as if invisible vines had wrapped around her body, gluing her arms to her sides, immobilizing her and wrapping around her mouth so she couldn’t make a sound - forced to watch but not allowed to interact.

Kikyo was on the floor, trying to sit up against the trunk of a tree, bleeding profusely from her shoulder and chest, covered in sweat and crimson and tears. Her large, beige blouse was sullied horribly, drenched, clinging to her thin frame as if to emphasize her life-threatening wounds.

“Kikyo, I have to! He’ll kill me if I don’t!” She was a tall woman. Beautiful. But, her eyes radiated fear. Her skin was peached, complimented by the moonlight, her short, brown hair tied half up, though strands had escaped to fall down by her cheeks in their charade. Her lips had been painted with a dark rouge, faded but stained.

“I’m not going to survive this! Is that not enough!?”

Kagome tried to scream, to fight, to let this woman know she had a new opponent to take on, to let Kikyo know help was here and she’d be okay, but she couldn’t do a thing. This felt like more than restraints now. She felt like she was under a spell. Or, that maybe she wasn’t even actually there, merely watching on through a red-tinted window. Neither of them had acknowledged her loud footsteps approaching before she’d been caught, neither of them had turned to see her as she ran into the narrow clearing. Even if she was being held at bay right now, the enemy should have at least noticed her.

Quickly, she’d deduced that this was Kikyo’s dark magic at play. And, for the first time, she wished she knew at least a little so that she could subdue the opposite conjurer’s and stand a chance at saving her.

“It’s not! I’m sorry! You know him as well as I do, you know it isn’t enough for him!”

“You’re his creation! You’re practically his child! Don’t act like you pity me! That only makes you appear more vile!”

“You think I care how vile I look right now!?” The enemy snapped, screaming brokenly. “I had no choice, Kikyo! He’s got a little girl in captivity! If I die, what chance does she stand!? I am the only thing protecting her right now, so if it’s between you and me, I choose me! Do not mistake my obedience as admiration for that monster! I hate him! I loathe him! Naraku is the bane of my existence, and I wholeheartedly wished for you to kill him! He knew you were weak, though! He made the call! He sent me alone, because he knew with that little girl’s well being on the line, I wouldn’t come back without my objective complete!

“I do pity you, conjurer. You deserved better. And, I’m sorry I had to do this. Now, I’ll ask again: May I take your blood while it is still warm? Or, must I force it?”

“I hate him! I hate him! I hate him! I hate him. I hate - I hate him.” Kikyo had shattered. Her strong demeanor crumbled into little pieces on the earth, her blood slowly beginning to pool at her seat. The powerful confession shifted to one of saddened pleads, and she wept. She trembled and she wept. “I - I hate him. I hate… I hate…”

The demon respectfully kneeled down, taking the presumably white feather from the bun in her hair and bowing her head an inch. “I am sorry.”

“You promise not to take my body?”

“I swear to you, I will leave it here.”

“You won’t tell him where you left me?”

“If he asks, I will have no choice but to say. But, knowing Naraku, he won’t have the courage to face you. Dead or alive.”

“This is the end?”

“Unlike me, you are free now, Kikyo. Be free.”

“Take my blood. See this through. Protect the girl.”

The woman dipped her feather in the gaping wound of Kikyo’s shoulder, dousing the ends in the thick liquid that seeped out at an unforgiving rate.

“Go.” Kikyo ordered. “I wish to at least be in peace.”

Without another word, the demon nodded, rising to her feet. She didn’t bother to brush the dirt from her black dress before using her powers to create a large feather to fly off on, a powerful gust of wind taking the woman up into the sky to disappear over the treetops.

Within seconds, the world was back to normal. The stained glass had been smashed, and Kagome was looking at the setting in the normal hues their luna provided. The vines had released her so aggressively that she was nearly dropped to the floor, stumbling on her feet and to her butt as she failed to catch herself. But, she wasn’t thrusted back into the reality she’d expected to be. This wasn’t a dream. Ahead of her sat a crumpled Kikyo, trying to hold herself up as she grew weaker and weaker, more and more pale, pained, melancholic, and destroyed.

Scrambling, Kagome crawled as far as she could before she forced herself to her feet to hurry over to the conjurer. Her emotions were all over the place, like she didn’t know what to feel first, if anything at all. Panicked, horrified, angry, anxious, helpless, and they all got in the way of her nonexistent action plan.

“Wh-what? What?” Was all Kagome could stammer. Was she really here? Was this really happening? “Kikyo, you’re… what happened? I don’t -“

“I’m sorry.” Kikyo cried, breathing erratically in the hopes to swallow her own fear. “I couldn’t fight anymore. I just couldn’t fight anymore.”

“Where are you hurt!? What happened!?” Kagome frantically implored, trying to be gentle at first. It was too difficult to see in the night, and there was an awful amount of blood that made it impossible to avoid. It was terrifying, but with a swallow that Kagome forced down her throat, she grabbed Kikyo’s shirt and ripped the buttons apart, looking for the wounds to see what she could do.

The gashes were massive in comparison to her frame. They stretched from her right shoulder to the center of her chest, wide, like cracks in a carefully sculpted clay pot that could no longer contain the contents inside. It brought Kagome to gasp so horridly she choked, coughed, quaked with trepidation.

“I couldn’t fight anymore.” Kikyo repeatedly sullenly. “I’m so sorry, Kagome.”

“You’d been trying to get my attention.” Kagome said in realization, her voice low, broken, her brown eyes never leaving the large wound on Kikyo’s chest. “You needed my help.”

“No, you were too far. I had to find myself closer.”

“You needed me. You were trying - and - and I - you needed my help.” Kagome began to cry, the tears burning at her eyes as they fell to mix with the blood.

“There was no saving me.”

“I could have done - you needed me.”

“I needed you to heed my warning.”

“What - what warning?”

Kikyo took her stained hand, mustering as much energy as she could to softly brush Kagome’s cheek and pull her attention away from the ghastly wound. “That I’m out of picture now. That the responsibility is yours.”

“No.” Kagome’s bottom lip quivered as the words penetrated her mind. She didn’t want to allow them to ring with validity. This wasn’t reality. “No. No, no, no. That’s not true.” She shook her head, softly pressing on the worst portion of the wound and gradually applying more pressure. Kikyo grunted loudly from the pain it added, but didn’t move to stop Kagome as she tried to halt the bleeding. “I can still save you! Inuyasha - he can - I’ll go get Inuyasha! I’ll have him bring my bag so we can patch you up! We’ll take you to a healer! You’re still here, Kikyo! You can still live!”

“Kagome!” She cried. “It’s over! You know as well as I that there is no closing up this wound! I’ve lost too much blood as it is! Please! Just -“ Her voice died down some, gurgled slightly as she coughed and blood rose out of the corner of her mouth.

Kagome moved to sit her up some so she wouldn’t choke on it, putting all of her muscle into pulling Kikyo into her arms to support her body weight.

“I am not afraid of death.” Kikyo whispered as the blood trickled from her lips. “I’ve been dead for years as it is. I don’t have to run anymore. I don’t have to hide or - or fight. I’m tired, I’m so tired. Naraku cannot haunt me anymore if I die.” She smiled. And, Kagome clung to her tighter, trying to stifle her sobs.

“Yeah,” Kikyo breathed, almost happily. “He can’t haunt me anymore. He didn’t win. He merely released me.”

“I’m sorry.” Kagome wept, losing the battle against herself. “If I had figured it out sooner -“

“No, Kagome. I wasn’t asking for help. I needed you to - I needed you to know. I wasn’t running to you to seek your assistance. I showed you bits and pieces only to test how far I still was. It was like a map that guided me your way. I needed to show you, myself. I’ve done all I can. The rest - the rest is on you. And, I truly believe you are capable.”

“I can - I can go get Inuyasha.” Kagome offered again, fruitlessly. It felt wrong to give up, it felt wrong to accept this fate, but she could feel in her gut, in her heart, in her brain that there was nothing she could actually do to fix this. To save her.

“Please, no.” Kikyo breathed. “I don’t want to die alone. If it’s not too much to ask, stay with me. Stay with me, Kagome. Speak of beautiful things.”

“Okay.” Kagome agreed, hugging the conjurer a little closer. She tried to stabilize her breathing, but her heart was breaking. She shook and she gasped, sobbing over Kikyo, but no matter what, she was going to tell her everything wonderful in this world that she’d seen. Everything that had nothing to do with Naraku. Kikyo wouldn’t end her life with that horrible creature tainting her final thoughts, her final breath, the final beat of her heart. Kikyo was going to leave this realm in serenity. “I-I’ve never seen so many flowers as I have since leaving home. Most of the flowers in my area are weeds, or dandelions. Some roses, maybe. Tulips are so pretty. And, I really, really love night flowers. The ones that bloom under the moon. I - I don’t know what they’re called.”

Kikyo smiled, unbothered by the pause Kagome had to take to breath, to calm herself, to allow tears to fall so they didn’t hinder her sight. She reached up, carefully stroking tears from Kagome’s cheeks, apologetic for the blood she stained her skin with in its place.

“A few days ago, I saw a bear cub for the first time. It was so cute, but I think that’s the most scared I’ve ever seen Inuyasha.” Kagome giggled wetly. “Where there’s a cub, there’s a mama. He backed off the trail so fast, Kikyo.”

Even the dying conjurer laughed. “You and he.” She spoke, her voice raspy and weak. “Your chemistry is strong. You make a good team. I was entirely wrong.”

“I love him. And, I’m really glad I didn’t listen to you.” Kagome cried, her smile wavering.

“If that’s the case, then so am I.” She wept. “Not all love is bad.”

“No.” Kagome shook her head, searching for anything she could speak of to bring Kikyo’s smile back. “Kaede. Kaede, she’s - she’s incredible.”

“My sister?” Kikyo asked, her eyes large and hopeful, brimming with tears that streamed down her face.

With a nod, she continued. “She’s headstrong, and brilliant, and a quick thinker, and I’ve never seen a woman bully so many men and put them in their place before. It’s inspirational.”

Kikyo giggled. “Tell me more about her.”

“You’d be so proud of her. The texts about - about enchantments that she got while you two were still together, she never stopped learning them.”

“She didn’t?” Kikyo inquired with astonishment.

Kagome shook her head in reply. “No, and she helps so many with what she can do. People like us, and like Inuyasha. Those who deserve a chance, who haven’t done wrong to deserve the hands they’ve been dealt. She sets up these - these deterrents around her village and it wards demons away from scents they may be tracking, and she has special rooms designated for those on the run. Kaede’s a savior. The first time I met her, I was sick. I used too much strength and hurt myself, so Inuyasha took me to her. She had some remedies at the ready and took such good care of me. She’s sweet, Kikyo. Kaede’s a good person. She’s such a good person.”

Kikyo was reduced to sobs, but the sadness was of her own regret. Of how she couldn’t have witnessed this for herself. Overpowering that was her happiness. Kaede was healthy. She was fighting for something. She wasn’t this frail girl that hid behind people, but in fact was the person others stood behind instead.

“You’ll also enjoy that she constantly puts Inuyasha in his place.”

“I thought they were friends.”

“They are.” Kagome giggled. “But, she’s a take-no-shit kind of woman, particularly with the opposite gender, I’ve noticed. It doesn’t seem to matter who you are, if you step out of line, she’ll be the first to remind you to back up.”

“She’s always been like that. I’m so happy to see that it hasn’t gotten her into any trouble. I was always worried about that.”

“No, Kaede holds her own just fine.”

“I am. I am proud of her.” Kikyo confirmed quietly.

“I think she’d be proud of you, too.” Kagome whispered.

Kikyo trembled as she cried.

“I think she’d be unbearably proud, Kikyo. And, I think she’ll understand everything better than you think.”

“Does she know yet? About our last discussion?”

“No. Not yet.”

“Please - please tell her I love her. Add that in. Tell her I said I’ll meet her under the willow tree.”

“The willow tree?” Kagome’s voice cracked as she clenched back her sob.

“In our - in our village growing up, there was a willow tree. We always sat beneath it.”

“I’ll tell her.” She promised, gently stroking the matted hair from Kikyo’s sweat-soaked cheeks. “I promise, I’ll tell her.”

“Thank you. Thank you so - thank…”

More blood was seeping from her mouth. Kagome was drenched in it. It was warm and thick, dressing her hands, her arms, stomach, and legs. Kikyo’s skin was ghostly white, and her eyes lost any vibrancy they held before. Every swallow could be seen as it went down harshly, her throat bobbing with the movements, and it was more like she was looking through Kagome now. Not at her.

“Shh, maybe you shouldn’t talk anymore.” Kagome hushed, stroking her hair. She spoke as her own mother would to her when she was emotional, when she was devastated; softly, soothingly, patiently. The world could wait for just one moment. Right now, it was just the two of them. That’s all. That was all they needed. Just for right now. “Everything’s okay now, Kikyo. You fought so well.”

Hot tears streamed from her eyes, and the dying conjurer looked up toward the sky. The moon was so big even though it was completely full just two days prior. It felt like a greeting from mother nature. A kind, forgiving smile from the goddess that held her hand out for her to take, her long, black hair swaying behind her feminine frame with the breeze.

“I’m s- I’m sorry.” Kikyo breathed brokenly.

“Don’t be.” She whispered in reply. “You did your best. We’re all so proud of you. Thank you, Kikyo. Thank you so much.”

Kagome continued her tender brushing, holding the woman closer to her so she could hopefully feel her own warmth. Kikyo was cold, was small, her hands unable to grasp onto Kagome’s shirt any longer.

“Everything’s okay.” Kagome repeated sadly, but sweetly. “You’re going to be okay now. You don’t have to fight anymore.”

Kikyo’s eyes fluttered closed.

Her breathing came evenly.

Slowly.

Not as it should.

“You don’t have to fight anymore. It’s okay now. It’s okay.” Kagome was sobbing, shaking, fading away.

Her grip on the woman was growing weaker, she could feel it slipping. With Kikyo’s life dwindling, so was the power she used to keep Kagome to her. Carefully, she set Kikyo down so she wouldn’t chance dropping her, continuing to pet her cheeks, whispering the same, kind statements over and over until she couldn’t physically feel her cold flesh beneath her fingers any longer.

There was a moment of pitch darkness. As she blinked her eyes opened, coming to consciousness, it seemed as if all sounds followed. The song of the crickets, the fire popping just feet away. Kagome was back in her camp, her head against the bag that served as a pillow where she’d fallen asleep just hours before.

It was a dream. It was just a dream.

A nightmare.

Either way, it wasn’t real. It couldn’t have been real. I couldn’t have been.

Slowly, timidly, Kagome moved her arms, instantly feeling the uncomfortable drench of her soddened clothing sticking to her skin. It caused her heart to pound inside her chest, it caused her panic to return, and as she lifted her hands above her face, she saw the blood that stained her skin.

“Inu - Inuyasha.” She couldn’t even call out for him, she was so terrified. Her voice came out small and broken, raspy, as if she’d been screaming for hours and this was the aftereffects. “Inuyasha. Where are you?”

He’d heard her from below, movement, but it wasn’t until he’d caught the desperate whisper of his name that his ears twitched in her direction and he looked down. She was slowly sitting up, looking at her hands, and he smelled blood. A lot of it. Instantly, he jumped down from the branch, landing on his feet so roughly that he stumbled forward but never stopped on his scramble to her side.

“I’m right here, baby. I’m right -“ He froze. He was right. The blood. She was covered in it. How? There wasn’t an inch of clean skin on her hands that he could see, her charcoal shirt sticking to her chest, her abdomen, stained with such a deep red that it had his stomach sinking at a drastic rate. Frantically, Inuyasha yanked his robe off of her lower body, looking to see if there was a source, only to find her legs and boots soaked, as well.

He couldn’t speak. A huge lump had formed in his throat from the fright he felt, and his gaze climbed up her body to find her large, weeping eyes.

It had taken a moment to push passed his initial dread in order to think rationally again, but he knew the smell of Kagome. He knew the smell of her blood. This wasn’t hers. This was the metallic odor he’d caught before. He smelled the familiar scent of a person he couldn’t pin, he smelled a horrible amount of blood, Naraku, and then within a split second, it was all gone. It had him further on edge than he’d been before, but he watched. He waited. All for nothing to rise again. He’d felt like he was in a simulation of sorts and he’d just witnessed a glitch in the system.

So, how the fuck was Kagome now soddened in the very same blood he’d just smelled moments before? She was asleep. She was safe. She was under his watch. Nothing could have gotten her, so how in the hell was she looking at him with finger streaks of blood painted on her cheeks that her tears didn’t even bother to clean?

“Kikyo.” Kagome sobbed, holding her hands out before her as if she was afraid to touch herself, or him, or anything in between. “It’s Kikyo. She’s - she’s dead.”

Kikyo.

That was who it was. He knew he’d caught it. It was only once that he’d met her though, so his olfactory system wasn’t familiar enough to have memorized it.

“What do you mean she’s dead, kid?”

“She’s dead.” Kagome repeated, unable to bite back any emotion. “I saw. I was there.”

“H-how?”

She presented her hands, her arms as if they were statement enough. “Her - her magic! It was one of Naraku’s underlings! They killed her! Inuyasha, they - they -“

He closed the gap, pulling her into his lap, holding her tight. He didn’t care about the blood, or the mess. He couldn’t just watch her shatter like that. Inuyasha didn’t understand the magical aspects that some people were capable of, and he’d come to terms with the fact that not everything could be comprehended by others who didn’t experience it firsthand. He didn’t need to understand. He just needed to listen. Kagome had witnessed Kikyo’s death. There was no possible way she could be lying about that while she sat there bathed in the opposite conjurer’s blood.

Kagome shook inconsolably, sobbed loudly, but she clung to Inuyasha with an unmatched urgency. The heaves that wracked her chest became painful, but it felt like no matter how tight she held onto him, she couldn’t feel her hanyou over the liquid that smeared her body. Kikyo was still out there. Her body was still on the ground. She was cold, and alone, and nobody deserved to be left like that after death. If she was able to pull Kagome next to her in such a physical manner, that meant she was close. Very close.

“Can you - can you find her?” Kagome asked Inuyasha between gasps of air.

“What do you mean?” He asked with a gentleness he rarely presented, using the backs of his knuckles to caress her cheek.

“She’s close. She had to be in order to perform that magic. Do you smell her?”

“I did. Before.” Inuyasha admitted. “You were asleep, and I caught her scent for literally a second before it disappeared. Minutes later, you’re waking up like this.”

“But, do you smell her now? She can’t create a barrier anymore.”

Apprehensively, he spoke. “I - I can’t smell anything over you.” And, as wrong as it felt to slide her from his lap and let her go - horribly, sickeningly wrong - he did so, rising to his feet. “Give me two seconds.”

Inuyasha jumped back up to the tree branch he’d occupied before, taking it a step further to go just a bit higher. The breeze should carry something his way. He really had to focus. His instincts were glued to Kagome, his brain only bringing the noises she made, the aroma off of her his way, and he’d had to mentally shove that aside in order to concentrate on their surroundings. The moment he’d caught the heavy scent of copper, Inuyasha locked on the direction they needed to head in, memorizing what he could. He knew the moment he jumped down to grab Kagome, it’d be hard to smell Kikyo out.

His feet hit the floor, and he quickly grabbed the conjurer’s hand. He hadn’t expected her to be on her feet, he hadn’t expected her to be able to run. She was so unsteady in his arms, he’d fully anticipated carrying her, but the woman had relatively pulled herself together so quickly. They left everything at their camp aside from their weapons, and she followed him as far as he could lead. For a while, she had to stay behind him, downwind from Inuyasha so that he could scout the path, reduced to walking now as they trekked through dark, shadowed trails they could barely see through.

It was vague, but there was a sense of familiarity that Kagome felt twinge in her stomach. She wanted to say she knew where they were, but she’d only seen it in red, so how could she be sure? Noticing some disturbed dirt next to a large tree, she reached for Inuyasha, clutching his shirt to stop him so she could crouch down and look without him going too far.

She’d been here. This was where she’d dropped down. This was where she’d almost puked. The disturbed dirt was where her boots had dug into the earth as she’d sunken and scratched her back on the bark of the tree. She did know where they were.

Kagome took off running, rushing in the direction she recalled from earlier, knowing they weren’t far at all.

And, then she abruptly halted. Her feet stopped worked. Her muscles jolted painfully, and her lungs clenched in her chest. The only thing she could feel was an icy sensation swarm over her and the pounding of her heart as it was being forced to slow.

Kikyo laid motionless in the exact position she’d left her in. The moon shined on her, but it illuminated no color except for the crimson Kagome didn’t want to see. There was no pink in her cheeks or on her lips where there should have been at least a slight hue. She was gone. Kikyo was gone. It was real. This hadn’t been a nightmare at all.

She forced herself to amble forward, her chin quivering as she grew nearer the corpse.

“Baby -“

“No. Don’t protect me right now.” Kagome said with a melancholic shake of her head. She’d already suffered through the worst of it. She’d already witnessed the death of someone she never saw falling. If she’d wanted security, a safety net, she would have never asked Inuyasha to find Kikyo’s whereabouts. She would have stayed in camp, continued clinging to him for dear life, closed her eyes and pretended it had never happened.

Inuyasha respected her wishes. He understood this feeling completely. Right now, Kagome didn’t need someone to stand behind, to shield her, but someone to stand directly beside her in support. He could do that. He would do that. If that was what she needed, it was already hers.

The conjurer stopped just a foot away from Kikyo, noticing the markings she’d left behind before she’d returned to reality. “This was - this was where I… I sat here.” Kagome admitted, feeling the hot tears brimming again as she glanced over her shoulder at Inuyasha. “I held her. While she - while she died. I told her about Kaede.”

“You held her?” The hanyou couldn’t help the sympathetic curve of his brow, or the frown that pushed at his lips.

She nodded, looking back at Kikyo’s body. “She didn’t want to be alone. She was just so happy to not have to be haunted by Naraku anymore.”

“Those dreams you’d been having. They’re connected aren’t they?”

“It was Kikyo. She was using our connection to find me. She wanted me to know what was happening first hand, but she needed to be closer.” Kagome found herself kneeling down at Kikyo’s side, feeling like the right thing to do was pick Kikyo right back up into her arms and continue comforting her, but she resisted. If she’d done that, there was a strong chance she wouldn’t have been able to put her down. “That means, she’d been running, and hiding, and doing everything she could to stay alive for days. What’s it been since the first vision? Four? Five?”

“Kagome, it’s not your fault.”

“She should have told me where she was. We could have helped her.” Though tears streamed from her eyes, she didn’t sound to be sobbing. Her tone was so sunken, so sad it was almost devoid of all emotion.

“But, she didn’t. That’s not on you. What did she tell you? She had to have given some sort of explanation.”

“She said she knew she wasn’t going to survive. That she just wanted me to know that - that she was gone. That she couldn’t fight anymore.” Kagome blinked away the sadness that refused to stop flowing through her eyes. Naraku didn’t win. He wasn’t allowed to even think he’d won. All he’d done was set her free. Much like Kikyo said, he’d released her. “I think it was Kagura. The woman that killed Kikyo. She was apologetic. Remorseful. And, she mentioned having no choice but to do this because she had a child’s safety to ensure. That means Sesshomaru’s family is still alive. They’re okay.”

“Don’t worry about that right now, kid.” Inuyasha sighed, sauntering over to kneel beside her. He didn’t like the way she looked right now, how she wouldn’t even glance at him anymore. Her eyes were dull and listless, drowning in grief. He wished she’d weep again. He wished she’d crumble. At least that way she’d be getting all of it out of her system. But, this? This was the works of the sorrow taking her hostage. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”

“I don’t want to think about me right now.” She confessed. “This isn’t about me. Later. I promise.”

“Okay.” Inuyasha breathed, accepting her compromise. He took a moment, sealing his lips, pushing her hair behind her ear as she stared on at the corpse. With the way her fingers twitched forward, he could tell she was wanting to feel Kikyo again, hold her, console her. Like, she was trying to come to terms with the fact that it wasn’t necessary anymore. She was dead.

“We should,” He sighed. “We should bury her. You want to do that?”

Kagome nodded. “Yeah. But, not here.”

“Not here?” He echoed, more for a reach into her mind to understand.

“Kagura told Kikyo that if Naraku asked where her body was located, she’d have to tell him. Kikyo doesn’t want Naraku to have her body. I don’t want him to find her.”

“Okay. Let’s find some place else, then. Come on.” Inuyasha held his hand out for her, waiting patiently until she took it.

He let her guide their way. He didn’t mind the silence, or the loose grip she had on his fingers. He didn’t mind her minor stumbling, or how she was aimlessly wandering. Inuyasha would be able to find their way back, and he would walk however far Kagome deemed appropriate.

They came upon a hillside that overlooked a valley. It was green, dewy from the moisture in the crisp air, and peppered with wildflowers. Instantly, he knew Kagome’s attention was on the single tree just to their right. Before she’d even pulled him in that direction, he knew.

“In the daytime, she’ll be shaded, but at nighttime, she’ll have a clear shot of the stars. What do you think?” She asked. She’d finally stopped crying, her cheeks positively stained with streaks of old blood and salt. Yet, she was still capable of being kind, of being compassionate. Kagome didn’t choose a spot at random, but put some thought into the scenery that felt right.

“I think it’s perfect.” He answered. Pointing to a spot that he felt would be best covered by the branches above, Inuyasha asked, “Here?”

“Yeah.”

It wasn’t the easiest, but they dug a whole that ran deep, one the average demon's nose wouldn’t be able to catch a whiff of the deceased through. One Inuyasha felt would properly shield Kikyo from Naraku within. They traveled back to grab Kikyo, and Inuyasha was careful with how he carried her, handling the former conjurer with extreme care as Kagome followed immediately behind with her discarded bow to bury her with.

The sun was beginning it’s ascent as they returned to the gravesite, and by the time Kikyo was fully laid to rest, the sky blended with awakening tints of pink and blue. Inuyasha remained quiet, respectful as Kagome continued to pat the dirt to ensure it was packed firmly. It was easy to tell she was hesitant to leave Kikyo. He could physically feel the remorse she waded through, but still, he wished she’d shed tears again. It hurt so bad to watch her suffer in silence, to watch her shut down, to watch her fingers tremble while he could do nothing to ease her heartache.

It was one thing to understand a person you knew had died. It was one thing to learn of it from another, or even to witness it from a safe distance. But, to hold them as it happened? To see the light fade from their eyes, to hear their voice trail away, to feel them grow heavy in your arms, it was an entirely different story. It was traumatizing. He’d been there. He held his mother. He held a few strangers he’d found mauled, on their final breath, and so afraid to die alone. It was hard. He knew firsthand that Kagome was going to continue to feel the weight of Kikyo in her arms throughout the duration that she mourned, as if the woman were still present and there. He knew firsthand that Kagome was going to wash the blood from her body but still see it as if it had seeped through the first layer of her flesh and she’d need to scrape it all off until her skin was angry, raw, and prickling with her own blood. And, there was nothing he could do to save her from that. Those feelings were going to demand her undivided attention, and the only thing Inuyasha was aware he could offer was his unwavering support. No matter how badly he wanted to protect her, even steal the emotions away to be felt as his own so that she wouldn’t have to shoulder them, he knew he couldn’t.

In no way did he plan on allowing her to sink into those dark thoughts he was all too conscious of. The ones that dragged you down while you were weakened by a state of grieving, that made you feel like there was no amount of sunlight that could brighten the darkness. As time had passed and Kagome merely stared at the grave, silent, motionless, the hanyou made the call. It was time to go.

At her side, he held out his hand. “Come on, Kagome.” He’d spoken so softly. Her dull gaze slowly shifted to his extended fingers, and by instinct, she went to place her hand in his, but paused halfway.

It was the guilt. That she got to continue living while Kikyo did not. That Kikyo would be left here alone. All alone. Kagome’s hand faltered back and forth between taking Inuyasha’s and touching the dirt that bedded the former conjurer. All the while, he was patient. He knew she would understand that she couldn’t stay here forever, and he didn’t have to articulate the reminder. Kagome would choose to move forward.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered to Kikyo, and before long, her fingers slid within Inuyasha’s gentle grasp.

The hanyou assisted her to a standing. “She doesn’t have to fight anymore. She’s at peace now.”

“I know.” The surviving conjurer replied quietly. He could tell, at the moment, his statement was in one ear and out the other. She wasn’t in the right state of mind to receive reassurance. Her walls were up. And, he had a feeling he’d know when she was ready.

They made their way back to their campsite to gather the few things they’d left behind. Inuyasha knew she wouldn’t want to stay. He didn’t need to kick out what embers may have still remained because they’d long died off on their own. Instead, he took the bag before she could secure it over her shoulders. He couldn’t do much for her right now, but the least he could do was remove the physical weight from her back.

Kagome wasn’t talkative in the least, didn’t even make a sound when she’d accidentally tripped over a root and stumbled into his arm, the gasp she’d released so light even he had hardly caught it. She needed to rest, he was more than aware, but he knew that if he verbally made the suggestion, Kagome would shake her head to decline. She’d closed herself off so much, he was certain she didn’t even realize they were still covered in dried blood and dirt. As far as he was concerned, it was his executive decision to make. So, he sought out a river, or a lake, or any small body of water they’d be able to wash off in.

He’d thought he’d been following the sounds of a stream, but as the rushing water became more thunderous than expected, he’d realized they were at the bottom of a waterfall. It was secluded, it was peaceful, it was where they were calling it a day. And, he meant that. He didn’t care if she wanted to keep going after they’d cleaned up, and he didn’t care if they got into an argument because of it; Kagome needed to sit down and rest. She hadn’t gotten much sleep as it was, and she couldn’t just walk this feeling off. She, of all people, should know.

To his surprise, as they forced their way through bushes to come out onto the greenery that surrounded the pool, Kagome seemed to have no objections. She knew what they were there for, and as he set the bag down, removing the sheath of his sword from the loop in his belt, she dropped her bow and quiver from her shoulders to the ground beside them. After placing her father’s knife in the pile, she followed the hanyou into the water, neither yet bothering to remove any clothing.

Inuyasha reached for her hands, which this time she didn’t hesitate to take, holding the both of his as he pulled her in deeper. For the first time in hours, Kagome sighed out heavily, a little shakily. The pool was cold, it was a shock to the system, and it served to both cleanse her person while jolting her out of the bleak depths of her depressive state.

The hanyou gently began washing her palms off, taking meticulous care, and finally he heard her voice. It was cracked, it was small, but it was her voice.

“I can do it.” She claimed. And, he gave her a small grin of acknowledgment, releasing his meager grip to give her space.

Kagome dunked her hands in the water, beginning to rub the filth on her fingers away. Some of it washed off easily, but a good portion was stuck to her skin. It would have been easier if she had a rag, or maybe something coarse. Something that could lift the crimson stain so she’d never have to see it again. Utilizing the next best thing that she had, Kagome removed her shirt, balling up the ruined cloth and plunging it into the pool. For some reason, she’d tried to rinse it the best that she could, no matter how much of a lost cause it was from the start.

Grabbing an end that wasn’t stained, Kagome used it to scrub at her hands, finding it helped substantially. She continued up her arms, taking her time, but during which, finding her stability wavering. As she washed the remaining evidence of the last of Kikyo’s life away, she revisited the wounds that marred her flesh, her final words, the way her eyes faded, and hot tears quickly brimmed that had to be blinked away.

“I’m gonna dive.” Kagome mentioned, warning Inuyasha so he wouldn’t worry.

She took a deep breath, and down she went, kicking off of the rocks beneath her feet to swim deeper into the pool. Coming up to the surface, Kagome treaded in the water for a moment, quickly acclimating to the temperature now that she’d fully submerged. She backed up until her feet could reach some of the loose, mossy floor beneath, and then continued until she was only engulfed from the chest down. Even the cold didn’t help anymore. Kagome couldn’t silence her grief, tears streaming from her eyes as her breathing became heavy and sputtered once more.

Kikyo was gone. She was gone. She could still feel her in her arms, she could still hear her cries. She was told it wasn’t her fault, but if that were true, why did Kagome feel such a horrible sense of remorse in the pit of her chest? Why did she feel so guilty? Just because Kikyo felt she couldn’t be saved didn’t mean Kagome shouldn’t have tried. Why hadn’t she figured out the visions were coming from Kikyo? How could she not have pieced that together sooner? It didn’t matter that she had never experienced the detrimental tint of red before, it didn’t matter that she was apparently seeing things through Kikyo’s eyes for just small glimpses at a time. They were reoccurring and precise. How could she have dismissed them as nothing more than dreams without a meaning? She was smarter than that. It felt insensitive to have belittled them as such, it felt cruel of her to shrug them off and carry on with her day while Kikyo had been fighting for her life. Kagome had failed. She’d failed herself, and she’d failed her friend.

Her sobs were beginning to wrack her body, like hyperventilated breaths that made it hard to actually attain oxygen. This sadness, this thick sludge of loss was impossible to ignore, and instead of trying to regain control over herself while it wasn’t necessary, instead of reaching for composure that was miles away, Kagome turned around to face Inuyasha.

He’d been watching her. Carefully. Closely. All while minding her space. He, himself, had removed his shirt using it to scrub clean, but he never had his eyes off of her for more than a second at a time. Each gasp he heard her breathe as she began to cry was like a thorn to his heart. It was difficult to respect the distance she’d created, but as the water rippled, and she turned his way, looking at him with such a sorrowful expression, that was all he needed in order to know that he no longer had to. She was ready for him.

Taking his cue, Inuyasha waded over, his arms catching her as she closed the distance herself by bounding into his chest.

“I’ve got you, baby.” He whispered soothingly into her hair, tightening his hold around her as she cried against him. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Inuyasha kissed her head, stroked his fingers over the soaked backside of the top that supported her breasts, gently pet her hair, and waited patiently. He would have stood there holding her all fucking day and night if that was what it took. He didn’t care. If this was what Kagome needed, then nothing stood the chance of pulling him away from her.

As her weeping gradually died down, and the aftershocks of hiccups shook her core, his hands began to massage at her upper back, creating tiny ripples of water with his skillful movements. Her arms had slackened some around his waist, but Kagome still nuzzled into his chest.

“I can’t get all of the blood off of me.” She mentioned, her words raspy. Broken.

“You got most of it. I saw. You want my help?” Inuyasha spoke sweetly.

“Please.” Kagome nodded against him, leaning back the tiniest bit. “Is it - is it still on my face?”

Inuyasha didn’t answer just yet, dipping his hands in the water before bringing his thumbs up and gently rubbing against her cheeks. “Not anymore.”

He didn’t say anything else before his hands traveled downward, washing her chest, applying a little more friction to the mess on her stomach, all the while placing a tender kiss to the center of her forehead.

“I’m sorry. I have to ask this.” Inuyasha whispered into her ear. “But, I wasn’t there, so I don’t know the situation. Were you hurt, kid?”

In response, Kagome shook her head. “Kikyo protected me with her magic. Kagura didn’t even know I was there.”

“Then, what’s this on your back?” He asked, gently rubbing over the scraped area as he had numerous times already.

“That was me.” She said, tucking herself back into his arms so he’d rest his chin on top of her head. “I stumbled into a tree.”

It wasn’t until her nerves had died down and she began to shiver that Inuyasha made the decision to guide her out of the water. Their soaked clothes were set out to dry, and the both of them were soon donned in fresh apparel, sitting around a fire she’d insisted on being the one to build.

Kagome hadn’t wanted to deal with her hair, finding herself growing impatient just by brushing the damp tangles away. As soon as the last of it was smoothed out, she grabbed her hair tie and set to braiding it, uncaring of the uneven chunks of hair that she grabbed while she started at the crown of her head and worked her way down.

“That’s cute.” Inuyasha smiled, crouching before her and taking it upon himself to fix her loose bangs. The only reply she could muster was a lazy crinkle of her nose, bringing a chuckle from his lips as he got some fish cooking over the fire.

At first, he’d figured she didn’t want to talk about anything, but before long, Inuyasha realized it was more that she couldn’t. Kagome looked exhausted. Her emotions were justifiably all over the place, and in her state, how could she be expected to be able to put them into words? He wasn’t the least bit bothered by her silence or how far she seemed to sit from him. Truthfully, he figured it was all absentminded action. At least now she didn’t seem so sunken inward. Her irises were still dull, but there was the glimmer of Kagome in them again. He suspected that slowly, steadily, she would return at her own rate. And, Inuyasha would be right there when she did.

Kagome managed to eat more than he’d expected of her, and though he’d left her alone to rest, he knew she was fighting it. Couldn’t say he blamed her for that. It was twilight, but a monotonous one. No gorgeous colors glowed in the sky to end their day, and from their position behind the mountain, they couldn’t even see the sun as it fell. Before they knew it, the two of them were shadowed completely, the air quickly growing crisp as it lost the warmth that the sun provided.

It was chilly. She sat near the fire, but being so close to the waterfall had a draft hitting them that was hard to ignore. Kagome was trying not to make it obvious. She knew Inuyasha was already worried about her, and he had been so kind, and sweet, and diligent all day, so she was scared that merely shivering would exacerbate his concern. She’d considered laying down, trying to sleep, but it was hard to close her eyes for more than a second without seeing Kikyo’s body. Even now, there was still a hard lump caught in her throat that made it difficult to swallow. She was just all cried out for the moment. Her eyes burned with fatigue, her chest ached from the hiccups that had taken forever to go away, her muscles felt sluggish and heavy, and her head throbbed horrendously.

For some reason, her attention kept shifting to Inuyasha. He was leaning back against a tree, sitting nonchalantly as he gazed up at the sky. Why were they so far apart? Why had she sat alone? Maybe because she was worried about bothering him further or seeming clingy. Would Inuyasha actually mind if she was clingy for a little while? She honestly couldn’t see him being bothered by it. At all. She didn’t want him to just allow it because she was in a bad state of mind at the moment, though. Like he pitied her. She didn’t want pity. She wanted compassion. But, this was Inuyasha. This was her Inuyasha. If she wanted to be near him and didn’t act on it, and he found out later, he’d probably call her an idiot. No, he’d call her worse. If she wanted to touch him but kept to herself out of fear of bothering him, Inuyasha would give her the look. The look that said more than his mouth ever could, and that was saying something given Inuyasha was probably the most outspoken person she’d ever met. It was a glare that scolded, a slant of his eyes that condemned her, but there was no frown. His lips were set straight, pulled in no direction, and it was probably what made the expression worse since she couldn’t read what level of upset he was actually conveying. It was rare that he ever looked at her that way, but she’d seen it twice, maybe three times, before. And, it was the one thing he could do to make her truly pout in shame.

Resolved and hopeful for an inkling of peace she knew his arms would provide, Kagome picked herself up from her spot, sauntering over to the hanyou. His eyes shifted her way, and as she grew closer, a small, welcoming smile appeared. The empty spot beside him didn’t suit her liking, though. As odd as it seemed, it just wasn’t close enough. Feeling a rush of shyness mix into her already-swarming emotions, all Kagome could bring herself to do in order to communicate was glance down at his legs while she stood in front of him. Verbal communication was far out of reach, but she knew Inuyasha was the only person who’d learned to understand her with or without.

Inuyasha’s grin only inched wider when she gave such a subtle signal for him to take. She wanted his lap. Honestly, he was just happy she wanted to be near him right now. He’d fully accepted that she needed her space and was going to respect it, but he’d be a lying sack of shit if he didn’t admit that he wanted to at least be within arms reach for his own sense of comfort. Having her sit across their camp was hard while he knew she was struggling and all he wanted to do was help, but he was more than willing if it was what she’d wanted. But, now she wanted him.

He outstretched his bent legs, patting on his thighs for her to lay on as she had several times before, but this time Kagome gave a small shake of her head. At first, Inuyasha was a little confused. He’d read her correctly, right? She does want his lap, right?

“Not like this?” He asked. And, Kagome replied with a shake of her head in confirmation. “Did you want to sit?”

She gave a small nod, pointing in between his legs. In another attempt to get it right, Inuyasha bent his legs as they’d just been, spreading them wider so she had room to sit between his thighs. Again, she shook her head, a bashful flush heating her face as she bit her bottom lip.

“Oh,” He chuckled. “I know what you want.”

Of course. It was foolish of him not to think of it first. Kagome didn’t want to just sit with him, or lean against him. She wanted to be held by him. She wanted to be tucked so securely against him that nothing stood the chance of harming her. She wanted, just for a moment, to not have to put up a strong demeanor. She wanted to shrink into his chest, his arms, she wanted to close her eyes, and she wanted the sound of his heartbeat to mute all other thoughts her mind could threaten her with.

Inuyasha folded his legs, watching the tiniest smile pull at the corners of her lips when he opened his arms to invite her in. She carefully crawled into his lap, her own legs folding over one of his thighs as she curled into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist and nuzzling against him.

“Better?” He asked just before kissing her temple. Kagome granted him a hum of approval, sighing out deeply as he hugged her close, tight, safe.

Inuyasha relaxed back against the tree, enjoying the feel of how her breath hadn’t yet synced to his. The push of her lungs met his abdomen in disagreement with his own pattern, matching their own rhythm, and it brought him a sensation of tranquility. When their breathing matched, it wasn’t that he didn’t love it. It was more that it just became too second nature and he had to focus to make sure her lungs were really doing their job. But, when she opposed his own, he didn’t need a reminder. He could feel it.

Quicker than he’d expected, Kagome’s weight began to increase against him. She was falling asleep. His arms were snug around her, his chin was resting on top of her head, and if he didn’t risk pulling her from that in between state, he’d be kissing her goodnight right now. It was that in between state that he knew was the most worrisome, though. Where you weren’t quite unconscious so the thoughts that you barely kept at bay during the day could sneak up on you at any given moment without so much as a barrier to hold them back. All Inuyasha could hope for was her serenity. Kagome deserved that much. She deserved to rest right now. And, as he felt her breathing deepen, a small twitch from her fingers on his backside, he knew she’d gotten past it without harm, sleeping soundly in the refuge of his protection.

—

It would be an understatement to say Kagura was shaken. The choice of vocabulary was laughable in comparison to what she’d actually felt. She was no saint. She’d done horrible things in her lifetime. Before she thought to escape her “father,” Kagura had done his bidding without so much as blinking an eye. She’d murdered, she’d robbed, she’d come home covered in blood belonging to numerous people at a time, took a bath, then moved on with her life without feeling an ounce of compunction. It wasn’t that she could claim she had a conscience. In fact, she was sure she was deliberately created without one. If Naraku surely didn’t own one, how could she? That didn’t mean she wasn’t smart enough to know right from wrong. That didn’t mean she wanted to be the same sort of beast Naraku was. That was where he’d made his mistake in creating her. He’d given her a mind of her own.

Naraku was more than vile. His twisted laughter at another’s expense caused her stomach to churn and ache, his malicious smile made her welcome the dark so she’d never have to see it, his unforgiving brutality had her wishing for her own death at times, and it wasn’t all that long after her rise that a switch flipped in her brain and she realized she wanted to be as far removed from him as she could possibly get.

Maybe that meant she did have a conscience. Maybe she’d developed one after so many pleading screams had echoed in her ears. Maybe running away and experiencing love was both the best and worst thing for her, because killing Kikyo was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do.

It was too easy. It was entirely too easy. Why was she ordered to kill Kikyo when she was on her deathbed as it was? The conjurer had run herself dry, depleted her energy, and was so far gone that no matter how well she’d tried to take care of herself thereafter, there was no coming back from it. Kikyo would have died on her own in just a matter of weeks if things continued as they were. So, why the hell did Kagura have no other choice but to savagely murder her?

She knew the story. She knew how Naraku attempted to corrupt Kikyo, how they’d met when she could still be considered a child, how that monster upheaved her life, flipped it upside down, and burned any future she may have been able to create for herself. Naraku had singlehandedly made that woman’s world hell, and Kagura was furious that she had to personally see to the end of it. Naraku killed her spirit, and Kagura killed her heart.

And, she knew what was about to happen. She knew Naraku too well not to know what sort of reaction waited for her on the other side of the manor. As disgusting as it was, while he was still human, he truly did harbor some sort of affection for Kikyo. And, Kagura had her blood dripping down her fingers.

She took a deep breath, easily shoving aside her conflicting emotions so that she could get this over with. She’d been gone for too long as it was, so any feelings that slowed her down were useless right now. Kagura’s heels clicked along the hard floor, a frown curving at her stained lips as she approached the study and entered through the cracked door.

He’d smelled it. He’d smelled her coming, and he smelled the liquid oozing from the feather she held and down her hand. That was why Naraku was already staring at the door, that was why his jaw was hard and set, that was why his red eyes were more piercing than she’d ever seen in her entire life. Kagura instantly understood that she had underestimated the situation. From the way the half demon bristled at the other end of the room, from the way his tentacles curled malignantly, and the spider legs that grew out of the free space of his back appeared and stiffened, from the way his demonic energy began to swirl like she’d only felt a handful of times, things were already appearing to be worse than she’d imagined. It’d caught her off guard. She froze in the entryway, apprehensive, her breathy gasp caught in her throat to emphasize the hollow.

“That - that’s -“ It seemed like her master was in a state of shock. Kagura had never seen his lips twitch this way, or his chin quiver in the manner it did now. “Did you…”

“Miss Kagura, you’re -“ Rin’s small smile of greeting faded as quickly as it had appeared as the man standing just a few feet away from where she sat on the floor playing with dolls screamed at her so loud, his voice cracked.

“SHUT UP!” Naraku had curled his spine some, his thick fingers positively quaking. “Did you do it, Kagura!? Is she dead!?”

“She’s - yes.” Kagura answered unsteadily, eyes wide and breath trembling. “Yes, I did it. Kikyo’s dead.”

“And, that’s her blood?” He didn’t need to ask that question. She knew his sense of smell was somehow stronger than her own.

“It is.”

“You’re unscathed. How? Kikyo is strong, you should have come back half mangled! You’re lying! You betrayed me again, didn’t you!? You made a deal with that cunt and took some of her blood to try and fool me! She’s still alive out there, isn’t she!?” He raced over to her, grabbing Kagura by the throat and pinning her against the wall before she could so much as think to react. She’d had to ignore the little girl’s scream, her broken cry, praying she’d keep the promise they’d made when she’d first arrived. If Naraku were to ever do anything to Kagura, Rin swore to keep her distance. Rin swore never to run up and try and do something her father would, because Naraku wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her. “Isn’t she!?”

“N-Naraku.” Kagura gurgled, trying to push him off, to pry her neck from his grip with her free hand while preserving the evidence she held in the other. “Kikyo’s - Kikyo’s dead.”

It was another moment before Naraku’s eyes went blank, his fingers gradually releasing Kagura, and a thick swallow had his Adam’s apple bobbing.

She gasped in some air, recovering as quickly as she could to give the explanation he was looking for before he could grow angry again. “Kikyo did strike me.” She said, pointing to a tear in her gown on her arm that she’d received days before. “It’s just healed already.”

“She’s a conjurer. You should have been dead from her strike.”

“She was dying, Naraku. She hardly had any power left in her.”

“How is that possible?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know the logistics of their kind. She looked passed the point of fatigue. When I had appeared, she had this look in her eyes. Like, her final chance had just been stolen away. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Try.” He said through gritted teeth.

“I saw hope, but I saw it gradually fizzle the nearer I got.” Kagura said. “You were the one who’d told me she was weak and sick. Why is this coming as such a shock to you?”

“Such impudence to question me!” Naraku yelled, slapping the back of his hand across Kagura’s face. Forcefully, he jerked the feather from between her fingers. “This will tell me if you’re lying.”

The monster hovered the stained, white object close to his face, observing it intensely, intimately. His red irises traveled over each minor detail of the feather, gazing at the blood with a sense of dedication that steadily shifted into desire. It was grotesque. It was disturbing. It had Kagura pressing herself flush against the wall in an attempt to further separate from the madman.

Dreamily, Naraku dragged the feather over his tongue, the conserved blood coloring the surface of which before he closed his mouth and took his time studying the taste. His eyes blinked hazily, sort of rolling into the back of his head as a vicious grin turned at the corners of his lips. It wasn’t wide, it wasn’t tooth-baring. It was minute, subtle, but speaking volumes of the pleasure he felt. Kagura had to swallow her shudder, tensing her entire body so she risked no involuntary, negative reactions from her muscles.

“I can taste you.” Naraku breathed.

“You sliced her.” He chuckled.

“Your demonic energy is mixed with her mortal essence.” He moaned.

“She still tastes as good as she did before.” He licked the feather again.

“Fuck,” He groaned pleasantly. “I can practically taste her final breaths.”

“She was so pathetically weak when she died.” Naraku laughed, stumbling backward as he grew intoxicated by the blood. “She’s dead. The bitch is dead! She’s dead!” But, then his glee began to dwindle, his crazed eyes glued to the feather as he began to furl his spine forward. The extra appendages on his back began slithering, growing, twitching erratically. His mental state had slipped, his footing was unstable as he continued to stumble backward, to the side, forward, stopping in the center of the floor when his spider legs planted roughly and supported him. He neither blinked nor swallowed, drool with the slightest tint of red dripping from his opened lips to dribble down his chin while his smile fell into a horrible, enraged frown. It was processing. His ex-lover was deceased. She was no more. Kikyo’s existence was gone, and even he, with the decrepit heart that beat within his chest, felt the pain of loss. “She’s dead? She’s dead? She’s dead. She’s - she’s - no.”

With a quick a demanding snap of her fingers, Kagura looked to the terrified and crying girl on the carpet, directing Rin to run to her side immediately with a point. The patter of her feet was rushed as she scrambled up and away from her spot, opening her arms wide for Kagura to grab her and pick her up, securing her against her body.

Naraku’s energy was soaring. It was so irate that a literal strength circled around him, building, growing, sending objects flying, the jar on Naraku’s desk holding Moryomaru’s still and rotting heart shattering against the far wall.

“Kikyo! Kikyo, my beloved!”

As quickly as she could, Kagura tucked rin’s head down against her shoulder and raced out of the room to safety. She’d never seen him like that. She’d never witnessed just how insane Naraku could be. She’d thought she’d seen it all, she’d thought she’d lived through the worst, but the entire place was shaking with his rage, and she wondered if killing the conjurer was truly worth it now.

—

Inuyasha turned to check how far behind him Kagome was trailing. Seeing she was within arm’s reach, regarding him with a small smile had his chest feeling a little lighter. It hadn’t yet been a full week since Kikyo’s passing, just a day shy, and he couldn’t quite claim she was back to normal, but she was handling herself well. He knew the further they got from the place it all happened, and the further they got from the date, the more Kagome’s state improved.

Just recalling how she was a few days ago had a heavy throb making home in his heart. She’d wake up and her irises would seem dull and spiritless, she’d either lay or sit there for a long moment before really coming to, and then she’d check her hands. Every day, she had to make sure they were clean. Kagome said her peripheral vision was playing tricks on her. In the corner of her eyes, she still saw red staining her skin, and first thing in the morning her not-yet-functioning brain would convince her she hadn’t succeeded in cleaning it all off. He’d quickly made it a habit of checking behind him to see where she was. He was so used to her by his side that when she was missing it was unsettling, but he also comprehended that keeping up was a little more difficult at the moment than when she was mentally sound. Inuyasha didn’t want to make her feel like she needed to hurry along, though. Right now, he didn’t mind taking it easy. Their next destination, one he hadn’t brought up to her for the sake of her momentary sanity, wasn’t necessarily one he was eager to get to anytime soon, anyway. As important as it was to get there soon, it wasn’t pressing to get there now. They had a few days to spare; it could wait that long.

Kagome still broke down. She wasn’t an empty shell of herself, and sometimes the pain in her chest became too much to bear and she’d crumble where she stood. It wasn’t difficult at all to be patient, and he hushed her whenever she apologized between shuddering sobs. If she’d stop while walking and crouch down to cry, Inuyasha would stop too. He’d kneel right next to her and either stroke her hair or rub her back. He wouldn’t say a thing unless prompted, because he knew very well that this was just a form of release. If she allowed it to build up, if she swallowed it and pushed the feelings away like she used to, it would eventually become too much to bear and potentially grow worse. It would ultimately effect her mentality, and her spiritual power would be difficult to control. Kagome couldn’t allow her emotions to pave the way, so she had to let them out.

Inuyasha knew that sensation. He knew that stuffiness in the center of your chest where it felt like a literal weight was making your entire body seem heavy. He knew how quickly it expanded, how bleak it made everything seem, how it made you feel like you would never recover and you were bound to be stuck with this burden forever. So, he was glad Kagome was taking care of herself. He was glad Kagome was crying. He was glad when she looked at him with those reddened, puffy eyes and that pouting, bottom lip that jutted out just a tiny bit, and she allowed him to clean the tears from her face and express just how tender he was capable of being.

Gradually, as the days passed, she cried a little less, she fell behind a little less, she replied a little more, she smiled a little wider, and her laughter was beginning to return. Inuyasha reached behind him now, accepting her modest grin by grabbing for her hand.

“Need a break?” He asked.

“I need a snack, is what I need.” Kagome said with a little grumble

“You’re hungry?”

“I mean, I could eat.”

Inuyasha chuckled, squeezing his grip on her hand. “Okay, we can climb down the mountain for some fish and actually sit down to eat a lunch, or we can eat some berries and hope that tides us off for a while. Option A will take at least an hour given we’re pretty high up from the river, option B will take about ten minutes because I’m pretty sure I saw some bushes with berries not too far back. I’m just not sure if they were the poisonous sort or not.”

“Berries!” Kagome chose with a small bounce.

“Okay,” The hanyou had to look away then, standing no chance of subduing his flush. In such a short time, her happiness appeared so far away from him that now that she was beginning to show it again, to be herself again, it made him stupidly flustered. She was cute. Too fucking cute. Irritatingly cute. “How about I go grab the berries and you find a spot to relax?”

“You don’t want me to go with you?” She questioned.

“Nah, you don’t need to. Don’t wander off too far, though.” He replied, slipping his hand out of hers and turning around to backtrack the trail they’d traveled.

Kagome felt a tug on her heart as he grew further. She’d felt so absent this past week that she actually missed Inuyasha, and he’d been right next to her the entire time. He’d kissed her head numerous times, her cheek, her temple, and once even on her hand, but right now she wanted that little bit of affection she’d been too far gone to receive and reciprocate. So, Kagome spun around on her heel, albeit bashfully, as she played with the sleeves of her shirt.

“Hey.” She called out, stopping her hanyou in his tracks.

Inuyasha looked over his shoulder at her, cocking a brow as he waited for her to say something. But, no words came forward. Instead, she pursed her lips, starting small until she lifted her chin, making it evident she wanted a kiss. His heart gave a delightful thud, but his entire body grew uncomfortably warm.

“Use your words.” He teased, trying to swallow his own rush of shyness. She had too much power over him and he was pretty sure she knew it. She knew he was wrapped around her finger just like the red string that knotted around their pinkies, tying them to each other. That didn’t mean he was always going to present himself as the goo his brain turned into. He was still a hard ass through and through, and he’d been nice enough where necessary. Right now, he felt well within his rights to play around with her a little.

Kagome’s mouth fell into a minor pout, finding herself just a bit too timid under his stare to say anything now. He was just taunting her to be a jerk, she was well aware of the games he played. But, she wanted a kiss, dammit. If she gave in and asked, he would only tease her more by saying something like, “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” There was no way Kagome could give him that sort of satisfaction, so again, she tried to communicate her wishes by pursing her lips, this time letting out the smallest whine.

“Is that any way to get what you want?” Inuyasha laughed.

With a skeptic arch of Kagome’s brow, her lips falling into an expression that easily said, obviously, she nodded.

He couldn’t help his sputtering laugh. Yeah, she definitely knew the effects she had on him. With a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head, Inuyasha walked right back over, rushing her at the tail end so she’d squeal and jump back just as he grabbed her, pulling her into a kiss.

“There,” Inuyasha spoke between a peck, his word murmured against her lips. “Happy?”

“Wait, one more.” Kagome replied, just as muted by his affection. “Okay, now I’m happy.” She giggled.

“I’ll be right back.” He lightly stated, giving her rear a small tap before he went to walk away again.

Kagome smiled, turning around to find a good spot to sit down for a moment. They could always just park it on the floor, which they may very well have to do given the trail they were currently on, but it was at least worth looking for a better spot.

They’d been heading uphill for a while already, and she was glad Inuyasha offered a break. She knew she’d been slowing the two of them down for days now, but it honestly couldn’t be helped. And, while she was aware he more than understood her current state, that didn’t mean she wanted to request more stops just because her legs and ass were on fire from the steep mountain they traveled on. If he hadn’t have brought it up, Kagome would have pushed through it all without complaint.

Down below, she could just barely hear the river. It was still so full from all the rain it had recently received, moving wildly along its course. As she traveled just a bit further, Kagome noticed a slim peek of rock through a break in the bushes and trees. It looked like a cliff that extended outward, overlooking the scenery - a wide one that had no previous accessibility until this point, and even now that accessibility was narrow. Still, if she were right, it would be the perfect spot to sit down and rest for a moment.

It wasn’t until she grew closer that she began to feel like something was off. It felt like an object was very subtly radiating demonic properties, yet it wasn’t a demon, itself, she was sensing. In essence, it was similar to Inuyasha’s blade, but for some reason, it also felt very different. Curious, Kagome pushed through the thick shrubbery to come out most of the way onto the cliff - extending longer than she’d anticipated. Immediately, her brown eyes landed on a man at the edge, facing away from her, his hair long, waving, darker than her own, and ruffling in the breeze. Despite the large amount of noise she’d made pushing through the bushes, the man hadn’t seemed to notice her, and if he had, he didn’t bother to turn around. Not straightaway. He was leisured as he slowly glanced over his shoulder, and it was only after the noise had completely died.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Kagome said, trying not to stare into his red irises as he gradually turned around to fully face her. She’d never seen any quite like that. Not where the pupils were white. It was piercing. Intimidating. But, the gentle smile he wore contradicted that, and that was what she chose to focus on. “I wasn’t expecting to find anyone here.”

The man still didn’t speak. His thin lips didn’t even part as if he wanted to say something. He merely gazed on at her, his head leaning ever so slightly to the side.

His silence was unsettling. Worse, his never-dying grin was becoming so, as well. What once was gentle was now disturbing. With the way he stared at her, it would be normal to perceive it as him looking straight through her, but he wasn’t. Kagome could feel it. This man’s eyes were right on her, studying her, eating her up.

“Are you - are you okay?” She asked nervously, unable to help the way her fingers fidgeted. What she truly wanted to know was if this man was mentally present. He was standing unnervingly close to the ledge. One misstep, and he was gone.

To her surprise, he chuckled. His voice was deep, silky. “I can’t even remember the last time anyone’s bothered to ask me that.”

That, alone, had Kagome feeling substantially more uncomfortable. What had he been looking at before she came? What had been running through his mind? What was this man contemplating just before she disturbed his silence and came trudging through the thickets? Her eyes, yet again, fell down to the edge of the cliff just behind his heels, then shifted back up to his face, his mouth.

“If you’re worried I’m going to jump, don’t be.” He said kindly, showing a little more personality with the way he smirked and looked away in amusement. “That’s quite the opposite of what I want. Really, it’d be counterproductive.”

“Oh,” Kagome breathed. While she wanted to feel relieved, there was something off-putting about the man. Severely off-putting. What was the object that drew her attention? She saw nothing on his person. No weapon was belted to his hip, nor his thigh, nor his shoulder. He held nothing in his hands, nor was there a bag strapped to his back. Maybe, it was something else she sensed. Or, maybe she should heed the warning her gut was receiving and leave it alone, back away, find Inuyasha, and rest on the very far side of the mountain. “Well, I apologize for bothering you.”

“You don’t have to leave.” He said before she could even move.

“I have to go find my boyfriend. I promised him I wouldn’t walk off too far.” She quickly stated.

“Then, why did you come out here?”

Kagome tensed. “I - Well, it looked like a nice spot to rest, and the scenery would be pretty. I wasn’t aware you were here, though. The last thing we’d want to do is disturb you. Besides -”

“You want to look at the scenery?” The man offered, his smile widening an inch as he turned to look over the cliff, at the mountains opposite, the green, the trees, the blue sky. “Come. Look. No need to be shy, Kagome. It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you, but I -“ Kagome froze mid-step, turning around to exit through the bushes when it hit her. As a chill ran down her spine, she pushed herself to look back at the man, her lips still parted, her brows furrowed in question.

He chuckled. “You’re not as easy to find as I’d thought you’d be.”

“How do you know my name?” She asked apprehensively.

“Isn’t it funny, maybe even a little ironic, that I would figure out who you were before you would me?” He carelessly ran his fingers through his hair. “Did you even bother to ask what I looked like? Given you’re a conjurer, I’m assuming your vendetta is with me. Of course, that could very well be my arrogance talking.”

No. It couldn’t be. This couldn’t be…

“Oh, there it is.” He laughed, chest and shoulders bouncing with the amusement. “The face of someone realizing just who they’re talking to. So, am I right? Was it me you were looking for?”

Kagome didn’t answer, an alarming sensation igniting in her core. Was this really Naraku? How did he know they were looking for him? Was it because she and Inuyasha had killed Moryomaru and it had gotten back to him? Or, had she been betrayed?

“You look to be in a state of shock. Disbelief? Kagome, it’s really me. Baby, honey, sweetums, pookie, I’m the man you’ve been searching for. In the flesh. Why don’t you seem happier?” He taunted jeeringly.

“Naraku?” She asked. She couldn’t help her skepticism. If she was in the presence of Naraku, why hadn’t she felt his demonic energy? Why hadn’t Inuyasha? It wasn’t a being she was sensing, but an object, and Inuyasha should have picked up his scent given she wasn’t all that far from where they’d parted. But, he hadn’t smelled anyone. Otherwise, the hanyou either would have warned her to be careful, or just purely wouldn’t have left her alone. This couldn’t be right. Naraku was supposed to be insanely powerful, so why wasn’t she feeling him. Was he able to conceal his powers? Was that possible?

“Good job, boo boo.” He said mockingly, smiling.

“But, how?”

“You killed Moryomaru. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” Naraku shrugged his brows. “If you wanted my attention so bad, there were other ways to go about it. So, what’s up? What did you want to talk about?”

Kagome didn’t know how to read him. She was so thrown off, her perception of this reality was distorted. She needed to get a grip fast, she needed to draw her weapon, but she felt so solid, so confused, so afraid by not only his presence but his carefree demeanor.

“Come on, spit it out.” He wagged his hand in a rushing gesture. “God, for someone with a target on me, you sure seem scared. You sure you can do this?”

“Stop.” She finally spoke. “What are you doing? How are you talking so lightly right now?”

“What do you -“

“You know what I mean!” Kagome intentionally shouted, hoping to catch Inuyasha’s sensitive hearing. “You’re a mass murderer! You’re evil! You’ve been committing genocide, and you want to stand there spewing jokes at me as if nothing’s happened!”

“Yes, yes, yes, and yes.” Naraku nodded, agreeing to everything she’d just listed. “But, see the thing about being evil is, you don’t really care. I know that’s a difficult concept to grasp, what with the whole conscience and all.” He sneered with a light roll of his eyes.

“And, what for? What’s the purpose of all of this? World domination or something?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” He curled his upper lip in slight disdain. “Sounds like a lot of responsibility. I would probably have to say power. And, recognition. Like, imagine another region saying, ‘Hey, you’ve heard of Naraku, right? Yeah, I wouldn’t want to fuck with him either.’ To see everyone fear me, to be unbeatable, to know that if I did someday want world domination, I could attain it with the flick of my wrist. Yeah, that’s probably what I’m shooting for.”

“Oh, screw you. You said that all as if you didn’t already know. As if you started all of this because you could.”

“That’s the thing, Kagome. I did. I had the power, so why shouldn’t I be the one to rise to the top? In doing that, I’d have to dispose of the waste, silence the challengers, make a few demonstrations to get the word out, so on and so forth. See, you conjurers are weird folk.” He pointed. “Acting like you’re better than anyone else. It doesn’t make sense to me. What’s that about?”

“We don’t kill for fun.” Kagome replied, a deep scowl forming on her face.

“Oh, no, see that’s not what I’m getting at. Sure, you gotta kill to survive sometimes, self defense, I get that. But, like, you guys act like you’re the peace keepers of the world just because you have the power to purify demonic entities. If you think about it, it’s kind of like you guys are acting like you’re the superior species. It’s the same shit.”

“It’s not the same.” She fired in defense.

“It kind of is.” He chuckled.

“You’re just trying to get me to react.” Kagome said, sighing out a deep breath to regain her bearings. “You really can’t put us on the same level as you. The only thing I heard you admit was that we’re competition. Our existence is a threat to yours.”

“Your existence,” He began, his tone taking a slightly darker note. “Is unnatural.”

She didn’t say anything, utilizing the silence to allow her bow to slide down her arm and into her hand. It would have been impossible not to notice, she was sure, but Naraku mentioned nothing about it, not even bothering to glance down at it in her grip.

“Humans aren’t purposed for supernatural abilities. You guys are the bottom feeders. In the game of the wild, you’re the boars intended for demons to hunt and cook over fires. And, yet here some of you are, popping out of the womb with spiritual powers as if you’re archangels placed on Earth to fight, good versus evil. Allow me to set you straight, Kagome, there is no competition between you and I. Whomever told you that was spitting a pathetic attempt at a lie that you idiotically fell for. If no one told you that and you truly feel I think highly of your kind, you’re delusional.”

“Then, what’s your reason for killing us all?”

“Simply because you’re no archangel. I am as close to a god as you’ll ever get, but you’re meant to join the fallen. So burn, Kagome. Burn.”

“You say it, but you don’t look like you mean that.”

“And, you want to pretend you know me well enough to make that determination? You didn’t even know what I looked like just minutes ago.”

“You’re putting up a front. I know how to read emotions, and you’ve got plenty. What you’re trying to do is conceal them all behind a wall of big talk. Yes, you think my kind is unnatural, but you honestly do think highly of us. I can say that with confidence, because if I recall correctly, you asked a certain conjurer to join your fight toward the very beginning. You thought combining your power with theirs would make you significantly stronger. If you really considered us bottom feeders, you’d have never contemplated such a suggestion. You’ve experienced years of struggle fighting against that conjurer, and have since deemed us all a threat. You’re afraid of us.”

Naraku laughed malevolently, almost appearing taken aback by her insinuation. “Fear. That’s bold to suggest since you’re currently too nervous to even pull an arrow from your quiver.”

“I am afraid.” Kagome admitted without apprehension. “My pride’s not the thing up for question right now.”

His smile was one of incredulity as his red eyes gave a small shift to the side. “Are you sure you want to do this? Fight me?”

“Like I have a choice.” She said through clenched teeth.

Naraku gestured to the ledge. “You do. Jump.”

“Never. I was sure I wanted to do this the moment I recognized the war you were waging. Now that you’ve killed Kikyo, there’s no way I’ll ever back down. You’re cruel, and -”

“Hey, woah, hey, hold on a second there, lady.” The demon braced his hands before him to silence her, pursing his lips for a brief second. “Look, I’m gonna be real with you, you don’t want to mention her. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that you can’t detect my presence. Where’s you’re half breed boy toy? Who knows, because he has no idea I’m here, right? It’s because I’m not. I’m not real. Naraku, he’s kind of - he’s having an -“ He delayed for a second, bobbing his head as he pondered the proper wording for the predicament. “- an episode at the moment. I’m a puppet. A puppet without any strings, if you will, created to complete this task and then - poof - I’m gone. There’s sort of a tether between my mind and his, and god forbid he’s actually paying attention right now. For your sake, you’d better hope he’s still underground. I mean, I’m not trying to play any sort of good guy - it’s nothing like that. You’re still gonna die today, I’m just trying to show a little mercy. Naraku hears her name, he’ll show up because he’ll be able to locate me real fucking fast, and in the mental state he’s currently in, he’ll literally rip you to pieces. Come on now, that’s no way for a girl with a pretty face to go.”

Kagome was grimacing, a deep frown of disgust pulling at her lips. “He kills her and then has the audacity to cry about it!?”

“Drop the subject.” He warned.

“So, you came to kill me in his stead? Just like he had another underling kill her? And, you want to tell me he isn’t afraid!?”

“He doesn’t like to waste his time squishing bugs.”

“Pathetic.” Kagome said, her voice low, demeaning. “How can anyone be expected to take him seriously as a powerful anything if he can’t even do his own bidding? Naraku is a joke. I’ll bet he’s broken inside. I’ll bet he’s fragile.”

“Stop while you’re still ahead.” The puppet had taken on a serious expression, dark lashes fluttering as he blinked his eyes.

“And, I’m supposed to be intimidated by you? You’re not even him.”

“Oh, no, I’m Naraku.” He corrected. “I’m just not him. Count your blessings. I look exactly like the guy, I can do everything he can do aside from multiply, and you really should learn to watch your mouth.” The puppet began to sprout additional limbs from his back, slithering, green tentacles appearing first, soon joined by long, thin legs looking to belong to a spider, planting themselves on the floor to elevate his body from the earth.

Spider-legged-tentacled creep. Koga had said it, but at the time, Kagome hadn’t known how to comprehend the snide remark at Naraku’s appearance. It was shocking, terrifying, but she knew she didn’t have time to stand there and gawk, to take him in, to actually acknowledge her fear.

As swiftly as she could, Kagome drew an arrow from her quiver, about to aim at the monster before she sensed a powerful energy budding from behind.

“Kagome, down!” Inuyasha ordered, and without a moment’s hesitation, knowing exactly what she was feeling, Kagome dropped her body to the hard surface of the rocky cliff. Air was pushed from her diaphragm from how heavy and quickly she’d dodged, but she remained low, feeling that swarm of demonic power blow directly over her, kick against the surface of the ground, and hit Naraku’s puppet.

With a hasty maneuver, Kagome rolled onto her back, lining the knock of her arrow up with the string of her bow to aim at the demon. It was an odd position, one she wasn’t used to, but she powered through it, pulling back her weapon and releasing to hit just as Inuyasha’s wind scar died away. It seemed as though a barrier had protected Naraku from Inuyasha’s attack, and she’d just caught the way the storm of wind rolled right over him, but her arrowhead stuck in the surface of the invisible barricade, penetrating just passed the tip.

She’d noticed the flinch of his brow, how it pinched inward an inch in observation before relaxing. Was he not expecting such quick reflexes from her? Or, was he not expecting her to make a dent at all?

“So, the half breed finally joins. How long were you listening from the sidelines?” Naraku’s puppet inquired, pretending his expression hadn’t accidentally betrayed him.

Inuyasha didn’t answer. His amber eyes were glowing with anger, his skin was blisteringly hot, and his lips twitched as his glower only managed to deepen. This bastard thought he’d catch Kagome while she was vulnerable and alone? This cheap, knock off, son of a bitch really thought he could kill her so easily? The hanyou was furious.

He’d picked up on Kagome’s voice the moment she’d started talking, and he was sure there was no one on the mountain with them. They were alone, and unless she was talking to a ghost, conversations shouldn’t have been had. Instantly, a bad feeling began to curdle in his stomach, so he headed back. He’d rather be safe than sorry. He’d decided to stay off to the side, listening, peeking through the cracks in the trees to get a glimpse at the man she was speaking to. It was easy to tell something was incredibly wrong. Inuyasha couldn’t smell him. He smelled wood, and just a small piece at that. It was very lightly - very lightly - tainted with Naraku’s scent, though. Something that smelled so far off, it was no wonder he didn’t catch it from down the trail. Then, he admitted to being Naraku, but he knew that couldn’t be the entire truth. He didn’t sense a person. He knew this was an illusion of some sort, but the minute Kagome’s life was so readily threatened was the minute Inuyasha’s anger rapidly bubbled. He was not only underestimating her so disrespectfully, but claiming he was going to put his hands on her. He’d told her to jump off the cliff. He’d claimed to offer her mercy. Inuyasha was going to personally see to this thing’s demise.

This was simply a new message that could be sent the real Naraku’s way. They killed Moryomaru. Now, they would be sending his puppet back in pieces. He was next.

“Tell me you’re okay.” Inuyasha said lowly, stepping through the thickets he’d torn apart with his attack. He didn’t bother taking his eyes off of the underling as he supported his sword in one hand, holding his free one out to help Kagome up.

“I’m fine.” She replied, pulling a new arrow from her quiver.

“Don’t want to bother with small talk? Fine.” Naraku smiled, his tentacles somehow growing. A thick one hastily flew upward to slam down between Inuyasha and Kagome, the two of them dodging but ending up separated.

“Inuyasha, aim at the arrow in his barrier!” Kagome instructed.

“Got it!” The hanyou shouted, dodging another mad tentacle before swinging his sword in another wind scar. Naraku laughed, watching the attack yet again slide over his blockade, missing the arrow entirely.

“What the hell was that!?” He guffawed, his laugh almost choked on as he sputtered to a halt, feeling the disruption of a sharp tear in his wall poking his arm. Another arrow had gotten ninety-percent through, stopping just at the feathers and piercing the surface layer of his flesh through his long-sleeved shirt.

“A distraction.” Kagome stated, pulling another arrow.

The puppet smiled again, but it was daring. Challenging. Kagome could quickly tell he was becoming irate, the way his jaw flexed conveying a lethal threat. She sensed the danger about to come her way, but she fell for his ploy. Naraku sent an appendage shooting at her right, but when she went to swerve left, she was struck by a tendril she hadn’t thought to expect. It sent her flying back onto the ground, a cough sputtering from her mouth from the force, but the puppet failed to pin her. He had lost his grip in the moment, and Kagome rolled away. Still, it would have been impossible of her to get to her feet in time, and again, his tentacle dropped on her, trying to wrap around her waist.

His grip was feeble, sliding away altogether as Inuyasha provided a destructive attack right against the barrier. Kagome looked across the way to see his Tessaiga glowing red, the skin of his face reflecting the bright color, worsening the shade of the fury he radiated. His blade sliced through the barricade, decimating it with the blow, and Naraku’s puppet stood there, stunned.

“Fancy trick you got there.” He growled. “A sword that can break through just about anything, huh?”

“Just about.” Inuyasha said in return, his tone gruff.

Naraku didn’t bother to construct another barrier. If they really wanted to think it would be that simple to take him down, he’d be glad to show them the contrary. To his right, Inuyasha stood with his sword at the ready, the red aura dwindling away to reveal its original appearance. To his left, Kagome stood with an arrow aimed directly at him. She’d shrugged off her backpack in the slim moment his attention was off of her, most likely for better movement control, but the puppet couldn’t help but cock a grin.

He moved swiftly, throwing tendrils of his body outward to distract his opponents. He accepted the hits, laughing tauntingly as he raised his hand and extended it in the direction of the half breed. His demonic powers soared outward, clutching the unsuspecting man in a telekinetic and vise grip, throwing Inuyasha to the ground with a loud thud.

Kagome was trapped, caged, and she didn’t know which appendage to aim at first. It was like they were trying to grab her, closing in to make it harder for her to fight back. It was causing her to panic, to second guess her actions, to back step, and his villainous laughter helped none. She’d heard the loud gasp of Inuyasha colliding with the rocky floor, her panic growing when she called out to him and didn’t receive a response.

Spotting an opening, Kagome aimed between the tentacles, straight at Naraku’s body. One of the slithering things was beginning to snake around her, but despite her trepidation and how badly she wanted to jump away, she stayed perfectly still, waiting for a smidgen of a clearer shot. On an exhale, Kagome released her arrow, her spiritual power demolishing a portion of Naraku’s ribcage, his arm, the tentacles around her dying off, and she quickly jumped out of those that hadn’t yet eroded, shaking them off and scampering toward Inuyasha only to halt halfway.

The hanyou was sitting on his knees, pushing himself back to a standing when his attention flew from Kagome to the monster’s incarnation. Kagome had shot him, had used her powers and blown off a part of his side, but at an alarming rate, Naraku was regenerating.

“I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t impressive.” The puppet spoke, and he almost seemed humored. “I’ll admit, you’re putting up more of a fight than I’d expected of a little girl and a mutt. Bet you didn’t see this coming, though. I’m not real, remember? Your conjurer strength can’t just deteriorate my arm and think it’ll hurt, I’ll scream a little, fall to my knees, and then you’ll be good to serve the finishing attack. It’s gonna take a little more than that, baby.”

“Don’t call me baby!” Kagome demanded, quickly pulling an arrow and shooting it at his body. It nailed the same arm, bringing an annoyed groan from his throat as his skin crumbled, but so rapidly did it heal.

“That make you feel powerful?” He mocked. “Get your point across? ‘Don’t call me baby!’” Naraku echoed in a high-pitched voice. “Stupid ass bitch. You’re not fucking listening, are you?”

Before her very eyes, the puppet’s body seemed to be transforming. More tentacles, vines, slithering demon tails grew from his flesh, entangling around his lower body and plunging into the earth. He was surrounded by a mountain of crawling parts that threatened them and protected his core. Roots began sprouting all around them, loosening the ground that supported the cliff, causing their footing to quake as they stumbled and dodged what grew.

“Kagome, come here!” Inuyasha called, wanting her next to him. He couldn’t protect her this way, he couldn’t adhere to her safety when they were divided, and he couldn’t predict what sort of move this monster was going to make next. In his peripheral vision, he could see the conjurer trying to follow his command, but the puppet was teasing her with his roots, pushing her back. When she finally got over them, Naraku slammed a tendril down in between to keep the two lovers separated.

Ferociously, Inuyasha raised his sword to attack, slashing it down in a formidable wind scar that hit the creature dead on, damaging its faux body. It was insane, the speed at which it regenerated, but the hanyou noticed a small part of his abdomen piecing together just a little slower. That must have been his weak point. That must have been why the demonic parts were protecting his stomach.

“Alright, you’re getting a little annoying.” Naraku commented, swiftly snaking multiple vines around him.

Inuyasha knew it was a distraction, the one that stabbed through his left arm, so he growled and clenched his jaw, but that was the only reaction he allowed himself to give, never taking his eyes off of the damned puppet. Kagome shot another arrow, piercing Naraku’s chest, and as quickly as he could to add his own power to the mix, to end this, Inuyasha swung his sword. His attack rumbled dangerously, shooting over the puppet’s body, but his core was protected in the nick of time.

He hadn’t noticed the tendril around his ankle. He hadn’t noticed the knot it had created. And, it was too late to try and cut himself free before the tentacle yanked his foot back and sent his body crashing forward to the ground. Inuyasha had lost his grip on his sword then, the metal clanking against the rock as he was lifted upward by another root that circled around his waist. He was trying to fight, to free himself, but the root was difficult to slice through with his nails. The ground came flying at his face before he could process as he was wasn’t just dropped, but thrown down heavily, the world going silent and black.

“Inuyasha!” Kagome cried, noticing how he hadn’t attempted to get up or reassure her. The hanyou laid still on the ground, a hand beside his face that neither twitched nor reached for his sword.

It was difficult to focus on what was happening with all the movement around her. So desperately did she want to sprint to her hanyou, but at the moment, she absolutely couldn’t. The second she let her guard down would be the second Naraku would win. It all happened too quickly, though. She’d decided to aim at his body, trying not to be distracted by the wriggling roots and appendages, but just before she could release her shot, something large grabbed around her waist, yanking her back so she’d lose her handling on her weapons, and then thrusting her forward and off of her feet. Kagome was ensnared, the tentacle progressively growing tighter as it wrung around her, pulling her closer to the puppet’s side.

Her groan was pleading, and she pushed fruitlessly at the green flesh around her stomach with her empty hands. It hurt. The closer she got to his burning, red eyes and sadistic smile, the more terrified and panicked Kagome grew.

“So, what now, conjurer?” Naraku asked, hovering her near him. He liked the tiny whimpers that escaped her throat. He liked the way her brown eyes were glimmering with urgency. “Come on, I’m within reach. Now’s your chance. Kill me. Save yourself and your precious mutt.”

She was trying. Kagome was damn near outwardly begging for her powers to work with her. Just once - just fucking once - come through her hands, her skin, anything. Follow the wave through the surface of her flesh. But, nothing was coming. The puppet squeezed her waist tighter and Kagome cried out, but still she tried to utilize that point in her body. She could feel something there. She could feel her powers bubbling where she was being strained, and she pushed, and pushed.

Let it out! Let it out, little bird!

“What a shame.” Naraku lamented. “Who’s pathetic?”

Kagome didn’t have time for this. She wouldn’t, couldn’t, let him win. Reaching behind her, she grabbed an arrow, swiveling the head forward in her fingers and jabbing it into Naraku’s neck.

The demon smiled. The girl was too flustered to apply enough force into her attack. Her powers ran deep, but just an inch further and she would have actually struck his “heart,” protected within his abdomen. It was too bad she’d fallen short. He waited as his body regenerated, plucking the arrowhead from his throat with a disturbed grunt.

“I don’t bleed.” He said, jerking her forward to hover just a couple of inches from his face. His tone died down to a gruff whisper, red eyes staring directly into her stricken irises. “But, you do. Don’t you? How should I do it? Should I make you cry first? Or, would you prefer something quick? Either works for me.”

“You won’t win this.” Kagome whispered, trembling. She was petrified, her heart was pounding, and a thick lump formed in her throat as she felt like the worst was about to happen. It was weird, the way fear would sit in your chest. It made you feel light but jittery, like you should scream to release some of that sensation but you physically couldn’t.

“Famous last words.” Naraku said, stroking the back of his finger over Kagome’s cheek. “How could you possibly take on the real thing if you couldn’t even defeat a puppet, though?”

No. He wasn’t right. They were going to win this.

Weren’t they?

Naraku was moving her over the edge of the cliff, and she fidgeted, gasped, shuddered.

Kagome wasn’t done fighting. She hadn’t seen this through yet. This was just a threat, and she was going to pull out of it. But, why did she get the leadened feeling that she wasn’t?

Why did Kagome suddenly feel so afraid that she couldn’t even breathe anymore?

She heard a sigh, a groan, and Kagome’s attention shifted to Inuyasha as he was coming to, blinking his golden eyes open as he pushed himself up onto his forearms.

Inuyasha was trying to reattain his bearings. His head was throbbing, and blood had gotten into his eye as he opened it, burning. He was still being restrained, his lower body pinned to the ground from the hips down. The battle wasn’t over. How long was he out? Why didn’t he hear Kagome? Where was Kagome?

He blinked some more, stabilizing his lungs as he pushed past the bleary state he was in. At the ledge, held over in a twisted grasp of tendrils, he found her. She wasn’t entirely clear, but he could make out the setting.

And, his stomach dropped.

His vision settled then, and Inuyasha stared on as Naraku grinned, holding Kagome’s life over the edge of the cliff.

| previous chapter | <- -> | next chapter |

[decembersylph-a-t-u]

I mean … Why not?

Vigilante AU - The Siblings Blonde

After a particularly bad day of being abused by his father, Keigo decides to run away. He lives on the streets before being found by Jin.

Jin’s family is lower middle-class, living in the shadier part of town. (Twice is canonically 31 when he first debuts, and Hawks is 22-23, so an 8-9 year difference.)

Jin finds Keigo wandering the streets, an almost feral child, and decides to try talking to him. That doesn’t work out so well as Keigo is mistrustful of people after just escaping an abusive environment, but he is more trustful of kids than he is of adults due to his mind seeing people way older than him as dangerous and not to be trusted. Jin wins his trust by giving him food and meager medical attention through rubbing alcohol and band-aids. Keigo learns about Jin having DID and he shares about how his parents were abusive, his father having been a thief and killed someone. The two bond over their unfair hand in life, eventually becoming as close as brothers.

Tragedy strikes when Jin’s parents die in a house (apartment building) fire due to a pro *cough Endeawhore cough* not being aware of his surroundings while chasing a criminal while patrolling. Jin and Keigo leave the area, deciding it’s not safe to be in the area.

To survive, they pickpocket cash and items off of people, as well as stealing from shipping warehouses. The two kids eventually gain a reputation as hard to catch thieves because one can detach his feathers and use them as distractions and the other can make clones of himself. Heroes and police try catching them to no luck, as even when trying to ambush them, the two are able to escape thanks to their Quirks aiding them in escaping. They gain the names Twice and Hawks from other criminals that have a soft spot for the two and get amused that two kids not yet in their teens are making the pros and police run around like headless chickens trying to catch them.

Some years later, Keigo, at age 15, finds a young kid on the streets. 8 year old Kaminari Denki was abandoned on the streets. His Quirk had been hurting him, affecting his grades, but his teachers didn’t see it. His parents called him a failure, telling him to shape up and not use his Quirk as an excuse for “laziness”. Denki had snapped when his classmates began pushing him around, trying to get him to go into his “dumb mode” for their own amusement, and he gave the ones closest to him electrical burns. His teachers had told his parents he attacked his classmates unprovoked, causing Denki’s parents to become violent with him. He ran away, traumatized by what happened.

Keigo was reminded of his childhood when hearing from Denki why he was out on the streets, and learned just how Denki’s Quirk affected him. He decided to take Denki back to his and Jin’s hiding place, where Jin wasn’t so keen on keeping Denki because he and Keigo were barely able to get by themselves, but eventually caved at the powerful pair of pleading faces.

Jin and Keigo trained Denki in using his Quirk in hand-to-hand, and Denki learned how to cause power outages purposefully without hurting himself. (Some police and even pros actually wept when they learned there was now another “blonde brat” that they had to go after, this one able to cause power outages that could spread to several blocks!)

The three accidentally busted a trafficking ring when they were stealing from a storage warehouse, which had young children captive. The three had only meant to steal some food from there, or valuables they could sell, but upon seeing young kids that were hurt and looking scared, they decided to give the adults a little nasty surprise. The pros and police that arrived on scene learned from the kids that “three blonde kids” had saved them. They immediately knew who saved the kids and news started spreading that there were three young vigilantes on the scene.

Seeing the news, the three have a debate on whether to keep on saving people, before ultimately agreeing it’s a good idea. Thus giving pros and police alike more headaches.

Some years later, when Himiko lashes out at her middle school graduation and runs away, she ends up meeting “the Brothers Blonde” as they’re being called by the media. Himiko had been running on instinct when she attacked them, but got knocked out. She later woke to find blood in a glass ready for her, Jin having been the donor. Himiko learns that the boys had realized she needed blood, and she learns they got mistreated by society one way or another. She quickly becomes part of their team, and so the “Brothers Blonde” become the “Siblings Blonde”, as the media catches wind of her.

Some parts of this AU are:

People wonder if they’re actually related, as the four are all blonde (even if different shades of).

The four like to play pranks when stopping the baddies. (Once, the pros and police called in to collect some criminals found them strung suspended from a telephone pole, covered in yellow paint with their faces covered in funny additions drawn on with permanent markers.)

Twice is the embodiment of the quote from the live action Cat In The Hat: ‘A little voice inside of me is saying, "This is a bad idea." But I can barely hear that little voice, because an even louder little voice is screaming, "Let the twelve-year-old drive."’ He is both the encourager of chaos in his siblings and the one to reel them back when they’re likely to get in over their heads. When he isn’t trying to coral his siblings, he likes to read whatever books he can get his hands on.

Hawks was pretty much an emotionless, quiet child due to his parents’ abuse, so when he became older, he started venting through graffiti and nailing people with paint-filled water balloons. He’s where the Siblings usually get their paint to dump on people, because Keigo has a stock.

Denki learned how to hack from some criminals with computer skills. He has a habit of going into chat room forums and trolling people that deserve it, as well as crashing the computers of hackers in video games that go against the rules to play unfairly.

Himiko is into insects. When she learned about mosquitoes and other bloodsucking insects, she grew a hobby of catching, collecting, and releasing them on her enemies. Her brothers know to stay well out of her room, because she can and will unleash her insects on them if they enter without her permission and it’s not an emergency.

Denki often complains over being the baby of the family, but doesn’t actually mind it since he likes the attention of his siblings.

Keigo will take to ferrying his siblings around when bored, but doesn’t do this as much as he used to with Jin since Jin grew heavier than Keigo as they grew older.

Himiko will often pull her brothers into a night of letting her paint their nails, with Jin sporting alternating black, gray, and sparkly white, Keigo with sky blue, and Denki with sparkly yellow.

Jin will often use his Quirk to make copies of objects, and then have his siblings tell which is real and which is fake, with Denki having the better success rate as he can tell the difference in electromagnetic fields the objects give off.

They all hate Endeavor, have a great respect for Present Mic, Eraserhead, and Ms. Joke, among a few other Pros, and don’t like All Might.

[beewolfwrites]

And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Fourteen: Half-Sick of Shadows

Hello again! This is instalment 14 of my Chishiya x OC/reader fic. You’ll also find it over here on AO3 too. 

Thanks for all the support so far, and all of the people who have gone through every chapter and liked them. It means so much to see that you’re enjoying this <3 

childlikeempress/mercipourleslivres - I have a feeling you’ll get this chapter title :D 

--------------------------------

By the time we made it back to the Beach, Kuina and I were too tired and overwhelmed to bother with the everlasting party. The teenage boy clung to my side, thanking me repeatedly for saving his life. I tried to tell him that there was no need, that anyone would have done the same, but I had to force the words out. It wasn’t true.

In this world, you’re supposed to look out for yourself.

He promised me he’d repay the favour, but I just shook my head and smiled, telling him to survive instead.

I retreated into my room for the rest of the night, and immediately hopped into the shower. The water swirled, washing away the remains of the pinstripe tent, the red water, yellow eyes and leathery skin.

Don’t focus on it. Don’t think about it.

The stained red scrunchie bobbed on the surface of the water as it spun towards the drain.

My legs collapsed beneath me. Sinking to the to the bottom of the shower, I finally wept.

------------------------------------------

The next morning, I awoke with a splitting headache. My eyes were pink from the night before, and my hands stung, irritated from the metal pull of the wire and the weight of the teenage boy. It was tempting to stay in bed and dream away the blood and guts of the Borderlands. But there was something I needed to do.

‘Don’t you want to thank Chishiya?’

Back then, Kuina’s words had been a lifeline, cutting through the fear.

Sitting up in bed, I took the copy of Wuthering Heights out of the bedside drawer, flicking through the pages. It was all in Japanese, meaning it was illegible to me. But there was something else; one of the page corners was turned over. Flipping to it, I found that a line of the text had been underlined in pen.

Did Chishiya do this?

It seemed unlikely, although he could have done it with the intention that I would translate it. It was impossible to tell, since he was such a closed book. But seeing the words acted as a reminder that I still needed to find him anyway.

Kicking back the covers, I got up and dressed, and while I still felt half-dead after the game, I somehow felt more confident approaching Chishiya. When I finally left my room, it was nearly noon, and I had a pretty good idea as to where he would be.

The hotel was mostly quiet as I slipped through the halls, following the same path Kuina had led me just days before. Having memorised every turn, I eventually came to the doors that opened up to the roof. A cold gust of air sent goosebumps across my skin, and rubbing my arms, I spied the hunched figure sitting, one leg bent, near the edge. Just seeing him alive and well was a huge relief.

He didn’t turn or react as I sat beside him. ‘I didn’t see you yesterday. How did your game go?’

There was silence at first, before he spoke, half-teasing. ‘So you’re speaking to me again? I see.’ When he realised the words had no effect on me, he added, ‘Eight of Diamonds – it was nothing.’

For him, it was nothing. Personally, I would have struggled with an Eight of Diamonds. Knowing myself, I’d second-guess every move. Chishiya didn’t elaborate on the game, or even speak at all.

‘Aren’t you going to ask about my game?’

He was idly watching the pool-goers splashing around and having fun, but his expression was apathetic. ‘I already know. Kuina told me everything.’ He glanced briefly at my reddened hands ‘Apparently you saved a boy. It was a stupid move.’

To someone like you, it would be.

‘I disagree. He lived because of it.’

‘And if he dies in his next game, then it was a waste of time,’ Chishiya berated. ‘It’s pointless to risk your life for a stranger.’

I spun around to face him fully, crossing my legs beneath me. ‘Okay,’ I challenged him. ‘What about if it was you down there? You’d want someone to save you.’

The question was shut down immediately. ‘That’s different. I wouldn’t be stupid enough to end up in that situation.’

I pouted. He wasn’t technically wrong. It was hard to picture Chishiya scared and hanging upside down on a tightrope. If anything, he wouldn’t hesitate to cross it. But he did get nervous. That much was clear from the Two of Spades game, when I’d felt his heart thudding as his arms tightened, pulling me into the darkness.

And now, as my eyes traced over his deadened expression and the thin hair that stirred in the breeze like spider’s silk, I couldn’t stop the question from slipping out. ‘And what if it was Kuina?’ I paused, whispering, ‘or me?’

Now I had his attention, as his lips twisted in that cruel, cruel smile that used to make me shudder. ‘Do you really want me to answer that question?’

No.

The answer was already clear, and for some unknown reason, it hurt.

I don’t want you to say it out loud.

I swallowed, instantly regretting bringing the subject up. ‘You were wrong, by the way... about what you said before.’ This prompted him to lift his brows in mock surprise. ‘You did end up in a similar situation. Both in the Tag game… and in the Two of Spades. Your injury… how is it?’

During our argument, it hadn’t been the right time to ask, but better late than never. I unconsciously reached for him, as if trying to make sure he was okay. However, Chishiya’s hand darted out, catching my fingers in a tight squeeze.

‘Don’t.’ His tone was icy, and it was the first time I’d seen him grow so cold.  

It hurt, seeing him so reluctant to let me in. But to him it was a moment of weakness, a reminder that he had lost control of a situation, even if only for a second.

‘At least tell me you’re okay.’

‘I’ve already told you it’s nothing.’ He clasped my fingers harder. ‘It shouldn’t matter to you anyway.’

I pulled myself free, rubbing my fingertips where they’d turned white and red. ‘That’s not true. I care, and that makes it relevant to me.’

For just a second, I thought I heard him begin to call me an idiot. But then he stopped. ‘You care too much about things that have nothing to do with you. You should focus on what’s in front of you.’ It was fleeting, the way his eyes washed over the bruises on my ankle.

I see.

It felt nice, knowing that in his own abrasive way, he was telling me to watch out. ‘You know what’s strange? Niragi hasn’t bothered me again. I thought he’d have killed me by now.’

Chishiya sighed. ‘That’d be too easy, and not as much fun.’

So Niragi did have his eye on me, but he was biding his time before coming after me again. It was a wonder he seemed to think that by attacking me, he’d be getting to Chishiya. Their rivalry had nothing to do with me, and Chishiya had all but confirmed moments ago that he wouldn’t even risk his life to save me in a game. Coming after me was pointless.

But that’s not what Niragi thinks.

‘It’s only a matter of time before he tries something again. You should watch your back,’ Chishiya warned. Then his face stretched into that familiar, all-knowing smile. ‘But you didn’t come up here to talk to me about Niragi.’

He already knew. He must’ve been waiting for me to track him down.

Mixed feelings swirled within me; embarrassment that he’d so easily predicted my behaviour, annoyance over the fact that he’d been smugly waiting, and something else I couldn’t identify.

Warmth, perhaps?

No, that wasn’t the right word.

‘I’m sorry.’ The words came out in a whisper. Grimacing, I cleared my throat and spoke up. ‘I want to thank you for the books, but I also want to apologise. Everything you said back then was true.’ The words were hard to admit, even to myself. ‘I’ve been living in a hole all my life and I got too used to it. And now the world seems terrifying. But if I survive here and make it back, I know that nothing my dad does will be scarier than these games. I’ll try and make my own freedom from now on. So, thank you… but also, I’m sorry.’

I waited for a response, some kind of acknowledgement. Anything. Instead, there was a rustle of clothes as he stood and began walking to the door. My heart froze over, and I blinked at the empty space beside me.

Did I say something wrong?

‘Antiseptic ointment and gauze,’ I heard him say, before the roof door swung shut.

I was alone, with nothing but the breeze and the distant laughter from the patio below. Looking down at my reddened hands, I smiled, finally understanding.

-----------------------------------------

It had been three days since our conversation on the rooftop, and I had been following Chishiya’s advice, using supplies I’d borrowed from the medical room to treat the irritated skin of my hands. The bruising around my cheek, neck and ankle had faded to a fainter yellowish brown. Kuina kept telling me that we’d find a way of getting back at Niragi for what he did, although I knew she wouldn’t want to do anything drastic without Chishiya’s input; she was just as nervous around Niragi as I was.

I spent all my time pouring over the Japanese language textbook and trying to translate the opening sections of The Metamorphosis. Twice, I’d picked up Wuthering Heights and attempted to make sense of the underlined words. But it was hopeless. There were complex kanji I didn’t know how to pronounce, meaning they were impossible to search in the dictionary I had, and Google was no-go in the Borderlands.

Closing the book yet again, I rubbed my temples, trying to ease the headache brewing after hours spent squinting at different characters.

I should just ask Chishiya.

I hadn’t seen him much since the rooftop, as he was always busy with executive work. And even now, with the late afternoon sun beating through the windows, there was no guarantee he’d be free to talk. But it was worth a shot.

That’s it, I’m going to go ask him.

Pulling on my hoodie, I picked up the copy of Wuthering Heights and left my room. The hallways were pretty quiet around this time, as people were either downstairs enjoying the party while they could, or tucked away in their rooms getting some last-minute sleep before the long evening ahead.

Heading down the hall, I tried to remember where Chishiya’s room was. I had only been there once, after Kuina had given me directions, but at the time I’d been nervous and distracted by the argument that ensued. The hotel was like a maze. No, not a maze – a labyrinth. And his room was hidden somewhere behind one of these identical doors.

I’ll know when I see it.

Rounding a corner… I immediately froze. At the end of the hall, Niragi and his thugs were dragging a man by his bloodied scruff. When the man thrashed wildly in their grip, they stopped to kick him in the ribs and jaw, sending speckles of blood up the wallpaper.

Niragi was a sight. The nail marks down his cheek had scabbed over, and beneath his right eye was a faint purple bruise from where I’d kicked him in the face.

My limbs stiffened in place. I couldn’t move.

And even when his eyes lifted, widening with fury as they locked onto me, I couldn’t move.

He began striding towards me, jaw clenched and hands readying his rifle.

Run, run, run…

As if struck by electricity, I bolted back the way I came, shoving past the occasional person I ran into. Niragi’s footfalls were close behind me. He was following fast, and I could hear his growls.

‘You fucking bitch, get back here!’

The words sounded faint and close at the same time. Everything was close but far away, and my legs had turned to rubber. I spied a familiar looking door and threw myself into it, panting hard as it closed behind me. Outside, Niragi’s footfalls grew closer and closer… then further and further away.

He was gone. At least for now. My relief was cut short when it became clear where I was.

Sitting on the bed with open first-aid kit, gauze held delicately in one hand, Chishiya was completely shirtless. His side was swathed in old bandages, spotted with red. And he was staring at me.  

‘Get out.’

[kuroo-shitsurou]

Conditioner (Juban)

note: ngl i think i made them a bit ooc here but SDGJAGF pls i just cant they make me so happy

word count: 1.4k

"Yuzo-san was brutal as ever today," Taichi whined as he got out of the bath.

"Good. Somebody needs to remind this troupe to buck-up or else we'll get overshadowed by the others." Sakyo shifted his glasses, eyeing how tired the rest of troupe members seemed to be. His lead role in Ginji wasn't as difficult to play, given that he already had a yakuza background, but he knew how much the others struggled with their roles. Seriously, how the hell are the yakuza related to hotdogs and juicy weenies or whatever the hell Taichi blabbed about earlier?

"It wasn't that hard, really." Banri piped up from the couch.

"Easy for you to fuckin' say." Juza muttered under his breath.

"Try sayin' that to my face, will 'ya?"

"I said-"

"So! Anyone up for some meat skewers tonight? There was a great sale at the market earlier." Omi spoke up to break the tension between the two. It would be a headache dealing with them if they went full-on brawl mode.

"Ooh, that sounds good!" Taichi could already feel his stomach rumbling.

"In that case, I'd better hop in the shower real quick so I can get started on dinner." Omi moved his gaze to where Juza stood, "Come on, Juza."

Juza gave a small grunt of approval, still glaring daggers at Banri.

"Why must you two always act like such children?" Sakyo pinched the bridge of his nose.

"We ain't children. You're just old."

Taichi snickered at this comment from Banri until he saw the menacing aura that Sakyo emitted.

"The hell did you say to me?"

Taichi prayed for Banri's soul.

-

"What's that, Juza?" Omi eyed the pink bottle Juza was toying with in his hands.

"Muku got this for me earlier today. He said it was conditioner."

"How nice of him. I never really took you for a guy who uses conditioner. No offense."

"Nah, you're right. I normally don't, but it wouldn't hurt to try it once in a while. It'd be a shame if it went to waste anyway."

Omi chuckled as he rinsed the suds out of his hair, "Thoughtful as always."

Juza felt a faint blush form on his cheeks as he massaged the sweet-smelling conditioner through his locks.

"'S whatever."

-

Juza and Omi finally exited the bathroom to see Banri teaching Taichi how to properly solve a rubiks cube.

"So then you turn it here, then here, then twist this part up, and you got it." Banri's fingers were quick to solve the cube perfectly.

"Banny I asked you to teach me, not solve it for me!" Taichi wept crocodile tears.

"Ah, my bad."

"Omi! Juza! You're finally back! Can't wait to taste those meat skewers." The redhead happily greeted the two who were fresh from the bath.

"I'll get started right away. Come help me out for a bit, Taichi."

"Sir yes sir!" Taichi made a beeline for the kitchen with Omi happily humming behind him.

Banri and Juza felt an awkward pause in the room before Juza moved to sit with Banri on the couch. Not beside him though, he was at the opposite end from where the blond was sitting.

He didn't know why, but Banri shifted in his seat and fidgeted with the rubiks cube in his hands; Messing it up and then reassembling it again.

"'Grats on practice today," Banri was sure that there was still leftover water in his ears.

"What?"

"I said 'grats on practice, you deaf fuckface." Was that a blush on Juza's face? "Yuzo-san barely gave criticism on your part for the yakuza shtick. That doesn't mean you'll be top dog, though. I'm still gonna beat your ass."

Banri snickered, "As if. I'm gonna steal the show and have you eat my dust." He turned his body just enough for him to be facing his roommate, "Thanks, though. Whatever, I guess."

His nose picked up an unfamiliar scent; It was sweet and light, which was surprising, since Omi said he was going to be cooking something far from sweet tonight. His eyes wandered to Juza, who was drying his hair with a towel.

"What're you lookin' at?" Juza scowled.

"N-Nothing," Banri stuttered, and he mentally cursed himself for doing so.

"D-Did you use something?"

"Haa?"

"A new shampoo or something," Banri chose his words carefully to pretend like he didn't give a flying fuck about Juza (which was quite the opposite, actually, but Banri would rather die than admit it).

"Wh-? Yeah. Muku gave me a new conditioner." Juza quickly looked at the pink bottle again, "Bubblegum. Eh."

Banri felt his breath get caught in his throat. How the hell was he so cute and dumb at the same time?!

"I see."

Banri had this incredibly dumb idea. It was going to satisfy the burning desire building in the pit of his stomach, but it was also absolutely dumb. It was going to give him a sense of fulfillment, but it was also unbelievably dumb.

And you know what? Maybe Banri Settsu was dumber than he initially accounted for.

"You're doing it wrong." He spoke up nervously, to which Juza cocked his eyebrow at.

"The hell are you-"

Before Juza could even finish his sentence, Banri was already up and behind the sofa, with Juza sitting directly in front of him. He grabbed the towel from Juza's hand and started to twist his damp locks between the fabric.

"Settsu, what in the actual fuck are you doing?" Although Juza's voice was laced with venom and despise for the blond, he made no move to dissuade the other from stopping his actions.

"You're drying your hair wrong and it's annoying me." Banri's reply was quick and quiet. He focused on getting Juza's hair dry.

Banri's mind went blank. There was just one word running through his brain right now.

Soft.

Juza's hair was incredibly fucking soft.

This was the first time that Banri had a feel of Juza's hair right after he got out of the shower, and he hated the fact that it was so soft to the touch. You'd think that his hair would be all rough and dry and spiky with the amount of gel he uses. Maybe it was the conditioner? He silently thanked Muku for that.

The soft texture of his luscious purple locks mixed with the intoxicating scent of bubblegum made Banri's head spin. This was bad.

On the receiving end, Juza was confused and... embarrassed. When was the last time he had someone dry his hair for him? Maybe when he was back in grade school? And for his rival to be the one doing so? This was so weird... and yet, so comforting.

Though he wouldn't admit it, Juza liked how Banri's fingers massaged through his scalp. He liked it how Banri would ruffle his hair with the towel. He liked it how Banri gave his full and undivided attention to him, and him alone.

"There," The male's voice called to him, snapping him out of his daze.

"A-Ah, yeah. Th-Thanks, I guess." Juza coughed to hide the blush on his face.

"Do it right next time. It's annoying when you do it like a dumb kid." Truth be told, there was nothing wrong with how Juza was drying his hair. Banri just wanted to touch his hair. As if he'd ever say that aloud.

"...And what if I don't do it right next time?" Juza's quiet voice ripped the smirk off Banri's face for a split second. It was so fast that Juza's brain didn't even register it happening.

"Guess I'll have to show you how to do it until you get it right." For a brief moment, Juza thought that Banri was smiling at him. A soft, calming smile. Nah. This was Banri Settsu; Annoying, loudmouthed, disgusting, cute (?), calming (???) Banri Settsu. He wouldn't smile at him like that... Right?

"Dinner's almost ready!" Omi called from the kitched.

"Hey! Omi told me that we should call for the others!" Taichi came bounding towards the two, oblivious to the tense atmosphere between them.

"Yeah, I'll call the left wing." Juza stood from where he was seated, annoyed at how wobbly his knees felt.

"I'll go right."

"I'll go with you, Banny! Hey, why do your hands smell like bubblegum?"

"Shut up, Taichi!"

Juza snickered lightly to himself as he went to knock on the dorm rooms.

He needed to thank Muku for the conditioner.

[aurora-australis-tumbles]

Hi!! Hand-holding #24 or Touching #5, if you like?

Definitely, my dear, and I hope YOU like as well. 😂  Touching 5: feeling their pulse ---

It was always a risk, giving your heart to another person. Phryne had known this, of course, but she had done it anyway. She trusted Jack. Completely. Trusted him to keep it unbruised and uncaged, safe and cherished. Yes, it was a risk, but it was a calculated risk and Phryne had always had a good head for numbers.

What she’d failed to consider, really consider, were the physical dangers.

Because when you gave someone else your heart, there was always a chance you might have to watch it stop beating.

It was a lesson Phryne was learning the hard way now, as she held his wrist in her hand, frantically searching for a pulse.

Her fingers shook minutely as she placed them on his skin, clammy in a way that worried the part of her brain that remembered performing this task a dozen times a day under far less ideal circumstances, back when it had become second nature, muscle memory taking over before she’d consciously begun the movement.

This was not that.

This was... panic. Panic and fear and anger and yes the muscle memory was still there but the cool detachment was not.

And when she finally felt his pulse, weaker than she’d prefer but definitely there, she almost wept for the sheer relief of it.

Muscle memory told her to remove her fingers from his wrist now.

Phryne told muscle memory to go to hell.

Later, in the hospital, watching him sleep, waiting for him to wake up, she wondered why people did it. Why they willingly risked so much...

What reward could possibly be worth that?

He stirred and she sat up straighter. A nurse appeared and Phryne told her to fetch the doctor, he seemed to be waking up.

And then, he did.

He smiled at her, weak but sincere, and looked around the room trying to figure out where he was.

“Hospital,” she told him.

“Did we get him?” Jack asked.

“Yes. Two days ago. You scared the hell out of me, Jack.”

“I’m sorry.” Still sincere, still weak. “What happened?”

“What always happens? You got yourself hit over the head, but this time you… well you certainly took your sweet time waking up, Inspector. It was really very discourteous.”

“Yes, I know you prefer to be the cause of my headaches yourself.”

“I do, so please stop trying to make me jealous.”

“Is that why you won’t let go of my hand?”

“No.”

She was still feeling for a pulse, days later, reminding herself it was there.

Because, someday, it wouldn’t.

Someday — very soon or in the distant future — it wouldn’t. It would just… stop.

And what reward could possibly be worth that?

He squeezed her hand and she looked up at his face. He was giving her that ridiculous lopsided grin she adored, the one she knew was only for her, the one she could never not return, and something in Phryne just… clicked.

It was always a risk, giving your heart to another person. Phryne knew this, now more than ever. But she also knew she would keep doing it. Because the reward… the reward were all the heartbeats in-between. All the moments from now until someday. Every besotted smile and censuring look and handhold she got in whatever time they had together.

Phryne squeezed back.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“I was thinking… I was thinking I have a very good head for numbers.” She gave him a considering look. “And also of fitting yours for a helmet.”

Yes, the risk was definitely worth the reward... but that didn’t mean Phryne couldn’t adjust the odds a little.

---

Touches Ask Game

[tamagochiie]

happy new year to you

pairing: tsukishima x fem!reader 

genre: angst (?), fluff

warning: none

synopsis: Its New Year's Eve and you're all alone. Well, not really.

Tsukishima, the only friend you've managed to make since you've moved from the country side, comes to visit you after work without any particular reason. Whether it's to fill the space during after hours at your work or pester you with his sarcasm and cockiness; he always seems to come back.

a/n: I wanted a brain break from writing the bonus chapter for the Kenma series: Life As We Know It. The more I worked on it, the more I got a headache, so I really dunno when I’ll be able to post it, so please be patient with me :( 

The clock strikes upon the final hour before the new year, and the glimmering streets of Shinjuku echo with hearty laughter and drunken cheers of joy.

Standing on the other side of the glass window, you watch as strangers flow past you in groups and in pairs, all seeming to have the time of their lives while you go back to busying yourself by mopping the creaky wooden floors of the barren, dim lit bar you work in.

Nostalgia, rather than jealousy, pours over your thoughts as you imagine what your friends back home could be doing. They’re probably preparing bento boxes together at Yachi’s house to see the hatsuhinode later; and the thought causes your lips as much as your heart to sink.

As much as you wanted to go home for the holidays, you’re the breadwinner and if making money meant working through the holidays, then you would do exactly that.

Ugh, I wanna be home.

It had been another long night spent with you deciphering a string of intricately slurred orders from one borderline drunkard to the next. Truth be told, if it wasn’t a part of your job, you wouldn’t converse with any of the customers or dive head first into a sea of personalities, but out of all eyes you’ve met and smiles you exchanged, the one that mattered to you most had yet to make his appearance.

That is, until you hear a knocking against the glass.

You flinch back to your senses and your attention is no longer settled on the tiny rain droplets sliding down the window, but to Tsukki. He lazily waves at you with a sly smirk painting across his lips. You smile widely, teeth showing and everything; you quickly motion him to come inside.

Any worry of him being later than he already is that weighed heavily on your shoulders suddenly becomes light as a feather and floats away as the wind from outside breezes in.

“You seem extra happy to see me tonight,” Tsukki cooes your name like he has many times before, and you’re usually annoyed. The only difference is, you don’t mind it this time. You let it slide because today has been a bit unkind.

His wavy blonde wisps barely graze against the frame of the door. With one hand buried deep in his jacket pocket and the other carrying a grocery bag,  he holds his head up high like his pride. His sunglasses perched proudly on the tip of his nose.

“Sorry I’m a bit late,” He sighs, ambling behind you as you make your way around to the other side of the island. He takes a seat on the stool across from you, shifting in place before setting the grocery bag down next to him. He leans all of his weight onto his elbows, placing his chin in the dip of his palm.

Through the green hue of his sunglasses, Tsukki watches you pull two tall glasses from below the bar and set it between the both of you. You swipe two cans of diet coke from the ice chest  and begin to prepare his usual: chilled diet coke with no ice.

It had something to do about his teeth being sensitive.

You pass him his glass and meet his gaze; a smug smile paints across your lips. “What’s with the shades, Tsukki? Were the stars too bright for you?”

He chuckles at your poor attempt of a joke and flips you off before taking a sip. Setting the glass down and keeping his collected disposition, Tsukki slides the shades off his nose.

Your lips sink to a frown and you suck the air between your teeth. A deep, trying sigh escapes you when you see his face sprinkled with fresh cuts and bruises.

“ God, you’re like a teenage boy.” You shake your head, pushing yourself off the counter.

“Hey, just remember that feeling you had when you saw me earlier,” His voice was gruff and croaky like he’d been punched in the throat, and by the looks of his face, it’s possible. “I saw that smile. You missed me.”

“You’re pretty cocky for someone who looks like they’ve been bitched slapped senseless.” You retort, rolling your eyes.

“You should see the other guys,” Tsukki teases, smirking. And though his tone is a bit impish, the fact he fought with more than one guy made you double take.

You relieve yourself with another deep sigh, leaving him behind as you go to the back to grab a first aid kit, a small bucket of ice, and cloth.

You’d only known him for a little while and you weren’t exactly close, but he was the only friend you had managed to make since you moved from the countryside for uni. He wasn’t the best company to have, but he wasn’t the worst either.

He was... good enough.

Since the night you met, it became a common occurrence to have him show up during the peak hours of the night all battered and bruised while you were closing up shop.

The midnight sky wept and the winds were not merciful, so you rushed to haul the chairs into safety before it could be whisked away. And just as you were about to carry in the bar's sign, you found him slumped into a corner, head tilted back.

His face looked like a badly bruised pear. His long, lanky legs stuck out to the narrow pathway, his feet soaked beneath the rain.

You were more curious than you were afraid, so against your better judgement, you inched closer to him, knelt beside him and checked for a pulse. As faint as it was, it was enough for you to gather the little strength you had left to prop him onto his feet and stagger back inside.

Breathless, you sat him in a booth, lulling his head onto the leather backrest of the couch before running to the back for the first aid kit and freezing diet coke because everything like that night, it was unlucky and there wasn’t any more ice.

It took him a while, but he eventually woke up; flustered and drenched in a mixture of rain water and his own sweat. Pupils dilated and full of adrenaline.

You struggled to get him to sit still, swatting away your attempts to help him until all the fight slowly left his body like a light bulb losing its energy. But when he was all able and well, he’d get up and walk out without even a thank you.

The days that passed would smear together like a poorly done Jackson Pollock painting that you would forget the whole thing had even happened.

That is until a familiar tall frame would stride into the bar one night, eyes searching the room till he found you.

Tsukki’s visits were sporadic at first, and it was always during after hours. He wasn’t as kind as he is now. Is he kind? He was like the dead of winter: painfully cold and bitter. At first, he wouldn’t bother a breath to say a single thought or even murmur a word.

Though, he’d trudge in looking tired, stumbling over his feet looking like he came fresh from a fight, or if he was lucky, just tired. He’d take a seat in front of you sometimes burying his head into his arms and take a nap or if you were lucky, he’d ask for a diet coke.

But nevertheless, his eyes are always the same: as light as the sun could gleam, but no sign of life. As far as you were concerned, he was merely a pretty shell.

You never understood why he kept coming back, especially since he pretty much gave you the cold shoulder for the first two months he cycled into his nightly visitations; but you never really bothered to ask.

You even stopped pestering him with any sort of questions about anything he did with his life, knowing full well he’d tell you to mind your own business.

Nevertheless, it doesn’t stop you from worrying.

“You should really stop getting into fights.” You move around the island and take a seat on the stool beside Tsukki, setting the first aid kit onto the table. “You scar more and more every time I see you.”

“Are you worried about me?” He chaffs, cooing your name in mockery. You ignore him and tell him to move a little closer, the fluorescent light flickers above you both, allowing you to see the cuts a little clearer.

He smells like old cigarette buds and cheap store bought soap. It’s a peculiar smell, but it isn’t as peculiar as his lifestyle.

“I’m annoyed by you.” You deadpan, beginning to dab away at the wound marking his forehead.

“Well, aren’t you gonna to ask me?” You grimace at him, harshly pressing the cotton against his wound. He flinches away from you and meets your overt eyes, “S-Sorry…”

“Even if I were to ask you, it’s not like you’d tell me.” Tsukki’s walls stand taller than his pride and are even more guarded than a mother to her own child.

“So, why keep helping me, huh?” He clicks his tongue and inches a little closer to you. He’s testing your sense of boundaries, but you’re unfazed. Instead you rip open a bandaid and slap it on him, causing him to seethe at you like he was a cat you threw into a tub of water. “I could be a serial killer, you know. Or someone really dangerous.”

You chortle, crinkling your nose at Tsukki’s cringe worthy strive to be mystifying. For the umpteenth time since he walked into your life, you bury your eyes into the back of your head.

“I like it better when you don't try so hard to be scary,” You tease, smiling at him and he mirrors you, playfully tilting his head just a little. “If you were gonna kill me, I’m sure you would’ve done it by now.”

You wipe off the dried speckles of blood and dirt sticking to his face. Though, the more you try to wipe it away, you begin to question what exactly he is capable of, and if it's his blood or someone else’s.

Like he usually does, Tsukki ignores you and shifts the conversation by asking you about your week. You tell him about your early morning class and the uncomfortable commute there. You lie about having lunch with your friends because tell him you didn’t have any to spend it with would be too embarrassing for someone as cocky as him to know.

There isn’t much about you to share; your life slides on the average side of the weighing scale of coolness. So, you worry you might be boring him, but as you clean the tiny scratch near the corner of Tsukki’s eye, you realize he’s looking at you like a shiny, lucky penny laying on the ground.

He’s looking at you with softness in his eyes and a subtle smile.

Fluttering. That’s what you feel tickling the pit of your stomach and you choose to yield from it, clearing your throat. You flicker your eyes to the plastic bag sitting behind him. “What’s in the bag?”

Without turning away from you, Tsukki extends his arm and reaches for it. He places it on his lap and you pull back, watching him as he pulls a pink cardboard box like the ones from the bakery; and lets the plastic float down to the floor.

“I don’t know much about you,” Tsukki begins, clearing his throat and wriggling in his seat.

For the first time since you’ve met him, all you saw was a walking brick wall that had the personality of dick. For the first time, you see him nervous and a little fidget-y and you enjoy it.

“But I do remember the things you share with me in true confidence even when I don’t always return the favor.” You bite down on your lip, containing your laughter at the sight of Tsukki with his head hanging low, straying away from your gaze. “In the last six months since you took me in that night, you show me kindness.”

You straighten your back and widen your tired eyes when he opens the little box and pulls out a tiny frosted cupcake with a very small candle standing at the top.

You blink because blinking is all you can manage to do.

You didn’t think he’d remember because you merely shared it in passing through a sea of useless information you exchanged between each other and two glasses of fizzy diet coke.

“No one should have to spend their birthday by themselves, don’t you think?” He finally moves his head to look at you and you swallow thickly, lips dried as you realize that all your hiding had been pointless.

But all you can manage is smile, grateful at the gesture and overwhelmed by soft tickling in your stomach. You want to cry because you’ve finally been met with gentleness even if it came from a stranger.

Tsukki looks at his watch and slowly begins to count the seconds. “Happy birthday,” He says your name quite differently than before. Your name sounds like a tune of your favorite song that you’ll wanna replay again and again. “Make a wish that counts because that damn cupcake was pretty expensive.”

You pout as he quickly falls back to his usual self. Clasping your hands together and closing your eyes, you do as he says and conjure the best wish you can make.

With your teeth tugging at your bottom lip, silencing the leftover thoughts lingering in your mind, you wish for happier memories and more friends, but most importantly, though you find him odd and a little annoying, you wish Tsukki could stay by your side.

But it's too bad that out of the three wishes you confidently offered to the gods, they’d choose to decline the one.

[humanized-nonhumans]

Uh... love letter Rusame? - C

Aww, love letters 🥺 (Ignore my attempt at some pretty prose and poetry-)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Love letters were nice... as long as you knew how to write them.

The only problem? Russia didn’t. He had never been one for sappy things like feelings and... feelings. He really didn’t like dealing with emotions. But lately, he’d been feeling a lot of them. All for a specific someone, who he was pretty sure didn’t like him anyway.

That specific someone was the one and only America. How Russia fell for him of all people, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he fell fast and hard, which is never good. Especially when the person of affection is a long time enemy of yours. But the universe was cruel, and feelings were crueler.

And so, here he was. Staring at the parchment with his hands buried in his hair and a headache creeping in. The pen sat idly on the desk, and the sky grew steadily darker. At this rate, he would have to give the letter tomorrow, and he really didn't want to do that. “Why are emotions so damn hard?” He growled, letting his hands fall. “God, I fucking hate this.”

Maybe I should take a break, he thought, twirling the pen with fluid motions. He pulled out his phone, and scrolled through his feed. Pictures of couples doing lovey-dovey things were all he saw, and his heart ached. He wanted to do that, he really did. Would he be able to? Probably not, but that didn’t stop his yearning. A picture caught his eye. America was sitting on a rock, and smiling down at the camera. He looked so happy and free. Russia chuckled at that, even as an idea hit him. Was it a venture? Yes. But this entire idea was so absurd, he might as well go through with it.

He grabbed his pen, and started writing.

Stars and Stripes, freedom and strife, You’ve been through it all, haven’t you? War and peace, victory and defeat. A longing for flight, and a penchant for fights.

You’ve loved and you’ve lost, You’ve gained and you’ve given. You’ve bled and hurt, but smiled through it all. Even when you hit a wall, or even when you fall, You’re right back up with a new fervor. You’ve wept and you’ve laughed, You’ve fought and you’ve healed.

Sometimes you’re a disaster, Sometimes you’re the epitome of perfection. Sometimes you’re the last man standing, and around you is nothing. Sometimes you’re the first one down, even as everything is burning. Sometimes you know so much, sometimes you don’t know enough.

Isn’t it funny how we’re often blind to our love? God, I don’t even know when enough is enough. I’m drunk on that feeling, always craving more. It’s shaken me to the core, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. It’s been a journey of pain and longing, of fighting and yearning, But oh, at long last, I know where I am.

I am with you, America. I am with you through it all. Through the falls, and through the rises. Can’t we put our past behind us, because I’ve just realized this: I think I’m in love with you.

His face burned with embarrassment. It was cheesy, and frankly, not very good. But at that moment, it was the best he could come up with. He signed his name at the bottom in a sharp, curling script. He tucked the letter into an envelope and sealed it, and attached the envelope to a box of chocolates. Again, very cheesy, but Russia does not know how to deal with these feelings. “Can’t believe I’m actually doing this, oh god.”

20 minutes later, he was standing outside of America’s house. He was practically vibrating with anxiety. This is a bad idea, very bad idea, oh my god, what am I doing- He thought, even as he rung the doorbell. He waited, tapping his foot. The door cracked open, and he was greeted by a very surprised American. “Uh, hi Russia? What’s up?”

Just do it before you lose your nerve, dumbass. “Er, uh-” Great impression Russia, very brave.

Shut up, he thought bitterly at his brain, before taking a deep breathe. America watched on in amusement and confusion. “You good-”

“Happy Valentine’s Day?” He interrupted, holding out the chocolate and letter.

America giggled, and he felt a blush rising. Aww, he’s so cute.

“Thanks Ruski. Come in, you must be freezing.”

“...America, this is basically summer weather for me-”

“Ignore my previous statement, I wasn’t thinking. Come in anyway.”

Russia obliged, and stepped into the house. America led him to the living room, and gestured for him to take a seat. “Water? Coffee?”

He shook his head, silently waiting for America to read the letter. He’s gonna hate it, he’s gonna hate it, he’s gonna hate it-

America shrugged, and sat down beside him. “Ask if you need anything.” He traced his hand along the seal, and opened it slowly. Russia watched the movements intensely, anxiety rising every second of the wait.

America pulled out the letter and unfolded it. As he read, a smile grew on his face. And was that... a blush? When he got to the end, he let out a gleeful laugh, and pulled Russia into a bone crushing hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! God, I love it so much!”

“I- you do?”

“Yes! You don’t even know how long I’ve felt that way, do you?”

He stared at him, mouth agape and eyes wide. “What-”

America rolled his eyes. “Oh, you’re dense. I like you too, Russia.”

“I- uh- terrible choice, but thank you?”

America laughed. “You’re welcome.”

You know, he thought, joining into the laughter, maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea.

[cherrywoes]

— five

— abaddon

THE JOSTLING OF THE crowd did little to ease your nerves. You were constantly worried that someone would reach into your bag and steal your wallet—the participants looked that seedy to you—or push you so far to the back of the crowd that you’d sustain injuries in the process. You almost regretted standing so close to the fencing when people started throwing confetti and what looked like bras and underwear down into the arena. That was a UTI melting pot just waiting to happen.

A man sidled up to you after a timer started on the tiny bars lining the fence. You would have ignored him, except his features were striking and his hair was one of the more bizarre styles you’d seen—tufts of spikes, each one seemingly held there by gravity alone—and narrowed eyes that were fixed on his phone screen. His name was written on the sleeve of his jacket, but you couldn’t make it out because of the giant wrinkles in the elbow. He didn’t even seem to notice how close he was to you so you subtly edged away, clutching your bag and looking back at the timer which was slowly counting down from ten.

The closer it got to one, the more rowdy the crowd became. You cringed at the loud screams echoing in your ears and the booming music that had started up, likely to drown out the crowd itself for the fighters, and tried to focus on the opening doors in the center of the arena on either side.

An announcer, hidden somewhere in a back room, coughed and tapped a microphone. The speakers squealed and all of the music cut off abruptly, as did the cheering of the crowd, proving your theory about drowning them out wrong.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, devils and angels,” the announcer said after a moment. “How are we doing tonight?”

The resounding responses were loud enough that you almost jumped out of your skin.

“Good, good! As you all know, the betting pool for tonight’s next match is unusually high; but so is the matchup—if you have not placed bets, I would suggest you do so before the end of the three rounds so you can rake in the rewards.” A sly laugh. “Anyway, we have our first contender: Yuriel Bane! Give it up for the human!”

You watched as a man stepped out of the right door. He wore only shorts embroidered with the company name of his sponsor and waved to the crowd cheerfully. You clapped with the rest of them to be polite, but looking around you could tell that no one was rooting for the man—humans never fared well in Eden, you’d heard, at least in places like this.

“What a polite applause,” the announcer noted, a thread of amusement in his voice. “I almost feel bad for him. What do you all think?”

Like you thought, everyone agreed.

“I thought so. Well, of course, he is fighting a devil—a notorious one at that. I’m sure you all know him, or why would you even be here?”

You had no clue who it was but the crowd did. Their shouts and screams were enough to rattle the fence—or maybe that was you just shaking from nerves—and consequently your bones. You’d have a pounding headache after this, you were dead certain.

“Wow, you guys are really excited huh?” The announcer snickered. “Well, there’s no reason to delay the inevitable. Ladies, gentlemen, devils and angels, I give you Abaddon, the destroyer!”

The door opened—but no one was there.

Faster than you could blink, the human man was already on the floor, hit hard enough that he was reeling from the hit. In a few moments he was up and fighting with the seemingly invisible figure—he was hard to keep up with with human vision—and you watched as the man reached back in his pocket and throw a silvery substance in the other fighter’s, Abaddon’s, face. It sparkled in the light as it fluttered to the ground, but the effect it had on him was surprising; he stopped dead in the middle of the ring, right before the human man.

You couldn’t see much or make out a whole lot since his tattooed back was to you, but you could just barely see the blood dripping to the floor so quickly that it was almost like a running faucet.

“Penalty!” the announcer shrieked, panic overtaking his normal voice. “The opponent has used angel dust!”

Angel dust; you knew the name. It was a particularly harmful substance to devils, used to exorcise the weaker ones from the human world and potentially fatally wound a higher ranked one either in Eden or on Earth. Judging by the nosebleed this Abaddon had, you judged he had to be pretty powerful.

Beside you, the man mumbled,”Oh, shit,” but not for the reason you suspected.

“The medic has requested the match to be paused,” the announcer said after a moment. The crowd was so silent you could have heard a pin drop. “Please wait a moment.”

A man in scrubs appeared from the right door and escorted Abaddon to a folding bench in the corner that you hadn’t noticed before. He stepped in front of the devil before you could get a good look at his nose, swiping what looked like an alcohol wipe over the blood to clean it up and examine his nostrils. Whatever he saw clearly wasn’t cutting it and he made exaggerated movements while he was speaking, pointing harshly to the human man and then seemingly getting angry at the devil when he didn’t respond.

After a few tense minutes, the medic packed up and gave the crowd a thumb’s up, indicating that everything was okay. No one said a word.

You watched the medic leave and then looked back to the bench, curious to see what the angel dust had done exactly, when your body rapidly caught up with what your eyes were seeing—your heart dropped to your stomach so fast that nausea hit you square in the gut.

You knew this devil—except he hadn’t been a devil. Had he? Or… was he one all along?

Oikawa Tooru.

Your eyes were fixed upon him like spears of unholy fascination. He sat upon the medic's bench as if it were his throne, legs bent and spread lazily to make room for the growing puddle of blood at his feet. The muscles in his arms flexed, ropes of black ink and skin and brands moving with the sleek subtlety of a panther ready to strike.

He was agitated. Angry. Pissed off.

You could see the smoke curling up from his shoulders and billowing from his nose and mouth. It was a stark contrast to the pale gray of the fog machine, a brilliant white and rolling into the air. You could feel the nervousness and anxiety coming off of the man beside you in waves, his concern trained on the man in the ring.

"Fuck this shit." You could read his mouth from where you stood twenty feet above behind a steel cage. "If he wants to toss the rules, I can toss the goddamn rules."

He was up and off the bench before the medic could finish sewing up the gash on his cheek. His opponent wasn't expecting it--not the blatant disregard for rules or the superhuman strength behind Oikawa's punch.

You heard the crack of a neck snapping before you saw it. His head lolled back and followed his body in a swift motion, hitting the concrete with a solid thump. Blood wept from a wound at the back of his head, creating a horrific halo around his corpse.

Oikawa Tooru emerged the victor.

But when he turned, ready to raise his arms for the victory cheer, he caught your eye. You hadn't wanted him to, had meant to leave before he ever turned around and caught a glimpse of your coat.

His nose flared, muscles bunching tight like live wire. He could smell you now, over the throng of people tossing money into the pit and the blood streamlining down his cheek, and your blood heated in your veins, responding to a painfully familiar call.

You were caught.

Your first instinct was to run. To run far, and fast, and away from this man, who you had no idea was a devil, or even a man who could kill someone so easily. You couldn’t even focus on the dead body in the middle of the ring; your eyes were pulled to Oikawa’s—or Abaddon’s— like magnets, surprised at the familiar color and the unfamiliar emotions in them.

You had no chance to escape.

He was scaling the fence before you could even blink, faster than a bolt of lightning, and was in front of you within a breath, breathing hard and streaked with blood droplets across his chest and neck. You instinctively looked up at his face, red with blood and his own nosebleed, and felt two hands creep up the sides of your neck and face—gentle, soft, as if they hadn’t just battered the life out of a man just seconds before. You felt blood, warm and wet still, smear down your skin with the movements of his fingers against your skin.

It almost felt like those days back at the orphanage.

And then, shattering your innocent thoughts of your past together as children, Oikawa pulled you into a bruising, soul shattering kiss.

                                               MASTERLIST.

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                        taglist: @lucyrocks86 @dancing-in-the-rain54 @earphonekiyouka @lerawynnn (let me know if you want to be added.) 

[atomosphericnonsense]

Just another thought to prevent sleep tonight but let’s consider polynein platonic/romantic soulmate au where you feel a shadow of your soulmates pain just for the drama of it all. All that pain being shared just a fraction between all of them. Like little Veth feeling Yeza’s bruises but one day she get feels a scrape on her knee and goes to bring him flowers or something and he’s not injured??? And the two of them growing into love together with the knowledge that Veth has at least one other soulmate out there. All the phantom pains from Beau and Yashas training The day they all woke up with their fingers aching because Molly spent the night digging himself out of his own grave. For most of them they were really young when Caleb broke, and they all just wept from the emotion of it all and then had nothing else from him until he broke out of the hospital. Caleb barely even recognizing his soulmates’ pains while he was messed up. All the little unfortunate scrapes and hunger pains that fjord had growin up- all those fights he got in. Cad has his fair share of small injuries growing up but once his family left all his soulmates feel his hunger pains. All of the Nein waking up clawing at their throats when Veth is drowned. All the Nein waking up when happens again but to fjord. Jester growing up sheltered in her home coming up with stories for every pang. All of the little cuts that molly had from his class just worrying the rest of them. Yasha and Zuala sharing the pains from their nomadic life and getting married, when Zuala died Yasha felt it bro, and Yashas pain is also the neins. I’d imagine Yasha didn’t think much about the pains she would feel that were neither hers or Zualas. But her and molly figured out fast they were soulmates. With the rest of the Nein it took some time and a bit of denial on all of their parts. During those first few fights there’s so much going on it’s a bit hard to tell who’s pain is who’s. I’d say that both Caleb and nott figured out they were soulmates rather quickly but didn’t talk about it (in classic widobrave lack of communication). They all realize molly is a soulmate rather quickly considering he causes a good portion of his own pain. It basically becomes a trail of “really you too???” Dominos as one by one they see someone get hurt and feel it themselves. I would think it takes them a bit to talk about it, except for Jester- she’d probably be so excited to finally have names for all the scrapes. She’s the first one to go “you guys, who drowned???” During a truth circle or something all excited to finally know about her soulmates. How they all react to the soulmates thing would defo just follow how they reacted to each other. Most of them mistrusting and then becoming protective. I think Molly would have been a bit weird about it. I imagine him squinting at the other members of the Nein like are these my soulmates or whoever was buirieds soulmates?? But he comes around to them all, escpecially with the circus gone and Yasha yashing off. Oh Lordy Yasha alone chasing stroms feeling the battles the Nein are going through and knowing who they are. Knowing that pang in her side was one of them and she wasn’t there. Fuck I am not even going to think of how they all felt when Molly died. Fuck that noise. Especially how Jester and fjord would have felt it from inside the caravan but that Yasha wouldn’t have because she was unconscious. Instead I’m gonna think about how when nott shot beau and Cad felt it in his side he suddenly realized that he had found his soulmates and they’re dumb as heck. He probably wouldn’t tell them about it, wanting to let them realize on their own that they had come to their soulmate for help. Them realizing it during the rescue mission and having no time to process. Jester definitely cried a little when she realized Cad was another soulmate- like she had just lost one only for another to turn up to help save them. Then al trading late night stories behind injuries and Cad asking who was always getting cut everywhere and just silence falling on the group.

Enthusiastic stories about Mollymauk following as they all loop him in to what he was like. Everyone feeling nott take that last hit from the dragon to save Jester. When nott starts going through withdrawals they all get whispers of the headache. The pain and hurt and shared nausea during the revelations at Felderwin when they first arrived. Them all having to deal with the fact that their soulmates and people who keep lots of secrets and people who aren’t necessarily trusting. Having to figure out what their relationships are- oh holy shit them al feeling it everytime someone is knocked unconscious or killed. Them all understanding Notts aversion to the water a bit better because they all felt her drown. Just all of it. Man all of it. It’s like two am and I’ve been awake for so long but I keep thinking of all the implications of soulmate pain. Oh goodness fjord feeling jester start to drown in that temple and not wanting her to know what it actually feels like being apart of his kiss of life. Them all feeling the stab through the chest of molly and then beau and then fjord all identical im placement and just how much it hurts. Them fighting Yasha when she’s under obanns control and feeling it as they do it. When Caleb was charmed and he threw that fireball he felt the flames. When nott shot Yasha. All of the times they’ve been turned against each other. The blood pact between fjord and Caleb being felt across everyone’s hands. The moments where jester was alone that first time in the happy fun ball being absolute torture for the rest as they wait to feel her being hurt. Oh man I need to go to bed. Imagine first though when they rescue Yeza that whole time Jester managed not to tell him that she was one of Veth’s soulmates through sending. She also manages to keep it to herself when first talking to him because she is good at keeping secrets when they really matter. And then when Veth goes in, after a good part of their canonical conversation she goes “honey, you know how we figured I had one other really injury prone soulmate wandering into trees and stuff somewhere out there?” And he’s like “yes of course did you find them?” And she smiles awkwardly and is like “it’s actually seven really injury prone soulmates and most of them are standing in the hall” and he’s just like “ohkay” like that whole exchange would get so much funnier. Just all of Notts secret family would become even more of a bomb drop because of the added wait a mintue you have another soulmate that your married to and have a child with and you’re not actually a goblin??!??! The whole complexity of no one knowing what to do with the information or with Yeza once they rescue him would just intensify.

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

Whumptober No. 2

“What is the nature of your medical emergency?”

Rios could imagine the EMH flickering into existence beside him, asking his ridiculous question even while looking at the bone sticking out of Cris’ arm. Of course, the hologram had been programmed to go through a standard catalogue of inquiries, but after several years of service aboard La Sirena, including a variety of medical emergencies (all of them involving Rios, the only crew member with an actual human body), Cris had a feeling the EMH had stuck to that question only to annoy him.

How he wished he’d annoy him now. 

Cradling his broken arm, he gingerly shifted to find a better position leaning against the spiky wall of rock that made up his prison cell. Not that there was a lock or even a door. Not even a force-field. The cave-like structure had a roughly triangular shape, its tip opening to a corridor that disappeared into a right turn. It was mocking Rios to get up and run, but even if the pain in his arm didn’t make him gag at the simplest movement, the collar around his neck kept him from even trying.

Oh, he had tried, of course. He’d pushed himself to his feet, breathing through the agony that lit up in his arm, and taken a few unsteady steps to the exit. But, nearing some sort of invisible trigger, he’d felt the thin, cool band around his neck starting to hum in warning. And then the pain had hit him. Not like an electric shock. That was child’s play compared to the searing, all-consuming wave that had travelled through his blood and bones - broken or whole - while refusing to grant him the mercy of unconsciousness. All he’d been able to do was drop to the ground and ride it out, waiting for the agony to pass or for death to please please end it. 

It had passed, eventually, after seconds or minutes or hours; he couldn’t be sure. He’d fallen asleep after, right where he’d dropped, and dragged himself back to the furthest wall of his cell when he’d woken again, shaking and with his arm pounding as he tried not to move it. Whatever technology was behind that fucking collar - he was not going to test it again.

Thus, he’d resorted to waiting. Waiting for his crew (he had a crew now, he reminded himself) to either break him out or get the Hul’t’arah what they wanted: six tons of Anthysium, a rare mineral from a small planet in the Delta Quadrant. Rios had no clue what the fuck the Hul’t’arah were planning on doing with it - it was mainly used as a medicinal ingredient - and, honestly, he didn’t care right now. All he wanted was to get out of here before his arm could fester and fall off.

Stupid enough of him to let himself get captured in the first place. Even more stupid to put up a fight when two hairy, six-eyed, seven-foot tall humanoids with the strength of an ox had you by the arms. He’d paid for his resistance with a casual twist of his wrist that had snapped his ulna and radius like twigs, one jagged bone end sickeningly penetrating his skin. He’d screamed. He’d thrown up. He’d become used to the sight and the pain in the last… what? Two days? Three? 

But he had a crew now, he kept telling himself as his stomach churned from hunger and pain and the open wound on his arm wept suspiciously milky fluid onto his dirt-encrusted pants. A crew that consisted mainly of holograms, but with the recent addition of a little blonde doctor who’d stuck around, an old former Star Fleet Admiral who frequently booked him as a pilot and a recovering addict who sometimes came along for the ride. 

They weren’t exactly the cavalry, but they were on board of La Sirena, and he was pretty certain they would not just let him rot down here.

And they didn’t. Later, when he’d curled up into a ball against the onset of fever chills, his arm throbbing with every heartbeat, he was roused from his haze by noises outside his cell. Animalistic grunts. The hiss of phasers being fired. Bodies dropping to the ground.

Two figures stepped into his cell, and in the murky darkness, Rios recognized the wild curls before Raffi squatted down in front of him, Soji at her side.

Soji?

“Cris, babe, we’ve got to go. Can you stand?”

Raffi helped him uncurl and flinched at the sight of his arm. It was Soji who hooked him under on his good side and easily, gently pulled him to his feet.

Rios gasped a Spanish curse when a wave of pain rolled over him. His head swam.

“I c-can’t get out of here,” he stammered. “I can’t… the collar.” He stretched his neck to display it. “It’s tr-triggered when I-“

But Soji was already on it. Her free hand closed around the thin band, and Rios felt a tickling sensation, then heard a crack, like wood splitting in heat, and the collar fell away.

Raffi kicked its broken halves aside and carefully slung her arm around Rios’ other side. In spite of the women’s support, he felt his knees threatening to buckle.

He shook his head.

“I can’t w-walk.”

“You don’t have to, babe.”

Raffi plucked something rectangular from her belt and attached it to Rios’ chest like a com badge.

A flickering pillar erupted above their heads.

“Channel established! Three ready for transport!” She spoke loudly, locking eyes with Soji.

“Aye, Raffi,” Picard’s voice, distorted, sounded from a distance. “Hold on tight.”

Picard’s warning was justified. This transport was a rough ride that had nothing to do with the seamless blink-of-an-eye relocation of molecules Rios was used to. As Raffi and Soji held him by his belt and around his back, he felt a wrenching sensation travelling through his body. They had to be breaking through some kind of force field. He wasn’t sure if he screamed - there seemed to be no air in his lungs, in the spray of pixels that was his lungs as his body was dissolved and then reassembled in a dizzying whoosh. Every cell in his body burned when he landed on a hard surface, eyes closed against the pain. Hands were on him immediately, and then he finally heard it:

“What is the nature of your- oh, bloody hell!”

It was the permission Rios needed to sink into unconsciousness.

***

He woke to the smell of very clean surfaces, humidified oxygen and Agnes. Her hand was at his cheek when he opened his eyes. Her face - tired worry lighting up - appeared above him, haloed by circular ceiling lights. 

Sickbay.

“Hey,” Agnes said softly, mouth widening into a grin.

“Hey.” Dios, he sounded awful.

“How are you feeling?” 

Rios swallowed, looking down at himself. Most of his body was covered by a medical blanket, but he could see - even if not feel - his injured arm. It was encased in a holographic ossifier that was blinking and whirring away as it knit his bones back together. Underneath the blanket, he felt his skin prickle where the biobed’s micro-injectors fed medication into his system. An oxygen clip tingled under his nose. There was no actual pain, but his whole body felt heavy and flattened to the bed as if coming out from under a serious illness.

Mierda.

“I guess- ” He had to clear his throat. “I guess I’ll be al- “

“You will be perfectly fine, Captain Rios,” the EMH chimed in, materialising by the bed. “Now that the sepsis is abating and the compound fracture in your arm is fusing. Although we did have a bit of a close call when your kidneys were attempting to shut down - a process, which, quite fortunately, I was able to reverse in time.”

Rios rolled his eyes at the hologram’s self-indulgent gloating. Agnes chuckled.

Weakly, Rios lifted his good hand and waved it at the EMH. “Deactiv-”

“THAT won’t work,” the hologram said with barely covered smugness. “Not until your body functions have returned to a satisfactory level. Remember?” He pointed at himself with a tricorder that had appeared in his hand out of thin air. “Emergency hologram. Self-activates until the emergent situation has been fully resolved. It hasn’t.”

He fucking smirked. Rios felt his head beginning to ache. 

Frowning convincingly, the EMH looked at Rios’ vitals projected against the wall of the cubicle. 

“Your blood pressure and cortisol output are elevated,” the hologram observed, immediately wielding the tricorder to point it at Rios. “Are you experiencing any kind of discomfort?”

Yes, Rios thought, it’s called ‘annoyance’.

“No,” he said as firmly as possible, when Agnes looked at him with new worry. “I’m fine.”

“Still,” The EMH replied, checking the tricorder’s readings with exaggerated concentration. “I would like you to get more rest. Your body has been through a serious trauma and needs to repose.”

Rios would have liked to roll his eyes again, but it hurt his head too much, so instead he merely sighed while Agnes, instinctively, stroked his forehead. 

“He’s right,” she said gently. “You should sleep. You look exhausted. And you’re not missing out on anything. Picard, Enoch and Emmett have things under control.”

The old man, his Irish fanboy and the tattoed narcoleptic. 

Rios’ headache intensified. He closed his eyes with a groan. 

���Rightt, that’s enough.” 

Something beeped and, alarmed, Rios tore his eyes back open.

“Oye! You’re not going to inject me with-“

Too late.

He heard the hiss of the hypo spray and felt its cool contents permeate the skin of his neck. The last thing he registered before sleep took him was the EMH’s sorrowful remark:

 “He really doesn’t get any nicer.”

__________________________________________________________

(Read all my Whumptober 2020 fics on AO3, here.)

[sharkbait-writes]

I hope someday I’ll make it out of here

Fox-week, day #6, magic/phantom pain

Title from lovely by Billie Eilish and Khalid

@loving-fox-hours

There were various pictures flowing behind his eyelids, colourful and telling of a story, CC-1010 was not familiar with. Although they were blurry with the speed they flashed by, what they meant was unmistakable.

CC-1010 didn’t know why he saw them, but they stole his attention and he couldn’t look away.

Pictures of white walls, creatures with long necks and big, round, black eyes, their entire body long and slim. Brothers, older and younger than him, looking up to him and out for him, rolling their eyes at his silliness. Arms thrown over his shoulders, bringing him in closer for a hug, with joyous smiles directed at him. Helping hands and soothing kisses. Secret stories told in the dark and stifled laughter, going behind their instructor’s backs. Brotherly teasing and protective shields.

Of brothers in arms, living and not having a single care in the world.

Pictures of fire and ashes, sand walls and creatures with small wings. Droids attacking, shooting at his brothers. Jedis fighting and dying, overrun by the enemy. Vode coming as backup, but dying all around him, getting hit by stray fire and falling to the floor, never standing back up, their last breath and actions forgotten, the war getting more recognition and letting the first real battle fall into its shadow.

Of the end of the only life he knew and the beginning of his own sorrow.

Pictures of a planet, layers upon layers, people living their lives there. On the outer layer, buildings, reaching into the sky, and lights twinkling in the night and a temple, standing peaceful and proud amongst the hectic life around it. Him, along with many of his vode’ika, protecting their home planet, watching their vode leave for battles they might never return from. Him, standing amongst people with ridiculous getups, shooting to save them and the citizens of the planet, while getting almost no gratitude. So many of them alive, but other brothers fighting on different planets, losing their lives and nobody, except their vode and maybe their jedis, caring about their sacrifices.

Of him staying alive, when his vode died every single minute.

Pictures of his vode turning their backs on him, giving him the cold shoulder and ignoring his existence, except for when it was convenient for them. Spitting words of hate at him and fury burning behind their eyes. Getting headaches and losing memories, feeling as if he lost important time.

Of a time, everyone began to hate him and he started to feel isolated and self-hatred.

Pictures of a safe place. Protective arms and soothing words. Warm eyes and a strong shield. Hidden glances and stolen kisses. An escape from the sick world around them. Words of protection and love muttered between their spaces, as their fingers traced maps of secret pathways on his skin. Steady hands, keeping him grounded. Dark brown skin and even darker, longer hair, but eyes shining bright with love and admiration and face markings more golden than the brightest sun. A body, taller and more muscular than his own, and a stronger mind, surer of themselves and screaming of confidence. But never forcing him to do anything he wouldn’t want to and never leaving him when everything got too much. Always there for him, accepting and supporting him, and unbreakable, unyielding love. Even when he started to lose his own mind, thinking too much about the time lost and hate at him, with frayed edges in his broken mind from unseen mind-manipulation. The pure and genuine love felt between them too earnest and too strong to break.

Of an escape to a safe world, whispered words of love and shared plans of the future.

Pictures of a joyous world, falling to pieces and losing everything he ever thought to know. Telling a life, he once lived, where everything was burning down but he had a singular place to escape to, protecting him. But then it all came crashing down, burying him in his mistakes and making him live a life he couldn’t object against. Surrounded by vanishing love and brothers that never wanted anything to do with him and people who thought they were better than him.

Of a lie he was told was his life.

The pictures began to speed up, mixing up with others, making CC-1010 feel dizzy, until they came to an abrupt halt. Their colours mixed into one bright, white light, blinding him.

Suddenly it got hard to breath. He started to lose his senses, the only thing that stayed were the bright light and a singular shrill echoing in his ears.

And suddenly, CC-1010 woke up.

It was as if a switch was turned on, one moment he was on his knees and dying, the next he was laying on a stone floor, awake and very alive.

At first, it confused him, but then his memories flowed back, and he scrambled up hastily, breathing hard and eyes blazing in hurt and confusion.

He was sent on a mission, nothing special, just scouting on a rocky planet, looking for what happened to one of their older bases after it was forgotten and left alone after so many years not used. He was sent alone, after all, he only had to make sure it was still standing and usable.

As soon as he saw his destination from his cockpit, however, he knew that wasn’t the case. The only thing left of the base were ruins, itself and the land around it destroyed and burned to a crisp.

His mission was over before it began, but CC-1010 didn’t leave right away. He didn’t know why, but there was something drawning him in, and he wanted to know what. Before he could change his mind, he was already landing his ship and made his way out.

He looked around the ruins, but nothing was there, that could help him with his search. He decided to return to his ship but then got ambushed. Before he knew what happened, he was hit by a spell and fell to the floor.

Then the pictures appeared.

But CC-1010 didn’t care about his mission. What he cared about were the pictures and what they meant.

They told him a life he once participated in and that he lost. They gave him the answers he seeked for, back when he wasn’t CC-1010.

But all of that didn’t matter right now to him.

He fell to his knees, squeezed his eyes shut. His mind was screaming in pain and anger and he let the empty planet hear it, as he opened his mouth. His entire body felt numb, except for his brain and heart.

He was crying, screaming for everything he lost and the pain he felt.

Screaming himself hoarse as he wept for his brothers and their jedi, for his jetii.

For the love lost and time never regained.

He cradled his heart, curling into a protective ball around it and touched the ground with his forehead.

He screamed in pain, even if it wasn’t real and he had no visible wounds.

Fox screamed and cried.

For everything he had lost. Whether it was the friends and family, dreams and wishes, opportunities and chances, something else. Love and time.

As much as CC-1010 wondered about his former life, Fox never wanted him to experience it. But with the returning memories came the emotions.

His heart bled, hurt oozing out of it along every drop of blood. His mind was screaming out in anger, but his heart was crying in pain. The hurt was crippling and he wanted it gone. He wanted it gone, to join his vode who had their own free will and to join his lover. To join them in the realm nobody could hurt him anymore, wanted to join them in kyr’am so badly.

Fox screamed and cried, for the love lost and time never regained. Tearing himself up about what he could have done and didn’t do, and ultimately, killed them all single-handedly through those decisions.

For the pain he felt because of it.

Translations:

vode – siblings

jetti – jedi

kyr’am - death

[subtextread]

My mama, and I, are so set in our ways. My mom can’t help but say triggering things - I perhaps can’t help by being triggered by maybe mundane things. It’s work (Work™) not Reacting, and I’m working very hard at it because we are in a scary pandemic and my dad already died this year.

But after washing dishes and saying a goodbye which felt loaded for me and probably/hopefully just flew over her head, I think it was natural to find myself thinking about my dad. My dad had such little access to me - even when circumstances changed and I grew up. He was just grateful to spend time with me and see me. There were times he wanted influence over my life, what parent doesn’t, but it wasn’t the entirety or even a majority of our relationship. I don’t say this as a critique of my mama - she and her side of the family had to do the raising and all the actual work of caregiving, so it’s natural that she also wants a heavy hand in transforming me into what she thinks is right. I’m just saying that there was a balance there. Maybe in safe, well-adjusted families that balance exists with both parents as a unit. With mine it was polarized between them. All that to say, I felt that balance palpably growing up and I wonder if I ever conveyed outwardly to my dad or even to myself in recognition that I appreciated the unconditional nature of his love.

The one year anniversary of my father’s death is in about three weeks. It feels like it was just yesterday. I was writing on tumblr the day it happened because pen to paper was too hard (it’s still kind of hard).

I have hit many roadblocks with processing his death. No death of this magnitude can be easy, but the isolation is unbearable. I will never be able to see my father’s final resting place. When I think of him, there is so little tangible to hold or places to go.

After seeing my mom I ended up driving to the last place he lived when he was here. It was hard. Trying to hold vigil, trying to manifest ritual in these circumstances feels like grasping at vapor, at punishing myself and trying to discipline out memories of places and images that must be somewhere in my mind. It’s also hard because my father lived a life of such transience. His last home in the city was an affordable housing unit, but it’s in a glitzy part of Old Town in Chicago with super commercial streets all around. The building is gated and secured because it is, by its nature, a place people try to access for sanctuary. I was only there for a few minutes. It didn’t feel right to be there, seeing its gentle and cheery Christmas-light bedecked lobby several feet behind the fence while people in need of sanctuary waited outside.

I remember my dad’s unit. If any of you have read the screenplay to Brokeback Mountain, when Alma Jr, Ennis’s daughter, comes to visit him at the end of the book, she’s saddened by the utilitarian nature of his dwellings. That’s how my dad lived too. Is it how all divorced, working class dads with adult daughters live? He had his inflatable mattress on the ground, a hearty and healthily stocked fridge, a TV that only kind of worked, a dial radio, a small closet of pretty chic dad clothes and fancy leather shoes, a lot of magazines and library books. That was it.

I drove around Old Town a little. I could see him walking around there. I could see where he’d post his mail and where he’d board the red line, and where he’d go get groceries.

I went to our old apartment. It was the apartment I was born in, and where my father probably last lived a full 20 years ago. When my parents were together, our family occupied several of the units in the building. This apartment was the backdrop of all of my baby videos and photos. After my parent’s divorced, my dad stayed there still. It was super shitty, to be honest, and at the time, mice-infested haha, but I didn’t know any better. It was home. Its crappiness kind of made it a place of some level of abandon. Once it was just my dad (but even before then), he - and I guess the whole family - had given up on me not drawing on the walls so at some point everything under three feet was just Scribbles, for example.

During that period where it was just my dad in that apartment, I remember a few things - my dad had hung up his target practice headshot sheets (from... work? he was a security guard) on the walls, lol #art. He once made a makeshift swing which hurt my butt and broke a lot but was fun anyway.

One time - ha - I found a tube of bright pink lipstick in the bathroom and subsequently used it to adorn the scribbly walls with a pop of color. I distinctly remember as a kid being like this is weird, but okay. And now, as an adult, I wish I had a camera on me when the implications of my lone, always alone, dad having a random singular tube of hot pink lipstick in his bathroom dawned on me l o l. I was driving down the highway to my childhood home and after being the lady calculating numbers meme for a hot second started cackling hysterically Through The Tears™. My father was just a person, after all. We are all just people. Full, complete, independent people with lives that are always somewhat secret from our loved ones.

I got to our old apartment and there are these two big rocks that have just been there decoratively on this Chicago corner for 30 years at this point. One of them used to be a white/light gray, smooth stone and the other one was a rugged rock with one fully geode encrusted face. I distinctly remember being little enough to climb on them (the white one was slippery, the geode one had purchase making it easy to climb). They’re still there, although now I could literally just climb from one to the other like they were steps on a set of stairs lmao, and the white one has been darkened thanks to city grime ✨. That was the strongest memory of this particular vantage point of our home that I have. All other memories are from the window looking outward, like waiting for my dad’s taxi (like all immigrant south asian dads, mine too was a taxi driver at one point) while listening to the sounds of traffic on wet pavement after the rain.

I texted my brother to ask if he remembered which floor we lived on. He said “wow, weird”. He had just had a dream of our apartment last night. My brother is currently about a half a day ahead of me time-wise, so I think he was both very surprised by our connected subconscious and also perhaps a little concerned that I was visiting no longer familiar neighborhoods at 1 in the morning. But my brother is gentle about this. He didn’t have much of a relationship with my father, his stepfather. He was the first person I called when I was told of his death and he soothed me in all the perfect ways as I drove the 15 minutes it took to get to my mom’s from work. He told me I had been a good daughter, that my father had loved me with the entirety of his being and had lived solely for me, and that I had made him proud and that he had known I had loved him. I wept and wept apologizing that he had to comfort me over someone he had a difficult relationship with, over a stepfather who hadn’t treated him the best, and I could hear him shrug over the phone. He said my father had been a simple man who was constrained by a difficult life and that he had not any ill will towards him. May God protect my brother always, inshAllah.

It’s funny attempting to create ritual, chasing some sort of catharsis or relief in places that felt loaded with meaning, but on physical approach, are devoid of it. My father’s most recent place does not hold his spirit, my birthplace apartment is now occupied by another family and probably furnished up to code. I arrived back to my place having had a stilted cry, a period of smug laughter, a nice conversation with my brother, and now a headache. I’m still stuck in some ways. I’m still figuring out how to process a grief that has elusive, elusive memories attached to it and nothing physical to represent it. But I tried, and my earlier hurt from my mom doesn’t feel all that present anymore. We will keep on trying.