Chapter Text
Father's hands are lined with guilt
For tearing us apart
Guess it turned out in the end
Just look at where we are
We made it out
We still got clothing on our backs
And now I scream about it
And how it's so bad, it's so bad
It's too bad, it's stupid
Too late, so wrong, so long
It's too bad that we had no time to rewind
Let's walk, let's talk
Nickelback - Too Bad
Chapter 12 - Kagome
“Soooo, spill all the details! How was last night?”
My cheeks flushed at the loaded question through my phone's speaker. I tried desperately to focus on the road, but as the memories replayed quite vividly in my mind, the rest of my body flushed too.
“It was-” I trailed off, my tongue feeling heavy. Amazing was the first word that came to mind, but I didn't want to get sentimental. No doubt Miroku had filled her in on all the details, but saying the thought out loud made it more...real. I settled instead for silence, taking a quick sip of water.
“Did you two f*ck?”
The water in my mouth sprayed all over the dash.
“What? No!” Geez Sango, way to get to the point.
She clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Girl, you need to get some. You aren't still a virgin are you?”
I turned into the driveway of the shrine. Luckily I knew the turn by heart because my eyes were rolled so far back into my head at Sango's words seeing the road was impossible.
Could this morning get any worse? I'm in a foul mood, there's no denying it. Not because we didn't f*ck, but because I had to leave a very sexy hanyou in my bed this morning. With his tousled hair and his hard abs, and-
“Why does it matter if she's still a virgin?” I nearly faint at the addition of a male voice. “Leave her be.”
“Sango,” I wince, trying to take the venom out my tone, “Am I on speaker?”
“Hey, Kagome,” Miroku says sheepishly.
My foot hits the break too hard as Betty comes to a stop in front the shrine. Those two are hopeless. But with as much time as they are spending together, Sango probably tells him everything anyway. He better treat her right.
“I have to go guys. I will call you later Sango, fill you in on the details.”
The resulting squeal makes me wince.
“Yay, can't wait!”
---
I wipe down the shrine altar until the polished wood glows in the morning light. Smiling to myself, I hum a tune as I grab the broom from the corner. As I move around, a heavy scent lingers in the air, making even my human nose scrunch. I showered three times since arriving with the most pungent soap I could find – my dad's Old Spice. Now that I smell like I rolled in both a forest and a whole grove of citrus trees, I hope my scent smells more like all of nature vomited on me and less like a certain hanyou.
My cheeks hurt from smiling so much as I remember the sexy grin Inuyasha gave me when I opened my eyes. My body just melted, turning useless under his gaze.
My heart flutters at the thought.
I can't leave him. Hell or high water, I don't care. We were meant to be together. Something that feels so right can't be wrong. We will figure it out, together.
Rearranging a few candles on the altar, I glance up at the tapestry behind them. The walls are full of tapestries telling many tales, but this one is my favorite. The story behind it isn't exactly bedtime material, but that never stopped my mother. Long ago, there was a great war between mikos and demons. When all seemed lost and the demons were on the verge of eradicating spiritual magic, the great miko Midoriko sacrificed her life, saving her village.
My mom always had a glint in her eye as she told the stories, almost as if they were true. Dad would always humor her, but I believed they were more like Greek mythology, trying to teach us a lesson.
The click of polished shoes against the tile makes my heart stop. I adjust another candle as my hands start to tremble. I'm in no hurry to turn around as I take a deep breath. The air feels dark and tense, like the calm just before a strong summer storm.
“My parents are in town.” A candle to the left is slightly off-center so I slide it across the table, not daring to risk picking it up and possibly dropping it. “You'll have to come back later.”
“I'm not here for your parents.”
Mom and dad won't be back for a few hours; they had multiple errands to run. Briefly, I consider demanding he leave. I don't have a demon side like Inuyasha, but if I did, it would be in full force. Hate is not a word that is normally in my vocabulary, however, I f*cking hate Toga Taisho.
I shift a third candle, briefly glancing to Midoriko for strength. If I continue to delay the inevitable, I'll have a panic attack and that won't do. The last thing I want to be in front of Toga is unable to breathe and function.
I am not weak.
Spinning around a little too quickly, I find my footing, facing him. His expression usually alternates between contempt and faked polite formalities, but this look as his brows furrow is one I have not seen before.
He almost looks...worried.
He takes a step forward then stops and I don't take the extra space for granted. “I thought you were smarter than this. But I see now I have underestimated your resolve as well as my son's.”
I cross my arms, mirroring his stance. I can no longer lie to myself. “He loves me.”
The admission feels powerful, freeing even. The weight of every lie I told him, every lie I told myself, lifts from my shoulders. “And he hates you.”
I want the words to sting, to hurt him like he hurt his son. God knows he deserves it.
Toga's eyes widen before he scowls, “He thinks he's in love with you, but he's as ungrateful as his mother. You have no idea what love is. All the sacrifices I've made for that insolent-”
Remembering himself, he straightens his coat, swallowing the rest of his words as my pulse pounds in my ears.
He glares at the marble statue of Midoriko behind me, “Humor me, girl. Why do you think I don't want you with my son?”
I grimace. The question has plagued me for almost two years, but the answer is simple. “I'm human. You think we're inferior.”
“So was his mother.” Not my wife, or my love, just his mother. The word choice isn't lost on me. I know little about Inuyasha's family, but next to nothing about his mom, only that she passed away before we met. The one time I mentioned her, the pain in his eyes looked like the question split his soul in two. I didn't make the same mistake again.
“I don't know.” Now my insecurities are running rampant through my mind. If it's not because I'm human, then what else is wrong with me?
I have no doubt he'll tell me soon enough.
Toga's golden eyes scan the tapestries on the wall with disdain as his lip curls. His eye color is the same as his sons, no doubt a dominant trait, but Inuyasha's eyes hold a warmth that both his father and brother lack.
“I bought this place to destroy it.” The words make my stomach clench. It's common knowledge, but hearing him say it so simply reminds me the ease in which he could reduce our home to rubble. “I thought at first you were a fling of Inuyasha's, something to pass the time. The girls before and after you certainly were. He would grow tired of you and move on. I didn't interfere because if I told him to leave you he would stay with you to spite me. But Inuyasha has always been reckless and passionate, like his mother, and he marked you anyway.”
I wrap my arms around me for comfort. There's a point buried in his words and I get the feeling I would sooner live in denial forever than know the truth.
He strides to a tapestry depicting the death of a wolf demon at a miko's hands. “The stories on these walls are not mere legends and folktales; they are our history. One I'd prefer to forget.” His claws run along the threads, carelessly snagging a few stray pieces and pulling them loose. “Everything must be in balance, so they say. As demons were created, so were mikos – imbued with the spiritual power to subdue demons.”
He turns to face me his eyes burn with a quiet rage. “Only a few survived, thanks to Midoriko. Times have changed, but their offspring have not. Mikos have hunted demons since their inception. It's in their nature to feel unnaturally drawn to them.”
Oh Gods. Is he saying he thinks I'm a miko? That my love for his son is some kind of twisted supernatural pull?
No. This can't be right. Stories such as these have existed since the dawn of time as a way for humans to explain things beyond their comprehension. They're not real. He's just twisting it to fit his narrative.
He's wrong about everything.
I level my face with his. “I would never hurt Inuyasha.”
Toga scoffs. “And yet you already have.”
I swallow as my throat constricts. His fingers.
“His control over his demon is slipping because of the mark. If you both continue down this path, it will consume him.”
“You're lying.” His claws. The marks on his cheeks.
“Why is this not fading?”
My eyes burn with the tears prickling them. “If we complete the mark, he will be fine.”
I can't be sure, but my heart can't imagine any other outcome.
“Would you care to test my theory? You are capable of much more than breaking his fingers. A miko has never been with a demon. It's unnatural. Are you willing to risk hurting him?”
“Hurting him?” My voice cracks as I echo the words, but my mind is too broken to care. Coming here was a last ditch effort to control us. His grip on his son is slipping and soon he'll lose him forever. I don't care. I'll toss kerosene on that bridge and let that bitch burn.
“Do you ever stop to think how you hurt him?” The memory of after the game replays in my mind, reminding me of all the ways Inuyasha has changed since we were first together. All because of him. “For even a moment, do you ever wonder if his lack of control has something to do with the never-ending expectations you put on him?”
Taisho straightens his spine, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “He doesn't understand now, but he will someday. Everything I do is to protect him.”
“And who protects him from you?”
The words hang in the air as the tears dry on my cheeks. The click of his shoes echoes through the room as he walks around me, surveying the walls.
“I think,” he ponders to himself, “that this will be the first room to go. I'd demolish it, but I think I'd take more pleasure it watching it burn.”
My legs go weak and my vision spins, until he is all I see.
Claws grip my face, tilting it upward, with enough pressure to hurt but not leave a mark. I suppress the urge to spit on him as he studies me in the same manner as he did the shrine. My hands grip his arms on instinct, but we both know the truth. If he chooses to kill me now, my resistance will make no difference.
“I can almost see what my son sees in you. Beauty, passion, that pesky miko resilience and urge to keep fighting even when all is already lost.”
As quickly as he grabbed me, he releases me. Turning back to the main tapestry, he wipes his hands on his pants like he just touched something vile.
“Expect the eviction papers on Monday.” He picks up a candle and meets my eyes, holding it up in the air as if making a toast, before letting it shatter against the floor.
