A/N: Hey guys, this is in response to Skye’s “Reinventing the Classics” challenge WAAAAAAAY back in July. I finally finished it, Skye! I hope you like it! BTW, "karasu" is "raven" in Japanese.
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, nor do I own Edgar Allan Poe’s, “The Raven.” The original parts of the poem are italicized.
Beta: The ever wonderful and absolutely fantastic Wiccan.
Karasu
“The Raven”
Kagome and Sesshoumaru Style
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
only this and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December;
And each separate silent ember wrought its ghost upon the floor—
God, Sesshoumaru hated winter.
He hated the bitter wind; the frigid iciness that permeated every fiber of his being until even the silky strands of his hair felt frozen and even the warmth of Mokomoko-sama could not drive away the chill.
He hated the way the clouds suffocated the sun, suffocated the warmth with more cruelty than Sesshoumaru had ever shown an enemy. Yes, the clouds were truly powerful to be able to dim an adversary as formidable as the sun. They choked the light and warmth from the world and left only a desolating blanket across the sky. They were like silent predators that crept up on the unsuspecting sun and extinguished the warmth.
He hated the flurries of snowflakes that danced around his form, as if mocking him in his stillness. He hated, most of all, the way the coldness of the air found its way into his already frozen heart.
Rin had loved the sunshine.
She had died in the snow.
Yes, Sesshoumaru hated winter.
The walls of his home provided no comfort for him, no escape from his memories. Each draft of wind that ran through the building ran straight through him, reminding him of his lack of warmth. Each gust that rattled his doors was a scornful imitation of the giggles that had once echoed in the hallways…
The doors rattled incessantly, more so than mere wind could shake them, and Sesshoumaru let a slight frown show on his otherwise stoic face. He was not in the mood to deal with frightened servants, or, God forbid, a lost pedestrian who had decided to take a walk in the woods surrounding his home. It was rare that any human from the congested cities ventured into the forest this far in search of “mother nature,” but there were a few strays who stumbled to his doors to ask for the use of a phone, or directions or, even worse, a ride back to their car. He lived so far away from their habitat for a reason. He wanted his solitude. To be left alone with his memories.
An annoyed huff left his lips as he rose gracefully from his position of contemplation by the fire.
But as he stood, he hesitated. He could just let whoever it was leave on their own, forsaking any interaction with another living being. There was no reason he even needed to ask (or force) whoever it was to leave… they would do it on their own.
The door rattled again…
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore—”
Oh, fuck this. “Who is it?” Sesshoumaru demanded in a low growl. Whoever was on the other side would have no doubt now that the demon that lay within was not in a hospitable mood. Well, technically, the words “Sesshoumaru” and “hospitable” had never been synonyms of each other, but that is beside the point. He wanted to brood, and someone was preventing him from doing so.
He slid open the shoji door, and was met with darkness. Another draft of wind shifted the air around him, blowing strands of his silver hair against his face, and he almost impatiently pushed the hair back. Someone had been there… he could smell the scent of them. Trees and moonlight.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there was spoken was the whispered word, “Len—”
“Rin?” He blinked when he realized he had whispered her name in the silence. But there, in the darkness, he was sure he saw something shift; saw the glint of dark tresses floating on that damnable wind around a corner, and the faintest hint of a giggle.
His mind was playing tricks on him.
Rin was dead. Had been dead since last winter. And yes, while he was haunted by her memory, those memories had never before manifested themselves into physical form.
On the other side of the room, another set of doors rattled.
Yes. Tricks.
He strode purposefully to those doors, determined to prove to himself that he was being nothing more than a morose, idiotic brooder, which is not as flattering as being a homicidal, mysterious brooder, which is what he often was.
He shoved open the doors.
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;--
‘Tis the wind and nothing more!
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately—
“Woman.”
Sesshoumaru’s narrowed gaze focused on the slight female who stood before him. Another strong gust blew through the hallway, bringing the scent of trees to him again, and tossing the woman’s inky hair about turbulently. It shuttered her eyes, just a flash of blue his mind had registered before they were hidden.
There were black feathers in her hair. Raven’s feathers. They matched her outfit, a rather gothic-looking ensemble that flitted and fluttered around her small form. The only colors she displayed were the stark paleness of her skin, and that piercing blue.
The wind died down, leaving him to stare down on her in silence. She was a serious looking thing, her pale lips set in a straight line, and those glittering eyes fixed on his form as if she were trying to read into his soul.
The petite little raven-woman moved.
It had been a long time since Sesshoumaru could claim he had been at a loss for words. It was a very rare occasion indeed, but at that moment, he could honestly describe himself as nonplussed. The little sprite had seemed to waltz right past him into his chamber and had seated herself on the low table that occupied the far corner of the room and was now looking at him expectantly.
Nonplussed, indeed.
But, at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of admiration… or was it amusement?
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore…
After all, it is not every day that that a living being could commandeer the Great Sesshoumaru-sama’s room, looking for all the world like she belonged there and was waiting for him to start what was sure to be an interesting conversation.
Usually Sesshoumaru would have found solace from the melancholy thoughts that had been plaguing him about Rin by finding some suitable form of punishment for the little raven, but he was more intrigued than anything. Her scent still smelled of air, like the wind’s back, and the scent of the pine trees that surrounded his home. It was surprisingly fresh compared to the smell of loneliness that had come close to choking him on occasion.
Thoughtfully, he closed the door behind him with a click that echoed in the room. The woman still stared, and he could smell no apprehension or fear on her. A woman, alone in the middle of virtually nowhere, was now closed in with a demon who could kill her seven ways from Sunday with just a flick of his claws, and she was not nervous.
Interesting.
“If you are expecting me to begin introductions first, you are sadly mistaken,” he finally spoke, his voice cold despite the interest this woman was beginning to stir in him.
A curious thing happened.
At the sound of his voice, her eyes closed for a moment, and she breathed deeply, as if savoring it. A small frown knit in the place where his eyebrows met together as he studied the woman in front of him. Strange creature.
“Kagome.”
He blinked. “That answer has little meaning to me, unless I assume it to be your name.”
She just smiled.
“All right, then… Kagome. What are you doing in my home?”
“Sesshoumaru.”
He drew up short. The little raven knew his name. He supposed it was nothing to be completely surprised about. He owned much of the property in that area, and his name was well known in Japan as a writer of the Sengoku Jidai period. Oh, and the little fact that he came from a long line of demons and was still considered to be the most powerful and dangerous demon still living, by far. He commanded respect and fear, and even worse, admiration from countless people. It was no wonder that the woman in front of him knew who he was, but his curiosity just grew and grew.
“Sesshoumaru,” she said again, in a soft, modulated voice.
He had no idea of what possessed him not to throw the obviously strange woman out of his house. But she just sat there, staring at him with her serious eyes, and he found his feet drifting across the floor to sit in front of the table she sat on, staring right back.
But the Raven still beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore—
…was doing in his home.
She cocked her head to the side, staring at him curiously. Much to his later irritation, his own head mimicked the movement. A silent stand-off seemed to take place between them. He found his irritation growing at the continued silence, and clicked his claws against he table of the wood in a staccato rhythm.
“Yes, well,” he finally huffed, raising an eyebrow. “I think we’ve established that you are Kagome and I am Sesshoumaru. Now, what are you doing in my home?” And more importantly, why have I not kicked you out, his brain supplied.
She smiled a mysterious little smile, but her eyes had grown sad and sorrowful as she gently waved a hand in the air.
Rin’s scent filled the air, and Sesshoumaru drew back, snarling.
… “Wretch,” I cried, ‘thy God had lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of—”
“What kind of magic is this?” he growled out to her, eyes faintly flashing red for a moment as memories assailed him. The sweet scent of flowers and springtime air, so out of place after the long period of cold darkness that he had been living in.
“Rin,” she said softly. “She is gone.”
His breath came short and choppy, and his heart beat embarrassingly fast.
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil—prophet still if bird or devil—
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore—
Where had this woman come from? He gradually slowed his heart and narrowed his eyes at the troublesome female.
“Woman—”
“Kagome,” she said again, sorrowful eyes imploring him.
“Kagome,” he almost snarled. “I do not know what kind of demon you are, or where you came from, but if you value your life, you will leave now while I am still forgiving enough to let you.”
She cocked her head to the side in confusion. As if she didn’t know the turmoil she was causing within him.
“Rin,” she said again insistently, and the sweet scent of wildflowers overpowered Sesshoumaru’s soul once more.
“Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!...”
“Get out,” he said, lowly, dangerously. A rumble of a growl built up in his chest, a predator’s warning. “And do not speak that name again.”
Silently, the woman rose from her spot on the table and approached him. There was no caution or hesitation in her step, only sadness and compassion in her gaze. His chest felt too tight and he wanted to rip, to shred this woman and the memories she brought with her.
“I’ve seen,” she said, standing mere footsteps away from him. “I’ve seen you with her. Your happiness.”
He blinked at her words, the most she had spoken so far. Her eyes turned to the window and his followed, landing on the tree just outside the walls of his home.
“I perched there and watched. You loved her.”
It was said simply, and those blue, assessing eyes pinned him again. Strangely, he felt his rage at this woman leave him in a rush, and all that was left was the loneliness. She saw it, and her eyes beseeched him. Boldly, she took a step closer to him, almost close enough to touch, and lifted her hand… as if she would touch him. He had been so long without touch. Rin’s impulsive hugs were things almost forgotten, something he had not known he needed to remember until she was snatched from him by death. That thing which claimed all mortals and left him, the immortal, alone to wallow in regret.
“Please,” she said, her voice hitching just the slightest bit. “That face… do not make that face…”
Sesshoumaru was at a loss for words and he watched with detached fascination as a glittering tear fell down her smooth cheek. His clawed hand reached out, ever so slowly towards her face. He didn’t know why his hand didn’t stop, even when his brain commanded his muscles to freeze. All he could do was watch as his fingers gently tangled in the black silk of her hair.
‘Who was this woman?’ his mind asked again. This raven-woman who looked like her heart was breaking because of his sorrow…
Her eyes closed slowly, and her breathing deepened. He found his own breath slowing to match hers. An eternity passed in that moment. He couldn’t understand this woman, this little vixen who had waltzed into his home and reminded him of things better forgotten. Warmth, compassion, hope… feelings that had died along with Rin until he was as blank as the snow that covered the ground.
The woman, Kagome, shifted slightly backwards, breaking him out of the trance he had found himself ensnared in. He drew back slowly, but he couldn’t help but grab one of the raven feathers that adorned her hair.
“Is this a spell?” he whispered, so quietly he almost didn’t hear himself. For just that moment, warmth had filled him and, now that she was stepping away, the coldness was attempting to sneak in again. He wanted it back. He had no clue what was going on, and in the back of his mind, he knew he should be more cautious, more wary of this mystery woman, but that warmth beckoned him. He hadn’t felt like this since… Rin…
“You loved her,” the woman said again after taking a deep breath. “And after she was gone, there was only sadness. I am here to make it stop.”
“Leave my loneliness unbroken!—Quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
At this, Sesshoumaru regained some of his senses even as his heart jerked painfully in his chest. “You cannot make it stop,” he said scornfully, glaring at the strange woman before him in baleful anger. “And I care not for your attempts to ease whatever loneliness I may have.” He turned to the door again and his voiced hardened as his claws gripped the wooden frame. “Leave.”
“You need me, Sesshoumaru,” she murmured to him, her eyes seemingly seeing into his soul until he could almost feel it. “Let me take away your heartache. I cannot stand to see it.”
“Why?” he demanded, so confused over everything and so many emotions running through him that he felt like he couldn’t keep up. “Why do you care? What do you even know? Silly bird, what do you even think you could do for me?”
“I can stay,” she replied calmly.
Stay. The word seemed to echo in the silence that followed. In some unspoken understanding, he realized what she meant. She would be his companion through the loneliness and the darkness that sometimes threatened to overwhelm him. She was a different being, like him, blessed with long life. She could not die, as Rin had. To his horror, a burgeoning hope welled up in it before it was ruthlessly crushed.
“You presume too much,” he sneered. “Why would I want you to stay when I’ve been trying to get rid of you this whole time?”
“You need me,” she stated implacably.
“I need no one,” he said lowly back at her. “Especially little birds who fly where they are not wanted.”
“That is not what your heart is saying.”
He glared at her. “What do you know of my heart?”
“Everything. Anything. I can see inside of you, even your darkest, hidden desires. And I have watched you this whole time until my heart has become your heart.”
He wanted to scoff at her again, but the words stuck in his throat. She was looking at him as if she really could see into his demonic soul… all of the longing he kept hidden and the desire to have the warmth that Rin had brought to him back again. Could this woman really give that to him?
He shook himself mentally. Of course she couldn’t. He needed to get her out of there and he walked forward, intent on physically moving her if need be.
“Let me show you,” she whispered, and before he could react, she had her hands in his hair and stood on her tiptoes until her forehead touched the crescent moon in the middle of his.
His claws flew up to grab onto her wrists, but before he could, feeling flooded through him and he gasped. Warmth. God, it was so warm with her hands in his hair and her breath softly floating over his lips and cheeks. He almost wanted to burrow into it as the heat penetrated him. Then came the visions. Of them sitting in this very room with the fire blazing and comfort floating around them. He was reading with his head in her lap and she sat there, content to run her fingers through his hair soothingly, and peace ran through him. Visions of walks taken in the woods surrounding his home with her flitting to and fro, but always returning back to him for a brush of their hands, or a small smile. And then another, in his study, writing and working while she fell asleep on some pillows in the corner of the room, a small smile on her face as if she could feel his eyes glance over her from time to time. Even watching the vision filled him with contentment and with it came the knowledge that he could have it for an eternity. All because of the woman in front of him. This woman he did not even know, yet he knew he needed like he needed his next breath.
She reluctantly stepped back from him, and his breath shuddered through his lungs as he looked at her, eyes wide.
“I can give you love, Sesshoumaru, if you let me.” She looked at him, pleading. Please let me…
A thousand thoughts raced through him. How this was insane, how she was crazy, and how he was crazy for even believing her. This wasn’t like him at all. But that warmth, the remnants of the future she showed him, filled his blood and burrowed into his heart that was starving for it. And he found he could only ask one thing.
“And when would you stop?”
And she heard the surrender in his tone, the bewildered hope, and a beautiful smile graced her lips. She leaned closer to him still to whisper before her lips met his…
“Nevermore…”
Owari.
(Review if you enjoyed! Until next time, lovelies.)
Mujitsu