Hear Me by SilverYoko
Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha
Spoilers: Placement of the last shard, the truth about Kikyo and Inu's past
Summary: The rich, silky tone of his voice. The way her name rolled off the tip of his tongue...was it possible that she had fallen in love with this person based on their voice? [Sess/Kag]
She wasn't quite sure when it began, or how really. It could probably be gathered that it was just a misplaced phone call, a random number that was dialed in place of what was really meant. Either way each and every night she was home from the Feudal Era she sat on her bed waiting for that call. Each and every night the call came, and it only came when she was home from the Feudal Era and only then. She had the occasional call from her school friends but only one call she really looked forward too.
The fact that it only came on nights when she was home should've told her something about the person she was talking to. She didn't even begin to think about it until it was too late though.
The rich, silky tone of his voice. The way her name rolled off the tip of his tongue... was it possible that she had fallen in love with this person based on their voice? Surely she wasn't that stupid?
It was true though. She waited anxiously every night for that call, tried to make it back home so quickly, stay home even longer so she'd be able to speak with him just a day longer.
She didn't know him, or his name. He knew hers though. She had told him after a month of speaking with him; she wanted to see how it would sound rolling off his tongue. It sent a shiver up her spine every time he spoke it.
It was never like that with Inuyasha. He always spoke her name with a hint of disdain, anger, or whining. He was always whining her name when she had done something even remotely stupid.
Three years had passed since she had even begun her journey for the shikon no tama. There was one fragment left, the fragment that was in the in-between world. Even Naraku's latest reincarnation hadn't been able to get his hands on the last shard. So now their little group toiled in a race with Naraku to figure out who could get their first.
Neither Naraku's incarnations nor her group were doing that well.
Kikyo traveled with them now. Oddly enough Kagome had been the one to suggest it, while her miko powers had grown over the years they still paled in comparison to Kikyo's own. It was more for the well being of her own group, Inuyasha's mind wandered constantly with thoughts of Kikyo's well being and his protection over them had suffered greatly because of it. So she had casually suggested that maybe Kikyo would be willing to fight alongside them now with the completion of the Shikon no Tama so close.
It had hurt to see how quickly Inuyasha had agreed. A tiny part of her was still in love with him, a part of her heart that she had only been able to give to him. He was her first love and she had a feeling that part of herself she gave to him wouldn't be coming back to her anytime soon.
Kikyo's disposition towards Kagome had calmed down somewhat. She was not nearly as intent on taking back that part of her soul, Naraku taking up her focus almost completely. That wasn't to say that Kikyo didn't frighten her. Sometimes when Kikyo thought she wasn't looking Kagome would catch her just staring at her in a certain way, see the light catch in her eye and Kagome would be swept up in the hatred that swirled within those chocolate brown eyes.
Those were the times that she was truly reminded just how little humanity remained inside Kikyo. The part of her that was brought back only consisted of hatred and anger; it was hard for her to imagine what her incarnation went through or what she felt. She imagined it as being at war with your own body, because there were times when she would see such turmoil in the elder miko's eyes that her breath would catch and a tidal wave of guilt would wash over her.
Then she'd scold herself and remind her that it wasn't her fault that Kikyo died, it might've been her fault that Kikyo was brought back but it wasn't her fault things had turned out the way they had. It never quite stopped her guilt though, she would always think "if only" and too many scenarios to name would pop up and worsen her assurance.
After Kaede's retelling of Inuyasha and Kikyo's romance her belief that the time of Inuyasha and Kikyo being over faltered. Ever since she was a child Kagome had loved tragic love tales and it didn't get much more tragic than what had happened to those two. She hadn't even known about the curse that was placed upon Kikyo, to never be able to love a man...Kikyo had been so sure that she would never fall in love. What was it really about Inuyasha that drew him to Kikyo? The tragic priestess had never had problems with men before but when Inuyasha came along it was like all that changed.
It was also around the time she had brought Kikyo into the group that, that first call came. That night was so clear to her now, before if she had tried to remember anything about it nothing would come. She had ached so badly that night, a misstep and she had been pumped full of Naraku's miasma. So Inuyasha had let her go home, at Kikyo's request, and the only thing on her mind was sleep and maybe a pain reliever. Or three.
Her bed had been so comfortable, it sunk underneath her weight and her mind was drug almost immediately into the realm of sleep. Yet her new, very loud, ringer woke her and with a yelp she had almost fallen off the bed. So she wasn't very kind to the person on the phone and felt almost bad at the stunned silence that followed her snappish, "What!" It hadn't taken the person on the other line long to gain their bearings back though because their smooth voice cut through her anger, it had been so familiar almost achingly so.
She still wasn't able to place it though, but each time they spoke his voice nibbled at the recesses of her memory.
She had been crying that night, as she had lain in bed she had cried silently. It wasn't the first time she had cried herself to sleep because of Inuyasha. This time it had been different though. She was there to have a first hand experience with how he interacted with the undead miko. His voice would say her name as though it was a caress, something to be treasured...and the way he said hers was like he speaking to a child, someone who just didn't get it. This time it was though she was crying because she knew that she had lost him, not that she had ever had him, but it was as though she finally understood just how much Inuyasha had cared for the priestess.
Kagome never told him. But she liked to believe that he knew what she was doing as she slowly pulled away from him more and more. He had promised to protect her for always, but his promise to Kikyo had taken place long before her and his promise to Kikyo meant more than what he promised her. It didn't hurt as much as she thought it should've. At one time Inuyasha had meant everything to her and she was almost positive that if she didn't have Sango, Miroku, or Shippo then she would've fallen apart. But because she did have them it was easier to let go, she had given them a part of her also. The parts of her that they held helped to heal what she was losing.
She didn't hate Kikyo. She didn't hate Inuyasha. She pitied Kikyo; she knew that it was unfair what had happened to Kikyo. The girl, woman, had given up everything for the Shikon and yet had gotten nothing but misery in return. She had lived only for Kaede before meeting up with Inuyasha and because she had dared to love, she was only human in the end, she had suffered so much.
She hated the jewel, the jewel that could bring so much misery yet carried unbelievable power within just one tiny fragment. Demons were throwing their lives away for just a taste of what the jewel had, she could only dream of what it would've been like to have to protect the full Shikon no Tama.
Kagome was ripped from her musings at the shrill ringing of her phone, she kept the ringer because it was the only one that was able to rouse her in the mornings. The stuffed animal she held in her hands was trying to survive the death grip she had on it as she reached over with a shaking hand to pick up the phone.
She had only asked to meet him once. He had adamantly told her that it was best that they not meet at this time, that he couldn't be sure that she wouldn't hate him. She jokingly told him that she could never hate him. He had told her that she wasn't so sure.
She had only asked him that once.