In the real world
As In dreams
Nothing is quite
What it seems.
-The Book of Counted Sorrows
His kiss was seared into my very memory. I know it is not real. It never happened. I never have been close enough to him to feel his lips against mine. I have not pressed lips to lips, my two blushing pilgrim lips have never touched his…but still, I know the taste of his mouth. I know the passion that burns within me when he grasps me within his newly regenerated arm, holds me close to him. How could this happen?
I started dreaming of him when I first saw him, standing regally upon the gigantic oni, tormenting his brother with the vision of his mother. He was every inch the aristocratic assassin. To me, he looked like an angel. A fallen angel, ethereal and untouchable. Oh, how I wanted to run my hands through that silvery-blue hair, longer and more silky looking that his half-brother’s could ever be. I wanted to run my tongue along the marks of his heritage. Run my fingertips over that dark blue crescent moon on his forehead, kiss him everywhere. To possess him, to make him as obsessed with me as I was with him. I kept this obsession hidden. To everyone else, I was innocent, clumsy, naïve, powerless, or at least unable to control the power I had. In reality, I was learning to control my powers. I studied any chance I got. I escaped from the group any time I could, and used the lessons I had gotten from Kaede, and later Miroku, to harness my powers and bring them under my control. I trained my body and my mind. Soon I was moving with grace and purpose, but never when they could see. To them, I must stay what I always seemed to be…I must always be the same. I must always be the same Kagome; they must never know that I had changed, my changes were only for him to see. He that held everything. Every part of me belonged to him. He was the reason for my transformation.
I realized, after a time, that Inuyasha did not really want me to improve myself. Once he found that my aim improved slightly with my arrows, he started really going on and on about how I would never even hold a candle to Kikyou and her power. He told me again and again how beautiful she was, how smart, kind, powerful, etc., etc….
It took me awhile to see it, but I finally did. He needed me to be weak. They all did. He wanted me to be the shard detector - and nothing else. He needed to be more powerful, and he needed to make sure that I never grew into my powers so that I was never a threat to him. I think that he was worried that one day I would turn into another Kikyou and that he would get pinned to another tree or something.
It was a foolish worry, but one I could understand. Inuyasha was not the smartest being. He had lived a life where he was persecuted for something that he had no control over, and he had to be on the defensive all the time. By keeping me under his thumb, he had that added protection. It was hurtful when I came to that conclusion, but I was able to get over it, simply by thinking of crescent moons and striped wrists.
My puppy love for Inuyasha began to die the moment I first saw him, I think. The dreams started that very night. My stubborn brain tried to hold out, tried to keep up hope for a future with Inuyasha, but it would not work. When Kikyou was revived and a part of my soul was taken, it really was the start of the swan song for that part of my life. After that day, the dreams were more insistent and began to become more and more detailed and erotic. How could I hold onto a love for the hanyou when every night I would make passionate love to his full youkai brother?
Each time they would fight, I would notice more and more that the object of my obsessions was there for a specific reason. He was not really trying to kill Inuyasha, he was helping him. He was training him. Each time a fight happened, Inuyasha learned something new. There was a purpose. Each time, my palms itched and I had to fight to not run to him and throw myself at him. I wanted to so bad. It was as if I was being drawn to him. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could resist.
Those memories burned inside me, each night I would go off by myself to train. I would leave them, let them think me weak, let them think me clumsy, powerless, naïve. Let them think me innocent. I would train under the stars. I would sometimes sit under the starry skies, sometimes look up and see the crescent moon - exhausted and sweaty from training and think of him - burn for his touch, and wonder if he ever even sees me. Wonder if he even thinks of me. I would sit under the starry skies and think of kisses and touches that are burned in my memory, that had blazed their way across my lips and body, but have really only happened in my dreams.
I sit under the starry skies, and despair.
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Prompt - Dream, Skye’s Dokuga weekly Ending 8/16/10
Rating - M, to be safe
Words - 924
Disclaimers - I don’t own Inuyasha, Rumiko Takahaski does. Book of Counted Sorrows is by Dean Koontz, also referred to Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet” (not full quote)