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ssukidesu · 1 year ago

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Inextricably Knotted (an Inukag + Jane Eyre AU) [Chapter 8]

Summary: Kagome Higurashi was orphaned as a baby and raised by her cruel aunt until the age of ten, after which she went to school and learned the art of service and self-suppression. Now eighteen, Kagome takes a job as the governess of Shippo, the young ward of the great and mysterious Lord Inuyasha Taisho.

But as Kagome gets to know her bemusing master, a ghost seems to haunt his estate, hinting that there is a long-lost secret hiding on the third floor.

(Read on AO3)

tag list: @heynikkiyousofine @xanthippe-writes

Chapter 8: An Unexpected Guest

Another week passed. Kagome managed to adjust to her subjection to not only the party’s gatherings at night but also its foul glances and slights during the day. Because of her consistent evening presence with them, Kagome could no longer successfully be ignored. Most of their attention came in the form of treating her like a servant. The ladies would ask her to refill their tea and wine, or to deliver letters to the courier, or to bring them their shawls when the fireplace did not offer enough heat. When Mr. Taisho was present to witness it, he would say nothing to deter them or correct the mistake. Just this morning, after Lady Kagura interrupted Kagome’s breakfast to ask her to fetch a quill and ink, the latter lifted her gaze for a brief second to her master across the dining room and found him already looking at her, an expression of quiet curiosity on his face. She could not stifle her look of annoyance toward him, and she could have sworn that his eye twinkled with entertainment in response.

Later that night, before Mr. Taisho joined them all in the drawing room, Kagome ascertained that Lady Yura had witnessed the subtle exchange. The demoness, who currently sat between her sister and Sir Koga, beckoned her over with a sharp smile plastered on her face.

“Yes ma’am?” said Kagome politely, looking her squarely in the eye.

“I’ve been wondering something about you. Would you mind satisfying my curiosity?” she purred.

Kagome’s eyes flicked to the two beside her and determined that they were not debriefed of her plot beforehand. Lady Kagura seemed to anticipate her sister’s words excitedly, while Sir Koga seemed more so to dread them, if his tight, cringing smile was any indication.

“If it is within my power, ma’am,” she answered.

Yura reclined in her chair and brought one gloved hand to trace the pearls gracing her pale neck. “How old are you?”

“I’ll be nineteen this autumn.”

The sisters shared a scandalously amused look.

Lady Yura’s white teeth flashed an antipathetic grin of which only females were capable. “I had an inkling! How strange it is—to be teaching a boy only a couple of years younger than you. I do wonder how old you’ll be once he graduates from your tutelage. What will it take for him to reach adulthood—fifteen, twenty more years?”

Lady Kagura nodded in agreement. Kagome caught Koga staring at her with a look of smothered discomfort. She offered him a small smile, appreciative of his silent sympathy.

Lady Yura continued, “And, oh—how fragile the human constitution is! There are many who do not even make it to thirty five due to sickness. Can you imagine, sister, living only a few decades before being pursued by death?”

Kagome bit the inside of her cheek. “My lot is indeed less agreeable than yours, my Lady. In fact, I probably ought to conclude our conversing this instant to save myself the precious seconds that dwindle away as we speak.”

Her heart pounded at her own insolence. Lady Yura scowled at her, and in the corner of her eye, she saw Sir Koga stifle laughter. She would have flicked her gaze to him, had not another voice risen from behind her.

“Miss Higurashi, surely you know better than to encourage Lady Yura’s playfulness. You speak of precious seconds, but one does not trifle with her without a full hour to spare for the spar.”

Kagome turned at her master’s teasing tone, and had not her jaw already been clenched, it would have fallen open.

Mr. Taisho stood not three feet from her, his silver hair pinned in a simple yet masculine bun at the base of his neck, his braided forelocks draping along his jaw and secured beneath, much like the style she had performed on him months before. He quirked a brow at her speechlessness, a fond, knowing look telling her that he had succeeded in catalyzing the reaction he desired.

“You may return to your seat, Miss Higurashi,” he said.

Kagome gulped in relief at his command, pulling her eyes from his face and to the floor in one movement as she bowed her head once. She resumed her lonely place—Shippo having been sent to bed early due to a mild sickness—and picked up her book again. As her eyes traced the words, her master’s voice sabotaged her focus.

“I’ll be erranding to town early tomorrow. Would that I could stay up gallivanting with you all till dawn, but I must retire if I’m to survive the trip. You can stay up as late as you wish; just tell the servants when you are turning in so they can put the drawing room to rest.”

Kagome peered up at him curiously, wondering if he had the audacity to expect her to stay until the rest of the party left. Mr. Taisho strode toward the door, which was near her seat, and before she could begin lamenting her charge, he paused, leaned down toward her, and muttered pleasantly, “You can retire whenever you like, as well.” With that, he continued out of the room and to the right. The door closed behind him with a soft click.

Was that his way of being subtle? thought Kagome in horror as she felt the weight of the room’s scrutinous eyes. Lady Yura managed to school her features, but Kagome felt the very air between them darken with a new shadow that no doubt spelled future trouble.

As much as Kagome feared the thought that the group saw through his faux dismissal, she did not feel at liberty to play dumb herself. She closed her book, stood, bowed her head once more, and exited the room. She even turned left upon leaving to make it appear like she was not following him; not until the door closed behind her did she timidly spin on her heel to begin her true pursuit.

Which did not take long—for he, too, had only pretended. He was waiting on her, back against the wall and arms crossed. The amused smirk on his face told her that he saw her little ploy to throw off his guests during her exit.

Blood rushed to her face. Careful not to outright stomp, Kagome approached his relaxed form. She was just about to demand an explanation when he held up a shushing finger and kicked off the wall. His back to her, he led them on.

Once they passed the bend and gathered a safe distance from the parlor, he spoke: “I need you for something.”

“At ten thirty at night?”

“As I said,” he began, turning his head to glance goldenly at her, “I’m leaving early in the morning. I’d rather not wait.”

“And you didn’t see it fit to approach me during my working hours?” she drawled.

“I’ll add a pound to your wages for the trouble,” he said sardonically.

Kagome was curious, yes—but as it became increasingly clear that he was leading them to his bedroom, the pounding of her heart almost became too much to bear.

Upon reaching his door, he stood within the frame and held it open for her. She moved to pass through the narrow path without making eye contact, but he held out his arm just in time to stop her. She peered up at him quizzically and found all evidence of humor gone. “Still think I might be the kind of savage to tear apart unsuspecting humans, do you?”

Kagome opened her mouth to protest, but his glare silenced her. “I could have heard your heartbeat from a mile away. You earnestly think I’ve brought you here to harm you? If that were so, I’d at least raise your salary by five pounds for the trouble,” he teased.

Kagome pouted in defense. “It is strange being beckoned to a man’s quarters so late at night.”

In response, he lowered his arm to allow her passage.

The fireplace and lamps were lit, basking his room in a warm orange glow. Once inside, she stopped after only a few feet, her nerves whispering to stay as far from his couch and bed as possible—not that her logical brain suspected foul intent on his part, but she felt a spirit of wildness that made her jittery and unknowable to herself.

He passed by her and walked to his desk. He shuffled through papers a moment, scowling at every letter that did not prove the item of interest, until finally he found his prize. She could not see it from where she stood, but once he returned to his place in front of her, she saw that it was a small envelope.

“It came this afternoon. It’s addressed to you,” he stated, extending it.

She did not immediately move to take it, her gaze instead fixed suspiciously on his face. “What is it?” she pressed.

Inuyasha glowered at her hesitance, taking a half step closer to insist her receipt. “I wouldn’t know. I’m not one to intercept others’ mail. It is your business alone, unless you’re feeling talkative.”

Offering him one final tentative glance, Kagome took it. It was addressed to her in an unassuming fashion: To Miss Kagome Higurashi, governess at the residence of Lord Inuyasha Taisho, Judai-Ju Hall. There was no return address.

She peered back up at him and found his eyes wide with interest and ears angled squarely toward her.

“What—was it written in blood or something?” she tittered.

He puffed air from his nose and glared at her, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Forgive me for being curious. You’re most mysterious, with your supposed lack of relations. You’ve never received mail before. I can’t help it.”

“Well, then I suppose I should leave before you do turn savage and rip the envelope apart."

A month before, Kagome never could have imagined that she would feel comfortable enough to joke in such a way. But after listening night after night to the lighthearted humor of his friends, she felt that she could survive something this small.

But perhaps she was mistaken. Her small grin froze when he clicked his tongue and narrowed his eyes, his chin tilting up to make his downward gaze outright deriding. He took a step toward her, which she mirrored with her own step backwards. He stepped again, and again, until her back was pressing against the door. She had half a mind to turn the knob and flee, but he finally halted, and his hands stayed in his pockets. But he was close enough that she could smell the lingering cigar smoke on his breath.

His simmering eyes bore into her frightened ones. She sucked in a breath and began to apologize, “Sir, I didn’t mean—”

But then he was smiling. With her return to silence, he began to chuckle. “You say I do not frighten you,” he began lowly, teeth glinting in the firelight. She suddenly recalled the last time they were alone together in this very room—when he was near her quite similar to this. But his look now was far more vicious. He came even closer, lowered his face to her neck, and breathed deeply, the tip of his nose brushing her pulse. He went on, “But when it comes to it, you flee at the littlest things.” He blew a warm stream of air against her throat, as if to prove his point with an experiment. She felt the husk of his voice reverberate throughout her whole body. “Now, show me those wings of yours.”

She had tilted her face to pull away from him—which only served to give him greater access to her skin—and at the sensation of his breath and the command of his voice, she snapped into action, hand finally fumbling for the knob. Once she found it, she yanked it wildly and nearly fell backwards at its immediate opening. The air of the hall was far crisper, and it felt like escaping the entrapment of a dream. She stumbled backwards, eyes glued to his smug face all the while, and managed to stutter a “Goodnight,” before turning to flee. He did not follow.

Upon entering her room, Kagome absentmindedly approached her vanity to undo her hair and found her face and neck glowing crimson. She inspected her neck where he had nuzzled her and found no evidence—not that she thought there would be any—despite the lingering sensation of tingling.

The envelope, which she had placed on her desk, remained unopened.

With Mr. Taisho gone the next morning, and with Shippo still ill, Kagome had very little reason to leave her bedroom. She would have stayed all day—if only to avoid encountering the sisters—had not her stomach rumbled its displeasure.

Luckily, it appeared that the master’s absence also gave the others a reason to stay scarce. Kagome only encountered Kaede in the kitchen.

Upon greeting her, Lady Kaede mused aloud, “Just when I become used to running a nearly vacant house, visitors keep coming from the woodwork…”

“Has someone new come today, ma’am?” asked Kagome while she filled her plate with biscuits from the covered basket on the table.

“Indeed—one Suikotsu from the continent. He says he is an old acquaintance of Lord Taisho’s, and he insisted this acquaintance permitted his presumption to come and stay unannounced.”

Kagome felt just as doubtful about that as Lady Kaede looked. “I certainly hope so. Is he a demon?”

The old woman shook her head in disapproval. “Human. I just hope that I am not berated for believing him, should it come out that the master does not approve of his residence.”

“Where is the man now?”

“I situated him in a room perhaps thirty minutes ago. I told him he could visit the parlor if he liked, though our other guests whom he confirmed he did not know would likely be there.”

“Do you know when Mr. Taisho will be home?” asked Kagome.

“It will likely be late evening, at best. He told me to anticipate having dinner served without him.”

“I see,” observed Kagome. “Well, let me know if there is any way I can be of use to you in the meantime.”

Kaede smiled tiredly. “Thank you, my dear. I know.”

Kagome wondered as she continued eating if Mr. Taisho would be upset if she abstained from the group tonight. Something about witnessing a human stranger amidst the demonic party seemed unpleasant, on the off chance that the latter felt insulted by his unannounced presence. If Kagome were manager, she likely would have tried her best to prevent his meeting them at all costs.

After breakfast, Kagome paid a visit to Shippo, who was still ill in bed. She suspected he only had a cold, as he had no fever. She read to him for a couple of hours, more for the sake of abating his loneliness than of fulfilling her educational duties. He seemed grateful for the distraction and attention.

The day otherwise passed without incident—as far as she allowed herself to know. She did not visit the parlor herself to see if this Suikotsu would indeed join the company; if he had, and if something unpleasant had occurred, Kagome decided that ignorance would be the best way to avoid part of the blame.

Kagome planned to persist in her avoidance the entire night; however, when dinner time approached, Kaede came to her in the library and asked kindly if Kagome wouldn’t mind sitting in on the evening occasion, as Suikotsu had apparently stated his intent to join everyone after dinner to await the arrival of his supposed friend. Kaede, who could not attend due to other business, assured Kagome that her only responsibility would be to call for her if any unpleasantries were exchanged.

Kagome obeyed, of course. She arrived first, as she always did, and the party filtered in after they finished dining. No unfamiliar face yet marred the group, and Kagome hoped that he had changed his mind. But nearly ten minutes after everyone was settled with their card games and trivial conversations, the door cracked open.

The man looked unassuming enough; he appeared to be in his mid thirties, his black hair absent of gray but his face absent of youth. His clothes were fashionable enough, his comfortable economic standing made clear by the shine of his buttons and the flawlessness of his shoes.

The room—already quiet for its lack of the master—quieted even further. Kagome held her breath. Their expressions were not surprised, and she figured they were informed of his potential appearance. Suikotsu’s own expression was far easier than Kagome’s would have been in his position. She wondered for a moment if this was confidence or stupidity.

He bowed his head to the group in greeting. “Good evening,” he began with a voice far more effeminate than his relatively masculine features would have suggested. “I am Suikotsu. Forgive my sudden arrival; I do not suspect I will be at Jidai-Ju Hall long, as I am only here for a matter of business with the master. Do not alter your operations tonight for my sake.”

Lady Yura’s mother took the reins as the makeshift hostess and rose from her seat. “It is no issue—we are happy to make your acquaintance. Help yourself to some tea and wine,” she said. Kagome’s surprise at the woman’s hospitality was humbled immediately when, upon Suikotsu turning his back to shed his coat on the back of the couch, the woman exchanged a look of agitated amusement with her daughters at her side. She made a move to pour him a glass of wine nonetheless.

Suikotsu noticed her and said, “No wine, thank you. The tea is plenty.” He approached the tea tray on the table and served himself.

After Suikotsu settled on the couch, which faced the party amiably but was otherwise isolated, Lady Yura led the way in returning her sanctified acquaintances to their previous activities. The man sat patiently, eyes roaming from person to person as they conversed, though Kagome felt that something in his eyes spoke of aimlessness and absence of true thought. He must have felt her gaze, as he flicked his eyes over to her distant form at the window. Noticing her humanity for the first time, he offered her a soft smile of fraternity, and Kagome returned it. A simpleton he may prove, but she did find a surprising comfort in their shared mortality.

The clock ticked eight o’clock. She suspected the party would retire soon if Lord Taisho did not make an appearance. Kagome had numbed herself to time with a book, which she combed through so ravenously that she was startled by her encounter with the back cover.

When she lifted her eyes, she noticed that Suikotsu was engaging with Lord Koga. They seemed to be discussing business of some kind, and to her relief, Suikotsu seemed to be both keeping up with the demon and avoiding any unsuitable topics.

Kagome stood, stretched her back, and returned the book to the shelf. She muttered a pardon to anyone near enough to hear—whom she assumed was all with pointed and uninterested ears—and went to the earth room to relieve herself. Once finished, she considered not returning at all. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, but she supposed she would be remiss to neglect Lady Kaede’s wishes. She directed her steps back to the parlor.

The hallway was gloomy, the long patterned curtains swaying slightly from the window drafts. Candles lit the way, though their light was dim. It was always this way on low moon nights at Jidai-Ju Hall, what with the thickness and height of the surrounding forest muting any natural light that might have traveled from nearby towns. Kagome slowed her steps to passively peer out the windows as she walked. She could barely make out the tree-line. As if suddenly waking from a comatose state, Kagome recalled the nighttime appearance months ago of the bright serpentine spirit that came upon the house from the wood. She had decided back then to not voice this vision to anyone, and she felt this had been the right decision. While asleep or awake, she had not seen the creature since—and she became increasingly convinced that it had been a construct of a mind hovering between dream and reality.

Yet still, with each step, a part of her tensed when her sight of the wood was interrupted by the dividing walls between the windows. Indeed, every reemergence of that dark forest was preceded by a vague concern that it would not now appear as dark as it had a second before.

“Proving a truant, are you?”

This was the deep voice of her master from behind, equally frightful and soothing.

Unable to help herself, Kagome smiled at his playfulness. She was glad he was in a good mood—perhaps he would take the news of Suikotsu better. She halted her steps but did not turn. “I could say the same to you, sir. Your poor guests have found your absence most distressing.”

His voice was closer now, though not quite over her shoulder. “I hope they’ve gone to no great pains to entertain themselves.”

“I assure you they, on the contrary, are all but wallowing in their boredom. They will be happy to hear of your arrival.”

“It is a shame that they won’t ,” he said mysteriously. She thought it peculiar that he should not wish to see his apparent beloved and her family—even if his affections were performative. He stepped forward to take the place by her left side. When her eyes beheld him, she found his expression peaked with interest. His hair was pinned back the same way as before.

“Are you wishing to retire undisturbed?” she asked.

“Perhaps.”

“Then you are out of luck,” she began, reveling in her own opportunity to vex him.

He quirked a brow, his smile unwavering. “Oh? And who are you to tell me what I cannot do?”

“It isn’t about who I am,” she rejoined. “Who are you to neglect the arrival of an unsolicited visitor?”

To her dismay, though not to her surprise, his expression fell into a quick scowl—one of his more natural and habitual looks. “What’s the meaning of this? Someone has come unannounced?”

Kagome couldn’t suppress her cringe. “Yes, sir. He is in the parlor now—but do not blame the widow, as she did try to dissuade him. Out of fear of you, she did not outright reject him of the right.”

Inuyasha found this part of the news most bothersome, if his rolling eyes and clenching fists were any indication. “Who is the man?”

“One Suikotsu, sir. I believe he came from the continent.”

As soon as the name left her lips, Inuyasha’s body froze, eyes widening and jaw clenching shut. Then, in one motion, Inuyasha lunged to grasp her hand and tug her wordlessly down the hall a ways until they reached one of the offices. His grip was firm, the peaks of his claws digging in slightly. He released her once inside and briskly shut the door with both hands. He did not lock it, but his sudden desire to hide them fretted her all the same.

“What is the matter? Is he dangerous? Why’ve you hidden us?” she quavered, clutching her arms to her breast.

His back was still to her, his hands still pressed to the door. His voice was low—both with rugged emotion and with obvious desire to remain quiet. “He is a danger to none but me.”

“What do you mean, sir? Has he come to harm you?”

Inuyasha laughed bitterly at that, and he finally turned to face her, though his head was downtrodden. “He would never dream of harming me. He is… ignorant of his power.”

Kagome furrowed her brow, heart no longer pounding like a drum. “I don’t understand, sir.”

He did not seek to remedy her confusion. “Were you with them all the time until just recently?”

“Yes.”

“And he did not say anything peculiar?”

“No, sir. Nothing that stirred any trouble.”

Inuyasha seemed to relax his shoulders at that, if only slightly. But, as anxiety left him, it seemed to be replaced ounce by ounce with despair. He walked over to the desk and braced his hands on the wood, hanging his head. He was still for a full moment, during which Kagome observed him with quiet intensity. A brisk curse left his lips, and a hand came up to rub his eyes. He muttered so lowly she almost could not hear, “I wish I were on a deserted island someplace, and that you were my only company.”

Kagome felt a thrill cover her skin, but she suppressed her shiver. She approached him and timidly laid a hand on his shoulder. She craned her head to meet his gaze, only to find his eyes clenched shut.

“Sir, let me help you. I hate seeing you distressed. Surely there is something I can do?” Her own voice crumbled until it was only a whisper.

He looked up at her then, eyes level with hers for his depressed posture over the desk. His golden irises flicked between hers for a moment, and Kagome fought the simultaneous urges to shrink back—and to lean forward.

His breathless voice startled her. “Go and fetch me a glass of wine from the parlor. Inspect their faces and conversations for anything amiss, and then return to me here.”

Broken out of her fancy, she felt happy to be given an errand. Kagome bowed her head in acceptance.

As Kagome walked briskly back down the hall, she prayed that the party had miraculously retired in the short amount of time that had passed since her leave. But they had not.

She reentered with a single knock and found everyone still present, though almost no one conversed. Suikotsu was sipping his tea and occupying himself with a newspaper. The others were exactly as she had left them.

She walked coolly over to the wine pitcher and prayed no one would notice her; her wish was more or less granted, as all but Lady Yura kept their sights settled on whatever book, paper, or card they held. This lady did, however, offer her the distasteful look of someone who thought she was taking a liberty by pouring wine. But Lady Yura said nothing.

Kagome filled the glass and escaped the room without incident once again—though on her way out the door, she had the keen sensation of a shadow gnashing at her heels. She ignored it.

Kagome returned to the office and saw Inuyasha still standing, his front no longer braced over the desk but rather his back now against it, no doubt watching the door for her arrival. She approached, apparently looking less confident than he hitherto wished.

“Well?” he pressed.

“There appeared no incident, sir. Everyone was easy.”

Kagome could tell he was fighting to keep his expression neutral and unbothered—a silly attempt, in her view, as he had already bared his fears to her a couple minutes before.

“I see,” he said. “And they appeared no closer to finishing the night?”

Kagome hummed. “I could not tell. They seem to have run out of conversations, so it may not prove long.”

“I see.”

Inuyasha abandoned the desk and took a seat upon the bench that pressed flush against the wall beside her. She held her breath, his newfound apathetic silence nearly as unbearable as his prior anxious questioning. She would not ask to be excused; if she could help it, she would stay by his side all night if it meant the grip of melancholy loosened even slightly.

Inuyasha leaned forward to place his forearms against his thighs. His eyes remained stuck to the floor. His voice was reticent. “What would you do if every person in that room came in a unit and spat at me?”

After recovering from initial confusion, Kagome’s face hardened. “I would turn them out of the room,” she said simply.

“And if we were to join them in the parlor only to be met with cold silence as all of them rose to leave me one by one? Would you leave with them?”

“No, sir—I’d much rather stay with you.”

His smile was wormwood, his eyes now inspecting his clawed hands, which were pressed together in contemplation. “And if they laid you under a ban for adhering to me?”

Kagome disliked his line of questioning, but she did not flee from it. She could tell he needed her honesty, and she would be remiss to neglect him now. “I doubt I would hear of their ban at all—and it would be no concern of mine what people think of me outside these walls.”

Inuyasha finally lifted his gaze to her, and he stared unblinking for a moment. Then, he stood and stepped toward her, keeping their eyes locked. His voice trembled slightly—so slightly that a stranger would know no difference. “So you could dare censure for my sake?”

Kagome was lost in gold—lost in the furrowed desperation of his brow and in the weak frown of his lips—but she could still feel the tattered rope in her hand, her lifeline. She tugged it. “For the sake of any friend who deserved it.”

He had apparently shifted his eyes downward at some point, but his eyes lifted back to hers at that. “I see,” he said in a strange voice.

“Is there anything else I can do, sir? Do you wish me to tell him you will meet with him in the morning?”

“No,” he said quickly, almost harshly. He soothed his tone and hooked a finger around hers where it hung at her side, bringing it close to trace his thumbs over the back of her hand’s skin. “No, little bird. I will meet with him tonight. There is nothing left for you to do.”

Kagome blushed at the treatment, but worry still hardened her stomach. “If anything arises that could benefit from my help, please tell me. You can wake me, if needed.”

He smiled down at her. “If I need help, I promise you that I will seek it from your hand.”

Kagome bowed, deciding after all to interpret this as a dismissal, though his subsequent expression implied he didn’t mean it as one. But he allowed her to go without another word, and released her hand.

She came to her room and readied for bed, heart pounding all the while—for her master, for Suikotsu, and for the coming revelation of what the latter came to do here.

She laid still in her bed for an imperceptible amount of time. But eventually, in her half-conscious state, Kagome heard distantly the voice of Mr. Taisho say amiably, “I’m glad you’ve been well, Suikotsu. Let me know if there is anything else I can do to make you feel welcome.”

The muffled sound of thanks pleased her ears, and she resigned herself to a pleasant night’s rest. It did not take long before a dream enraptured her—a sweet dream that began with the sound of her door creaking open after a soft knocking. Even in her dream, her eyes remained closed—but she knew her visitor to be her master. Something in her could sense him, as if her soul knew the hum and affect of his own. She could almost see him through her closed lids, see the imprint of his spirit as he approached her bed with a light foot. She felt the weight of his hands on both sides of her head, felt the slow approach of his breath. Felt the softness of lips on her own, slow and feather-light, then deep and firm. The smell of him was nearly enough to convince her it was real.

But when stirred from her dormancy, he was gone, both body and soul, too fast and silent for any resident of flesh to manage—human or demon. She was indeed alone.

But she was happy.

The near absolute darkness of the world outside her window resolidified her unconsciousness. Her eyelids calmed their fluttering, and she permitted herself the liberty of remembering Inuyasha’s closeness, of imagining his touch, of pretending his affection. She fancied a vision of him coming to her room to simply lay with her, the both of them wearing the egalitarian attire of sleep and seeking the universal desire of warmth. In her mind, her master did not have to be her master: he could simply be her Inuyasha—a man who was free to locate his love wherever he wished. And in her mind, the idea that she could be the recipient of such love proved a delusion believable enough to be the subject of a hopeful dream.

Her fantasy did not last long, as sleep came upon her with yet another soft and sweet kiss. It is for this reason that Kagome did not notice the pale light growing beyond the glass of her window—growing, growing, growing, and then disappearing instantly, as if it was swallowed by the house in one motionless gulp.

#inextricably knotted #fanfiction #inukag #jane eyre #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha #another monster of a chapter

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