Edited: July, 2009

Title: encore une fois

Summary: And again, and again, and again.

Inspiration: Crack/cocaine.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Inuyasha.

Note: I’m revamping this story for errors and elaboration.

She didn’t love him.

Those words sounded so strange to her, even if they went unspoken. Kagome had spent too long telling herself to wait, to be patient. Give it time. One day, he would see her logic- he would come back to her. She kept telling herself this until it became so cyclical and repetitive in her thoughts that she began to forget what the actual meaning of those words were. Hope was becoming reflexive, and such is a saddening thought, so Kagome pushed it back into the shadows of her mind every time it threatened to overcome her whimsical ideals. Things would have continued on this way for quite a long stretch of time, had it not been for the flower.

Another consequence of her love for the half-breed demon was Kagome’s realization that she’d let slip a lot of words and their meanings. Tomes, and novels and boxes full of all sorts of words, and what they stood for- meaningless with time neglected, like what she herself stood for. The characters behind the name Inuyasha, for example. Inuyasha translated from Japanese to English as ‘Dog Goblin’, and the schoolgirl couldn’t have translated it into two truer words than those. Dog described Inuyasha perfectly, didn’t it? Ironically, so did Goblin, as his nature was that of one.

The word behind Kikyou’s name had a meaning as well. Kikyou could be translated with only one solid meaning, however: ‘Bell flower’. Such a pretty flower, too. One that tended to bloom in the spring months, according to Webster’s, which was bitterly ironic in Kagome’s mind. Kikyou herself was a dead but animate fixture of life, nevertheless Kikyou’s namesake would, of course, nurture and thrive in the season of recovery. The time of year when things rose from their icy shackles and resumed the never-ending circle that is life for one more go.

Inuyasha had once given Kagome a bellflower as a gift. The flower had been his first real act of caring for her in a way other than how a friend might, and Kagome had cherished the flower and it’s sweet aroma, cradling it in her grasp throughout the day. She hadn’t even thought much into Inuyasha’s added statement about how his past, undead ex-lover had always liked that kind of flower as well. Kagome had thought the demon was just being shy, and it was the thought that counted after all. She’d gone home, canopying the flower in her hands as she arrived in the snowy and wintry season of modern day, suburban Tokyo, her footsteps clumsy as she darted across the ice and up the many stairs to her home. She was met at the foot of the stairs by her Ojiisan and mother, and found herself automatically thrusting the cupped flower forward to show them. What better way to prove them wrong about Inuyasha than show them his gift? Show them that he was not so cold hearted, or immature, or demonic as her mother or grandfather would usually say he was, tones always joking, implications a serious aftertaste.

Her mother had been the first to respond, though an odd emotion haphazardly hid, written on her features.

“Aaah, Kagome-chan... It’s very pretty.” She had complimented, eyes crinkling close at what she wasn’t saying. Kagome, instead of questioning, just blushed in return, lavishing an affectionate gaze upon the flower. It indeed was very pretty. Her grandfather canted his head, however, eyes narrowing as he rubbed his beard between his thumb and forefinger thoughtfully. Kagome continued on, though, choosing to interpret their words and gestures for other emotions.

“Inuyasha got it for me, Mama. Do you have a small vase?” she asked timidly, her ash-gray eyes fixed on the flower. Her mother smiled, but paused in her actions as Kagome’s Ojiisan’s arm appeared between the two girls, reaching out and plucking the plant from between Kagome’s fingers.

“Don’t worry, Kagome. I’ve got a vase in the attic that this Kikyou will look perfect in.” He assured, turning and starting towards the stairs. Kagome looked blankly after her grandfather, confusion and surprise eating at her features, as her mother remained silent for a few moments. Hesitantly, Kagome managed to lift her head to her mother, anxiety playing across her forehead as she furrowed her brows in inquiry. Just what kind of joke was that for her grandfather to spout, calling the beautiful blossom a Kikyou of all things? Ridiculous.

“Ki...kyou? Mama, why would Grampa-?” But Kagome’s mother shook her head, pulling the now teary and confused girl into her motherly embrace. Mrs. Higurashi closed her eyes, petting her daughters hair in the way all mothers‘ seem to excel at, cursing Inuyasha’s ignorance and the existence of the well all the same.

“That’s the name of the flower, Kagome.” She responded quietly, eyelids lowering over her own ocean eyes. Kagome paused, staring dumbstruck into the cotton stitching of her mothers’ shirt as she let her heart process this. It took a moment for the tears to commence, and for the understanding to become fully digested and torn apart in her still love-befuddled mind.

And as easy as it was to learn the simple meaning of a flowers name, Kagome mused it was also very easy for her to learn not to love the Hanyou; if it wasn’t easy, it didn’t make it any less imperative. Oh, Inuyasha. Demon Dog. Half-breed. So many words were connected to her companion, and none really gave the sort of meaning that she once thought he deserved. And now, she rattled him. He was a bewildered Hanyou, who didn’t understand her new faraway looks and hazily masked eyes; who wondered what he’d done to lose her attention and affection so easily, and could be often found reveling in his own mangled thoughts on the situation between them. His tireless questioning had been answered with another one of Kagome’s smiles’. Except these smiles were forced, and sad, and so very, very tired.

She didn’t love him.

Those words hummed in her head, eliciting a hollow echo that bounced forward and backward and sideways through the lonely corners of her heart. It was an echo that sent her spinning, as well as laid down the foundations for a dull throbbing headache in her near future. An echo that she couldn’t cease or desist.

...She didn’t love him...?

And the echo shook Kagome to her core… again, and again, and again.