Summary: AU. Inuyasha finally found someone worth commitment, someone great, someone to cherish. The only problem is that she's married... and he didn't know it, until now. IxK. Two-Shot.
Note: Told from Inuyasha's POV off and on, enjoy.
Hello, welcome to whatever this is—life? Of course I'm alive, how would I be able to stand before all these people and give my so-called "motivational" speech otherwise? It's funny to me, looking back now, how I'm standing in front of all these people to tell them how to live their life, how to become more efficient in their work life and perhaps allow some of that good cheer to trickle into their personal life.
Ha, it really is a joke. I have plenty of those to start off my speeches, plenty to brighten the mood, plenty to tell strangers that I chance upon on my journey around Japan, plenty for my endless traveling but, really, the biggest one I have ever come across—the most pathetic, the most ironic, and so much more—stares right back at me each time I look into the mirror. FML—fuck my life—I hear people curse it all day long, through the airport and train stations I frequent, around the hotels I pretty much live in, at the car rental places, everywhere but I've never bothered to mumble it until that moment. I never thought… I really never did, I never thought that applied to me and my fine life. I thought I was happy. I thought I had everything I wanted. I thought I knew what I was meant to do. I thought…
Or is that the problem? Did I just never really think? Classic me, I suppose.
Now, here I am, like a deer in the headlights as I stand behind this pristine post staring out the largest room I have ever spoke to, the most people that ever wanted to hear what I had to say, the greatest achievement of my life—at least, it should be. Yet, the man that usually had something to say always—sometimes I have something witty, sometimes not so much, but there was always something—now had nothing.
Look what you did, you shattered my world. Congratulations, I hope you are proud of yourself. I don't even know if I want to do this anymore.
Was I wrong all along? You told me once, beautiful, 'fuck your philosophy' the thing I preached. Do you know what I want to say to you now? Burn, bitch, burn.
But, hey, in the end you get the last laugh, don't you?
"I would not have guessed scotch," he began from the luxury armchair just a mere meter away, his yellow watch washed over the salutary seductress that sat with her legs crossed and body turned away from the bar, her ginger gaze glancing about her blackberry with boredom. It took only a moment before a faint smile slid up her glossy lips before that gaze glimpsed over to the slick silver haired man that had one of his legs folded over his other, his hand limply around his near empty glass.
"No?" She whispered back with such a spicy lull that it almost made his shiver—he hadn't guessed such a sensational voice, either. It was a good sign, he knew, that she let her blackberry slip slightly in her grasp to flip screen down, towards the ground, with a tilt of her head her luscious locks that were loosely held up in a bun cascade over her left shoulder, "what would you have guessed?"
He sucked in some air sharply as he tilted his head, his eyes wondered around her freely then—because he knew that was what her question beckoned for—oh, it was divine how she bit her bottom lip as her slender fingers fiddled around with her phone all the while. "I got, sex on the beach."
Right away, she lunged forward and burst into laughter. He, too, chuckled as he got up from his chair to go sit on the open stool beside her, "white Russian?"
"Oh, my," she sighed after she found a way to stop, "you are so perceptive."
"Aren't I?" He jested back, "I'm Inuyasha."
"Inuyasha?" She hummed while she folded her arms upon the bar counter and lifted her shoulder that was closed to him up a bit, "that's a strange name."
"I had pretty strange parents," he winked back, their eyes locked right then—it was as if the barren hotel bar wasn't there anymore, it was the two of them.
Many of the filled rows held faces that stared at me with a blank or bored expression while coughs echoed about like a cricket would to remind me of how silent everything was. Everyone was waiting for me to start my inspirational dialogue like I was meant to five minutes ago. I could barely see most because of the glare from the lights onto the stage. A hushed whisper from the other side of the stage encouraged me to start but… why?
That night was grand; we mingled mystically all about my hotel room--everywhere but the bed, too. We got along so well, so flawlessly, like she was my soul mate, my female counterpart. We laughed that night, we talked about our jobs—she traveled half as much as I did, which is really saying a lot since I'm away from the place that I supposedly designated as 'home' about 342.5 out of 365 days of the year. Yeah, I know, that sounds crazy, right? But I love it. Well, I loved it.
As I stand up here with my hands meekly grasping the post before me, I pretend like I like people, I pretend like I'm a good person, but that's all it is pretend. I don't like people, I don't like to get to know them more than faint friendship, and I don't like lingering attachments so traveling around meant I only have to deal with a few people on a regular basis and flinging through, well, flings with the majority of other people. It used to be brilliant to me. I used to love it. I used to think I wanted to continue on my life like that forever, never settle down, never marry, never have kids, and…
You came along, you, Miss. I'm Perfect, and you ruined it for me. I wanted to be more than just our casual thing we became so steadily. We compared schedules, we exchanged numbers, we called and texted whenever we were bored, we checked in on each other whenever we thought—by chance—we might be close enough to screw around.
I fell… for her.
"Oh, my," she whispered against his skin before she pressed her lips down upon his shoulder, her finger tips sliding down his spine all the while. "Can't you motivate me into getting up in time for my train tomorrow?"
He liked how she could taunt him like that, her wit was charming, so a smirk slipped into place as he turned his head to see the nude siren that still shined with such beauty even so late into the night, even with just the shine of the city light through the barely opened window, even with the glimmer of sweat upon her. "Maybe, but I'd have to be inclined to do that myself. I can't say I'd want you to leave."
Another small, sincere, sensual laugh left her lips as she rolled onto her back, "we got lucky lately, huh? Two 'encounters'," that's what they called it, "in one week."
"Japan's just not as big as one might think," he shrugged while he moved onto his side so he could run his finger tips down her toned stomach, "I really like you."
Her smile never faltered as she turned her head to look at him, "I like you, too." Like a pro she changed the subject without flinching, "your speeches all seem to emphasize detachment, darling, like… you want the people to learn how to be able to let go of their personal life to dig into their working one. That… you can find happiness and complete fulfillment in working, do you believe that?"
"Oh," he grinned as he leaned down to brush his lips against hers, "I let you sit in on a few of them and you are an expert, huh?"
"Uh-huh," she whispered while her fingers tangled in his short, silver strands to pull him back down, lips to lips, nibbles here and there, hot breaths blending, "well," her zesty zinger of a voice kept up, "am I right? Do you really feel that way?"
"Feel what way?" he panted as he tangled his legs with hers and pulled her to him.
"Not that," she joked while her ginger gaze glanced down his body, "do you feel it's better not to form attachments? Are you happy with have no other life than your work? Do you really not want to form a family?"
That stopped him for a while before she leaned up to press their lips together once more, "I used to…"
"Oh?" But then she didn't let him finish before she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a new position to start all over again.
I took a breath, a rather deep one, I didn't know that the mic that was hocked to my fine designer suit would catch that and let it echo about the stilled room. Finally, finally, I started.
"How many of you here hate your job?" I questioned, "how many of you hate your social life? How many hate both?"
Currently, I'm all of the above, I watched a few nods and glances around, apparently I'm not alone—that's always supposed to be reassuring, I hear.
"I'm not here today to help you on the latter," I promised, "you know what they say, talk about what you know and I couldn't give good advice when it comes to a social life, I have plenty of problems in that area as it is," I admitted with what I've been told is a very charismatic smile, winning a few laughs and more grins, "but I'm told I'm pretty good when it comes to helping you with your work."
Before, that's all I had to think about, before her, because I liked my job then. I'll pretend you never came into my life, I'll pretend that everything is hunky-dory, I'll pretend because that's what I'm good at… I thought, really, for once I didn't need to anymore. I thought I made a real connection, I thought… we…
Kyoto, her home, his was Tokyo, but somewhere along the year and a half affair they had exchanged—by mistake, he supposed—their addresses. She had stopped by his bland, rather empty, apartment twice when she had business in Tokyo. He remembered how she frowned when she saw it, laughed a bit, and said he needed a woman's touch and to paint his white walls. Was it wrong that he mistook that as a hint towards something? A hint towards what she wanted them to become? Really, he didn't think so. It wasn't until a few months after that that he was heading from Osaka to Otsu; he had to pass through Kyoto so why not stop? Why not venture to the pretty home of hers? Why was he not surprised to see it so well kept?
He had a smile upon his lips as he walked up to the door and rang the bell; it took only a little time before she opened the door. Her usually confident, grand, gingers widened as if the world was about to end, her breath ended, she just stared. He almost said something before he heard the pitter-patter of small feet then saw a child speed by behind her and laugh as he headed upstairs, calling for his father to follow.
That was it; he shook his head and took a step back before heading away. She just closed the door without a word.
She… had not just a husband but at least a child, too? He'd never felt so stung in all his life. If she had never entered it, if she had just discarded his advance that night at the hotel bar, then everything would be fine, he wouldn't have thought anything was missing in his life. He wouldn't have thought he was spouting shit while he gave out speeches. He wouldn't have thought… 'what if' always.
But... was it really 'the end'?
A/N: So... is it Kikyou or is it Kagome? It's a guessing game, enjoy. I have a rather definite idea, personally, but I'm not so sure how I'll go about the second and final chapter. I'll just wait and see what the reaction is to the first.
Thanks for reading, please review, and I hope you enjoy.