A Silent Fan

Just a little longer,' she coached herself. The miko was at her wit's end. The labor of love had become more of the former and less of the latter. Soon, the miko would welcome her reappearance.

She loved following her prey. She was sure she wasn't completely undetected – the girl's powers were growing, and the hanyou's senses were easily strong enough to scent or hear her.

She didn't care.

She wasn't addicted. She could stop any time she liked. She just didn't want to.

"I have to go home!"

"Well, I said you can't!"

"I didn't give you a choice!"

"And I ain't givin' you one!"

Ayame ducked; she waited for the rush of air and dust that would accompany the uncouth hanyou's magically-assisted re-acquaintance with the ground. It was enough to make her ears pop, and she hated that feeling as much as she loved the power that sparked from those beads.

And in a moment, she realized that tingling power never touched her.

She peered over the bush again, befuddled to find InuYasha standing, glare wilting, ears shifting backward.

She shifted her glance to Kagome and got her answer. The priestess stood, arms crossed, staring daggers, swords and throwing stars at her erstwhile love. Had Ayame not been raised to lead, she probably would have cowered from the glower, as well.

Instead, she could only applaud quietly… thrilled to the point of tingling – almost as powerful as that accompanying the invocation of the beads – at her obsession's power.


A/N:

Originally posted to LiveJournal on July 17, 2010

Word Count: 250

Prompt: "Clap"