They met in a subway.
She seemed dressed to impress (though visibly not on purpose), heading south, towards her Buddhist monk friend's party. Her head was filled with voids, she'd worked hard to manage such a feat. The ultimate goal was not to feel anymore, because feelings left scars that wouldn't heal and she wouldn't have that. What she had was her dignity, but at times she lost even that.
He was just there, simply relishing her curves, eyes glued to the way her body swayed just slightly with the speed of the subway. Teasingly, he made quite a few lewd comments about her long legs, her fab heels, but she ignored him.
A couple of blocks away from Miroku's she tripped, but thought nothing of it. She just hadn't been paying attention, she told herself. At the party she had her few drinks, avoided her regular admirers, held back from mingling. She was unreachable, unapproachable. That porcelain doll you keep on the uppermost shelf so you won't accidentally knock it down. The one you stare at for a long time, but never touch.
On her way back home she was aware she was swaying. Maybe this once she'd had one shot too many or maybe it was the exhaustion. She tripped again, knowing it was the alcohol, the dizziness; she was so lightheaded. This time she didn't care anymore; the liquor had dissolved such reserves.
He was right in front of her, the stranger from before. He was beautiful in a distant way, she noticed suddenly despite the haziness – or was it because of that? He expressed his annoyance with her through a simple scrunching of the nose and she said nothing. They passed each other by wordlessly, without a clue.
For them, there would be no other chance in this lifetime.
WARNING: the series will have some heartbreaking chapters. This is the only warning you'll get, so don't skip it :)
einehexe's heartfelt words: I deeply apologize for lingering in the shadows for so long, but it's been really hectic around here, meaning I've done some struggling with myself and now I'm trying to reorganize everything in my life (you know how hard that is, don't you?) First of all I'd like to thank and also apologize to Kinky-Hoe, Desenchanter, Say0mi Saki and purduepup (I owe you big). Honestly, I'm such a freak; it's as if something inside me has been blocking me from writing or replying to reviews and from doing a lot of other stuff, too (well, time has been a major dick, too, but I shouldn't try to find excuses)
anyway, this series has been written on my cell phone in a park on many walks listening to Grenade by Bruno Mars (yes, listening to only one song over and over), because I needed it. I needed something that would encompass everything - the good and the bad, miracles and tragedy. I don't care if this has been done before. Yes, I am aware that every chapter is a small cliché in itself, but it just came from within. I'm not going to question it, and I'm certainly not going to respond to people claiming I copied their ideas (I'm sure there are thousands of similar stories out there; I know even I read some), but this baby belongs to me and that's how it's going to stay.
... you know what? I might reconsider my previous decision of completely leaving Inuyasha fandom.