Author's Corner

"Send your dreams, where nobody hides.
Give your tears, to the tide.
No time, no time." — Wait, M83

This mini fic was actually inspired by a post my lovely friend Luiza (magical-campanula) made about Inuyasha actually being able to see the development between Sesshoumaru and Kikyo, rather than Kagome. I loved the idea so much I just had to go and write it. I hope you all enjoy!

GIVE YOUR TEARS TO THE TIDE

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Sesshoumaru and Kikyo.

Kikyo and Sesshoumaru.

It sounded weird to Inuyasha whichever way he heard it.

His brother and his former lover.

His former lover and his brother.

He just couldn't seem to wrap his head around it.

It was quite possibly the very subtlest of changes, yet at the same time, it felt like he'd been picked up and thrown into a parallel universe. And what made it even crazier was that no one seemed to notice it but him.

They were practically the opposite of obvious, but somehow he knew. He knew.

He could see it in their faces. In the way that they stood next to each other. In the quick and careful glances they would share which everyone else thought nothing of.

There was a strange connecting string between the two of them.

Inuyasha couldn't understand it.

His brother was hardly a talkative person, and that hadn't changed, but the nature of what he said had. There was a foreign quality to his words that was new to Inuyasha, and he'd almost fallen backwards onto his ass one time when the hard-faced and ever stoic Sesshoumaru cracked what he thought was a joke.

A joke, or an attempt at one at the very least.

From Sesshoumaru.

He was definitely in a parallel universe or something.

But as mad as the changes in his brother were, it was Kikyo that really shone. Where before she had been tight-lipped and expressionless, smiles came easily to her now, and her face carried an element of softness that he hadn't seen since the first time that he met her.

But even back then, there'd been a tension in her eyes.

A hardness in her jaw.

Now . . . gentleness poured from her like a waterfall of honey, yet she still remained as sharp and as clever as she'd always been.

It was downright bizarre.

Kagome, on the other hand, had been delighted by her lighter and more open demeanour, and to make it even weirder, the two had become good friends. If someone would have told him about a year ago that Kikyo and Kagome would eventually become close pals, he would have told them to go to hell. But sure enough . . . here they were.

Of course, Inuyasha wasn't unhappy with this unexpected development. He was thrilled. Why wouldn't he be? But it was what he would call a little bit . . . awkward.

For him, at least.

He was glad they had finally managed to put aside their differences and bury the hatchet, but he couldn't help but feel sort of bitter that he hadn't been able to help them reach this peaceful conclusion. How had Sesshoumaru, with his deep scowls and venomous glares, managed to crack Kikyo open like an egg?

They were two of the coldest people that Inuyasha had ever known, and yet they'd managed to stoke an empire of warmth in each other's lonely, frozen hearts.

Sometimes, when Sesshoumaru must have thought no one was paying attention, Inuyasha saw something pass through his molten suns when he looked at Kikyo.

Longing.

Fierce, undeniable longing.

And he wasn't the only one.

Kikyo looked at Sesshoumaru in a way that Inuyasha simply couldn't describe. It was a look filled with certainty, passion, sorrow and elation. It was like she was bursting from within with every violent spur of emotion, almost as if it was out of her control. And hell, maybe it was . . .

She'd never looked at him like that before.

Before Naraku, even though they had been happy, with every day that passed it felt more and more like an illusion of happiness instead. An idea of a life they could have shared, free from suffering and loneliness and duty. No more than a fanciful dream. Her smiles had always held an element of sadness with him, and their dream had been curt and simple—to live a quiet, undisturbed life as if they were as ordinary as they came.

With him, she'd wanted simply to go to sleep.

When she looked at Sesshoumaru . . . it was like she was waking up.

Every single time, it was like something brighter and stronger was waking up and coming alive inside her, filling her with boundless colour and life. The effect he had on her was never-ending, and Inuyasha often felt startled at the fires he saw crackling between them. Steady and hot, filled with the promise of something taller and greater.

He wondered why he was the only one that could see those endlessly growing flames.

Finally, before Sesshoumaru's group was set to leave for the mountains in search of Naraku, he caved and asked Kikyo.

"Is he good to you?" he blurted out, and she stopped in her tracks to turn back and face him.

Her brows quirked—in a very Sesshoumaruesque way, he thought—and she studied him curiously. He wondered if the question was too bold before she smiled . . . Warmly . . . Tenderly . . . His heart did an involuntary summersault as he thought how uncannily similar she and Kagome looked in that moment.

"Yes," she said. "He is very good to me."

Funnily enough, Inuyasha felt a smile creeping onto his own mouth.

He hadn't doubted it. He sensed that Kikyo would have no problem kicking the Taiyoukai's arrogant and snooty ass if he ever mistreated her, but it was still nice to hear her say it out loud.

"Good," he nodded, ". . . I'm glad."

And something in her eyes made it incredibly clear to him that she was glad too.

Rin's beckoning voice caused her to turn her head in the direction of the retreating party, and a breeze tugged on the ends of her hair. The smile that she gave the little girl settled the jumping of his heart and caused some of the tension to leave his shoulders. His mind wandered back to the days he'd watched her and Kaede from the treetops. Back when Kaede had been as young and full of life as Rin, when they would sing and play together with all the other children that lived in the village.

Sesshoumaru hadn't stopped or turned his head, but there was a sluggishness to his walking pace that suggested he was waiting for her to catch them up. Again, it was subtle, but it was indisputably there.

Kikyo's gaze lingered on his receding silver form for longer than she probably meant it to, and that look had surfaced on her face again.

She must have been oblivious to it in the same way the others all were.

"Take care of yourself, Inuyasha," she said when she turned her head back to him, and he nodded. Then she hurried along the path after her ragtag companions. Even her step had an unbridled spring to it that made her seem younger.

Brighter.

Freer.

And perhaps the subtlest of all, the way she'd said his name had been different. Softer. Lighter. Like all the poison had been cleansed from her heart and she no longer regarded him with heartbreak or anger or hatred. There wasn't even a hint of bitterness in her voice. Only the newness that left him both winded and calmed at the same time. And he thought that maybe . . . just maybe . . .

Kagome's hadn't been the only hatchet that she needed to bury.

Fate worked in funny ways, Inuyasha thought to himself with another crooked smile as he watched her disappear into the horizon with the rest of Sesshoumaru's fellowship. It seemed that good things eventually did come to those who had waited.

And no one had waited longer than him and Kikyo.

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