Disclaimer:

Inu Yasha is not mine, and it will never be. But one can dream, can't I?

A Blue Cry

I have brushed my hair till it was shining, I have put on my blue dress - the one that you love - and I have crossed the well to fill my eyes with the light that makes its way through the trees and leaves two golden points in my eyes - much like yours. Because I am going to see you.

Because I am going to see you even though I know is to say good-bye, to let you hold my hands tight and talk about the love that has grown between us, but it isn't a beautiful tree that gives violet flowers, it is instead a dark hydra, that doesn't know about flowers.

I know everything that is going to happen.

A blue cry will roll through my cheek.

You'll name her to feel less guilty. You'll talk about her, about her years of fervour and handing over, about the quiet walls of your home, shaken from the passion that you share with her.

Is your guilty you that is telling me that, after you made me dream, after travelling in your arms through a sea of angels and suffocated giggles because of your kisses and winds of fire burning us in a ceremony of passion and shudder. When you told me you weren't free, I was already in love with you, and you already liked me. I felt the universe go empty and that I was swallow by earthquakes; that I was sinking trying to find where to put my feet.

"But I like you," you said.

And the earth came back under my feet, the earthquakes disappeared, everything went back to normal.

Only a grey patina watching over the universe was left of that total jolt.

A grey patina over my life, over my body, darkening, pushing my movements until turn them in slow expressions of an automaton.

"But I like you"

I hanged from those four words in order not to die.

So, the anxiety of our meetings started.

You started to name her more, to describe her for me, so I could know her colours, her actions, her way of thinking.

So different from me. So different from you, and however having you. Because you didn't know - didn't know yet - that it was her who had you and not me.

And I started to notice - without wanting - I started to notice day after day and I started to hide it from you, afraid that you would find out.

While you didn't know, you would make a place for me in your mind and heart, and you would keep thinking that I was your life, that I was the light that make you go on, your oasis.

Ti was selfish, stubborn, obstinate; I was cutting you with the sharp knife of possession.

When does the tree discover that his truth is the root and not the free branches that close him to the sky?

When will you realise that?

A few more weeks and it happened.

It was the inevitable, what I waited with fear.

You told me with a sad voice, but firm.

"I have to talk to you, one last time..."

"Ok..."

"Tomorrow, Kagome; tomorrow at three o' clock."

And today is tomorrow.

A blue cry will roll through my cheek the moment of goodbye. A blue cry will roll through your cheek the moment of truth.

So, why this eagerness of liking you, this crossing of the well to fill myself of light and new greens, this looking to my watch waiting the meeting hour, if I know that it will be our last meeting and never again, never, never more will I ever see you, will I ever hug you?

Have I gone crazy suddenly?

I am going to die a bit and I make myself up.

I am going to the burial of my light and I illuminate myself.

I am going to the martyr and I laugh.

I put sugar in the coffee, I feel it bitter.

I shudder, I love you.

I am going to send you towards a torture.

I am going to do something for the love that push me to the limit of your oblivion.

I call the waiter and pay my tea.

I run away. Run away from this place and from the meeting.

You will wait for me in vain. You will not see my wet eyes. You will not have to tell my your goodbye speech.

I will close the well.

You see, I am making it easier for you. I avoid you from being my murderer.

It is not just an act of boldness; is a way of believing that a blue cry would have rolled through your cheek the moment of our goodbye.

A blue cry for me.

A blue cry.

Because if I go and you are serene and firm, if I go and your eyes stay drought, it will be my true death, the total death, definitive.

Instead, like this..., I can fill with blue this memory.

With a blue cry, a blue cry for me.

Author's Notes:

Review please? I know is angst but... review, please? I will be really grateful.