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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐏 𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐒𝐍𝐔𝐆𝐋𝐘 , good . kagome thinks . now she won’t have to worry about anyone spotting his ears out in public ! grabbing his hand , she tugs him forward . ❛ come on inuyasha — — — let’s check out the museum while you’re here ! ❜ | @inuyiasha
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What do you mean rude.
she nearly shoves him away , the space between them deeply needed. kagome huffs, chest out and anger bubbling. how could he be so frustrating! ❝ inuyasha — you wouldn't know good manners — ❞ a stomp of her foot, she steps away from him, already walking in the opposite direction before turning back to continue yelling at him. ❝ if they hit you in the face! you're always so cruel! ❞
@inuyiasha liked for a starter.
sunshine pours in through the never ending forest, illuminating his white hair with an almost angelic glow [ as if. kagome thinks to herself, ignoring the small window of light that makes him look somewhat, kind of, maybe charming. ] thoughts brush to the side as she steps her pace, scrunching her nose — a girl in thought, walking in sunshine, determined. ❝ are you sure you know where we're going? ❞
hands snatch the makeshift map from his hands, rolling her eyes. if you want something done right, best to do it yourself. especially around inuyasha after all . . . [ bright eyes look over the parchment in wonder, perhaps taking it for a second in wonder ] scanning it quickly, a rush of thoughts flood her mind, a rush towards a direction to follow — a feeling in her heart that's telling her to lead the way. ❝ 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 — i think i know the way! ❞ a tug of his robe, an urgency.
it had been a long time since she looked upon him with the same sort of love she had assumed she had held when her heart was still beating – now it was an ugly creature between the pair of them, this hatred and loathing; worse, even, that it was one-sided. of this, she was fervently aware. it could be said that she preferred it, to hold the crueler hand, to be farther from forgiveness, from love, than he might be. it could be said, but it would be a lie, wouldn't it? the expression she wears is a strange distortion of her features, a pain hiding in plain sight in the creases of her frown. the look is not one of hatred, and yet it is. the look is not one of regret, and yet it is. the look is not one of love, and yet it is.
⤳ @inuyiasha, asked: ‹ why are you looking at me like that? ›
the naming of her act sparks a faltering in her grimace, as it smoothes into a stoic and unfeeling stare within moments of his words ringing out. “ you have become ... difficult to read. ” though she remains unmoving, out of her peripheral she takes stock of the faint, warm glow not far off; a fire blazing, the girl and her friends undoubtedly nearby, at rest and at ease with their companionship to make the cruelty of the woods all the easier to handle. “ i can't be sure if you think you belong there. i have to imagine .... even you, can't be so naive to believe something so foolish. ” the words shoot to kill, a sharp edge at every syllable. head leans gently to the side, an inspecting eye cast upon him. he does, doesn't he? he must. she had thought she'd seen him smile the other day; a kind of careless frivolity she can't recall having seen before, herself.
“ be careful. ” these are nearly genuine, these words uttered as a warning. almost sincere. undercut quite quickly as she continues, tone an arrow in and of itself, “ we are not meant to be here. ”
@inuyiasha : ❝ what difference does it make ? ❞ | inuyasha
he sneers, of course inuyasha wouldn't understand. sesshomaru looks upon his younger half brother with resentment, as he stands for everything that sesshomaru cannot understand. how could his father, the great inu daiyōkai pick inuyasha to carry the sword that should be his? how is it that a love of something as temporary as a human is what tore their once great family apart? inuyasha is a mistake. their father made a mistake because he was weak. weak enough to fall for inuyasha's mother, and now his true blood must suffer for it. sesshomaru, the great lord, faces his little brother and cannot understand how inuyasha could be so stubborn. be so unaware. ❝little brother, you are quite foolish. ❞ their fathers tomb echos his voice as sesshomaru stands taller, enough that inuyasha looks to be an insect worth stepping on. ❝ it is all the difference. father made a mistake, clearly. that sword is mine. my birthright, not that of a half-demon parading around with a human. ❞
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" oh please, i've seen FAR WORSE than that cleaning out dojo's litterbox. "
@inuyiasha * ♡
kagome retrieves the arrow, climbing over the hilly tree with ease [sango's training as helped her beyond measure. she's so so much stronger than she was just months ago] & as she turns over the bow away into her pack, she comes face face with him. he's always there, isn't he? everywhere kagome goes, inuyasha is sure to follow. sesshomaru's anger leaves the grass half singed, a brothers' spat that turned so bloody kagome struggled to escape until eventually the demons disappeared. he tells her she's lucky as if it's something as silly as luck that keeps her alive ! it's him. it's him. kagome sees the red of his dress and feels the worries burn away, light as air. like a dream as she'd tell her friends back home. how many times as he saved her life? how many times has she tried to save his... kagome looks at him, truly takes him all in [he's cute, sometimes.] maybe even charming. [in the moonlight, he looks soft. more human than demon. more friend than companion. more hers than kikyo's.] his words drown away in her head, not that she really is paying attention anyway. the joy of the calm, the joy of seeing him again, the joy of feeling her heartbeat with excitement. for a second, things were terrifying. kagome knows better. she knows better than to let fear win, to think about a world where inuyasha is gone — she knows that fear has no place for a girl as brave as her. but she cannot resist it, she cannot hide from the fear. she knows that she should tell him off, that she knows exactly where to aim her arrows, but the only thing she can think of is him : how happy she is that he's alright. it's way she rushes into his arms, tucking her head under his chest. closing her eyes, she just stills. the whole moment stills, just the softness of the wind in the air, the light movement of leaves bristling. the sound of his heart. (proof it exists!) ❝ i'm so glad you're okay, — i was worried — for just a second inuyasha. your brother is scary sometimes. ❞ face tilts uwpard, eyes meeting his and all kagome can think about is how much she never wants to stop seeing those eyes.
meme prompts : ❝ careful where you aim that thing. ❞ | inuyasha to kagome. @inuyiasha
the moment calms, the realization that they're both alright — that they're both living to tell another tale, to fight another adventure — breaks the stillness. she releases him, a step backward. [ now wait just a second — did 𝙝𝙚 tell 𝒉𝒆𝒓 off? ] now that the obligatory thank yous are out of the way, and that kagome has done her duty telling him how she feels — shouldn't he do the same? instead, she's told off for a small grazing arrow that didn't even hit him! kagome scrunches her nose, taking a big step into his face, up close and personal. ❝ excuse me, but did you think i wwuld take the shot if i didn't know FOR CERTAIN that it wouldn't hit you? i told you i know what i'm doing and you never, ever believe me! ❞ she turns away, deciding she's had enough of him for now. how dare he! she holds her backpack close to her shoulder, already marching on forward to where the rest of the group stood watching. ❝ are you just going to stand there? 𝑙𝑒𝑡'𝑠 𝑔𝑜 inuyasha! ❞
⤳ @inuyiasha asked: ‹ you don’t look so good. ›
there's a crack amidst the clay, composure crumbling beneath the surface as she makes ample effort to keep the pieces of herself stuck together – she'd rather her shoulders remain level, a stony resilience. she'd rather a seamless countenance. she'd rather he not be here. "rather" as a word begins to lose much of its meaning the more it's said. her head is low, but she peers up at him from her position, holding tight onto her arm which bends somewhat abnormally; inhuman, almost. were she capable of the feat, it would bleed, but it mocks her, instead, this strange non-wound ... it is a reminder only of her inorganic, false life. a cruel memory. “ are you worried about me? ” her tone is nearly taunting. she begins to straighten herself out but wavers momentarily, before completing her action and allowing her wounded arm to fall to her side. “ it's superficial. i do not require your pity. in fact, i abhor it. ” it is clay, after all, this bag of bones and soil she drags around. she'll be fine.
