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Buh-bump...
Pain.
Buh-bump...
Anger.
Buh-bump...
Despair.
Buh-bump...
Fear.
Buh-bump...
Disgust.
Buh-bump...
Sorrow.
Buh-bump...
Grief....
No. Don't. You can't. I forbid it. NO. I won't allow it. I promised. I was a fool. I will not fail again. I can't...
He was suffering.
Good, he deserved to suffer. He deserved to suffocate, to drown, to be impaled, to feel every torturous stab repeatedly piercing his already hemorrhaging heart. The misery was still not enough to absolve his sins. Nothing ever could. Nothing could ever repay the cost of that which he inadvertently sacrificed. Nothing would ever be worthy. Nothing.
Buh-bump...
Righteousness.
Buh-bump...
Divinity.
Buh-bump...
Sanctuary.
Buh-bump...
He was undeserving of its grace.
Buh-bump...
Each beat sustains his survival.
Buh-bump...
The only thing keeping his spirit from succumbing to its rightful damnation into eternal persecution.
Buh-bump...
He vowed he would never cease his worship of that sound.
Buh-bump...
I will do anything.
Buh-bump...
Please.
Buh-bump...
Don't…
Sleek eyelashes feathered across velvet cheeks, caressing that which he dared not. The sight of her lying there, eyes closed, was so similar to the image that would besiege him forever that he could scarcely overcome the urge to scream in agony. Roaring his perennial despair into the night would still be but an insignificant diaphanous whisper to the depth of his torment. The benevolent beating denied substantiation of horrors unspeakable. Horrors that were very nearly inexorably actual. He would never forgive himself.
Gazing upon her features, their simplicity betrayed the majesty of their enchantment, as if attempting to conceal the truth, one that would never be tergiversated again...
She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in the whole of his existence.
His eyes could not help but linger on the subtle pink of her rounded lips, measuring each breath passing through. His heart began to race as an excruciating pain throbbed at a disenable degree. The fear of one day never being tantalized by the radiance of her smile threatened abolition.
NO!
It will not be. It will never be. Her light will never fade. The bell of her delighted laughter will always chime. The spell of her endless brown eyes will bewitch his soul for eternity, infinitely wielding their mystical power of conquest and consolation. He will not let it be. He will never let her go.
Except he did.
He lost her.
He failed.
He could not save her and without her... If her light was no longer there... What was the point? What was the reason for all that had been endeared? What was the point of anything? Even with all the power of the Universe, without her... There would be nothing. He would be nothing. As nonsensical as that notion posed, its truth was as inexplicable as it was irreversible. His entire existence was bound beyond the confines of logic. The only proof that he possessed a soul was the excruciating lacerations irreversibly branded thereupon after suffering the separation from hers.
He proved what he secretly feared: He was unworthy—unworthy of her brilliance, warmth, generosity, serenity, admiration, faith, and trust.
His pride and disillusionment blinded him to his limitations, arrogantly disgracing the fragility of her ethereal presence by his side. The purity of their connection, the depth in which her soul yearned as equally as his, the absolute belonging they had found, deluded him into believing nothing could sever that which was unequivocal. She was his, just as he was hers. He would never let her go, and so she never would. He had claimed her soul. It could never be taken from him. His moronic ignorance nearly destroyed them both…
The boy's voice would not cease bellowing in his ears...
"Rin isn't breathing..."
Ahhh!
Pain… anger… despair… fear… revulsion… sorrow… grief...
Rin ... please...
The light of his universe perforated the abyss of his anguish.
Two sleepy eyes opened, instantly clearing to complete awareness as they locked intimately with his searing stare. Solace seeped into his wretched heart, cradling the devastated organ with a tenderness that could only come from the balm of her Elysian essence. He was ignoble of her comfort. It was abhorrent that after his iniquity, his soul still savagely sought her soothing waters, parched as it was by a thirst only she could quench. It should be him kneeling before the benevolence of her being, offering all that he was within his power to attain, anything at all, in repentance for his defalcation.
How could he be such an ignoramus? How could he be so weak? How could he allow his selfishness to covet the peace her spirit brought him in exchange for the defilement of her protection? How could the fear of emptiness returning rationalize significance over the sanctity of her safety? How did basking daily in her incandescence evolve into complacency? He literally flaunted her before the Netherworld's avaricious threshold! He was a cur. An egotistical hound that had nearly let that which was most exquisite, seraphic, precious slip through his fingers, consequentially ripping away the quintessence of his existence. He had never felt such shame.
And yet, even now, he did not display the justified dignity of averting his eyes but drank in every aspect of her beauteous virtue. He truly was weak, powerless to vanquish the need that was the very cause of his destruction. More potent than any lust for power, worth more than any fang vouchsafed as per his birthright. This need was irrefutably intrinsic to the core of his being. He could not overcome it. He could not fight it. It was incontestable in its infinity. He needed her.
Rin … please … don’t …
His eyes desperately tracked the subtle rise of her head, her torso following, hoisted by the support of a delicate hand bracing the ground. She stilled in this position between her original laying and properly sitting up. Eyes glittering with the flares of magic, her gaze penetrated with the potency of her supremacy, once again seeing all. Seeing all of him. He wished he could hide, shield her from the hideousness of his incompetence, his infirmity. For once, he rued being the recipient of her mystical gaze, knowing that which she would find could only inspire detestation…
Pain… despair… fear… sorrow… grief…
The realization that she would never see him again as she once did, never look at him as if he were invincible, believe in his ascendancy, trust in his prowess, find him fascinating, think him beautiful … hurt. Ahhh!
He can't… No... it hurts … please …
With the otherworldly elegance of a sprite, she ascended silently, undisruptive to the still slumbering human and yōkai huddled around the dwindling embers of their fire. Anticipation of the irreparable devastation her scorn would elicit was torturous, but like the masochist that he was, nothing could steal his focus away from the nymph determinedly stalking towards him. She did not cease in her adamant advance until the burn of her proximity made all else disappear. Her entrancing eyes tunneled his vision. Her sweet breath fanned his face, tingling his trembling lips.
She was everywhere. She was everything. His soul could not resist her siren call.
She who had prevented him from forever wandering a meaningless existence. She, who gave him reason, motivation, gifting his first real sense of clarity. She, who ignited his fascination, shocking him out of his monotony with her incomprehensible intrigue. She lit the flames scorching his veins, revealing that he did indeed feel and that he was not insensate. He could burn. He could hurt. He was alive. She made him alive. She was the light in the eternal darkness of his self-destined misery, promising the potential of a fate woven as one of purpose instead. She set him free. She bound him everlastingly. She was his despair. She was his hope. She was his eradication. She was his salvation.
When his self-loathing could no longer withstand the closeness of her mystique, the universe exploded as he was enveloped in her embrace.
The thunderbolt of her glorious attack paralyzed him, senses overloaded with the sensation of all of her encasing him. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, fingers threading his silver locks as if their nimbleness were designed solely to do so. Her thundering heartbeat bypassed the rigidity of his armor, its pounding resonating within him as if the barricade between their pressed chests did not exist. The slight brush of bare skin, exposed by the hem of her kimono, upon his obi teased the fabric's felicitousness. Her hasty ensnare placed her unbridled feet upon Mokomoko, which rested alongside his hip, now delightedly roused by dainty toes petting its possessive fur.
Sesshōmaru's body was satirically stunned as his senses scrambled, deliriously trying to discern the most startling of the simultaneous sensations. If survival beyond this inimitable moment were possible, recognition of the irony of his nose winning out would have been permissible. Percipience faded away as he succumbed to the stimulus of her scent. He was consumed by it. Her essence saturated his air as fragrant raven tresses smothered his nostrils, tickling down past his mouth and chin...
The honey crispness of morning dew … sun-kissed floral sweetness… ambrosial equanimity… Home…
Rin.
Paradise... peace... palliation…
He deserved none of it.
His conscience raged against his body, ferociously battling against the sublimity of her touch, sickened by the injustice of its benefaction. Physically shaking with strain, the great DaiYōkai summoned all his strength, militantly striving to command his body to push her away. She pressed closer still.
'It's okay. Everything is okay now. I'm right here.'
Warmth.
The golden glow of their bond flooded her assurance, intoxicating in its exoneration. He couldn't… he mustn't… he was unfit to receive such compassion.
'It's alright… I'm alright… Let me in… Please.'
Her plea broke him. All resistance shattered as her light preponderated affirmation, transcending all suffering, his soul surrendered to its sovereign.
'Rin…'
With all the desperation that had poisoned his blood since the moment he realized she was lost to him forever, his body engulfed hers, crushing her slight frame to his own in supplication that they would never be separated again. He held her as tightly as he dared, terrified he might fracture the fragile delicacy in arm, needing it more than he would ever comprehend. His heart could no longer withhold its cry; the euphoric feel of having her here, safe, alive, perfect, magnified the fear of losing her exponentially.
'Forgive me.'
"Sesshōmaru-sama..."
Her stunned whisper sent a scorching shiver through his whole body as his breathed name caused her lips to brush the tip of his pointed ear. Something primal awoke, demanding he promulgate his eternal fidelity. Instinctively, he pulled her in closer. The connection of their bond blazed, relishing the radiating pulses of their souls intertwining. Time evaporated as they surrendered to the preeminence of their immersed sensations…
Reverence… humility… acceptance... forgiveness... adoration.
Too soon, he felt her shift. He reluctantly slackened his grasp, allowing her freedom of movement while preserving her proffered nearness. Graciously, she did not mean to take her warmth away but wished to entrance him further with the penetration of her wondrous eyes.
There was nothing within him that desired to fight that which was true, that which her eyes made resolutely clear, that which he would never deny again.
All that he was belonged to her.
A wave of shame crashed back as the image of her beautiful eyes remaining closed despite the severity of his call plunged him once more into darkness. He failed her. He desecrated the trust of her fealty. He did not protect that which he held most dear. He let her be stolen away… he lost her… no… he can't… please… don't...
'Sesshōmaru-sama, look at me; I'm right here! You did not lose me. You can never lose that which is yours. That will always be yours.'
Thousands of refutes caught on the tip of his tongue, ready to assault her omitting sanction, but he was instantly stilled. The fiery caress of her hands, gently cupping his face, commanded placidity, her eyes berating his attempted interruption.
'I will never regret my choice to follow you, for it is mine. I would have it no other way. Even if I were to perish this instant, I would be at peace knowing I was where I belonged. My soul is yours and always will be. I know you, Sesshōmaru-sama; I can feel you... Can you feel me?'
Despite possessing inherent certainty of his reply, her eyes demanded he answer her inquiry. He adhered with complete honesty.
'Yes, I can feel you.'
The resplendence of her smile cleansed the sinister currents of his defeatism, repairing each shredded tear of his soul with her luminous altruism. His eyes feverishly widened as the loveliness of her face suddenly drew in closer. His breath helplessly caught at the feel of her forehead gently resting against his own. A tingling pulse passed between them the moment her skin made contact with his emblemed blue crescent. With a slight contented hum, she slowly closed her eyes.
Beauty… tranquility… exaltation… devotion.
'See... This is enough. I feel you as you feel me. I see you, and you are even more beautiful to me now than you always have been. I am the only one who can determine what breaks or deserves my trust, where my faith, where my hope lies. Sesshōmaru-sama, I know you, and I trust you. Feeling your heart is a gift, one I may never understand why I was blessed to receive, but I vow to cherish it always. Just being with you makes me so happy... This is more than enough.'
In the hands of the human whose existence defied reason and contested everything that he had built his life upon, contradicting all that he knew to be true, the DaiYōkai closed his eyes in surrender.
He felt it.
It was fierce, it was kind, it was infinite, it was singular, it was powerful, it was gentle, it was exquisite, it was humble, and it was now his strength, everlastingly. He let its profound predominance overwhelm all he was, all he used to be, and all he would be evermore.
For once, there was no fear.
He would trust it, for it was solely born from her astounding grace. As she placed her trust in him, he would honor her by bestowing all of his. He let its glow fortify that which tethered their hearts, returning her warmth with the mighty fire she had ineffably kindled.
Her astonished gasp effectively set his gaze upon her dazzling elegance. His eyes unabashedly devoured the beauty before him, meticulously memorizing each stunning facet discernible at this privileged closeness. Her eyes tenderly opened, and there he saw all that he felt for her, all that his soul accepted, all that his heart longed for, reflecting back at him.
She was right... It was more than enough.