Drabbletastic

Rahmakapala and Chie's weekly drabble challenge. We give each other prompts and strive to write short fics in return. More about us Chie on FF.net & AO3. Rahmakapala on FF.net & AO3.

[drabblers]

For Chie

Prompt: good news

[drabblers]

A Moment of Peace

Prompt: Sensitive Fandom: Inuyasha Characters: Kagome, Sesshoumaru’s Mother Setting: All human AU; Continues Late Night Musings 1,008 Words

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The next day dawned bright. Despite her trouble falling asleep the night before and the morose thoughts that had plagued her in those dark late night hours, Kagome woke up well-rested and ready to face the new day. Whatever challenges it might bring, she was sure she could persevere.

She’d barely got up when there was a knock at the door. Kagome beckoned them to come in. A servant slid the door open and bowed to her in the doorway, before picking up the breakfast tray and stepping into the room.

This was becoming a habit now, Kagome mused, sitting down to eat her breakfast while the servant carefully set aside the futon and the quilts.

“Is there anything else that you need, honoured guest?” the servant paused to ask.

“Ah, yes, actually.” Kagome smiled. “I was wondering if I might be able to take a bath?”

“Certainly. We’ll have the bath house readied. I’ll be back to get you and show you the way.”

“That is very kind of you. Thank you.”

The servant bowed again and left. Kagome went back to her breakfast.

It was tasty and filling. The breakfast was one of her favourite things about her stay here, Kagome decided. Not having to worry about food or make do with what provisions she could carry was definitely one perk of being the guest of the Nishikawa clan.

She’d just finished up the last of her tea when the servant returned.

“Are you ready, honoured guest?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Kagome got up and crossed the room. Then she followed the servant down the corridors until, finally, they stepped through a side door. There, across the small enclosed garden, Kagome saw the bath house.

“Do you need assistance?” the servant asked.

Kagome offered them a smile. “No, you’ve helped me plenty. I’ll manage from here, thank you.”

Kagome crossed the garden and entered the bath house. She hummed to herself as she undressed, carefully folding the clothes as she set them aside. She washed herself thoroughly, scrubbing away until her skin shone pink. Then, with a contented sigh, she sank into the hot bath.

The tension slipped away from her shoulders. Her eyes fell shut, her lips curving in a smile. Her muscles eased and relaxed, lulled by the water’s comforting embrace. The heat soothed her sensitive skin. Kagome basked in the warmth for a long time, drawing out this moment of luxury.

Finally, and not without some reluctance, she climbed out of the bath, dried herself and donned her clothes again. She returned to her room – only almost losing her way once after taking the wrong turn in the corridor. Back in the safety of her own quarters, she sat out on the little walkway, enjoying the sunshine and looking out into the garden as she combed through her wet hair. She was perfectly tranquil, almost in a meditative state. The most comfortable she’d yet been during her visit with the Nishikawa clan.

And then, for the third time that day, there was a rap at the door.

The servant again, Kagome thought, calling them to enter. For one traitorous second, her mind flickered to Lord Nishikawa, recalling his surprise visit to her quarters the previous day.

But it was neither s servant or Lord Nishikawa who swept into the room as the door slid open.

Kagome dropped her comb and scrambled into a deep bow, damp tendrils of her hair brushing the polished wooden floor.

"Yes, yes, very good, please raise your head," came the voice, both feminine and imperious. A feat mastered by the women of the upper class – when it didn't suit their need to appear demure.

Kagome straightened, her spine stiff with trepidation as she looked up at Lady Nishikawa.

She was smiling, the curl of the lip knowing.

"You truly are so well-mannered," she praised.

"Thank you, my lady."

"A very pleasant day out, is it not?" Lady Nishikawa said as she crossed the room to join Kagome on the walkway overlooking the garden. "I can see why you would prefer to sit out here."

"Yes, I thought I'd enjoy a bit of sunlight," Kagome replied, her fingers clenched in her lap.

"Ahh, speaking of enjoyment." Lady Nishikawa waved her hand and a servant Kagome hadn’t noticed before stepped forward.

"I thought you might need something to help pass the time so I've brought you a collection of poetry. I also asked a few more fresh sets of clothing to be provided for you."

Even as Kagome gaped, the servant laid down a poetry book and a set of clothes. With a bow, they then left the room.

"Thank you, my lady. You are very kind."

"Just looking after our precious guest,” Lady Nishikawa said, dismissing the courtesy. “How did you find our bath facilities?”

“They were excellent. I was tempted to stay in for the rest of the day,” Kagome replied truthfully.

Lady Nishikawa laughed. “I understand that need for peace and quiet. There’s nothing as relaxing as a nice bath.” Lady Nishikawa’s eyes sparked, the corner of her lips curled. “Well… almost nothing.”

Kagome shifted, discomfited by that gleam in her eye and turned to look at the garden.

“You will be teaching little Rin archery, then?” The Lady asked, after a moment of tense silence.

“Yes. It was what Rin-hime requested."

"I am glad to hear it. A lady should know her way around a weapon," Lady Nishikawa opined.

A lady had various kinds of weaponry at her disposal, Kagome mused, slanting a glance at Lady Nishikawa. The courteous manner, the sharp wit, those pale, piercing eyes that seemed to miss nothing.

Kagome was quite convinced that Lady Nishikawa was the most dangerous person under the Nishikawa roof.

"It's always good to know how to defend oneself," Kagome murmured her assent.

Lady Nishikawa nodded. “Quite right.”

The silence, for a brief moment, was almost comfortable.

Then, Kagome found herself the recipient of Lady Nishikawa’s level stare.

“I'm hoping my son has proven a courteous host?"

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To Be Continued

[drabblers]

A New Day

Prompt: Sunlight Fandom: Bleach Characters: Kurosaki Ichigo, Kuchiki Rukia Setting: Sci-fi AU; Continues Awake     (All instalments under the IR Timetravel AU tag) 1001 Words

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Sunlight tickled Ichigo’s eyelids. He groaned and pulled the pillow over his face, hiding from the unwelcome morning light. He wanted to turn in his bed. Go right back to sleep. But then he remembered the woman in his room.

In the morning stillness, he could hear the soft, even breaths from across the room. She seemed peaceful, at last. Ichigo was glad. He’d spent half his night awake and instead of rested he felt groggy and confused and severely out of his depth. How did one help a time-traveller find their way back home? Where did one even start?

They needed to have a long talk, sometime soon. Try to figure out if she had any idea what had happened; if there were any clues as to how she’d managed to slip through time. But one thing was for sure – Kuchiki Rukia would be staying at Ichigo’s apartment for quite a while. Which meant he’d need to get used to sharing his space. Ichigo scowled at his ceiling. He also needed to go shopping. Rukia would need clothes. They’d need more food.

The thought of food had Ichigo’s stomach stir with a rumble and with some reluctance, he rolled out of bed. He crossed the room in silent feet, running a hand through his sleep-messed hair. He wandered into the kitchenette and put the coffeemaker on. Exhaustion weighed on his sluggish brain and he rubbed his hand across his face. For a moment, Ichigo simply stood in front of his fridge, drawing a blank. Then, his stomach rumbled, jolting him into action. 

Ichigo rummaged through the cupboards, trying to keep his movements slow, careful and most of all quiet, so he wouldn’t disturb his houseguest. He made toast. Boiled water for tea. Sliced a couple of apples. And all the while his thoughts whirled around Kuchiki Rukia.

She was lost – and not only in the physical sense of the word. It showed in her demeanour. Shone in the dark depths of her violet eyes, like two bruises. It pulled at his heartstrings until his chest ached. Ichigo wanted to help her to acclimate herself, how to navigate this new world that to her was so strange and different.

Ichigo tried to imagine being suddenly and inexplicably stranded in the warring states period. Probably, he would not last very long. Rukia was made of sterner stuff than he was.

Ichigo was setting the table when the soft pad of feet alerted him. He looked up to see Rukia stand a few yards away, wearing his hoodie and clutching her sheathed sword. 

“Good morning,” he told her, pouring himself a big cup of coffee. He almost asked her if she had slept well, but thought better of it. He doubted either of them had got enough sleep last night.

“Good timing,” he said instead. “Just got the breakfast ready.”

“Good morning,” she answered, her voice soft.

Even with the sword she kept holding onto, the picture she presented now was miles away from a samurai warrior. He really needed to get her some proper clothes, as his own threatened to swallow her whole. 

She sat at the table and reached for the tea he’d poured her. Ichigo sat down and hit the coffee. 

They ate in silence, stealing glances at one another across the table. The morning seemed to highlight the awkwardness of their situation and the sleepless night had done them no favours. Ichigo was on his second cup of coffee, watching Rukia niggle at her toast, when he finally broke the stretching silence.

“I need to go out today. Get us some things and food and the like.”

Rukia put down the toast and nodded slowly. 

“Will you be all right on your own? I mean – you can come with if you want but I figured you’d be more comfortable staying here.”

“Yes, I would rather stay here,” Rukia agreed. “I think a moment of solitude will be welcome.”

Ichigo nodded. He could understand that well enough. Going out alone would do him well, too.

Ichigo felt marginally calmer and a whole lot better after his two cups of coffee. The awkwardness had abated with their short conversation and they finished the rest of their breakfast in peace, though Ichigo scowled at Rukia’s eating habits. He couldn’t blame her for not having much of an appetite, but small as she was, she really should eat more. He’d have to get something tasty today from the supermarket. Buy all kinds of snacks for her to try.

After breakfast, he cleared the table. Rukia insisted to help. She told him that guest or not, she ought to contribute in some way and not just sit there and be catered to. It took some getting used to and a couple of times of accidentally bumping to one another before they got the hang of it, navigating the small confines of the kitchenette together. 

Perhaps, over time, they would find that rhythm in other areas as well, unlock that secret for coexisting. Ichigo hoped they would.

Ichigo went to the bathroom to change his clothes, was ready to get going and almost out of the front door when he stopped. He’d been so busy running over the shopping list in his mind that he’d forgotten to consider Rukia. 

He came back and gave her a tour of his small apartment. He showed her how to work the electric kettle and the microwave in the kitchenette and encouraged her to explore the cupboards and the fridge to find whatever she might need. He showed her the bathroom and tried not to squirm while explaining how the toilet worked. He showed her his comic book collection and old hand-held gaming console, in case she’d want something to help pass the time. 

It didn’t feel like it was enough, but it was all he could do for her for now. 

For a moment, Ichigo lingered in the doorway. Then, swallowing a sigh, he left.

To Be Continued.

[drabblers]

The Crutch

Prompt: Crutch Fandom: Harry Potter Characters: James Potter, Lily Evans Setting: Canon, Summer before 7th Year in Hogwarts 1,087 Words

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Outside the sun was shining from the blue sky, and the delighted squeals of sparrows carried inside through the open window with the gentle warm breeze.

A perfect summer's day, one Lily would have loved to spend at a beach with her friends or even out in the garden.

Instead, she was lying on the sofa in the family room, the TV on but ignored as she cursed herself for the umpteenth time.

She'd had so many plans for this summer, so many things she'd wanted to do. And now, because of one careless moment, she was stuck, the first two weeks of her summer break wasted.

So moping inside it was, and Lily had devoted herself wonderfully to this new pastime. She was getting rather brilliant at it. Throwing wistful glances outside through the window was a real forte. With a little pinch of imagination, she could imagine herself a frail and sickly heroine in some 19th-century romance.

At least today she had the house to herself, with her parents off in London to visit Petunia. She could read a book in peace. Or bake something to cheer herself up. Or maybe even – 

The doorbell rang, rudely interrupting Lily’s plans.

She frowned. No one was supposed to be coming over today, as far as she knew. 

She sat up on the couch, reached for the crutches propped up against the coffee table. She got up with a grunt and hobbled to the entrance hall at a sedate pace.

The doorbell rang again just as Lily was crossing the entrance hall, her ire sparking both towards the mystery visitor and herself. Funny, how you never gave a thought to how easy it was to walk and move around until all of a sudden you couldn’t. It was beyond frustrating that her body simply didn’t work the way she needed it to.

And to add on the delicious irony, Lily probably would be rid of her current predicament with just one flick of her wand. She’d studied up enough on healing on her own to be able to find and execute a charm that would fix her ankle in a split of a second. But she couldn’t really break the Statute of Secrecy and besides, though she was now of age and legally allowed to do so, using magic outside school was just too weird. 

Lily stopped to balance with her crutches and yanked the door open none too gently, her eyebrows already drawn into a scowl.

They flew up in surprise, though, as soon as she saw who was at her doorstep.

All she could manage to stammer out was: “Potter? How? What are you doing here?”

“Hullo, Evans,” James Potter offered, flashing her a crooked, sheepish smile, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans.

Jeans. On James Potter. That was a whole other shock to Lily’s system.

“May I come in?”

“Uhh, sure,” Lily replied. “Let me just…” Supporting herself with the crutches, she made a little backwards hop to get out of the doorway.

James’ eyes grew comically wide as he noticed Lily’s crutches for the first time.

“Evans! Are you all right? What’s going on?”

The sheer alarm in his voice had a smile threatening to bloom on Lily’s lips.

“I’m fine, it’s just a ligament thing. Come in, we’ll talk.”

James closed the door behind him and followed Lily to the sitting room without another word. A quiet James Potter was a rare thing so he really must have been worried. Lily’s heart warmed in spite of herself. 

Lily dropped inelegantly back on the sitting room sofa and set her crutches to lean against the coffee table again. James Potter hesitantly took an armchair.

“So, what brings you here? And how do you even know where I live?” Lily asked. Her earlier irritation was long gone, amusement lurking now in the corner of her eye.

“I got your address from Remus.” James shrugged. “I’m good with maps. Sorry that I came over unannounced, I didn’t really think.”

“James Potter, acting without thinking?” The smile overtook Lily in earnest now. “What a shock!”

“I know, it’s very out of character for me,” James replied, flashing a grin. “I just really needed to leave the house before I started losing my mind.”

Lily laughed. “Sirius?”

“Sirius,” James echoed, nodding emphatically. “He’s decided he wants his own place. The house hunting drama is driving me bonkers.”

“I can only imagine. And I can totally understand that you wanted to escape somewhere sane.”

“That’s why I thought of you,” James said, hazel eyes twinkling behind his glasses.

“Naturally,” Lily hummed.

He put on a good show, she decided, of his usual cheerful and relaxed self. But they’d been going to school together for six years now, and even though they hadn’t been the best of friends for all that time, well… Lily could still tell. That little bit of darkness looming in his eyes. The way his smile dimmed a bit when he thought she wasn’t looking.

It wasn’t just the house hunting drama that had driven him out of the house today. And knowing how inseparable James Potter and Sirius Black were, it didn’t take much brainpower to deduce what the real issue was.

With an unladylike grunt, Lily wobbled up from the sofa – and was quite surprised to find herself in James Potter’s arms. He’d leapt up from the armchair and grabbed her under her arms to support her.

“Sorry,” he said in a low, slightly breathless voice. “Reflex.”

“It’s all right,” she reassured him, her gaze flicking from his intense hazel stare down to his lips. Suddenly, Lily’s throat was dry.

The moment stretched, the air between them charged. Lily wasn’t sure if she wanted to lean in or flinch away. This was not the easy camaraderie she’d got used to with James Potter. This was something quite different. Something new and unexpected. 

James pulled away, handed Lily her crutches. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” She found her balance, gripping the crutches a little too tight. “Join me in the kitchen? I think what we need is a good old cup of tea.”

“Sounds great. Lead the way, Evans.”

Lily hobbled into the kitchen, feeling James’ presence behind her. She was glad her back was turned to him because her cheeks were burning.

She’d need some time to think. Figure out what had just happened between them. But that could wait.

For now, she was going to have tea with James.

[drabblers]

Late Night Musings

Prompt: Late Fandom: Inuyasha Characters: Kagome, Sesshoumaru Setting: All human AU; Continues Permission 1,060 Words

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The hour was late. Kagome lay awake, staring up towards the ceiling obscured by the darkness that had fallen long since. She’d been trying to will herself to sleep for a while now, but restlessness clawed at her soul and her mind was too loud. 

For a moment, she had found peace earlier that day. Once again, little Rin was to thank, for the archery demonstration had been all by her request. Kagome had wholly lost herself the moment the smooth wood of her bow warmed against her skin. Her thoughts had faded into silence, the world had slipped away. 

She should make archery practice a daily routine, now that there was a practice yard she could use. She hadn’t been able to indulge in regular practice for such a long time. 

Though thinking about indulgences… She should ask the maids tomorrow about the use of a bath house. She might as well take advantage of all the perks that life as a guest of the Nishikawa clan offered her.

A wry smile tugged at her slips. Look at her. Fifteen long months on the road, visiting various shrines, offering help where she could to the folk ravaged by the endless civil strife. Fifteen months of a life with a countless ri walked, a life that had offered very little comfort and expected a lot of hard work from her. A life of toil. But also one of freedom. A life of travel and new experiences, of seeing first-hand the lives of the people across the land.

In all these months, Kagome hadn’t had much trouble sleeping. Usually she’d fallen into a deep sleep instantly, exhausted by a long day on the road. Sometimes she’d even walked through the night, pushing against the weariness dulling her steps.

But now sleep eluded her. She lay in her very own guest room, the futon soft underneath her, the quilt keeping her comfortably warm. In only a handful of days she had become so well accustomed to this new life, serving a powerful samurai clan. Alarming, really, how quickly Kagome had adjusted to life under the Nishikawa’s roof. A life of luxury… And of confinement. The walk to the practice yard today had been the furthest she had ventured since her arrival. If she stayed to teach Rin, it was unlikely she’d venture outside of the Nishikawa castle’s walls until the time came for her to return to the Musashi province. 

Kagome turned over on the futon, shoulders hunching as she burrowed deeper under the quilt. When she returned to Musashi, her days as a wandering miko would be over. There would be a new life waiting for her, for her to adjust to.

Maybe staying here with the Nishikawa clan was a good thing after all. Practice of a different kind so she might better settle into the expectations awaiting her. Hovering for a moment in the in-between, before she’d step down to the rest of her life.

In the dark of the night, that thought suddenly loomed large over her, so finite. Kagome’s eyes burned and she squeezed them shut. 

* * * * *

The hour was late. The lantern’s flickering flame cast sharp, elongated shadows to stretch across the shouji walls. Sesshoumaru sat back with a sigh. He tossed the letters and messages he’d been reading on his desk and ran a tired hand over his eyes. 

He could feel the first stirrings of a headache, worming at the back of his skull. The day had been long and he’d managed to keep himself preoccupied for the most of it – though the errant thoughts of their mysterious miko guest were as frustrating as they were unintentional. 

Then again, there were worse things to dwell on. Few scant days had passed since the shrine visit and he hadn’t once thought about Touran. Rin’s disappearance and the miko’s unexpected appearance had both provided ample distraction. Even when his father had brought up the topic of marriage the other night, memories of Touran hadn’t flooded him the way they used to. Perhaps, now that two years had passed, her hold of him was fading.

Though not quickly enough. Sesshoumaru’s hand balled into a fist, his fingernails digging into his palm. The bitter venom still lingered in his veins. The anger still hadn’t left him, even after two years. He’d fooled himself into believing it had, perhaps, but the way he’d reacted when his father had brought up the topic of marriage showed his failings clearly enough.

Sesshoumaru knew his father was right. The Nishikawa clan needed an heir. Sooner or later, he’d need to sire a son and in order to do that, he would need to remarry. But after his experiences with Touran, the mere thought of marriage sent pulses of rage through his body.

Their marriage, like many of those of their class, had been one of a political alliance. There had been bad blood between their clans, some decades ago they’d been on the opposite sides of a war. So marriage, their families decided, was the optimal way to bury the hatchet for good. But Touran was proud and loyal – and those loyalties lay with her clan, even after she had become a Nishikawa. She did her duty. She married Sesshoumaru. She gifted him with Rin. 

But she had no intention of burying the hatchet.

She relished wielding it instead. Her manner had always been the perfect picture of politeness – but her eyes were cold every time she was with Sesshoumaru. Her gaze had been sharp, burning him like ice. She’d felt contempt for him she hadn’t bothered to hide, every discussion between them a chance to mock him. She’d been like a panther poised to strike, her carefully crafted speech always full of fangs and claws with which to tear him into shreds.

Touran had been a great mother to Rin, but she had been a terrible wife. Sesshoumaru ran his hand through his hair. He probably had his faults too, as a husband. He’d answered Touran’s goading with cold neglect. He’d raised his voice at her more than once, when the fury had got a hold of him. 

No. Sesshoumaru was better off without a wife. 

He turned away from his desk, leaving behind the troubled thoughts and resurfaced memories.

It was time to lay that all to rest.

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Continued In The Moment of Peace

[drabblers]

Protocol

Prompt: Overtime Fandom: Bleach Characters: Kurosaki Ichigo, Kuchiki Rukia Setting: Canon Divergence 674 Words

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Writing the incident report was the last thing Rukia wanted to be doing right now.

Worry gnawed at her, and she was exhausted to the point her mind felt fuzzy.

Her muscles were aching, the bruise in her side she kept forgetting about making her hiss in a breath every time she shifted in her seat.

Still, the paperwork had to be dealt with, the sooner the better.

When a lieutenant was injured during a mission in the real world, it was something the other squads as well as the higher-ups needed to be informed of immediately.

And that was why Rukia was here, rubbing her tired eyes and cursing at the paperwork, instead of sitting by Ichigo’s bedside in the barracks of the 4th squad. 

Yet, that was where her thoughts kept straying.

She reminded herself that Ichigo had lived through much, much worse. That she'd patched him up with kidou in the field herself. That his visit to the 4th division was just a precaution as head wounds could be nasty and unpredictable.

And still, she worried.

Rukia stared at the words she’d scribbled, wondering if her jumpy handwriting would be legible for anyone else. She frowned and forced herself to concentrate, willed her thoughts not to stray to Ichigo’s bedside.

She sat straighter and winced when that bruise once again made itself known.

Somehow, she managed to cobble the report together, though she felt like she had to hunt down each and every word and drag them out, kicking and screaming. 

Tiredly, Rukia muttered a kidou spell, then sent the report on its way.

She leaned back, ignoring the sharp twinge to her side and just sat there for a moment, her eyes closed.

Finally, Rukia allowed herself to feel the exhaustion, the fear and the worry, all of which she’d been trying for so long to push aside. 

Her hands clenched into fists. She took a deep breath. A second, a third. Rode those wild waves of emotion. 

For a fleeting moment, tears threatened, burning under her closed lids. 

Then she pushed it all aside, composed herself and got up.

Moving briskly, she made her way to the infirmary housed in the 4th division.

Rukia heard Ichigo’s grouching even before she walked through the door and relief swept over her, sagging her shoulders.

A retort was ready at her lips when she strolled in.

“Let them do their job, Ichigo,” Rukia said, cutting into the irritated grumble.

Ichigo sat straighter, turning to Rukia.

“I’ve told you and them a thousand times, I’m fine!”

Rukia glanced at the nonplussed healer, who shrugged her shoulders.

“He seems to be recovering fine and there are no signs of concussion,” the healer supplied.

Rukia breathed easier. 

No head trauma. He truly was fine, as he kept insisting.

“Told you so!”

“Protocol is protocol,” Rukia said, quieting Ichigo with a look.

He rolled his eyes but ceased his protest.

“So can I go?”

“Yes,” the healer decided. “No need to keep you here for observation, lieutenant Kurosaki.”

“Good. We’re off.” Ichigo got up from the infirmary bed, crossed over to Rukia.

He grasped her hand in his, and pulled her along.

A smile tugged at Rukia’s lips.

His warm hand engulfing her hand calmed the last errant traces of fear from her heart. 

“Protocol and paperwork and all kinds of stupid shit,” Ichigo muttered under his breath, his fingers squeezing hers. “You were worrying and pushing yourself and working overtime. Didn’t even go see a healer yourself.”

“I only have some bruises,” Rukia replied.

“We’ll see,” Ichigo said, tossing a quick glance at her over his shoulder. “You’ve been so busy looking after me you haven’t been looking after yourself. Damn it, Rukia.”

And just like that, laughter bubbled in Rukia’s throat.

“Don’t fret, Ichigo. As soon as we get home, I’ll let you play the nurse.”

“You’d better!” Ichigo shot back, the tips of his ears turning pink.

Warmth flooding her chest, Rukia grinned at Ichigo’s back.

All was right in the world again.

[drabblers]

Then and Now

Prompt: Then and Now Fandom: Harry Potter Characters: James Potter, Lily Evans Setting: Canon, Hogwarts 7th Year 810 Words

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Their seventh and final year at Hogwarts had brought a tentative truce between Lily Evans and James Potter, the newly appointed Head Girl and the Head Boy. 

Given their tumultuous history, no one was more surprised than Lily that over those two peaceful months she had started to consider James Potter as a friend.

But tentative truces rarely lasted, and the Head Girl appointment had not charmed away Lily’s temper.

So perhaps it was inevitable that one evening in late October Lily Evans and James Potter found each other at odds.

They were heading back to the Gryffindor tower, after an evening patrol that had not quite gone to plan.

James was walking ahead of her, his angry strides swallowing up the quiet corridor in the sleepy castle.

Lily followed, seething in silence until the words burst out again, unable to be contained any longer.

“I can’t believe you,” Lily hissed at James’ broad back.

“So you’ve told me,” James bit back, his voice tight with irritation.

“I thought you had grown up!” she accused him. Because that, really, was what infuriated her the most. She thought he had changed, but here he was, back to his old asinine tricks. “I thought you deserved to be the Head Boy! But here you are, hexing Snape just like you were at fifteen!”

James whirled around, his robes billowing with the sudden movement. His hazel eyes were dark with anger.

“And here you are, defending him once again,” he spat.

Lily’s spine stiffened and she strode forward, prodded hard at James’ chest with her finger.

“How dare you. Snape or whoever, you can’t go around hexing people as a Head Boy!”

“What do you suggest I do then? What peaceful solution is there at times like these, Evans?”

Lily’s anger deflated a little. There was a ring of truth to what James was saying, much as it hurt her to admit it.

“I don’t know,” she said, crossing her arms, looking down at the stone floor of the corridor.

“For the record, he was aiming at you,” James said.

Those words hurt even more because Lily knew James wouldn’t lie to her, not about something like this… And though she had cut ties with Snape long ago she couldn’t help remembering the boy he’d once been, couldn’t help mourning and resenting him for the path he had chosen.

James paced the corridor now, absentmindedly mussing up his hair. “It is hard enough to just grin and bear it when he or his Death Eater buddies are coming after me.” 

He stopped, shook his head. “But you can’t expect me to just stand and watch and not to fight back when they’re aiming at the people I love.”

Lily’s breath caught in her throat. Her gaze locked with James’.

“The people you… what?” she asked him, her voice barely above a whisper.

James shrugged his shoulders and looked away. 

And as if at a flick of a switch, all that anger from earlier changed; turned into something even more powerful, more consuming. 

Lily walked over to him, pressed against him, wound her arms around his neck in one fluid movement. 

Then they were kissing and Lily wasn’t sure if it had been James who’d first claimed her lips with a surprising ferocity or if she herself had staked her claim first and in the end did it really matter?

He was warm and solid against her, his arms banded around her in a hold that was tight and just perfect.

Lily had been kissed before, by other boys; slow kisses, sweet kisses, shy kisses, insistent kisses.

But none had been like this one.

None that carried such all-consuming urgency, none that threatened to make her weak in the knees, that stirred her until she feared her heart might burst.

James’ kiss was so much more than anything she’d ever felt before. Lily sank into it, equal and willing, and let her heart lead.

————————————————————————————–

He stood beside her, formal and unbearably handsome in his dress robes, his dark hair still wild despite his mother’s best efforts to tame it.

She stood beside him, in her white dress, a wreath of flowers on her head and sunlight in her hair.

They were holding hands, sneaking glances at one another, sharing small, secret smiles throughout the ceremony.

And when they were pronounced man and wife, those smiles grew wide and wonderful.

James kissed her bride and Lily kissed him back. It was soft and sweet and overflowing with the love that filled them both.

The day was bright and full of hope and happiness.

And when Lily walked down the aisle in step with James, her hand in the crook of her husband’s arm, surrounded by the friends and family looking on them with the same joy that fluttered in her own chest, all was well.

[drabblers]

Permission

Prompt: Double Booking Fandom: Inuyasha Characters: Sesshoumaru, Rin, Kagome Setting: All human AU; Continues Promise 1,041 Words

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Sesshoumaru sat at his desk, holding a letter sent by an acquaintance in his hand.

He’d been trying to read through his correspondence all morning, but it was slow going. His eyes kept skipping over the lines; he didn’t see the words scribbled on the paper because his mind kept wandering to other things.

And most often, those other things seemed to be the miko.

It was aggravating, how much thoughts of the miko preoccupied him – how they interfered with his everyday tasks of looking after his clan.

His errant thoughts seemed to return to her, time after time, even though he had been avoiding her. Wholly on purpose, he had not seen her since she’d brought over the letter that needed to be sent to her shrine.

With his mind on that particular correspondence, Sesshoumaru couldn’t help wondering when the missive from her shrine would arrive. What would their response be?

Moreover, what did Sesshoumaru wish the response would be?

He wasn’t quite sure he wanted her to stay, not when he had an inkling of the web of schemes his mother was weaving, not when – loathe as he was to admit – a part of him wasn’t opposed to going along his mother’s plans.

The miko intrigued him too much; it was dangerous having her around.

And yet he did not wish to see her go. Not only for Rin’s sake, for the child would surely be crushed to lose her new friend.

But dangerous as she was… Sesshoumaru was not ready yet, to let the mystery of the miko from his grasp.

The patter of hurried footsteps jolted him out of his thoughts, a moment before the door of his room slid open.

Rin hurried in, Kaede on her heels, scolding in hushed tones how she should not interrupt her lord father like that.

Rin was half-way to his desk when she remembered her manners and took her seat on the floor.

But her cheeks were flushed, her big brown eyes bright and brimming with excitement.

A smile tugged at the corner of Sesshoumaru’s lips, and he put down the letter he’d long since given up reading.

“Yes, Rin, what is it?”

“It is Kagome-san!” the girl piped up. “That is… I asked Kagome-san if I could see her practice archery and she agreed and she was very good so I wondered if she could teach me too but she said only if you approve, father.”

The words came out in a fast, breathless, enthused jumble, but Sesshoumaru knew his daughter well enough to follow both her words and her train of thought – not that there was any mistaking of the pleading look she was now aiming at him.

“Please, father, can Kagome-san teach me archery?”

Sesshoumaru looked at his daughter, noting the precariously trembling lip, the brown eyes filled with hope.

Although he was glad Rin had befriended the miko, and was eternally grateful that the two had crossed paths, he wasn’t sure he wished for Rin to become even more attached to Kagome.

The miko was a good influence on her, this Sesshoumaru did not doubt. He also agreed with his mother that this was the kind of presence Rin needed to have in her life, an adult female who could teach her all manner of things.

Even archery.

But what if the missive from her shrine arrived bearing bad news? What if Kagome would not be allowed to fulfil the rest of her mandate here at the Nishikawa clan? If she was forced to turn down the offered teaching position and return on the road after she had already begun to teach Rin…

And yet, even with the doubts and reservations Sesshoumaru harboured, he could not deny this from his daughter.

Not when those expectant eyes were trained on him, not when she had already been denied so much.

“If that is what you wish to learn, then you have my blessing.”

Rin shrieked.

She got to her feet, all good manners promptly forgotten, and ran to him, hugging him in fierce elation.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Sesshoumaru wrapped his arms around her, couldn’t help the smile fleetingly gracing his lips nor the warmth spreading in his chest as he held his daughter against his heart.

She pulled away, composed herself once more and moved to sit before his desk, hands in her lap.

“I expect you to do your best in your lessons and listen carefully to the miko’s teachings.”

“Yes, father. Of course!” Rin was grinning now, the open delight playing on her features one of the things Sesshoumaru cherished the most.

He cleared his throat, inclined his head.

“Good. You may go now.”

Sesshoumaru waited while Rin practically skipped out of the room, Kaede bowing deeply to him before following her charge out.

He waited a while longer before he abandoned his desk and correspondence and set out to seek the miko.

He found her in the guest quarters appointed to her, surprise flashing in the blue depths of her eyes before she bowed her head.

“Raise your head,” Sesshoumaru commanded her.

She did as he bid, but her face remained guarded now.

“How can I be of service, my lord?”

“Rin came to tell me she had asked you to teach archery to her.”

“Only if you would approve of such lessons, my lord,” she replied.

Sesshoumaru tilted his head. “Archery would perhaps not have been my first choice, but a lady of the samurai should know how to defend herself. Thus I have given Rin – and you – my permission.”

“You are most kind, my lord,” the miko murmured, inclining her head.

“I do have one request, however.”

“My lord?”

Sesshoumaru studied her, trying to gauge her mood, her reactions. “I would like to observe the lessons. At least the first few.”

Emotions flitted on the miko’s expressive face. Though she made an attempt to mask them, Sesshoumaru could tell she was not happy about this turn of events.

But in the end, she bowed her head in acquiescence.

“Of course, my lord. As you wish.”

Sesshoumaru nodded and left to return to his own room.

And if somewhere deep down he felt unsettled by the miko, he ignored it.

——————————–

Continued In Late Night Musings

[drabblers]

Partnership

Prompt: Five Years Later Fandom: Bleach Characters: Kurosaki Ichigo, Kuchiki Rukia Setting: Historical AU 1,156 Words

------------

Rukia's trembling fingers curled into fists as she bowed her head in a sign of respect.

While her stormy violet eyes were downcast and shielded from her brother’s dispassionate gaze, she allowed her temper and dismay to flash through them.

She had known all her life that this day would come. That her brother would invite her into his rooms to announce that he had found and arranged a suitable match for her.

Rukia had not felt any trepidation or qualms about this future awaiting her.

To marry in a way benefiting her clan and helping to create alliances was the most important duty of a woman of her class; a duty Rukia had accepted long ago.

Even if her husband-to-be would likely be someone she’d never met.

But now that her brother had finally made his announcement and informed her of her upcoming marriage, it was hard to keep calm.

Of all the clans her brother wished to ally himself with, why must he have decided on the Shiba?

The pain that raked at her heart was dull but deep, an old ache she'd carried around for years.

Once, when she had been young, she'd all but longed to be the wife of a Shiba.

That had been a foolish wish, however, since Kaien-dono had already been married.

Young girls’ hearts were often like that – full of foolish yearning, made all the more romantic by the knowledge that the object of their affections would forever remain unattained.

Rukia pushed aside her turbulent feelings and straightened herself.

Spine stiff, she let her gaze briefly flick to meet her brother’s eyes.

“As you wish,” she said.

What other option was there, but to accede to the match her brother had negotiated for her?

She was no longer young and foolish, so her thoughts were of duty, not of romance.

After all, something as frivolous as love played no part in the marriages of the samurai.

   ---------------------------------------

  She tipped back the lacquered cup one last time, let the ceremonial sake flow down her throat. Binding herself in marriage to the man sitting beside her.

He looked nothing like Kaien-dono, which was a relief. Instead of easy smiles, her husband was scowling, and his hair was a strange, foreign colour.

Yet he was certainly a Shiba. As Rukia knew where to look, she could tell his features bore a remarked resemblance to Kaien-dono’s. She tried to ignore it, as she had been ignoring the old, dull ache in her heart for years now.

They did not speak to one another. Did not laugh as people from both their clans toasted to them and made merry.

This wedding celebration was not about them, or even about the marriage they had just entered into.

It was about the union and alliance between the Kuchiki and the Shiba, about ties forged by joining the daughter of one clan with the son of the other.

Later that evening, after the she had excused herself from the merriments, after the servants had helped undress Rukia from all the heavy layers of her wedding finery, she sat on the tatami of her husband’s bedroom.

Clad only in her white underkimono now, she looked at the two futon the servants had laid out, side by side. The flickering lanterns made the shadows dance on the walls as she waited.

The shoji screen slid open with a raspy whisper.

She looked up and saw Shiba Ichigo standing in the doorway, in a simple dark kimono.

His gaze first landed on her, then slanted to the two futon next to her. He quickly looked away.

In the dim light of the room Rukia couldn’t be sure, but it almost looked like he was blushing.

The dull ache deep inside eased as the corners of Rukia’s lips twitched.

Ichigo stepped in, slid the shoji screen shut and scratched his neck, clearly ill at ease.

“Greetings, husband,” Rukia spoke, amusement lacing her tone.

He nearly flinched at the address, and seeing how uncomfortable he appeared to be – standing in his bedroom, finally alone with his new bride – kindled something soft and tender where there had been pain before.

She extended her hand to him in invitation. “Come.”

Agitated hesitation shimmered in the lines of his body, but then he crossed the room, took his seat across from her.

The two futon lay between them, a silent reminder of the one last bit of duty expected of them.

Ichigo was careful not to look at the mattresses.

“This wasn’t my idea, you know,” he spoke for the first time, his voice gruff.

Rukia tilted her head. “I know. A marriage like ours is formed for the sake of clans, not out of personal preference. Though I would have thought you had at least some say in the making this match.”

“Yes. I accepted it, because I –” he clamped his mouth shut, didn’t meet her eyes.

And this time, Rukia was sure of that faint pink flush across his cheeks.

Something light and warm stirred as Rukia’s lips quirked.

Interesting.

“We don’t have to… you know,” Ichigo continued abruptly, glancing at the futon. “If you don’t want to.”

Rukia clutched her hands demurely in her lap, slanted her husband a look from under her lashes. “I accept my duty. This particular one included.”

He huffed out a breath, rubbed at the back of his neck again. “Shouldn’t be about duty,” he muttered.

“Perhaps then, about partnership,” Rukia suggested.

His head jerked up, his startled brown eyes met hers.

Rukia placed her hands on top of the futon with practiced ease, bent gracefully into a low bow.

“Pleased to meet you, I’m Kuchiki – ahh, Shiba Rukia.”

She didn’t see or hear him move, but suddenly his finger curled under her chin, the touch warm and a little tentative.

He tilted her head up, until once again their eyes met, gazes locked.

“I’m Shiba Ichigo.”

And when Rukia straightened from her bow, when his large hand gently clasped hers, the smile that rose to her lips held the first glimmers of hope.

  ---------------------------------------

  Rukia stirred from her sleep slowly, softly. This time, the culprit wasn't a sharp wail from the infant that slept curled against her breast.

Her son was still fully asleep, huffing out small even breaths.

Her eyes still closed, Rukia smiled in the dark of the early morning.

Judging by the warm, calloused fingers sliding up along her arm and disappearing under the sleeve of her underkimono, by the gentle kiss pressed to his favourite spot on the back of her neck, it was her husband who had woken her.

His lips found her earlobe next, his arm snaked around her waist.

His breath against her skin sent a tremor down her spine as his sleep-gruff voice whispered good morning.

Her heart full with happiness, Rukia placed her hand on top of his and, in a voice tendered by love, whispered back.

[drabblers]

You got to lose to know how to win

Prompt: Oh, really Fandom: Harry Potter Characters: James Potter, Lily Evans, Minerva McGonagall Setting: Canon, Hogwarts 7th Year 1,102 Words

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She stared at him, one eyebrow mockingly raised. "Oh, really?"

“Really,” James returned, his crooked grin just a bit cocky.

There was a challenging glint in Lily’s green eyes. “Prove it.”

“That sounds an awful lot like a challenge, Evans. Sure you want to issue one when your chances of winning are so slim?”

“Talk is cheap, Potter,” she said, leaning forward. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

At that point, Sirius Black, grinning widely and rubbing his hands together stepped up to them.

“All right, ladies and gents, it seems like we’re about to have a wager!”

Lily and James stared at one another, neither of them backing down.

“You confident enough to place a bet, Evans?” James taunted her.

“I’m as much a Gryffindor as you are,” Lily quipped. “Bring it on, Potter.”

“Brilliant,” Sirius cheered. “What are you betting on?

Lily crossed her arms. “When you fail miserably, you will have to let me borrow your owl for the rest of the term.”

James could barely hold back the snort. “That’s all you want, Evans? I’d let you borrow my owl if you asked, think bigger.”

“I don’t need to think big, borrowing your owl and seeing you in detention when you fail will be enough for me.”

“Well then,” James drawled. “Suit yourself. But when I successfully sneak into McGonagall’s office and claim my victory, you will give me a kiss.”

Both Lily’s eyebrows rose at that. “That’s you thinking big? All right, Potter, you’re on. But I will need proof of your victory.”

“I’ll bring you McGonagall’s biscuit tin to claim my sweet reward.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “And I’m going to have a good long laugh while you rot in detention.”

With that, satisfied at having the last word, Lily walked away.

-------------

It hadn’t been an easy task.

James had had to think quick on his feet and do some very advanced spell work to get past the various protections on McGonagall’s door.

But as he was an accomplished sneak by now, and a brilliant wizard besides, he got through. 

When the lock gave away with a soft click, James couldn’t help the huge, triumphant grin.

Silently, he swung the door open just enough to slip into the office. He pulled the door closed after him, leaving it just slightly ajar so he wouldn’t get locked in. 

Then, he took a moment to bask in his success and to remove his Invisibility Cloak and stuff it into his pocket. Although it was an essential tool for sneaking around the castle, it got in the way sometimes. 

James crossed the office with confident strides and stopped before the desk. He reached over and picked up the tartan biscuit tin that had been resting on top of a pile of papers, and smiled down at it. 

Then, the smile faltered.

Sure, he could win the wager. He could prove himself to Evans. He could celebrate his victory and claim his prize.

And while James really, really wanted to kiss Lily Evans, had day-dreamed of the moment it’d happen since they’d been in Fifth year… it wasn’t right.

Not like this.

It wasn’t what he wanted. A grudging kiss out of obligation just because he’d won a bet and forced Evans' hand would not come even close to what he actually yearned, deep down.

James’ fingers clenched against the cool metal. Then, his shoulders slumped in resignation and he set the biscuit tin back down on the desk.

“Having second thoughts, Mr Potter?”

James whipped around, and saw Professor McGonagall standing in the open doorway, tall and stern and staring pointedly at him from behind her square spectacles. 

James forced a smile to his lips, trying to appear casual even as panic clawed the pit of his stomach.

“Professor! I was just –”

“Spare me your excuses, Mr Potter. I am well aware of your wager with Miss Evans,” Professor McGonagall cut in.

James blinked. “Er, right. Of course you are.”

“Though I am surprised that you would intentionally throw the bet,” McGonagall remarked, her eyes knowing.

“I guess winning isn’t everything,” James said, trying not to squirm.

“Indeed, Mr Potter. Now, as it appears you’ve already learned your lesson, there’s hardly a need to give you detention.”

“Thank you, Professor,” James said, relief flooding his chest.

“I am forced to take 20 points from Gryffindor for your trespass, however. I expect you to earn them back on the Quidditch pitch, Mr Potter. Now, if that is all, have a biscuit and kindly leave my office.”

James took a biscuit from the tin and hurried out of McGonagall’s office, offering the professor a quick, sheepish smile as he passed her in the doorway.

To his surprise, McGonagall smiled back, before shutting the door behind him.

-------------

“So, Potter,” Evans greeted him, lounging on the plump red sofa by the fireplace. “You’re back.”

“I am,” James replied, sitting down on the armrest of the sofa.

“I don’t see a biscuit tin,” Lily commented, one eyebrow raised.

“Very astute of you, Evans.” James slanted her a glance. “You were right, I wasn’t up to the task. McGonagall’s office was too difficult to get in.”

“I told you so,” Evans said, her voice smug.

“Well, I got away without detention so I feel I’m having the last laugh,” James said, easily falling into the usual rhythm of his and Evans’ back and forth.

“Feel any way you want, Potter, but I’m borrowing your owl,” Lily said.

“Herbert is at your disposal, as promised,” James agreed. “But I still think you should’ve thought bigger.”

Lily shook her head. “I’m perfectly happy with my victory, Potter. Well, almost…”

“Almost?” James asked, a smile tugging at his lips. “Are you so disappointed that I avoided detention?”

“No. But I have to admit a small part of me wanted you to win. But I guess that’s easily rectified.”

James had barely processed the implication behind Evans’ words when her hand fisted in the front of his robes.

She pulled him to her, her soft lips settling on his without any hesitation. 

The kiss was brief, but lingering; just as sweet as James had always imagined it to be. It was both a declaration and a promise.

When she pulled back, James lifted his trembling fingers to cup Lily’s cheeks, met her green eyes. The soft, knowing glint in them made his heart race.

“I think with that we’re both winners,” he said.

“Good,” Lily replied. “Aren’t you going to kiss me again?”

James leaned in, laughed softly against her lips and did as he was told.

[drabblers]

Promise

Prompt: Where there is will Fandom: Inuyasha Characters: Kagome, Rin Setting: All human AU; Continues Inquiry 1,000 Words

----------------------------------

Confused and a little unsettled, Kagome watched as the young man strode away. The tension that had curled around her shoulders eased as he disappeared from sight. 

She's been wary from the moment he's clutched at his sword – the movement had been slight but revealing. 

Having travelled long on the road, Kagome had learned to read the small gestures. It was an essential skill to cultivate for a lone woman facing potential danger, as the motions of one's body told more about a person's intentions than their words.

And although the man’s stance had not been threatening, the way his hand had rested on the sword hilt had told Kagome he was proficient in using the weapon.

Yet, that had been no guard; he may have seemed gruff but the manner of his dress and the quality of the cloth were a clear indication of a higher status. 

Kagome stashed her arrow back into the quiver at her hip, swung the tall bow over her shoulder. 

"Who was that?" she asked Rin-hime. 

"Uncle Inuyasha!" the child replied with a cheerful smile.

Uncle? Kagome frowned in thought as she started walking towards the target to retrieve her arrows.

The man had borne no obvious resemblance to the young lord of Nishikawa; his hair had been dark, not the startling pale hue shared both by Lady Nishikawa and her son.

Of course, the hair colour proved nothing – Rin-hime had neither her father's pale hair or golden eyes so she must have taken after her mother. 

Kagome had not met Lord Nishikawa, the daimyou of the Izumo province, so it was possible Inuyasha had his liking and the young lord that of his mother. 

Or perhaps Inuyasha and the young lord had different mothers.

Having sons was important to the continuity of the clans, especially in times as restless as these. Therefore every lord of the noble class had a concubine – or several, in case of the more powerful and affluent lords.

Lost in her thoughts, Kagome plucked out her arrows one by one and deposited them into the quiver at her hip.

When she turned around, she found Rin-hime looking at her, the smile wide and bright on her lips and dancing in her brown eyes.

The sight tugged at her heart, teased a smile out of her, too.

“How wonderful! You are very good, Kagome-san!” 

“Thank you, Rin-hime, you are most kind,” Kagome replied, bowing her head as she stopped to stand before the girl and her attendant.

“Have you practised archery long?”

“I believe I was around your age when I started,” Kagome said.

Rin-hime clasped her hands, excitement clearly writ across her features. “Do you think I could learn it?”

Kagome tilted her head. “I do not see why you could not. The bow is a useful weapon and women of your station should learn to defend themselves.”

“Can you teach me, Kagome-san? Please?”

Touched both by Rin-hime’s eagerness to learn and of how genuinely the girl desired that Kagome teach her, all Kagome could do was nod.

“As long as the young lord consents and approves of the lessons, I would be honoured to teach you.”

Rin-hime beamed at her, then abruptly broke away from her attendant to give Kagome a quick, tight hug.

“Thank you! I shall go ask father right away!”

And with that, the girl hurried off, her attendant Kaede trailing in her wake.

Kagome smiled as she watched her run away to look for her father.

The child was such a delight; perhaps the most endearing girl Kagome had ever encountered.

It was no wonder Kagome had come to care for her deeply in such a short time. 

The warmth of that quick hug from earlier still lingered, as Kagome started to head back to her rooms.

She had spoken truly just now. For such a sweet girl, it would be an honour to stay on as a teacher.

Even if it would mean that by doing so she would essentially be allying herself with the Nishikawa clan.  

Kagome looked about herself, noting the guards here and there, the servants hurrying back and forth. The large structure of the Nishikawa’s palace, the more imposing sight of the castle towering at the very top of the rising hill. 

It was an impressive sight. The Nishikawa castle as a whole was well fortified and cared for. The walls provided safety, and from what Kagome knew, the daimyou’s grip of the region had remained steady. The Nishikawa were not warring with any of their neighbouring clans, and in the tumult of the times they lived in, Yonago remained a rare peaceful haven.

Admittedly, Kagome was probably safer here than she would’ve been on the road. Certainly, staying with the Nishikawa clan provided her with much more comfort.

But until now, she had steered clear of any clans, especially the larger ones. She had no interest in becoming involved in their politics.

The subtle manoeuvrings frustrated her; the hidden agendas lying hidden beneath sweet words like barbs in high grass.

She also didn’t care for their frequent squabbles as they fought one another for honour, for wealth, and most importantly, for power. 

For now, the Nishikawa clan was powerful, stable, safe. For now, they were at peace.

But the problem was that in times like these, such things could not be relied on and the peaceful days were fleeting.

A clan that was a close ally one day might turn on you the next. A new daimyo, hungry for power, might emerge all of a sudden and thrust everyone around him into the chaos of war.

That was why Kagome had preferred to stay aside from the clans and their conflicts. A lone, lowly shrine maiden had less to fear from people in power.

But for better or for worse, she had cast her die – if her shrine would allow her to stay on to teach Rin-hime, her future would be entwined with the fate of the Nishikawa.

 --------------------------------

Continued In Permission

[drabblers]

Guardian Angel

Prompt: Iridescent Fandom: Bleach Characters: Kurosaki Ichigo, Kuchiki Rukia Setting: Modern AU 1,034  Words

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was something off about Kuchiki Rukia.

Granted, Ichigo didn’t know her that well. 

She was just the woman who lived in the neighbouring apartment, they didn’t really socialise or anything. Just nodded and said hello if they bumped into each other coming or going. And she’d come to introduce herself when she had moved in.

But Ichigo had a sense about people and although he couldn’t put a finger on it, he was utterly convinced that something was up with Rukia.

Most people using the monikers of a psychic or a medium were charlatans, ripping off people who were at their most vulnerable.

Ichigo had nothing but contempt for them and did not at all wish to be associated with that lot of vultures.  So he didn’t really put any labels on his abilities.

Not wanting to use such words didn’t change the facts, though.

And the fact was, that just like the kid in that American movie, Ichigo saw dead people. 

Like the little boy who was standing beside his bed right now, sniffling.

Ichigo sighed and sat up. He reached out, feeling like his hand was plunged into a bucket of something ice cold and thick and gelatinous as he ruffled the ghost's hair.

"What's wrong?"

The ghost's tear-filled eyes met his. "I'm scared of the dark." 

"Well that's easily fixed," Ichigo murmured, then flicked on the lamp on his bedside table. "Good night, kid."

Ichigo laid back down and turned his back at the light and the ghost.

Before he fell asleep he heard the soft whisper in his ear.

"Thank you."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was late in the evening, after a long day of work and an exhausting commute when Ichigo finally turned onto the street he lived on. He was focused entirely on getting home and flopping into bed and paid minimum attention to his surroundings – until the dark and malicious threads brushed against his senses.

Ichigo stopped, instantly alert and looked around. 

At first, he didn't understand what he was seeing; just the dark shape of something big that was looming at the end of the street.  

He didn't know what it was, didn't even want to know what this creature could possibly be.

Because he could feel it, and the energy creeping over his skin was pure evil.

And then the huge, evil entity was moving and coming straight towards him.

Shit! This was bad!

Ichigo willed his legs to move but they didn’t obey.

He stood still, watching in horror as whatever that ugly ass thing was bounded closer.

Something moved in the periphery of his vision. 

The panicked thought that there were more of these ugly things roaming about had barely had time to surface before he realised that someone had just leapt out in front of him.

A small someone, dressed in a cutesy sundress.

Ichigo blinked.

What the hell?

What was the idiot woman doing?

That’s when he noticed the sword – and more importantly, the way she was holding it: like she knew what the hell she was doing.

Ichigo swallowed. 

He’d known something was off about Kuchiki Rukia.

And speaking of, she seemed different somehow… and not just because of the sword.

Then he realised what it was: for the very first time, he could actually see her aura, and it was unlike any he’d ever come across.

Usually, people’s aura’s were predominantly one colour.

But Kuchiki Rukia was bathed in a multitude of shimmering colours that kept shifting around her like an iridescent halo.

A shout of warning stuck in Ichigo’s throat when the creature lunged – but Rukia was already jumping forward to meet it, her sword at the ready.

It happened so quickly that Ichigo didn’t even register the purposeful slash of Rukia's sword arm until the evil creature was already dissolving, evaporating into the air, erased.

The world around them was quiet, the malevolent energy gone.

Gone also was the sword with which Kuchiki Rukia had destroyed it.

Ichigo shot a narrow-eyed glare at her.

“What was all that about? What the fuck was that thing?”

Rukia's face was calm, and she shrugged her shoulders as she replied. “We call them Hollows. They’re evil spirits that devour souls.”

Well, that didn’t sound disconcerting at all.

Ichigo shook his head, pushing aside the topic. He wasn’t ready to process all this shit about Hollows yet, and anyway, there were still some pressing questions to ask.

Such as...

“What are you? What the hell kind of aura is that?” he demanded, scowling darkly.

“Quite the opposite of hell, actually,” Kuchiki Rukia replied, her deep violet eyes amused. “It’s a celestial aura.”

“What? Like some kind of an angel?”

“Of a sort, yes.”

“You’re seriously expecting me to believe that angels are real?” he scoffed.

“You show a remarkably shallow faith for a man who can see ghosts.”  

That shut Ichigo up and made him frown all the more because how could she possibly know that about him?

Unless she was telling the truth.

But that would be ridiculous. Wouldn’t it?

An angel. Living next door. And one who could wield a vanishing sword, apparently.

Guess you couldn’t make that kind of shit up.

Frustrated about all these bizarre turns of events, Ichigo scratched his head.

“Well thanks, I guess. For jumping in like that.”

Crazy at it had been, Rukia had likely saved his life.

“No thanks are necessary,” she replied. “I was just doing my job.”

Trepidation snaked down Ichigo’s spine as his whole body tensed.

“What job?”

She quirked a single eyebrow at him.

Ichigo opened his mouth and closed it. He rubbed at his temples.

He could just feel the headache building up.

“When you said angel of a sort,” he drawled after a moment in a tight voice, “would there happen to be such a sort as guardian angels?”

Rukia’s slow smile was all the answer he needed.

Ichigo muttered a few choice words and stared at the petite woman, the woman purporting to be his guardian angel.

He didn’t know in the slightest what that all meant, but he was certain of one thing: his life was about to get a lot more complicated.

[drabblers]

Brain Power

Prompt:  As Advertised Fandom: Harry Potter Characters: Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, James Potter, Lily Evans Setting: Modern /muggle AU 1,004 Words

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Remus burst into the sitting room, where Sirius and James were yelling and furiously tapping on their controllers, fighting against a horde of zombies.

“Guys,” Remus called.

“In a moment, mate,” James managed to hiss out before cursing and tapping even more frantically at the buttons.

For a moment Remus was tempted to go stand in front of the TV and block their view of the game, but then he rolled his eyes, crossed his arms and settled to wait.

A few minutes later, James paused the game, ignoring Sirius’ grumbled protests.

“What’s going on?”

“I just read online that the pub quiz tournament is back,” Remus announced.

Sirius perked up. ”Hell yes! Marauders assemble!”

James grinned. “Brilliant. Same place, same time?”

“Yup,” Remus nodded. “Two Broomsticks, every Wednesday at 7 PM until the autumn term ends.”

“Can’t wait,” James said.

“We’ve got to win,” Sirius declared. “We’ve made it to the finals twice now and left without that trophy. This time we will settle for nothing but victory!”

“Having fun’s more important than winning,” James pointed out.

“Having fun is for losers,” Sirius retorted, earning a laugh from James.

“So what’s our winning strategy, then?” he asked, one eyebrow raised. “How are you going to ensure our victory?”

“Well, I’m guessing the team limit is still five people –”

“It is,” Remus replied.

“Then we simply need to get more brain power. We’ll add a genius on our team.”

“Sure, since geniuses grow in trees and all,” James said. “Or did you have someone particular in mind?”

“Nope. I’m leaving that to Remus.”

“Me?”

“Yes. You’re the science geek so you must know geniuses.”

“Must I?” Remus said wryly. “You’re the computer geek and you know none?”

“No one who’d be more brilliant than I am,” Sirius shrugged. “And that’s what we need.”

“Shouldn’t be too difficult to find someone smarter than Sirius,” James joked.

Sirius treated him to a very rude hand gesture.

Remus, however, was frowning. “You know… I might actually know someone. A chemistry major; one of the smartest people I’ve met.”

“There we go then,” Sirius smirked smugly and clapped Remus’ shoulder. “Extend our most cordial invitation. And make sure this genius accepts it. We need that brain.”

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When Remus arrived at Two Broomsticks for the autumn term’s first quiz night with Lily Evans, it wasn’t her brain that left an impression on James. 

Well, at least not at first. 

He was too taken in by the vivid dark red hair, the greenest eyes he’d ever seen and the quick bright smile – so taken in that he was actually struck dumb.

He could barely manage a nod when Remus made the introductions.

James scowled at his beer while Sirius greeted Lily enthusiastically.

He’d never been tongue-tied before and he wasn’t sure whether to be amused or alarmed at such a reaction.

Lily settled on the empty seat next to James. Remus sat down a moment later after he’d got drinks for himself and Lily.

“Okay lads – and lady – listen up,” Sirius began once they were all gathered at the table. “This is the start. I want us to carry out that trophy when the autumn term comes to an end so I need you to be extraordinary. Aim for full points, yeah?” Sirius looked at each of them in turn, his expression grave.

Lily leaned close to whisper into James’ ear, her warm breath deliciously distracting as it whispered against his skin.

“Is he always this intense?”

James breathed in her floral scent and managed to untie his tongue at last. 

“Afraid so; he takes winning very seriously. I told him earlier that having fun was more important than winning and he told me that having fun was for losers.”

Lily giggled. “Well, hopefully, we can do both.”

She gave him a wink, then leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her cider.

“Yeah,” James said, just a little breathless. “Hope so.”

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They were all huddled up at the table, heads pressed together as they argued over the answers in furious whispers. Peter wrote down their answers – he was their designated secretary since he had such neat handwriting.

It turned out that Lily Evans might really be a genius – not only did she know about chemistry and other natural sciences, she was also good with anagrams and literature questions. On top of those, she could answer some pop culture questions that left the boys drawing a blank.

It also didn’t hurt that her hair smelled really nice, and some silky strands of it occasionally brushed against James’ cheek.

When the third and final round ended, Sirius was at the edge of his seat, drumming the tabletop with his fingers while they waited for results. James forced himself to relax and finished his pint. Beside him, Lily turned to Remus.

“Thanks for inviting me along, it’s been fun.”

“We’re happy to have you,” Remus replied with a smile. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Sirius was right.”

Lily laughed.

“We’re not quite so vocal about it as he is, but the truth is that we like winning, too,” he confessed.

“Good,” Lily said. “So do I.”

The wait for the results seemed to take forever.

Peter was muttering to himself, second-guessing the answers they’d given. Lily and Remus were chatting about their courses, with James occasionally chiming in. Sirius scowled and drank his beer in agitated silence.

When the results were finally announced, their table erupted in cheers. After the first quiz night, their team was in the lead with a three-point difference to the second-best team. 

They hadn’t quite got full marks, but in the end, the victory was what mattered most.

“Peter go get us all drinks, this round’s on me,” Sirius declared. Then, grinning broadly, he offered his hand across the table to Lily.

“Welcome to Marauders, Miss Genius.”

Lily’s grin was just as triumphant as she shook his hand.  

“Thank you, happy to be in the team.”

[drabblers]

Inquiry

Prompt: Fool Fandom: Inuyasha Characters: Inuyasha, Kagome, Izayoi Setting: All human AU; Continues Reprieve 930 Words 

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For a moment Inuyasha stood rooted to his spot, trapped in the gossamer web of memory.

Of meeting in secret in the cover of the night; of stolen kisses and whispered promises he had fully intended to keep.

But alas fate had come between them – the duty she'd chosen over him and their tender affections. She'd left behind only a letter, pinned to the bark of their tree.

Just as quickly the memories faded and he saw he had been mistaken. Though the uniform of a miko was the same and there were some similarities in her features, the woman before him was not Kikyou.

The eyes were the most obvious difference: bearing an unusual colour of deep blue, they regarded him with polite confusion, an expression he’d never seen from Kikyou.

Inuyasha’s hand twitched and he released his sword hilt.

“Sorry,” he said gruffly. “I mistook you for someone else.”

The miko bowed her head but offered no other reply.

Inuyasha couldn’t help staring at her. She both intrigued and discomfited him. Intrigued, for what in the blazes was a miko doing at the Nishikawa castle in the first place?

Discomfited, because even just the sight of her brought forth memories best forgotten, of another time, of another miko.

Inuyasha gritted his teeth. He nodded a quick greeting to little Rin, then determinedly turned his back at the miko and strode away from the practice yard. He’d do his sparring at a later time, a better time, when there would be no blue-eyed mikos in the audience to remind him of nights long past.

He ignored the claws of pain that clutched at his heart and set a brisker pace.

And despite his determination of putting this unwelcome tangle of feelings behind, curiosity lingered – questions popping into his head one after another.

Inuyasha’s steps slowed. He stopped, hesitated… Then, he changed his direction.

It wouldn’t hurt to find out what the miko was doing here. He’d learned long ago that it was best to stay aware of the comings and goings of the Nishikawa castle.

There were fewer nasty surprises that way.

Therefore, instead of going back to his quarters, Inuyasha headed for the eastern wing.

He found her in her rooms, humming to herself while arranging a bouquet of flowers. She paused in her task the moment he stepped in and looked up with a delighted smile.

“Inuyasha! Come, sit!”

Inuyasha crossed the room and sat next to her, careful not to crush any flowers.

When he’d settled beside her, her hand rose to cup his cheek.

Inuyasha briefly closed his eyes, savouring the tender touch.

Then, he opened his eyes and looked at her, allowing a smile to rise to his lips.

“Hello, mother,” he greeted her, his voice softened by affection. “How are you?”

“I am fine, dear son,” Izayoi replied, “how sweet of you to ask. More importantly, how are you faring?”

“I’m well, though I just had a strange encounter,” Inuyasha said, frowning.

“Truly?” Izayoi clasped his hand. “Tell me what is making you frown so.”

“I went to the practice yard to spar but there was a stranger there; a miko training at the archery range. Little Rin was with her.”

“Oh, yes! The miko, everyone is talking about her, so I admit I am curious about her as well. I have yet to meet her, what was she like?

“I don’t know, I did not really talk with her. She was good with her bow and seemed polite. She had blue eyes.”

“How extraordinary! I think I should like to meet her.”

Inuyasha’s lips twitched in a fond smile.

“Why is the miko here, do you know, mother?”

“I heard she helped Rin-hime when the poor girl had got lost. That is why the younger lord Nishikawa made the miko an offer of hospitality, as a sign of his gratitude.”

Inuyasha’s eyebrows shot up. “Sesshoumaru did?”

Izayoi nodded. “Yes. And Lady Nishikawa met with her yesterday morning. Likely, her ladyship already has several schemes afoot.”

Inuyasha snorted. Her highness would have a number of schemes at any given day, in any given situation. Inuyasha was certain she had more plots in store than his father did.

Izayoi clasped her hands in her lap. “The latest bit of news I have heard regarding the miko is that the young lord has asked her to be Rin-hime’s teacher. Do you think he might be fond of her?”

“Keh! If Sesshoumaru wants her to teach little Rin, it’s likely he respects her. But fondness? That icy bastard is only fond of little Rin.”

“Oh, Inuyasha, I wish you would not speak so disparagingly of your brother,” Izayoi admonished.

“Sorry, mother,” Inuyasha muttered half-heartedly.

Izayoi bestowed him a gentle smile. “Well, whatever the young lord’s feelings towards the miko may be, it would seem the Nishikawa want her to stay.”

Inuyasha scowled.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to see the miko around, especially if she insisted on wearing the all too familiarly haunting white kimono and red hakama.

She reminded him too much of Kikyou and he did not wish to spare a thought to the priestess he’d once known. He had no wish to revisit the days when he had been a fool in love, nor to plunge back into the pain that still lingered, threatening to engulf him.

Thus, he decided to put aside the matter of this new miko as well.

Inuyasha squared his shoulders, mustered a smile for his mother, and abruptly changed the topic of their conversation to more pleasant subjects.

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Continued In Promise

[drabblers]

Happiness

Prompt: Little things Fandom: Bleach Characters: Kuchiki Rukia, Kurosaki Ichigo Setting: Canon divergent 490 Words 

It was the little things that gave her away.

The sudden fatigue that had caused her to take naps in the afternoon. The small but noticeable changes in her appetite. The absentminded way she sometimes rubbed at the small of her back, as if to alleviate some stubborn ache.

And most alarmingly of all, the unnerving ease with which tears would now spring into his courageous wife’s deep violet eyes.

That one was as sure a sign as any that she was not quite herself.

Of course, Ichigo was by no means an expert in these matters… but he was the one person who knew his wife and her habits the best.

Besides, he had seen her go through all this before. 

Back then he had of course been completely oblivious until she had at last confided in him. 

This time, however, Ichigo knew what to expect.

And this time, he wouldn’t have to wait around until she would choose to tell him. He might as well go seek her out and inform her of his suspicions this very instant!

Mind made, Ichigo went in search of his wife.

Down the hall, he caught the murmur of her low voice. He followed the sound, marching down the hallway with a purpose.

Reaching the room his wife was in, Ichigo halted in the doorway. His purpose all but forgotten, he leaned against the doorframe, his gaze soft and riveted on the sight that greeted him.

His wife was curled up in the armchair, holding up an open storybook. In the safe and warm cage of her slender arms sat their daughter, her head propped against Rukia’s shoulder. She was listening raptly at the story and looking up at her mother instead of the book.

Rukia paused briefly to turn a page, and the mother and daughter shared a smile.

Ichigo’s heart swelled in his chest as love suddenly flooded him, filling every shadowy corner with warmth and wonder.

Happiness was still thrumming in his body when the two identical pairs of eyes met his gaze.

The grin his daughter gifted him was one of pure joy.

But it was the smile playing on his wife’s lips that took Ichigo’s breath away. It echoed the knowing sparkle in her violet eyes and perfectly mirrored the depth of the happiness and affection that was still squeezing at his chest.

Ichigo pushed off the doorframe and crossed the room.

He perched himself on the armrest of the chair. He stretched his arm around Rukia’s back, so he could rest his hand on his daughter’s head and stroke her soft fine hair.

His other hand Ichigo placed lightly on the side of Rukia’s stomach.

She darted a glance at him.

He smiled and pressed a kiss to her temple. 

He settled in to listen to the story and idly wondered how amazing it was to have the whole world in the circle of his arms.

[drabblers]

All In

Prompt:  Not an obligation Fandom: Harry Potter Characters: Lily Evans, James Potter Setting: Modern /muggle AU; Continues Plan B 1,064 Words 

Lily glanced at the fit bloke next to her as the train pulled off from the station.

Even though she saw him sitting there, could brush against that broad shoulder if she leaned just a little bit closer, could feel the heat radiating off his tall, leanly muscled body… 

A part of her still didn’t quite believe she’d had the nerve to accost a perfect stranger on the street and told him she needed him to be her boyfriend.

It only added to her disbelief that the perfect stranger had agreed without hesitation.

It hadn't all been smooth sailing, however: they’d got into a small row back at the ticket booth. 

Lily had wanted to pay for his ticket since he was going into trouble on her account and had had to cancel his plans with his friends.

But the guy – James Potter – had not allowed her to repay him for his time. 

In fact, he’d snatched her purse from her hand and slipped it into his back pocket before handing the amused sales clerk his debit card.

When he’d given Lily the purse back, with his ticket in hand, his hazel eyes had been twinkling. 

The only explanation he’d deigned to give, had been: “I don’t want you to think I’m doing this out of obligation.”

What ever the bloody hell that meant!

But now they were on a train heading to Cokeworth, about to spend the next hour and half sitting side by side with little distractions.

It was time to come clean.

“So this garden party my parents are hosting is a big deal," Lily started. "They do it every summer and half the neighbourhood’s invited.”

“Only half? My mum never settles for less than the whole neighbourhood,” James replied.

The corners of Lily’s lips twitched, and her body relaxed against the seat.

“I had told mum I’d bring my boyfriend with me this time. Which probably was a mistake, since we hadn’t been dating for that long and I wasn’t sure if our relationship was even going anywhere and… Well, it’s a moot point now.”

“If the bloke’s stupid enough to chase after other girls while he’s dating you, good riddance to him,” James said decisively.

Lily bit her lip. “But since I told mum, by now everyone’s expecting me to arrive with a boyfriend on my arm.”

James nudged her with his shoulder and grinned. “And so you will.”

Lily smiled back at him. “Thanks to you.”

“No need to thank me, Lily. Free food and drinks and a beautiful woman to keep company to – it’s going to be much more fun than just going to the pub with the lads.”

Lily tried her best to ignore the warm flutter she felt at having been told she was beautiful.

She didn’t quite succeed.

“Oh, and a fair warning,” Lily said, ploughing on, “my sister and I don’t really get along. Since you're accompanying me she'll probably dislike you, too. Feel free to just ignore her.”

“Ignoring the sister,” James promised solemnly.

“An old and former friend of mine might be coming too. I cut him out after he fell into a bad crowd but he cornered me at the last year’s party and tried to plead his case." Lily grimaced. "That’s another reason why I didn’t want to go to the party alone today.”

“Challenge a clueless berk to a duel so he’ll stop giving you grief – check.” James met her gaze and winked. “Don’t worry about it, love. We’ll go and party and have fun, that’s all there is to it.”

Lily’s smile came from the heart.

“You’re a real life-saver, James. Thank you so much.”

James flicked her nose.

Lily flinched, then let out a startled laugh that turned sincere the next second.

“Now that’s better,” James said, and the way he smiled at her had her breath catch in her throat. “I told you already there’s no need to thank me. I’m more than happy to help.”

After that, they eased into a conversation. As they got to know one another a little better, the minutes grew wings and fluttered by at a startling speed.

Sooner than Lily would have believed, they were in Cokeworth – and in a flower shop.

“We can’t show up empty-handed,” James had told her before strolling in,

Watching him decide between the bouquets the florist was suggesting, Lily could feel that swoon coming in.

She might just be in over her head with this one.

James got his bouquet and they got out of the flower shop. 

As they started walking down the street towards the neighbourhood Lily had grown up in, he slipped his hand into hers.

Something warm and heavy swelled in Lily’s chest and she was pretty sure she was smiling like an idiot.

Yup, she was definitely in over her head.

And she didn’t care.

She pointed out places of interest as they walked, such as the coffee shop in the corner or her old school, the light-hearted banter flowing easily between them.

As they turned to her street, Lily pointed towards the house near the end. “That’s it right there. The house I grew up.”

James stopped.

Confused, Lily halted as well and turned to him.

He was looking at her, disconcertingly serious all of a sudden.

Fear crept up Lily’s spine on cold spindly legs.

He couldn’t have changed his mind now, could he?

“I don’t want to come across as being too forward,” he said after a while, his hazel eyes hesitant. “But there’s something I need to clarify with you before we go in.”

“What is it?” Lily asked, squeezing his hand.

Her heart dropped when he leaned in.

It soared when his lips brushed against hers. Very lightly - the all too brief contact almost shy.

He pulled back, gauged her reaction.

To hell with it, Lily thought, the second before she rose to the tip or her toes.

There was no hesitancy in the kiss she initiated; it was a slow but explosive crackle of chemistry.

James was grinning when they pulled apart, both of them a little short of breath.

He offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

Lily took it, exhilaration bubbling in her body.

She would go to her parents’ garden party with a gorgeous man on his arm – who definitely hadn’t tagged along from any sense of obligation.

[drabblers]

Three months late

Prompt: Mystique Fandom: Rurouni Kenshin Setting:  Modern AU, Actors. This is part two continuation for the one-shot: “A Comedy of Romance.” The last part was “Goodbyes aren’t always final“. Characters: Kenshin Himura, Kaoru Kamiya, Misao Makimachi  Word count: 3307

<…and if you would like to see more about my interpretation of the character, I would be pleased to do also demos from other scenes. Looking forward to hearing back from you. Respectfully yours, Kamiya Kaoru.>

Kaoru frowned at the email she had written, gnawing on her bottom lip thoughtfully. No, it was as good as it could get, she decided and pressed send. The email left, leaving her to stare at her depressingly empty inbox. Twenty-two applications send, only two replies – and both of them nicely worded versions of “sorry, not interested.”

It sucked to be an actress between jobs, with no good prospects waiting.

True, it was the same for all the starting actors and yes, she knew the industry was extremely competitive. But still, if she just got a chance, a real chance to play a significant role in an action movie… She sighed deeply. Sometimes her dream just felt too distant. Unreachable. Like a mission impossible. But Kenshin had told her that she just had to keep trying and to differentiate herself from her competition the best she could. For example, when she had an option to choose scenes to do a demo for, she should select ones that suited her strengths instead of going for the popular choices.

The thought of Kenshin drove her to check her mailbox’s spam folder, just out of habit. Ads for sunglasses, bags, online shop adds, and nothing else. Just typical.

It had been twelve weeks since the last shooting day party, since that night with Kenshin… since he had left for the Gobi desert. She hadn’t heard anything from him since then. No phone call. No email. No message. Nothing. His shoots for his next movie had supposed to take six to eight weeks, but now… it had been three months. Had she just dreamed that night? Maybe she had been too drunk and just come up with this elaborate make-believe memory and fooled herself into believing that Himura Kenshin had asked her to date him?

Or maybe, there was no self-deceit or mystique to it at all and it was like Misao said, that her co-actor had just made promises to get into her pants and after he had succeeded, he had fucked off to his merry ways and left her reeling.

She shook her head.

No, Kenshin wouldn’t do that. He was not the sleazy type, thank you very much. Which she had tried to explain to Misao as well – but given that her secrecy contract forbid her from mentioning Kenshin’s name until it was officially announced – her explanations had fallen on flat ears.

Kaoru groaned to her hands. She was frustrated and angry at herself, at Misao and most of all – at Kenshin. Why hadn’t he contacted her? It was the Gobi desert, not Mars! They had some form of communication down there, hadn’t they? Even if they didn’t have reliable phone lines or internet, there had to be old-fashioned snail mail or a courier or... something? Surely, If he wanted to, he had to have some way of contacting her?

…If he wanted to.

Gods, that was the one thing the devil on her shoulder kept whispering her. That she had understood the whole dating thing wrong and it was like Misao claimed, that he had just wanted one night’s fun.

No. Nope. She slapped her cheek, as if to drive away the poisonous thought, and rose, heading to her kitchen. Misao should be coming back any minute now and she had promised to cook tonight. Nothing fancy. Just something simple even a kitchen disaster like her could throw on a frying pan and call it dinner.

She lived in a two bedroom apartment in downtown Tokyo with her roommate since University days, Misao Makimachi. It was a useful arrangement for both of them. After all, freelance reporters and actresses shared the same problem: they got paid per project basis.

Kaoru had just gotten the frozen dinner on a pan when out of a sudden, the doorbell rang.

“Wait a minute!” Kaoru yelled, dumping tofu and frozen vegetables on a pan and setting to heat to hot. It should take several minutes to warm up anyways. She huffed, sweeping her hair aside and looked down at her comfortable pajamas. She had not bothered to dress up for the day, after all, it wasn’t like she was going anywhere. Should she change clothes to answer the door? Nah, no need. It was just Misao.

The doorbell rang again.

Kaoru growled. Seriously! Was Misao carrying something large, or just being lazy that she was not using her own keys to open the door?

She pulled the door open, about to say something rude but the words died on her tongue and she blanched in realization…

...and slammed the door shut right in front of his face.

———————————————–

“Oro?” Kenshin blurted, too stunned for more cohere words.

Something slammed against the door with a thud. Her back? Then, her shaky inhale echoed in the silence.

Kenshin lowered his hand and wetted his lips. “Miss Kaoru…?”

“Why didn’t you send a message?” She asked softly. “Even a letter? You had to have some form of communication available, even down there in the middle of nowhere.”

“I… I, ah… Um, one is sorry, that he is.”

“Sorry…?” She asked, taking a pointed pause. “I waited for you. Week, four weeks… twelve weeks and nothing.”

There was hurt in her tone: bewilderment, pain… but also anger. Kenshin squeezed his hands to a tight fist. God dammit! He should have known that man couldn’t keep things professional between them.

He took an inhale, finally gathering himself enough to speak. “This one did send you messages. Every day, in fact. But it seems that they got lost in transit, that they did. This one is sorry, that he is. Miss Kaoru – please, forgive this one.”

Clothes rustled, and something hit the door – her fist? No, her forehead?

He heard her drawn breath. “What happened?” She asked, her voice wavering only a little. “If what you say is true, how can you lose over a  hundred messages?”

“That’s… Um, it’s a long story. A very personal story, that it is.” Kenshin cringed. “But in essence, this one’s interpreter… well, Enishi has a reason for being angry with this one, but this one honestly assumed that he could put his feelings aside and maintain a professional relationship.”

“…your interpreter?”

“Err, yes,” Kenshin said. “This one doesn’t speak Chinese – more than few words, that is – and whenever one does movies with Chinese one needs help with the language.”

The lock twisted, and she opened the door.

He stared at her, drinking in every detail of her. Her hair was in a messy bun, and she was wearing her pajamas and under her eyes, she had dark spots, like she had been trouble sleeping. Yet, despite everything, she looked like home and something in his chest ached. He wanted nothing more than to pull her close and tell her how he had missed her.

“Let me get this straight,” she started, gnawing on her bottom lip. “Your interpreter had a grudge against you? And he took it out by not sending your messages? Did the guy never want to have work in the industry or what?”

“Um, that’s… well, most likely he knew this one wouldn’t rat on him.” Kenshin hazarded, “As this one said, Enishi has a good reason for his anger, that he has. You see, this one, well, one was, but...” He stopped abruptly and looked aside, clearly trying to find the words but failing miserably.

She blinked slowly. “Um…”

Instead of continuing his stammering, Kenshin shook his head and dug into his shoulder bag and pulled out a stack of letters with a huge red stamp with Japanese text for "Return to sender" on them. “This one picked these up at the mail office in China. See the address?”

She took the stack gingerly, turning the unopened stack of letters in her hands. “That’s my name but… what the hell?”

“Enishi did send the letters as this one instructed him to, that he did. He just misspelled the address and when the letters did not reach a proper destination, they were returned to China – and given the distances, this one only found out about this last week, that one did. Note how small the error is?”

“Are you sure it was deliberate?” She asked. “I mean, even to me – it looks like a human error.”

Kenshin exhaled, relieved that she seemed to believe him. “I… Well, could this one come in?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder where a neighbor was peeking from the doorway. “One will tell you, but as it relates to personal history, one would prefer to keep it between the two of us, that he would.”

Miss Kaoru followed his gaze and blanched. “Err, yes – of course.”

She opened the door, wordlessly inviting him in… into an apartment with visible puffs of smoke floating around.

Kenshin stared. “Um-“

Which was, of course, the moment when the fire alarm blared to life, filling the apartment with ear-splitting beeping.

“Oh fuck.” Miss Kaoru said, pressing her hands to her ears. “Wait here!”

And she ran off to where the smoke was coming from.

Too curious to his own good, Kenshin followed her to – kitchen? Miss Kaoru had pushed a frying pan onto the kitchen sink with its contents and all and was staring at the fire alarm fixated to her ceiling like she wanted to smash it to pieces.

No wonder why, like him – she was on the shorter side and the kitchen did not have a convenient a ladder or step-stool. Well, not a stool most people would use to reach high places.

Kenshin grinned and without a second thought, grabbed a chair from next to her small dining table, stepped on its seat, tilted it on two legs and climbed to stand on the backrest, balancing it while reaching to the offending fire alarm.

And there!

Blessed silence.

Miss Kaoru stared up at him, her mouth falling open. “So you really do your own stunts—“

Kenshin covered his mouth with his hand, but couldn’t quite contain his snort in time.

She pouted at him.

And then he really couldn’t help it, but burst into laughter. Gods, her expression! He knew it wasn’t polite – no, it was downright rude but she had an unparalleled ability to make him laugh and forget his worries and stress. It was amazing. Just for that, he would have fallen in love with her…

“Mou! It’s not that funny,” she grumbled. “And get down here before you fall down, break your neck and force me to cart you down to hospital.”

“Sorry,” He straightened and jumped down. “It just seemed to be the fastest way to solve the problem, that it was.”

“I was not complaining.” She grumbled, turning to the offending attempt at dinner.

“Kaoru…”

———————————————————

His voice was soft, gentle when he whispered those syllables. He always said: Miss. He had never called her by her bare name. A shiver raced down her spine and something fluttered at the pit of her belly.

She didn’t turn around. Because if she did… she wasn’t sure what she would do.

Footsteps behind her, and then he stopped, close enough that his breath tingled at her neck. “I… This one missed you.”

She swallowed. “I missed you too.”

He laid his chin on her shoulder, resting his arms around her waist. Not forceful. He was simply there. Warm. Solid. And there. For her. She inhaled deeply, turned around in his embrace and asked, “are we still dating?”

“I… This one…” He frowned. “Aren’t we?” He finally asked. “One means, if you don’t want to…”

“I do!” She hurried to assure him. “I want to. I just, it happened so soon an then I didn’t hear anything from you-“

“One is sorry about that, but there was-“

“I believe you,” Kaoru hurried to interrupt him. “I know you said the whole thing with messages and interpreter spiraled out of your control and I want to know all about it, but before that… I just, are you sure that you want to date? With me?”

He blinked slowly. “Why wouldn’t one want to date with you?”

She looked aside, gnawing on her bottom lip. “It’s, well, you are you and I am…“ She waved her hand, directing his gaze to take note of the apartment’s small kitchen and all signs of student lifestyle style therein. The difference to the standards he was used to had to be obvious. After all, even when discounting the fact that he was a celebrity, he was exceedingly well of man and she… she was just a rookie actress starting in her career with a whole bunch of student loans to pay for.

He took his time studying her apartment from his spot, still holding her in his embrace. Finally, he noted out loud, “It’s homely, that it is. A lot cozier than the apartment this one used to live when he was just starting out, that it is.” He smiled at her, a hint of mischief sparkling in the corner of his eye. “Did you know, this one afforded to purchase a futon only after the Legend of Hitokiri Battousai was published and started breaking the box office records? Before that, one used to sleep curled against the wall.”

“…huh?” Kaoru gaped. “You mean…”

He shrugged. “This one knows very well how difficult it is to start out in this career, that he does.” He drew his arms a little tighter around her and looked at her seriously. “One knows how very proud and self-reliant you are, that one does. But if you ever feel that you could accept introductions or some other assistance one could offer…”

“No!” She yelped. “No, I’m fine. Thanks for offering though.” She mumbled, feeling the heat to rise to her cheeks. Gods, did he think she was asking for help? She wasn’t about to take advantage of him! “I was just…” She paused, and thought through what she had been about to ask which really came down to the question: are you sure that am I good enough for you? And suddenly, she felt very stupid. “It’s nothing”. She mumbled, pressing her face into his shoulder.

The whole time she had known him, Kenshin had been very consistent in his appreciation of her. His glances at her, his constant smiles, the way he always took her questions and concerns seriously and offered any help he could… No, even if she had no idea why he had decided to like her, it was obvious that he did enjoy her company.

“Kaoru…” He hesitated. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” She mumbled. “I just feel stupid, that’s all.”

He huffed fondly, stroking her cheek, wordlessly asking her to look up. “You are amazing.” He smiled. “You are funny, charismatic and if one could, one would never again leave your side.”

That last line! Only he could repeat his character’s line at her like they hadn’t spoken those words to each other in front of cameras and five dozen people three months ago!

She grinned, and replied her part, “Then stay.” And rose on tiptoes to kiss him.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back, drawing her to his embrace like they had never parted. They kissed and kissed each other again…

“Kaoru, you are never gonna believe this, but the neighbor’s old lady said she saw…“ A female voice called out, only to turn to a shriek: “Oh my god.”

A shopping bag dropped to the floor.

Kaoru froze and turned to look at her roommate staring at them. Blushing, Kaoru untangled herself from Kenshin’s embrace and swallowed, “Um… Hi, Misao-chan.”

“Kaoru, you…” Her roommate stared. “That’s…”

Kenshin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Um... Hi, I don’t believe that Miss Kaoru has mentioned me.” He smiled awkwardly, stepped closer to Misao and offered his hand for a handshake, “I am Kaoru’s colleague, Himura Kenshin, that I am. It’s nice to meet you.”

Misao took his hand and shook it. “Uh, Misao. Makimachi. I have heard quite a bit about you.”

“You have?” Kenshin asked, guileless.

“Uh huh.” Misao nodded, her eyes lighting up with unholy glee. “But more importantly, what was with that kiss? Do you kiss all your colleagues like that?”

Kaoru felt like face-palming. “Misao…”

“Hey, hey,” Misao protested. “It’s a valid question! A girl’s gotta know these things.”

Kenshin stiffened. “Uh… No. That’s not the case, that it isn’t.”

“Then, what’s with the kiss?” Misao’s smile had teeth. “Because if you step in Kaoru’s life just when it suits you and end up hurting my friend…”

Kenshin looked at Kaoru, a question in his eyes. Clearly, he wasn’t about to say anything if she wasn’t okay with it.

Kaoru’s heart melted. She smiled, and stepped to his side and wrapped an arm around his waist. “We are dating.” She said to her friend. “It’s a little bit sensitive information, so please could you keep it to yourself?”

Misao blinked. “Okay, if you say so… but, uh, what about the three-month long disappearing act? Weren’t you angry about that?”

Now Kaoru did cover her eyes and groaned into her palm. How often had she talked, ranted and whined about her mysterious colleague that had left of to shoot his film in China during the last three months to Misao? She couldn’t even venture a guess. “Yes I was, but there was a bit of trouble with the interpreter and...” She trailed off, noting how tense Kenshin seemed to be. Hadn’t he said it was private? Given his habit of understating things, it really had to be something he wasn't comfortable at speaking about. She looked at Kenshin and said decisively, “It’s all fine now.”

He shot her a relieved little smile that spoke more than a thousand words.

She had made the right choice then. She exhaled in relief, spun around and grabbed her phone from the kitchen counter. “But before that, perhaps we could order something to eat?”

Misao glanced at the kitchen sink. “Don’t tell me you burned the dinner again.”

“This time it wasn’t my fault!” Kaoru protested, holding out her phone. “Is Chinese fine for everyone?” She froze, realizing the faux pas as soon as she said it. He has just been three months in China. He had to be sick and tired of Chinese after that.

Kenshin grinned sheepishly. “Or perhaps this one could cook?” He volunteered. “You seemed to have planned on having a homemade meal tonight.”

Kaoru’s stare turned to shock.

Even Misao boggled. “You cook…?”

“Sure,” Kenshin quipped back and leaned down to gather the groceries Misao had dropped to the floor.

“Kenshin…” Kaoru hesitated.

“It’s fine.” He smiled at her. “This one enjoys cooking. It’s one of his hobbies even to this day, that it is. Besides, one did interrupt your cooking rather badly, that one did...”

"That's..." Kaoru cringed.

"Please, Miss Kaoru." Kenshin smiled at her. "Let this one do this small thing for you."

What could she say to that? Wordless, Kaoru nodded at him.

In silence, She and Misao settled down to sit around the dinner table and stare the spectacle of international action mega-star, Himura Kenshin unpacking Misao's groceries with quiet efficiency, and them rummaging through their fridge, pantry, and freezer for supplies to cook a dinner for them.

It was quite obvious that he knew what he was doing.

Kaoru gnawed on her bottom lip in silence, and Misao leaned over to whisper to her ear. “Forget everything I said and hold to him for your life. You and him... It's obviously a match made in heaven.”

AN: Happy new year!