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Sometimes she forgot who she really was: her true identity seemed just another cover. Kagome, granddaughter of a temple keeper, was a made-up story, a well-orchestrated play. She had gotten good at pretending over the years; good enough to try a career in the movie business, Kagura had told her once. Kagome Higurashi, daughter of Michiru Higurashi, was a mask: from time to time, Jewel, the spy, would wear that mask to visit the temple and go back to being the carefree high school student she had once been.
Before Shikon, before Naraku ... before Inuyasha.
With him, Kagome Higurashi was no longer a delirious dream, but a solid reality, Jewel disappearing into the recesses of her mind.
The number one rule for any spy was never to reveal their name. Names held too much power over someone in her position; she had people to protect at home. So, she gave up everything for the job: her name, her life, her family. Even her hopes and desires for the future. There were only two possible endings to her career as a spy: either die young or retire when her body and spirit became too broken to carry on. Kaede had recommended the mountains in the Hokkaido Prefecture, isolated and scarcely populated: the perfect spot to settle down once she decided to retire.
But the thing was…she had crushed that first rule and run over it with a steamroller. She’d blamed her misstep on the fear and pain she had felt in that poorly illuminated alley. She really had believed she would’ve died there, and she had wanted the man holding her to know her name, to tell the truth to her loved ones once she’d passed, even if the truth was hard to swallow.
“Ka-kagome. That’s my name,” she remembered saying as a piercing pain erupted from her abdomen.
And to her surprise, her impromptu ally, the one she picked up along the way like a stray, the one Shikon bestowed on her, revealed his name, too.
“Inuyasha is the name; it would’ve been a pleasure if you were not bleeding to death on my lap.” His hold firm, but gentle, one hand cradling her face and the other pressing on her wound. “Don’t you dare die on me,” he added, his voice calm but with a hint of uneasiness. “Hey, Kagome, did you hear me? Don’t you dare leave me alone in this shit show.”
And she didn’t. A couple of weeks later, she was back in action and they were again on the tracks of their shared enemy, Naraku, the one who had destroyed a piece of their lives and then came back to finish the job, hunting them down like prey. The bastard had nothing to lose; he was on the Most Wanted list in at least seven countries and he was sure of his capabilities. All the mobsters and the pieces of scum of Japan’s underworld had lent him a hand to hide and to orchestrate his big coup. The last piece of the Jewel was nowhere to be found and he’d turned the Capital upside down, unleashing his minions all over the country in search of the most powerful weapon ever created. They’d decimated his ranks, breathing down his neck, but his shape-shifting ability had helped him to fly under the radar and, even if they worked great together, they’d missed him a couple of times by a hair.
For truth’s sake, when Kaede had asked—or better, had ordered—her to team up with that dickhead from the Taisho Agency, she’d almost rioted: if Sango had not been on maternity leave, she would’ve helped her came up with an insurrection along the lines of the French Revolution. But her friend was not there and she got stuck with the half-demon prick. Rudeness mixed with cockiness was his trademark.
“Why your codename sounds like a stripper’s stage name?” was the first thing he said when their agencies put them together. Her nerves had already been fried by then.
“Why when I think about yours do I have the urge to throw a stick, Good-boi?” Her rebuttal had annihilated every possible retort.
Revealing their real names had been only the beginning, a mistake easily forgotten if they had decided, with a tacit agreement of not speaking them ever again. But then, he had begun using it at his heart’s desire, rasping it, yelling it, and whispering it, and every time it left his lips, his voice rhythmically pacing on the syllables of her name, she felt weak at the knees. Even when he cussed. “Fucking trust me, would you, Ka-go-me.”
Dislike had become curiosity, curiosity had become interest, and from there, attraction was around the corner.
Then Shiori happened. The night they spent keeping watch of the child sleeping soundly between them had showed her the tender heart hiding behind his gruff words and rough manners. A spy should’ve never let somebody see that side of themselves—facts could became weapons in the span of seconds, but he’d trusted her enough to speak freely.
“That’s sad,” she had whispered, fearing to wake the little girl.
“What?” His eyes had already been closed; sleep had almost claimed him.
“You saying that you’re not going to have a child someday.”
“I live in the real world, Kagome. Life is not easy, and for a half-breed, it’s even worse. I’m not going to put into this world any child that’s going to be punished just for what they are.”
“You’re not going to put anything in this world.” He had looked at her like she’d suddenly sprouted antlers on her head. “Leave that and whatever decision you have about offspring to your future wife.”
“She would have to agree with me. I have a life worth of cons to support my thesis.”
“Maybe she could change your mind.”
“I hardly believe it.” A somber smile had flashed in the dark, leaving her no space to argue.
And then Kyoto happened, and Okinawa, and every step of the way they’d revealed something of themselves. First names, then hopes and fears, and at last their bodies. She’d dropped her mask, freeing her true self, even if she knew that that predicament would have only one ending: heartbreak.
Falling into bed with him had seemed a good idea at the time. They had tiptoed around each other for long enough; heated glances and sporadic touches had heightened desire, lust dripping from every teasing word he uttered to her. She had been ready to jump his bones since Shiori and trying to control herself had been really hard. Better to get that out of their systems once and for all: for the good outcome of the mission, of course. They didn't want to put their lives at stake because they were sexually frustrated.
She had not looked for commitment—maybe just a one-night stand—and despite everything, he had seemed as good as one. Really good. Great actually, if the way his finger had caressed the trigger of his gun was any indication.
There hadn’t been fireworks or revelation of any kind, but instead a liquid placidity and an exhilarating joy when she’d come undone under his masterful ministration. His tongue lapping at her folds like a starving puppy was sin incarnate, his hands gripping her hips possessively as he thrusted into her the only thing that had kept her from floating away with pleasure, his fangs grazing the peaks of her breasts with a gentleness she believed him incapable of. Every growl and moan had reverberated through her, leaving her shaking like a leaf in the storm.
As long as it was consensual he could've done anything with her body; she was a malleable material under his hands.
Only one thing she denied him: kisses. Her chemist mind had trapped her in the belief that kisses were only good to find partners, long lasting partners, and they would be none of that. That had been a one-time thing. She knew that it only took seven seconds, the touch of two tongues, the mingling of some oral fluids, and then dopamine and oxytocin would have done the rest. Kikyo had told her once that she was a klutz for believing such a thing: a fool fooling herself. Maybe she was, or maybe not: the fact was that since she was a spy and commitment was out of question, she couldn’t risk catching feelings; she’d always run away from them like they were a mortal disease. Especially feelings for a fellow spy. Death could claim them any minute, so it was useless building something that could have been blown away so easily. Kikyo’s death should have taught her that.
He’d complained like a kicked puppy, his ears dropping on his head, his oh so kissable lips pulled into a cute scowl and his otherworldly golden eyes boring into hers like he could’ve convinced her to go for a make-out session just with a staring contest. And he almost did.
Kagome would've been a hypocrite to say she didn't want to kiss him. She’d wanted so badly to know how his fangs would’ve felt under her tongue, but she’d resisted. Her heart was not prone to surrender.
Nonetheless, she rewarded him with mind blowing sex, if his howling her name was any indication, and he’d seemed to forget the kiss ordeal, too sated to care.
But Kikyo had been right. She was a fool fooling herself. Kisses had nothing to do with falling in love.
The more she came to know about him, the more she fell deep, like Alice down the well, and the fall was both exciting and terrifying, like skyrocketing and then being pulled back toward earth by gravity.
And gravity had reclaimed her one fateful day, crushing her every hope and revealing a harsh truth: love was a weapon.
“Why so shocked, Kagome? You were waiting for me, isn’t that so?” The pale face of her nemesis had greeted her in the aisle of a supermarket, between shelves full of snacks and junk foods, during something as mundane as grocery shopping. His eerie red eyes filled with barely hidden hate. “I thought it was time to show my face and let you know that I’m done playing.” His hand had reached for a lock of her hair, twirling it around his fingers. Her body froze in place, incapable of moving. “I’ll destroy you and that mongrel you keep at your side, from the inside out.” Disdain dripped from his words.
“What…?”
“You are such a disappointment, Kagome.” Kikyo’s voice came out of his mouth and her heart had stopped beating, her mentor’s last words ringing in her ears. “I thought you would be able to detect deceit when it’s in front of you.”
“How-?”
“Thanks for the memories, Inuyasha, but it was just sex and I hate dogs.” Naraku had spoken with the perfect replica of her voice.
“You can’t.”
“Oh, but I can and I will. Breaking his heart will be a real pleasure.”
“Leave him out of this. It’s between us,” she had pleaded.
“No, it has never been just between the two of us. He is the other protagonist of the story; he deserves a great exit.”
“NO!” she had shouted, drawing the attention of the other customers, but Naraku had vanished before her eyes.
And then she’d been left waiting for the impact. But time had passed and Naraku was nowhere in sight; there was no sign of him and no report on his whereabouts, as if he was waiting for the right time to strike.
They’d come back to the capital. And what had started as a one-night thing evolved in something deeper; feelings had been involved and her heart had surrendered. His name was carved on her heart with a sharp knife in bold letters on it.
If she had known that would’ve been their last night together, she would’ve cherished every moment: she would’ve admired Tokyo skyline in the background, sparkling with thousands of lights. She would have savored the finest food in the city, relishing the company of the man she had finally admitted to loving. But all she’d thought about was that all could have ended soon.
Not even his rambling about the last bullshit Miroku had pulled had saved her from her thoughts. But his relaxed face and his moving lips and occasional smirk had set her into motion. She’d climbed on the table under his astonished gaze and had kissed him with all her might.
She'd poured everything in that first kiss, and despite the moment and the fear of losing him, she savored his lips like they were the finest treat. His surprise was soon discarded as he threaded his hand in her hair, gently cradling her nape and molding his lips to hers. For someone so grumpy and brash, his lips were surprisingly soft and gentle against her own. His tongue delicately brushed her lower lip, seeking entrance, and she had greeted him with a soft sigh. He tasted of the expensive Italian wine they’d had with dinner, and she felt inebriated. She took hold of his tie, pulling him against her, a fork scratching her knee, his claws massaging her scalp and barely managed to keep their balance, but that had been for sure the best kiss she’d ever had. Her tongue caressing his with growing urgency had elicited a content rumble from his chest and languid heat had slipped down in her belly.
They’d drawn the attention of the other costumers and particularly of the maître d’, who had intimated that they should leave at once—public display of affection and all.
“You said no kisses,” he mumbled, a breath away from her lips, in between kisses.
“I regret that,” she declared, feeling sorry for all the time wasted not kissing him, her tongue slipping in his mouth lewdly. It had taken them twenty minutes to reach the taxi stop; every few paces, they’d stopped to pull the other in for a peck or a hard make-out session against a wall. It had been inappropriate and childish, but it was their only chance to behave that way. They practiced self-control once in the backseat of the taxi to avoid a report for obscene acts in public place, the aged taxi driver giving them scolding looks from the review mirror. She’d hidden her face on his shoulder giggling like a lovesick teenager. She was fifteen years old all over again in the throes of her first crush. A grown-up woman should’ve never fallen so easily, but he’d had that effect on her. She’d felt unaltered joy for the first time in ages.
Their lovemaking had been slow and intense, like they had all the time in the world, but she knew better. When she came, crying his name to the heavens, tears streamed uncontrollably down her cheeks. How foolish on her part to love something that death could snatch from her at any moment.
“It’s too soon to say, but I think I may love you.” Words had fallowed the natural path of her thoughts.
“I’ve developed some kind of attachment to you, too.” He’d held her against his chest, hiding his smile in her hair.
One beat. Two beats. And then, she warned him of what could come.
“Whatever I may say, don’t believe me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Inuyasha. Promise me you will not believe any of the words that may come out of my mouth.”
“Kago-” she silenced him with a searing kiss.
“Just promise. Please.” Her voice wavered under his worried gaze. “Remember. Me loving you is the only truth.” She caressed his face, lovingly tracing his features, trying to brand that moment in her memory. His eyes bright in the aftermath of their lovemaking, his fuzzy ears focused on her every word, his expression unguarded and sated in the comfort of her embrace.
But their joy had been short-lived.
Like a predator waiting in the shadow for its prey to lower its defenses, their enemy struck at the zenith of their happiness.
She’d decided to search for Naraku alone, to reduce the chances of him finding them together and use their embryonic relationship against Inuyasha. His demonic strength didn’t apply to his heart: it had been broken and poorly mended too many times, and she couldn’t allow to it to be destroyed again. Inuyasha’s heart was hers to protect.
She’d found him, or more like, he let her find him. “Sadly, your plan will not work. Your lovesick pup is on his way here; I can already smell his stench.”
“I’ll stop you!” She drew her gun and pointed it at his head, but the second she tried to pull the trigger, her muscles went rigid; she was incapable of moving her arm.
“Let the final act begin.”
Darkness hugged her, fogging her senses, leaving her suspended in the shadow of her mind. When she regained consciousness, she was facing Inuyasha, guns pointed at each other. Her mind was unclear: there’d been a presence controlling her body, words flowing from her mouth. Inuyasha’s crushed expression broke her heart, a snarl curling his lips, fangs showing, and eyes flashing red. The only other two times she’d seen him in that state had been frightening, his bloodlust uncontrollable.
“Like with Kikyo, you will always be the second best. Half-breeds like you are unfit for happiness. You should die and purge the world of your foul stench.” Her voice had sounded so true, so sincere in its cruel remarks.
“What better advice to follow if not your own?” he snarled, pulling the trigger, and her heart had stopped beating.
Then, her body had sagged forward, her mind clear in the aftershock of the shot. She waited for flashback of her life to flash before her eyes, for her father to greet her on the path for the afterlife, but there was no pain, no light at the end of the tunnel. Just two arms holding her, like that time in the poorly lit alley.
“I told you time and time again to trust me, didn’t I, Ka-go-me?”
“How-?” she rasped.
“There is only one truth. Remember?" His smile forever engraved in her memory. "Me loving you.”