Dreamer Awakened

CHAPTER NINETEEN

"Kusanagi," Momiji murmured, her green eyes, still full of shadowed dreams, nonetheless reflected her relief at seeing him.

When she had first opened her eyes, and found him staring down at her, she had thought she had seen a look of dread in Kusanagi’s eyes as he stared down at her. But now she couldn’t’ be certain since he immediately shot backwards, a shuttered expression now firmly ensconced on his face.

After a moment of unbroken silence, Kusanagi turned away from her, his hands in his pockets, and he prowled over to the window, while Momiji just watched him. He raised a gloved hand, and absently reached to pull back the curtains and open the blinds so he could stare out across the front yard, and allow the late afternoon sunlight to flood the room.

The silence lengthened between them and Momiji blearily sat up and squinted her tired eyes against the sudden brightness. She felt awkward and uncomfortable, and very uncertain of his mood. Was Kusanagi still angry with her? Was that why he was being so quiet? Or was it because he was mourning the loss of Kaede? As the questions flitted through her head, Kusanagi turned back in her direction and Momiji tried to find an answer to them in his expression. But his face was thrown into the shadows, making it almost impossible to tell what he was thinking.

"I was afraid you weren’t coming back," Momiji mumbled, mostly to herself, as she let her eyes slide over him.

He was still wearing the same shredded, light grey shirt as he had been at the iwatto, the well-defined contours of his chest visible as it gaped open. The blue mitamas stood out brightly against the bronze of his skin and there were dark stains smeared across his chest and his shirt; blood stains from Kaede’s wounds, Momiji thought numbly.

Kusanagi didn’t say anything for the longest time, but just stared at her, his eyes, sweeping critically over the pallor of her face, and the fatigue etched in every line of her body.

"Of course I came back," he finally replied in a toneless voice, "It’s my responsibility to protect you."

Momiji briefly closed her eyes at his words, feeling the ache inside her twist even more painfully, and she slowly rose from the sofa to her feet, keeping her gaze centered on the coffee table, averted away from Kusanagi.

"Responsibility," she muttered bitterly to herself, "that’s all I am, isn’t it? Simply an obligation to be fulfilled" and then louder, "if that’s what you came back for, then you shouldn’t have come back at all, Kusanagi," she told him in a hollow voice, her green eyes finally traveling to meet his, dull and lifeless with dark circles standing out beneath them. "You’re not obligated to look after me anymore," Momiji declared and then paused in a moment of dejà vu. It seemed like they had already had this conversation, and she really didn’t want to have it again. But apparently Kusanagi hadn’t paid attention before, so she found herself repeating, "I’m not a little girl anymore, -I am more than capable of taking care of myself –"

"Like hell you are!" he suddenly railed, his body stiffening as the lid went flying off his anger. He stalked closer to her and pulled his hands from his pockets, balling them into fists to keep from throttling her. " - Unless you define being shredded into tiny pieces by some godless creature as taking care of yourself! - If I hadn’t gotten to the iwatto last night when I did, you would have been dead, Momiji! "

The twisting ache inside her heart tightened even more and Momiji felt something snap at his relentless anger. She began to shake violently, no longer able to contain all of the helplessness, frustration, bitterness, and sorrow that she felt. All of her negative emotions flooded past the barriers she had erected to keep them in check, and she was suddenly unable to stop them from pouring from her mouth.

"That would have suited me just fine! It probably would have even been better that way!" Momiji screamed at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

There was a wild look in her green eyes. And as she stared up at Kusanagi, meeting his brooding, silent gaze, a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh squeaked out. Momiji put her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle the hysterical urge to howl insanely, struggling not to give in to the emotions prodding at her.

Momiji turned away from him then, scared by her own lack of restraint and knowing that she was close to losing complete control. Fighting to overcome her conflicting emotions, the rational part of her brain tried to reassert itself, appalled and horrified at her own words. But it was almost as if someone else had taken control of her body and was speaking through her and she didn’t know how to stop them.

All she knew for certain was that she didn’t want to be here like this, her heart raw with the pain of knowing that for Kusanagi, she was only something to be protected, instead of someone to be loved. At that depressing thought, the urge to laugh died, so Momiji dropped her hand away from her mouth, and her words began to pour out once more.

"I could have fulfilled my duty as the Kushinada if you had just let Tamanasu kill me," she informed him in a low tone, her voice shaking now almost as much as her body. "- At least then I wouldn’t have had to watch – " her voice petered out miserably, squeezed off as another sob threatened to break free. Momiji swallowed the sound and drew in a gulp of air, managing to add in a calmer, deader voice, "It’s the only thing I can do, the only way I have to protect –"

She broke off as rough hands seized her and swung her around, shaking her so hard that she had to clench her teeth together to keep them from rattling.

"Stop it!" Kusanagi demanded roughly, his face angry and harsh, "You’re nothing but a fool, if you think that you your death would have been worth the sacrifice!" he hissed at her, enraged that she would treat her life so cavalierly. "You would throw your life away, and for what, Momiji?" he demanded, his eyes burning with an intense fury she had never witnessed in him before. "To protect, Kaede?" he gave her another shake as he continued to berate her. "Your sacrifice would not have stopped the inevitable! – she would have died anyway! Or maybe you were thinking that you could protect the little Aragami Seedling!?" Kusanagi spat venomously. "He’s hardly worth your sacrifice! - You should have let me kill him while I had the chance, Momiji. If there’s no child, then the Tengugaki cannot fulfill their plans - and now -," Kusanagi finally released her, shoving her backwards a little as he did, and she stumbled to keep her balance, watching him with wide eyes as he scowled down at her, "- now that the TAC know about him, his life will be nothing more than one long science experiment! He would have been better off dead!"

"You’re wrong!" Momiji screeched, "I won’t let that happen!"

"How are you going to stop it?" Kusanagi demanded, "- when you can’t even protect yourself? - You are a little girl – and a naïve one at that - if you think you can save him from the government!"

"I can and I will!" Momiji retorted furiously. "You may not think I’m strong enough to protect him, Kusanagi, but I promised his mother and Kaede that I would! - I will protect Noa, no matter who and no matter what!"

Momiji clenched her teeth together. Her body was now shaking so hard that her knees threatened to give way, but she still managed to direct a defiant glare at Kusanagi. Inside, she knew her defiance was nothing but a façade, Kusanagi’s words serving only to remind her of her own doubts regarding her capacity to protect the newborn, but she didn’t want him to know that so she spun on her heel, wanting to flee before he realized just how little faith she had in her own abilities.

She took a step forward and her toe collided with the tantou making a soft clinking sound. She automatically reached down and swept it up, feeling Kusanagi’s brooding eyes on her as she did so and her fingers tightened around the chokin scabbard.

"I may not be Kaede the Kushinada, Kusanagi," Momiji told him looking down at the blade in her hand, "but I’m still a Kushinada; my blood still has the power to protect, and I will use it to protect those that need me, and those that I care about, whether or not you think I am a worthy sacrifice!"

"Momiji!" Kusanagi called after her but she ignored him to run up the stairs, and he made no move to stop her.

Momiji scrambled up the stairs, and tripped into her room, her face hurting from the effort to keep from crying. She dropped the tantou on top of her dresser and shakily covered her face with her hands, trying to block out everything . She was so tired, so emotionally spent that all she wanted to do was to lay down, go to sleep, and sleep forever.

Momiji dropped her hands away from her face and looked at her reflection in the mirror, noting how the dark circles under her eyes stood out against her pale face giving her a haunted look. She looked terrible, she thought, but she couldn’t summon up enough energy to care.

Looking away, she opened her drawer, pulling out the first nightgown she came to and put it on. Then she turned numbly towards the bed, not even sparing a second glance for the clothes that lay scattered across the floor where she had carelessly shed them, when normally she would have made sure she had put them away.

Slowly she shuffled over to the bed, turning out the lights as she went and lying down in the dim room, the daylight filtering through her blinds keeping her from total darkness.

Don’t think. Don’t feel. She kept telling herself over and over. Just sleep.

She pushed her thoughts away, willing for sleep to come, but as she closed her eyes, she couldn’t ignore the heavy feeling in her heart and a single tear squeezed itself out from beneath her eyelids, slowly sliding down the side of her face. It was soon followed by another and then another.

Don’t’ think. Don’t feel. Just sleep.

Turning onto her side, Momiji curled up into a protective ball, and her face crumpled. She covered it with her hands as the tears trickled down her cheeks, and her shoulders began to shake. No more, she silently pleaded as her brain kept going around and around everything that happened. I just want to sleep, she silently despaired, but her heart was hurting too much to listen and she broke into quiet sobs.

Sakura’s face twisted into a petulant grimace. How come she had gotten stuck with returning to the lab with Ms. Matsudaira? Looking out the window, she rolled her crimson eyes to the heavens and stared resentfully at them.

Hadn’t she been a good girl lately? She silently asked the gods in a peevish sort of way.

She had even given up her date with…damn! What was his name? – That blond Adonis – just to do the bidding of the TAC! She hadn’t had to answer her phone, she thought waspishly. She could have just let it ring. Or better yet, she could have chucked it out the window and said, ‘to hell with them!"

But she hadn’t.

She had done her duty.

She had been a very good girl! She assured herself, her bottom lip angled outward in a petulant pout.

And this was how they repaid her for her services. By making her play nanny to a squeaky, squirmy, little raisin, Sakura huffed to herself, scowling down at the infant that was clutched awkwardly against her midriff as she did her best to feed him the formula that Matsu had handed to her when he had started to bawl.

Jeez! What she wouldn’t give to be with Ryoko and Kunikida who had both stayed behind at the iwatto, waiting for the arrival of the coroner to take that girl, Kaede. She would have even been willing to put up with that redheaded gorilla, Kome, and her geeky husband, Yaegashi, who had gone with Sugishita.

Kunikida had given them morgue duty. It seemed that Sugishita knew his way around there well enough to get tissue samples from Tamanasu, having run the gamut there once already. Kome and Yaegashi would be acting as his diversion, but Sakura didn’t see what Kome had that could be more diverting than her own charm and beauty.

It just wasn’t fair! She fumed, glaring down into the cat-like eyes of the dark-headed little raisin. Her glare relaxed a little as she examined him, watching him suck hungrily on the bottle she was feeding him, his tiny hands with the mitamas buried in the backs curled into miniature flailing fists.

Now that she thought about it, Sakura admitted, the little sucker did look a lot like Kusanagi. She wondered if Kusanagi could be the father and almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of that thought. Kusanagi might be a plant, but he was as straight as a stick when it came to girls. The only one he was interested in was Momiji, and knowing little Miss Virgin, Sakura doubted he had gotten anywhere with her either.

But still, she thought in a considering way, cocking her head to one side as she stared down at Noa.

An unholy light began to shine in her eyes, and her lips curled into a feline smile. Whether or not Kusanagi was the father made little difference. She could still have some fun with the idea, taunting Kusanagi with it and maybe even managing to get a rise out of Momiji with it as well.

Perhaps it would even give little Miss Oh So Perfect something to think about. Who knows, it might even spark a few naughty ideas in that sterile little brain of hers. God knew she needed to loosen up some – and a good roll in the hay with Kusanagi would probably work out all of those irritating personality kinks that Sakura hated so much, like that nauseating air of sweet innocence.

Bleah!!

Just thinking about it made her sick!

Sakura’s musings were abruptly interrupted when Noa jerked his head to the side, the nipple of the bottle sliding from his mouth.

"Hey, what’s the matter? A second ago you were screeching like rubber on spinning wheels and now you act like you don’t want any more? Make up your mind will ya!" she ordered him looking down, and her eyes widened in horror as he began to spit up some of what she had just fed him.

"Eeyyeew!" she gritted in disgust, holding Noa away from her body as if he was a sack of rotten potatoes that had just started to ooze.

"What? What is it?" Matsu swung away from her lab table and asked in a panicked voice.

Thinking that something was wrong, she bustled over to where Sakura was sitting by the window, acting as if she was about to drop kick the newborn across the room. Matsu looked at Noa’s face, now going purple as he prepared to howl his little lungs out. As he started to wail, Sakura immediately thrust him towards Matsu, a rattled look on her face.

"Here, you take him!" she said, and Matsu’s arms automatically encircled the squalling baby, cuddling him against her lab coat where she proceeded to alternate between patting him and rubbing him on the back. "I can’t figure out what the pruny little brat wants."

"Don’t you know how to burp a baby?" Matsu asked impatiently, still rubbing Noa on the back even though he had ceased to cry.

"Well, no," Sakura retorted, moving away so that Matsu couldn’t hand the baby back to her. "It’s not something that they teach you as part of your training to become a priestess, and it’s not something that I have a burning desire to learn either. Besides, you seem to be more the motherly type than me."

Matsu rolled her eyes and stepped up, thrusting the baby back into Sakura’s unwilling arms. "You’re here, Sakura," she replied in a firm, matter-of-fact voice, "you might as well make yourself useful. I have to finish what I’m doing so that I can tell Momiji it’s all right to take Noa home."

Sakura’s mouth compressed into a thin line at the mention of Momiji’s name.

"Why isn’t she here now? She should probably be doing this, since she is the one that’s going to be taking him anyway," she grumbled sourly.

"Because she needs some rest," Matsu shot over her shoulder as she returned to her lab table. "You forget that Momiji’s been through quite a lot lately."

"I haven’t forgotten," Sakura seethed, "No one will let me forget. - She’s not the only one who needs her beauty sleep, you know. I have quite a delicate constitution myself!"

But Matsu just ignored her, engrossed once more in her work, and Sakura was left to stare resentfully down at Noa who was once more greedily sucking on the bottle she popped in his mouth.

"Just you wait, Momiji," she said heatedly, "after I get through, I’ll have you and Kusanagi squirming worse than this little raisin."

Kusanagi watched Momiji leave the living room and his fury slowly dissipated as he reflected on her distress in believing that he thought her unworthy to be the Kushinada. He was the unworthy one, he thought growling in frustration, not her!

Those had been his exact thoughts all day as he had ridden around on his bike, the biting wind numbing his body but not his mind, unable to shake the image of Momiji at the iwatto, standing in front of him, trembling and pale, staring at him like he was a monster.

It had cut him to his very soul when he had looked up from the squalling Aragami baby to see that look of fear on her face, and he had left her there, unable to bear it. If it had been anyone else, he could have shrugged it off, uncaring of how they thought of him, but not with Momiji.

It mattered very much to him what she thought; too much, and he had fled, running from that look and trying to get his emotions back under control. He had ridden and ridden until he was bone weary, and then he had ridden some more, afraid to come back to Momiji’s house, afraid of what her reaction would be when she saw him again.

Finally, knowing he had no choice but to face her sooner or later, he had returned.

When he had opened the door and found her sleeping, he took the opportunity to move towards her, his gaze unguarded and as he let it sweep over her, going from her chestnut hair to the curve of her cheek and he suddenly noticed that she had been crying.

A lot.

Concerned, he had leaned down then, brushing away some of her tears with the back of his fingers, lingering against the softness of her skin and wondering if losing her sister was the sole cause of them. Slowly he had removed his hand from her face and thought to stand up, but his eyes had slipped down to Momiji’s slightly parted lips, and, instead, he had felt himself leaning forward, drawn by the memory of the sweet softness he tasted each time he had kissed her.

He had stopped just inches above her though, hovering there, afraid that he might wake her up and afraid, too, of what he would see in her green eyes if he did. He had been completely caught off guard when her eyes had slid open of their own will while he was still poised above her. Panicked, he had shot backwards, but before he had managed to pull himself upright and away from her, he had seen her eyes light in recognition followed by a flash of something else.

As he had sought to put some distance between them, he had been struck by the realization of what that flash was. It wasn’t the fear he had anticipated and had tried to brace himself for, but patent, overwhelming, relief. He snorted derisively to himself as he remembered it.

How ironic.

While he had been worried about coming back, torturing himself over the very thought, she had been worried that he wasn’t going to come back.

Kusanagi had been dumbstruck for several moments by that revelation, but as he had continued to look at her, seeing the dark circles beneath her eyes and how small and battered she had looked, he had felt his anger at her foolish actions start to build once more, knowing that he had once again come close to losing her last night. Knowing that his anger was the last thing she needed to witness; the fragile look on her face a testimony to that fact, he had tried to keep it contained. But when she had told him that she could take care of herself, her words had goaded him into releasing it, and then she too had exploded, misunderstanding the heart of he had said.

He was sorry that it had happened, but he would take their exchange of angry words over the look of fear in her eyes any day. Now he just had to find a way to explain to her what he had meant, even though he’d rather not. But again he felt he had no choice, knowing that Momiji needed to understand how important she was, not just as the Kushinada but as the person she was. Kusanagi grimaced, not wanting to have to wrap his tired brain around how he was going to manage that without having an aneurysm, so he pushed the thought aside for now, and turned to trace Momiji’s steps up the stairs.

At the top, he paused, looking in the direction of Momiji’s room, and he noticed that her lights were out. She was probably fast asleep, he thought to himself, remembering how wiped out she had looked, and thinking of how he longed to crash headlong onto his own mattress, but knowing that he couldn’t until he took a shower. With a heavy sigh he turned, moving towards the bathroom, but he stiffened and stopped, looking back over his shoulder into Momiji’s room when he thought he heard a noise.

Straining his ears, he listened, but there was nothing. Shaking his head slightly, he opened the bathroom door and took a step inside, but turned right back around again, leaning out into the hallway and looking fixedly towards Momiji’s room again. He was sure he had heard something that time, he told himself, and without hesitating he softly started towards her room, listening intently as he went. He stopped just outside her room, his ear cocked towards the doorway, listening to the indistinct sounds of snuffling.

She was crying.

A lot.

And he didn’t really know if he wanted to go in. But his feet didn’t give him a choice as they propelled him forward, his body dragging reluctantly behind. She was huddled into a ball, turned away from the doorway so she didn’t see him standing there, watching her tremble in emotional turmoil.

"Momiji –" he began in a reluctant, quiet voice and then stopped as Momiji’s sobs abruptly broke off into a surprised squeak.

Momiji heard Kusanagi’s voice and she tried to stifle her sobs, hoping that he hadn’t heard them and willing him to go away. She held her breath, her body jumping in silent hiccups as the sobs tried to break free, and clenched her teeth, praying that he would think she was asleep and turn around and leave.

Leave! Leave! Leave! she prayed, silently hiccupping and feeling her face turn red from the lack of oxygen.

"Momiji -" Kusanagi murmured again, his voice just as soft, but this time, closer.

He wasn’t going away, she thought miserably and unable to hold her breath any longer she released it with a loud whoosh. A long uncontrollable sob shuddered free as she felt his weight sink onto the side of the bed next to her and her back went sliding towards him.

"Momiji –" he started again, but she interrupted him with a litany of apologies.

"I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!" she sobbed, her eyes squeezed shut in pain. "You’re right -" hiccup, "- I’m not a very good Kushinada -" hiccup. "My sacrifice would have meant nothing –" hiccup, "- it wouldn’t have brought Kaede back –"

"Momiji –" Kusanagi dropped a hand to her shoulder, wanting to hold her, but knowing that he couldn’t as long as he was still stained with Kaede’s blood.

"It’s all my fault! -" hiccup, "- Kaede told me to watch Noa – and I – I was afraid that Tamanasu – I saw her get hurt, and I thought- I just wanted to help her – and I – oh god," she sobbed, "I’m responsible for her death!"

"Momiji –" Kusanagi tried to insert once again, but her voice continued to override his.

"I wanted to help her, so I left Noa unprotected! –" hiccup, "- and Tamanasu would have gotten him if Kaede hadn’t stopped him – but – but – she was too close to him, and I – oh god!"

"Momiji –" Kusanagi attempted once more to interrupt her, his voice a little more insistent as his hand slid from her shoulder to smooth back the chestnut tendrils clinging to her damp cheeks and temples.

Momiji sobbed harder, "I’m so sorry! If I had done what she had asked, she would still be here! –" hiccup. "- I know how much she meant to you, Kusanagi!" her voice was swinging radically from low to high pitch as the words squeezed themselves out in between sobs.

"Momiji! –" He raised his voice over hers, but he still couldn’t get a word in edgewise as she continued her torrential outpouring of emotion.

"I wish that she could be here for you and –" hiccup, "- Mom and –" hiccup, "-Mr. Kunikida! - oh god!" she wailed, her small hands fisted, clutching against her chest, "I wish it had been me instead!

"No. Momiji –" Kusanagi’s hand went back down to her shoulder and he gripped it tightly, refusing to listen to her beat herself up anymore.

"I saw the way you looked at her at the iwatto. I had thought that – well, it doesn’t matter anymore – but now I know how long you have wished that she could be here with you! And - I can’t bear the thought of knowing that because of me, you’ll never see her again!"

"Stop it, Momiji –" but she wasn’t listening to him.

"I know how much you loved her Kusanagi! - How much you still love her! "

"No, Momiji, I don’t think you do," he said, finally having had enough.

Abruptly pulling her onto her back, he leaned down, his elbows resting on either side of her shoulders, and then he softly brushed his lips over hers, feeling them tremble beneath his touch. She hadn’t been willing to listen to his words, so perhaps she would listen to his body instead.

Momiji’s eyes shot open at the unexpected warmth of contact, and the fresh sob that was rising in her throat sputtered out and died, a small squeak taking its place. Satisfaction at having been able to dry her tears coursed through Kusanagi as he brought his leather clad hands up to cup her face, suddenly wanting desperately to touch her, his need stretching beyond the original intent for kissing her.

With his thumbs, he traced the path of tears, his mouth tasting the salt of her sorrow as his lips feathered across her cheeks before once again finding their way back to her mouth to move subtly across the soft contours of her lips. Kusanagi stifled a groan as his body started to tighten against his will and he struggled against the desire to deepen the kiss, determined to keep his touch nothing more than a light caress, wishing only to comfort her.

Momiji’s green eyes remained wide open, staring into Kusanagi’s face, so close to hers. The soft shadows and the fading light played across the planes of his features making him all the more alluring to her, and she absently noted that he had his own eyes closed. As he continued to kiss her, Momiji felt confusion begin to override her sorrow, and she struggled to understand what was happening.

Why was Kusanagi kissing her, when he was in love with Kaede? Was he seeking to find some small piece of Kaede within Momiji? Momiji tried earnestly to string two coherent thoughts together, but as Kusanagi’s lips continued their soft but insistent assault against hers, she found her thoughts swallowed by the fluttering sensation in her chest and the familiar heat that began to flow outward from the pit of her stomach.

Feeling her begin to relax, Kusanagi slowly pulled away, but remained hovering above her, his hands smoothing her hair away from her face as he stared solemnly down into her storm-tossed green eyes.

"Momiji, what happened at the iwatto with Kaede was not your fault – No –" Kusanagi put a long finger lightly against Momiji’s lips as she opened them to protest, unwilling to let her interrupt him. "You were just trying to help her. You would never have left the…baby -," Kusanagi paused, his voice becoming strained as he spoke the word ‘baby’, still having difficulty accepting the Aragami child "- if Kaede hadn’t been in some kind of trouble. I’m sure she would have done the same if it had been you instead of her. - And even if Tamanasu had been unsuccessful in his attack against her, you must have seen that her death here was inevitable – No –" he said again when Momiji reached up and tried to pry his finger loose so she could speak. "- let me finish Momiji! " he demanded, becoming a little exasperated, " – Kaede had no intention of remaining here for anyone, least of all me –"

He broke off once again, this time, because Momiji was mumbling against his finger, despite his efforts to keep her silent, finding it impossible not to respond to his words.

"But, I saw the way she looked at you – and the way you looked…at…her!" Momiji blurted out miserably, still confused.

At Momiji’s words, Kusanagi sat back, remembering what Kaede had said to him at the iwatto.

But even now, remembering her wistful admission, he shook his head. She held an affection for him, Kusanagi thought, but she was in love with Susano oh. And Kusanagi – well, Kaede would always have a special place in his heart, but he wasn’t in love with her, either. Not now, at any rate, and he began to doubt that he truly ever had been.

It was just as he had told Kaede: she was the reflection of Kusanagi’s future. But Kusanagi couldn’t tell Momiji that, he thought in alarm. At least, not now. Not yet. Jeez, just thinking about it gave him a creeping, claustrophobic sensation in his chest.

But he had to tell her something.

Looking down at Momiji’s anxious expression, he swiveled around, bringing his legs up onto the bed and leaning back against the headboard, trying to give himself some time to think of the best way of saying what he wanted to say, without making himself too uncomfortable. Kusanagi crossed his arms in front of him, took a deep breath, and then began.

"You need to understand that for the longest time, Momiji, Kaede was my life," as he softly spoke the words, he could see the pain, instead of lessening was growing in Momiji’s eyes, and he hurried on, before she started crying again, "she was my family, Momiji. - The only family I had. It would be strange, don’t you think," he asked looking down at her, "for me to have watched her all of those years and not have feelings for her?"

He seemed to be waiting for her to respond so Momiji took a deep breath and murmured numbly "I understand, Kusanagi –"

"No, Momiji, you don’t," he replied, running a hand through his hair in an agitated way, "I can see that you don’t. Kaede is a special girl, and her life was never meant to be shared with me -"

No, dammit! That’s not what he wanted to say, he growled at himself, feeling idiotic. All he was doing now was reinforcing in Momiji’s mind the attachment that he had to Kaede. He needed to try something else. Uncrossing his arms, he put his hands on the mattress and scooted down until he was lying flat on the bed, his head on the pillow next to Momiji’s. Then he rolled over onto his side and propped up on one elbow, so he could look down at Momiji .

She was busily twisting her fingers around and around in the sheet pulled up to her breasts, seeming suddenly shy now that he was stretched out so close to her. Kusanagi silently watched her for a few moments, his eyes following the nervous movements of her fingers before sliding back to her face to hold her gaze, letting the heat gather in his eyes, wanting her to see it, willing her to acknowledge it for what it was: his desire for her and no one else.

"Momiji," he began softly, almost seductively and smiled to himself as Momiji bit her lip, proving that she was extremely aware of him, feeling the desire in him. "In all the time that I protected Kaede, it was always from afar. I never dared approach her. I never talked to her and I never touched her."

He lazily reached out and softly stroked Momiji’s face with the back of his hand, slowly tracing the line of her jaw to her chin. His gaze never left her face, and he saw her eyes widen almost imperceptibly as he provocatively flipped his hand over and trailed his fingertips from the contours of her chin, down the smooth column of her neck where he let them come to rest against the rapidly beating pulse at its base.

"B-but I’m sure that you must have –" Momiji stammered.

"Wanted to?" Kusanagi supplied smoothly for her, one eyebrow raised in slight inquiry.

Not ready to answer her question, he moved his hand upward and away from her neck, grazing the sensitive skin behind her ear with his thumb as he splayed his fingers through the smooth texture of her hair, rubbing its silkiness between his fingers. It felt so soft and he knew that if he leaned forward, he would be able to smell its honeysuckle fragrance.

Careful! Came a warning voice in the back of his head. He was walking a thin line, and if he weren’t cautious, he would step right over and forget what he was trying to prove. Attempting to clamp down on the fires beginning to rage in his body, he tried to force himself to remove his fingers from Momiji’s hair, but found he couldn’t summon up the willpower to do it. Instead, he decided to torture himself some more before he tried to answer Momiji’s question.

Still propped on his elbow, Kusanagi leaned into her, allowing his cheek to almost touch hers and he closed his eyes and breathed in, almost groaning aloud as her scent filled his nostrils.

Concentrate, he silently ordered himself, and forced his eyes open.

"Did I want to be with Kaede? To touch her?" he whispered his breath warm against her ear, "the way that I am touching you? Is that what you want to know, Momiji?"

Momiji opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out when Kusanagi pressed his lips against her ear and started to nibble on it. She was finding it more and more difficult to breathe, and speech of any kind was beyond her at the moment. Then he began to slide his lips along her jaw line, angling his mouth across her cheek to graze against her lips.

This time his eyes were open like hers and Momiji could see the desire banked within their depths as he opened his mouth across hers and began to kiss her hungrily, almost desperately. Momiji’s breath was coming in small gasps and she closed her eyes, drowning in the sensations that Kusanagi was stirring within her, opening her mouth to his onslaught, his tongue slipping inside her mouth as she did so. A small whimper escaped from Momiji, and Kusanagi began to gentle the kiss, but taking his time, not wanting to let her go. Slowly, he finally lifted his lips from hers, but remained as close as he could to her without touching her.

"Did I want to be with Kaede? To touch her?" he repeated again, ready to answer her question at last, and added, "It would be a lie, Momiji, if I said that I had never felt that way," he whispered, something almost like regret sounding in his voice at having to say the words.

Kusanagi’s statement struck her hard despite his effort to be gentle, and Momiji stiffened, feeling the tears start to once again pool in her eyes. Kusanagi sensed her reaction and he pulled back enough so he could see the expression on her entire face.

"Kaede was all that I knew, Momiji. And everything about her fascinated me because I knew of nothing else, because I had no one else. Did I want to be with her? Yes, I used to think about what my life would be like if I could reach out and touch her, even talk to her. Do I still feel that way? No. I don’t. Not even remotely."

"But –"

"No ‘buts’, Momiji," Kusanagi replied softly but unequivocally. "Even now, when I think about it, I can’t believe that I ever truly felt that way. - Kaede was my family, but I don’t love her like –" Kusanagi abruptly broke off, biting his tongue as he realized what he had almost blurted out. " –that," he substituted quickly. "I don’t love her like - like a man is supposed to love a woman. Even if she had remained now or if she had never left, I would never have pursued those feelings that I had so long ago, Momiji. They mean nothing to me now. She means nothing to me . I do not love, Kaede!" He stressed each word as he spoke them, his eyes fierce as he stared down into hers. "Do you understand, Momiji?"

He kept his fingers cupped around her face while Momiji stared up at him, the pain in her chest lessening.

"Y-yes, I understand," Momiji murmured and watched Kusanagi slump in relief.

He leaned forward again and gave her one more, light kiss before rolling away from her. He was suddenly anxious to get away, knowing that if he didn’t, blood stains or no blood stains, he wouldn’t be able to stop the sexual frenzy he had managed to engender in his body as he had tried to convince Momiji that he didn’t love Kaede.

"Good. I’m glad you finally understand," he breathed somewhat strained, "now try to get some rest, Momiji," he ordered and retreated rapidly from her room, heading back towards the bathroom to turn the cold water on full blast.

Momiji’s mouth fell open at his hasty retreat, but she had no complaints. He wasn’t in love with Kaede, she murmured to herself, feeling relieved as she turned over and tried to close her eyes to go to sleep.

But sleep wouldn’t come.

Despite Kusanagi’s assurances to the contrary, Momiji still felt responsible for Kaede’s death, and her feelings of guilt mingled with the heightened awareness of her own body that Kusanagi had stirred within her, leaving her to toss and turn restlessly, still so tired, but suddenly unable to rest.

"Kaede," she murmured, "I’m so sorry."

Momiji mentally pictured her sister’s dark, blue-black hair and green eyes and wished that she could see her again, to talk to her, and then, felt a surge of excitement as a thought occurred to her.

Maybe she could still see her, Momiji reflected. Perhaps if she went to the iwatto and performed her Ritual of Purification, she might be able to reach her and talk to her like she had with Susano-oh. It would be worth a try anyway, she decided, feeling even better than before. She would go tomorrow and if the TAC had pulled out, she would try it. Feeling satisfied with her decision, she closed her eyes and heaved a peaceful sigh, a tranquil expression spreading across her face.

It last for all of two minutes.

Then her brow wrinkled into a frown and she growled in frustration.

"Well, crap," she huffed and abruptly sat up.

Swinging her feet over the side of the bed, she reached for her robe, still unable to sleep. The sole reason for her dilemma now was the memory of Kusanagi’s lips moving across hers. She couldn’t get it out of her head and remembering it was only feeding the energy thrumming through her. Standing at the edge of her bed, she leaned her head back and groaned, still unable to squelch the memory.

Momiji looked to the window. It was still light out, but just barely, she observed. Maybe if she put something into her empty stomach, it would help to settle her down. With that thought in mind, she shoveled her arms into the sleeves of her robe and then felt around for her slippers. Padding wearily out of her room, she dragged her body down the stairs and trudged towards the kitchen.

She automatically turned the light on and then plodded slowly over to the refrigerator opening it to stare blankly at its contents. She really was hungry, she thought, but she felt too tired to put any effort into making anything. With a sigh, she shut the refrigerator and went over to the stove. Maybe if she made herself some hot sake, it would help her to sleep, she decided. With a yawn, she pulled out the seldom used bottle of sake she kept for special occasions and poured some of its contents into the kettle on the stove, waiting with drooping eyes for it to get hot.