Please enjoy reading!
Disclaimer: Honestly… Do I look rich enough to own anything even remotely related to Inuyasha? Not really, I'm afraid. So it's safe to say I don't. No matter how much I would like to, like probably a big part of the world population. Why do poor people like us never end up with the good ideas?
XXX
He was sitting in the living room. The comfortable couch only served to irritate him even further. It was too comfortable, too perfect. Perfection didn't exist. He had found that out only two days ago.
He was married. He had been for a few years already. He didn't know how long exactly, he had never cared much. His wife seemed to. She always used to make him something special on their anniversary. That thought made him sit up straight. He had the idea he had to do something, or he'd burst. The feelings piled up within him. Harshly, he slammed his fist into the couch before putting his head in his hands. He didn't know what to do anymore. Things shouldn't have gone the way they had. Everything somehow had been messed with, and now he was stuck. And he hated not knowing what he had to do to make things right.
It had all started out so simple. He had been rich and handsome, something everyone wanted to be. Males envied and respected him, females loved and desired him. No, not him. It was his money everyone looked at, his looks everyone cared for. No one cared for him. He had come to terms with that a long time ago. He had hated the fact, though, that everyone seemed to think that everything would be alright for them if they could get into his good graces. Especially the females were always after him.
One day, he had tired of that. His parents wanted him to marry and settle down, and therefore introduced him to every girl of around his age that they knew. And every single one of them had tried to get into his bed, both annoying him to no end and causing him to be disgusted.
Finally, they had found a young lady that didn't seem to care too much. For the reason alone that she was nothing like the others, he respected her some. This ended up in them agreeing to marry. There was no love or anything. He wanted someone that didn't love him, that didn't act like a complete whore to him. She did none of that. So, to put an end to the annoyances, he had proposed to the girl. He explained his reasoning to her. And although she had agreed, he still didn't know why exactly she had. He didn't care; the point was that she had agreed, and that everyone left him alone after that. Their ceremony was held in secret, small and intimate, and not many people attended. Later, they had announced it. Neither of them felt like having the press attend to their wedding, even if it was only because they didn't seal the wedding with a kiss but with a handshake, to symbolize the businesslike agreement it actually was.
Silently, he was happy with his choice for a wife. He didn't notice much of her and at first, he'd thought they would just keep living separate lives. Somehow, however, she had worked her way into his life. The girl would have dinner prepared for him every night and had asked him about his favourite foods, to make sure she wouldn't cook something he didn't approve of. They lived in one house, but they had separate bedrooms. The house was always neat and cleaned.
When he had first decided to seek for a bed partner, since he and his wife didn't do such things, she had waited up for him. Instead of yelling at him for doing something like that to her, she asked him if he would tell her when he would do that again, so that she wouldn't have dinner ready for him, then.
Always smiling, she managed to cheer him up even after his day had been horrible. She would ask him how his day was and get him to talk about the problem when there was one, which happened almost every day. Her mood never seemed to darken, brightening up his day as well. It was a nice change in atmosphere and he found he liked it.
She did perfectly well in public, too. They acted like a loving couple, and she was able to handle the popularity well. His business partners, as well, were impressed with the young woman he'd married. Always polite, she was the perfect wife. Everyone told him they were jealous that he'd found a woman like her.
It was around that time that he started getting interested in the woman he'd married. She was a beauty, everyone had to admit. He had never really realized it before, but she was also smart. During dinner, he would start getting into conversations with her, something they both enjoyed. His trips to other women lessened as he was looking forward to coming home to her and her wonderful cooking. She never really opened up to him, he knew, but he didn't really mind in the beginning. It started to bother him more and more.
The arguments started when he realized he had fallen in love with her. Love, to him, was a weakness. He started acting cold, staying out for longer more and more. At first, the arguments didn't seem important. Slowly, however, they became bigger, and about less significant things. He went back to the females he was with before, unable to take the tension inside the house that had started from that day. It only caused their arguments to become more heated, and it hurt him more than he let on to have arguments all the time.
That went on for a while. Then, when they had an argument one time, she was in the middle of a retort when her eyes opened wide. She had gone to her room then, leaving the whole argument unfinished. He himself left the house to go somewhere else, allowing her to cool off. She wasn't at home when he returned.
Every time they had an argument after that one time, the same thing happened. Later on, she would just leave immediately when they actually started yelling. And although it hurt him to think about it, he was sure she had found a bed partner as well to whom she went after their arguments, to have him comfort her.
Two days ago, he had followed her. She had gotten out of a cheap car she'd bought from his money, crying. He had followed her with his eyes intensely as she walked up to the door of a house, pretty far from the houses next to it. It had hurt him the most when, through her tears, she had grabbed the key to the house and opened the door. He had driven off after that, staying away all night before returning home.
She hadn't been there, and when she arrived that afternoon, he had locked himself up in his study, not willing to face her after his discovery yet. That evening, she had dinner ready right in time.
Both had ignored one another, resulting in a tense silence. None of them was willing to break it and cause another argument, however. He hadn't been able to sleep at night, worrying over what to do. When he'd seen her enter the house, it had hurt him. The worst thing about it was the fact that he hadn't allowed himself to admit that he loved her until it was obviously too late to do something about it. Other women just didn't satisfy him anymore and although they were married, they had agreed to let both of them do whatever they wanted when it came to significant others, knowing there was no love in their marriage. Or at least, there wasn't supposed to be.
He cursed himself for falling in love with the one woman that he couldn't get, no matter how close she was. He just didn't know how to act in front of her. His emotions conflicted with one another. On one side, he wanted to shower her with affection, show his love to her and make her love him in return. On the other side, however, he was still the same cold businessman he had been before. He found it hard to open up, even if he had done so with her more than he had to anyone for years, even his parents.
To him, she was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to him. On the other side, he didn't know how to handle a woman that didn't want anything from him. Every girl he'd ever met since he was rich and handsome wanted one of those two, but she didn't seem to mind. His wife didn't thoughtlessly spend his money, nor did she ask anything from him where it concerned a relationship. He had actually been the one to start conversing with her, thus causing them to get to know one another better and getting them into the trouble they were in at that moment.
Also, he knew he couldn't go back to how things were before. He had fallen for her, and although it hurt him to argue with her all the time, it was the only way to keep seeing her, to keep contact and knowing where she was most of the time. That was also the thing, however, that had driven her into the arms of someone else. Silently, he was ashamed of how he was feeling. He had been seeing others since they had been wedded and now that she had finally found someone else to get the love she undoubtedly deserved for being such a wonderful person, he was jealous.
The doorbell rang, and he almost thanked the person at the door for interrupting his train of thought. He walked over and opened it, revealing Sango. She smiled at him and invited herself in, walking past him to the living room. Puzzled, he followed her, wondering what she wanted.
Sango was a dear friend of his, almost a sister. He had later found out that she and his wife had been friends long ago, although they had lost contact with one another when Sango had to move and was unable to keep in touch. After they had talked about that, the two had rekindled their friendship. He had heard his wife had actually been the maid of honour at Sango's wedding, which he had not been able to attend due to a busy schedule.
Following her into the living room, he saw her sitting on one of the couches, looking around her. When he entered, her attention swung back to him. She smiled.
"So, how are things going?" she asked him. He saw her concern grow when he sighed and sat down on another couch. "Not good?" Her voice sounded sincere, and it caused him to explain everything to her.
Silently, Sango listened while he explained it all to her. He saw her worried look when he mentioned the arguments and spilled everything. With her, he was completely truthful. He admitted he'd fallen in love with his wife, but didn't know what to do. She was a mystery to him. He knew practically nothing of her, not having felt any real interest in it until it had been too late. He didn't even know his wife's own parents.
Throughout all of it, Sango listened attentively, not once interrupting him. It did look like she was about to interrupt him a few times, like the time he'd mentioned his wife's lover, but she allowed him to speak. He was grateful for that, knowing that, if he'd been interrupted, he probably wouldn't have been able to talk anymore. And when he had finally finished telling his story, he felt some sort of relief. He had told someone, he had admitted it all, and perhaps his friend would even be able to help him out.
Said friend smiled softly after he finished. "First of all," she said, smiling almost jokingly. "I think you're telling this to the wrong person. Second…"
Then, she was interrupted by the doorbell. He got up and went to get it. To his surprise, it was his wife that was standing there, smiling sheepishly, making her look cute in his eyes. She had obviously gone grocery shopping, since she was holding a few bags from the grocery store in her arms.
"I'm sorry, I forgot my key when I left," she told him softly.
But I bet you didn't forget the key to his house, did you? The thought alone angered him, and he glared at the woman in the doorway. "That was a stupid thing to do," he told her coldly. He had completely forgotten Sango, who was still sitting in the other room.
His wife glared back at him. Their argument early that morning had her running out of the house again, making her forget all about the key. He knew that, but it was either starting an argument or acting nice to her, and he didn't know what to do. So he settled for the easiest thing to do, something he had done for practically all his life. He started arguing. And she argued right back at him.
"Well, I wouldn't have, if you wouldn't have acted like a complete jerk," she told him, trying to step past him to put away the groceries. He wouldn't just let her go without getting back at her for insulting him, however.
"I'm not the one at fault, you were the one that started it in the first place," he snarled. She swiftly retorted, resulting in him yelling at her, and then her yelling back at him.
It became worse and worse. He realized it, but he couldn't help it as he yelled back at his wife. He didn't even know what he was saying anymore, their routine so practiced that he retorted automatically. He watched his wife as she screamed, her anger somehow not making her look ugly. The fire in her eyes challenged him like nothing else did.
Finally, the moment came. Looking closely, he could see the fire go out in her eyes as they widened in something that looked like shock. She was in the middle of a sentence when she stopped. His wife looked at him for a little longer before putting the groceries down and walking stiffly to her car. He almost reached out to stop her from going, but he knew he had no right. It was his fault, it was his loss. But he just felt so lost when she ran away from him once again. He didn't even notice Sango walking up behind him.
He jumped slightly when she put her hand on his shoulder. His friend looked at him sternly. "Get into your car. We're going to follow her." She left no room for arguments and went to his car, getting in on the passenger's side. He followed her, knowing he didn't really have a choice. He wondered what she wanted to reach with this. After starting the car, he drove after his wife's.
When they stopped, it was in a nice neighbourhood. The houses weren't really close together, with well-kept gardens. It was the same place he'd followed her to the first time. Once again, he sat watching as she walked up to the house, crying.
Once the door had closed behind his wife, his friend got out of the car, looking sorrowfully around her as she motioned for him to follow her. She walked up to the house, him behind her, and opened the door his wife had left unlocked. He felt a little uncomfortable, walking into a house that wasn't his and that at the moment probably housed both his wife and some other male. It was beautifully furnished, he noticed as he followed Sango deeper into the house.
To his surprise, she seemed to know her way around. Just when he was about to ask her about it, a soft voice interrupted. He had to strain to listen to what his wife was saying, but when he heard it, he was shocked.
Sobbing softly, she had started humming. Humming soon turned into singing. He had never known she could sing that well. Attentively, he listened to the words she was singing, unknowingly moving a little closer to where she was.
"Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side
So I don't get hurt
Because of you
I find it hard to trust
Not only me, but everyone around me
Because of you
I am afraid
I lose my way
And it's not too long before you point it out
I cannot cry
Because I know that's weakness in your eyes
I'm forced to fake a smile, a laugh
Every day of my life
My heart can't possibly break
When it wasn't even whole to start with
Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side
So I don't get hurt
Because of you
I find it hard to trust
Not only me, but everyone around me
Because of you
I am afraid
I watched you die
I heard you cry
Every night in your sleep
I was so young
You should have known better than to lean on me
You never thought of anyone else
You just saw your pain
And now I cry
In the middle of the night
For the same damn thing
Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side
So I don't get hurt
Because of you
I tried my hardest just to Forget Everything
Because of you
I don't know how to let anyone else in
Because of you
I'm ashamed of my life because it's empty
Because of you
I am afraid..."
The song spoke of agony, and his wife's voice even more. The lyrics told a story of their own, and he wondered at them. Were they real? Or was she just singing because she wanted to?
While he was thinking, Sango had moved forward, into the room his wife's voice had come from. Looking inside, he saw what he presumed to be the master bedroom, his wife lying on the bed, not moving as Sango approached her and sat down on the bed. She stroked his wife's hair as she continued crying. Then, his friend waved for him to enter the room as well, and he did, not knowing what else to do.
"I think it's about time the two of you talked about a few things," Sango told her friends. "Or would you like me to do the talking?"
Both shook their heads. They needed to talk about this themselves, or it wouldn't do much good. Understanding this, Sango left the two of them in the room while she went downstairs, probably going to get something to eat in the kitchen.
Asking the question that had been bothering him, he asked her why Sango kne w her way around so well. He didn't mention the key yet, afraid that such a question would ruin everything.
His wife sat up, facing him. He thought she still looked beautiful, even with the tears staining her cheeks. "This," she told him, waving her hand to indicate the whole house, "is where I grew up. As you know, Sango was my friend when we were younger. She visited quite a lot, so she would know her way around. I didn't change much after my mother died."
Understanding what she meant, he nodded. "This is where you went whenever we had a fight?" he softly asked her.
"Yeah. It was just…" It seemed she wasn't going to say any more, but then, she took a deep breath, determination shining in her eyes. "My parents had a lot of trouble. My mother was in love with my father, but not the other way around. He often cheated on her and they were always arguing. That hurt her a lot, and often, the two of us were home alone while he was with another. She didn't handle it well and was, most often, lying around in bed and generally being depressed. I had to take care of her a lot, and even when I was young, she saddled me with her problems. Eventually, she became a harsh, cold woman. She didn't care much for anything anymore, and not too long after, she killed herself. By then, my father was almost never home and I was old enough to inherit. He never showed up at the burial and I haven't seen him in years. I was always determined not to let that happen to me…"
"And yet it has," he added softly, and she nodded, her teary eyes not moving away from looking at the bedsheet. "That was the reason you agreed to marry me. It was a business transaction, no love involved. It would make sure that wouldn't happen to you." Another nod. "And now we're arguing all the time, and it's the same as with your parents." Another nod, and a tear escaped. "But it's not."
Her head snapped up, her eyes questioning. According to her, this was exactly the same. She loved him, he didn't love her, he saw other women, they argued all the time…
He bowed his head. "I think I have something to confess, now. When I first wanted to marry you, it was just to escape all of the other desperate women that would be looking for a steady relationship just because of my money or my power or my looks. Then, I became interested in what you were like. That took a while, but then I started instigating conversation. And… I found myself falling for you. This was threatening to me, as it has never happened before, and I started pushing you away once again. Therefore, I apologize for hurting you… In any way. I should have thought of you instead of only thinking about what mattered to me."
All this time, she hadn't said a word. She had only listened, her eyes wide open in shock at his confession. But it was easy to see he meant it, and a weight fell from her heart, making her feel lighter than she had ever remembered being.
Seeing the joy blossom in her eyes, he knew he had done the right thing by confessing. Although it was not easy for him to open up, she deserved it.
Looking into the other's eyes, both suddenly realized that they were moving closer to one another. For a moment, they didn't move. Then, his hand moved to her chin, tilting her face up. Her arms moved to the back of his neck as his lips descended on hers.
Their eyes closed in bliss, and they both knew everything would be just fine between the two of them. That was the last thing they comprehended, and then all thought flew out of the window with a mind-blowing kiss that told of all of their love for one another.
XXX
Ah… Now I feel a lot better. Happy endings always make me so happy. Hope you enjoyed reading and remember: life may be horrid but at least we have our stories :P