“Maybe we should break up.”
She clenched her jaw at what she said, she tried to stop it but tears were already streaming down her face. Where did they go wrong? They were so in love. But, were, are they not in love now? They have never said anything, even during serious arguments, which were along the lines of splitting. The notion did not occur to either of them, and she thought it would never happen. But here they were, sitting across from each other in the café she had opened.
The coffee had long gone cold, she was too afraid to look up, too afraid to see his face and too afraid to accept what she had said.
“You do not love me anymore.” It came out as a statement, not a question. Her ebony tresses violently swayed as she shook her head, fresh tears hitting her face as she clenched her hands. There was a long silence as she soaked in the pain, she couldn’t talk, and she didn’t want to leave him but—“No.” He said firmly.
She blinked her tears away and looked up at him.
“What do you mean no?” Her voice was breaking as disbelief filled her words.
“No, it is final.” His voice was laced with frost; face unreadable as he stared straight into her slightly swollen blue-grey eyes.
“You have no right to say no.” She was seething, “No. Right.” She spat out.
“You belong to me. I have every right.”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously, “I don’t belong to you. I belong to me! I deserve to be me! I deserve—”
“Someone better?” He finished it for her, eyes turning dark.
“I didn’t say that,” She mumbled quietly, “But I can’t do it. I just can’t.”
“You can.”
“No, I fucking can’t, Sesshomaru.” She tried so desperately to stay calm.
He said nothing and watched the woman he loved in front of him slowly break. It was a long time since she had cried; so long that he barely remembered her being sad. But, the strong, independent, kind and beautiful woman he loved had broken down, her body visibly shook as waves of tears and sorrow assaulted his own senses.
“We need to break up.” Her voice was firmer this time.
“We are not breaking up.”
Her breath was hitched in her throat as she said the next words, “Then you need to break up with her.”
He pressed his mouth into a thin line, “I cannot.”
“Please Sesshomaru, we can work it out some other way—”
“It was arranged, mating her is necessary if I want to inherit the empire.”
This time she broke into a silent sob, “Then there is nothing more to talk about.”
She stood to leave, grabbing her coat and her bag. By now he had also stood and as she turned to walk past him towards the door he grabbed her wrist, “Kagome..” His voice was almost pleading.
Managing to push the tears aside, she accomplished a grim smile.
“Good bye, Sesshomaru.”
And that was when she knew, power meant everything to him. Even more than she did.
.
.
He had desperately called, left over a dozen voice mails and more than twenty missed calls. The moment she had left the coffee shop he thought to give her a few days, maybe then they could talk about it again. However, any type of contact with her had been made in vain, not seeing her for more than two days had already strained him.
Sesshomaru just left the café that she had opened a year ago, a sign pinned the front, permanently closed. It was a workday and he was sure that she would be in—he knew her and she would never neglect her own business. The sign greatly surprised him and he immediately called the realtor in charge of the property. The man did not have much information to disclose, only that Ms. Higurashi decided to close the business and had left the settlements and payments needed, making the realtor in charge of leasing it out again.
He mentally cursed as he sped towards her apartment, it was close by, she had moved, wanting to be within walking distance to her café. He parked in his usual reserved spot, and sped into the building and up the stairs, waiting for the elevator proved to be too long. By the time he reached her floor, he had the spare key in his hands and swiftly inserted the key, familiarly turning it a few times. It clicked open and he pushed inside.
It was empty. Exceptionally empty. Sesshomaru did not know what to expect, but he had hoped—prayed—that it would not be like this. The usually vibrant and homey atmosphere has been reduced to barrenness; majority of the furniture was covered in white sheets and her walls left unbearably empty, various photography and abstract artworks were absent.
He quietly walked through the apartment, not bothering to switch on the lights as he headed towards her room. Their room. A box met his gaze on top of the bed, as he lifted one of the flaps, they were all his items and ones that he had gifted her. He swiped the box across the room in anger; the contents hit the wall aggressively and fell, various items spluttering out.
His eyes rimmed red as he scanned the rest of the room, how dare she, he growled to himself. He held on to his control, which was threatening to rip the room—the whole building even—apart.
Sesshomaru walked back out, trying to find a lingering scent, even a trace of her existence. But he smelt nothing, only cleaning agents as he stalked throughout her apartment for anything, even a piece of clothing. Her cleaning had been thorough; her eradication of her scent was methodological.
That was when he realised, she had meant it when she said goodbye.
She made sure to disappear from his life.
.
.