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Needless to say, Kagura was startled.

She wasn't prepared for the half-naked man sitting on the lip of the bathtub, face glistening with tears. She was glad she hadn't walked in on him going to the bathroom, or even more embarrassing, completely naked. Kagura flushed a deep, stinging maroon as her eyes greedily and quickly sucked him in. Water flecked his muscled ivory arms and spread faint fingers over his chest. Such a wide, wide chest, bookended between such wide, wide shoulders. Such a beautiful body... She averted her eyes before her thoughts went any further.

Yuki fixed her with a piercing glare after he got over his shock. He angrily swiped at his cheeks so that they were somewhat dry. "What do you want?" he barked.

Kagura flinched. Such a cruel tone, so sharp and crisp. The younger boy had never spoken to her this way before. Her eyes melted over the glaring red wound on his cheek. It looked pretty bad, and swollen too. He has every right to be upset, she told herself firmly. I threw an egg at his face. If it were me in his place, I would have me assassinated. Although I'm not important enough to be assassinated. So I would probably hire a hit man. Or do the deed myself. But that's beside the point!

The reason why she'd thrown the egg shot back at her. When she had made the visit she was already having a terrible day. She'd gotten a failing grade on her term paper and she'd had an argument with her mom. She went to Shigure's house to find solace in the colorful occupants of the noisy, sunny home. But forgetful girl that she was, she had forgotten that Yuki would probably be there as well. Fortunately, at the time he wasn't home. He had gone to the supermarket to buy some milk. She knew this because of the bulging white plastic bag in his hand when he walked towards the entrance. Kagura had decided to be civil, reign in her fiery temper despite his frosty disposition towards her as of late, and say hello to him. After two weeks of silence, the game was getting old. It was time for them to act their ages and get past this, work it out, something.

And what did he do? He brushed past her like she was nothing! He even knocked her over and now her left ankle was sprained. Okay, it might be sprained, she didn't know for sure, but it hurt like a bitch, even if it wasn't severely injured. All Kagura knew was that on top of her crappy grades and her mom getting on her case about something or other, she had to go bother Hatori about her ankle. Oh, she was a pissed Sohma then, and the Sohma temper was nothing to fuck with.

She hadn't made the egg solely to throw at Yuki. No, Kagura was irrational but she was not an animal. She had boiled the egg because she was genuinely hungry. It wasn't a good idea to skip meals but she was on a diet. Eggs got a bad rap for being fattening, but right then and there she decided, Screw the diet. So she set upon the task of widening her waistline. No one would care anyway. It wasn't like she had a boyfriend to impress or anything. She filled the little pot with water and turned on the gas. Despite her lack of culinary skills, Kagura knew she could handle a boiled egg. She figured this would be a piece of cake. But when she picked up the pot to scoop out her boiled egg, she burned herself and dropped the still hot pot on her toe! Boiling water emptied out over the same foot that carried a banged up ankle above it. Tears gushed forth from Kagura's eyes, but she bit down hard on her lip to muffle the scream, so hard she tasted blood.

So now her lip was throbbing, her ankle was aching, her foot was half-burnt and sore and her thumb had been barbequed. That on top of her educational and personal issues had been too much for sensitive Kagura to take. (Oh, now that she thought about it, her mom was getting on her case about her grades. Huh. Go figure.)

The egg was cracked and a bit of crumbling egg white was showing. Choking back her pain, she picked up the extremely hot egg and put it in a little dish. She would eat this egg like a proper lady with her family, whether Yuki was there or not. She mopped up the water and rubbed some salve on her sizzling thumb. She dried off her foot and grabbed a spoon. She would go into the living room with grace and dignity. Yuki Sohma would not defeat her under any circumstances.

But when she went in, she felt out of place and angry. Tohru glided down the stairs, looking so pretty and perfect. Her hair wasn't a mess like hers and her jeans weren't soaked and brushed with dirt like hers either. She wasn't even wearing jeans. She was wearing a perfect, pretty pink dress.

Tohru went up to her and asked why she was wet and dirty, if she wanted to borrow her clothes, all of that but Kagura wasn't listening. Giving up after a long, looooonnngggg time, the optimist reluctantly trudged into the kitchen to get some riceballs. Yuki's eyes adoringly went after her. It did something weird to her stomach.

And then she came back in. She offered her a riceball, but Kagura declined, gesturing to her egg. Seeing his smiling, laughing face, cooing over something Tohru was saying, made her feel jealous and sick. He was acting like she wasn't even there! Not once had he even given her even a hint of acknowledgement. Well she'd make him look at her!

And that was when the egg fiasco began.

Really, Kagura's arm had moved on its own. She was so angry that she didn't even understand what she was doing until it was too late and the egg hurtled towards Yuki's cheek. She couldn't take it back and she was really sorry it had happened, but shit, if he would just look at her…

"Well? I said what do you want?"

Kagura flinched. His angry voice dragged back into the present by the ankle. He almost sounded like Kyo, the old Kyo. Kagura stiffened. The ice pack in her hand was melting but she didn't care. Let him wait. The asshole.

"You want me to smack that cheek again?"

Yuki towered over her menacingly even though he wouldn't lay a hand on her. "Is that a threat?"

"It's not a threat. I don't threaten. I make vows!"

"Oh, so you vow to slap my face?" he asked lightly. She detected a bit of disdain in his voice.

"Oh, so you're making fun of me? Am I a little kid?"

Yuki closed his eyes and sighed. He really didn't want to get into this with her. He wanted to talk to her, not put her down or insult her. Insulting her only made her defensive instead of willing to work things out.

"No, Kagura, you're not a little kid, but you're acting like one."

"I'm acting like one?! What, and giving me the silent treatment is so adult of you? Get over yourself, Yuki." She elevated her chin. When had he gotten so tall? And he smelled so good… But Kagura shook her head. Thinking about his physical attributes, pleasing as they were, wasn't conductive to her anger. She had dozens of choice words for the uppity asshole, but she let her eyes do the talking. Eat shit and die.

Yuki flinched. He knew that look. He wasn't personally acquainted with it, but it had been shot at Tohru many times the first time the two ladies met each other and Kagura had considered the optimist her Love Rival. Even though the gazes hadn't been directed at him, Yuki remembered feeling chills.

He'd tried being patient but this was too much. She had thrown the egg at him, and she had the nerve to snap at him. He was the one with the banged up cheek, not her. And for what? For not playing with Little Kagura? What gave her the right to get angry at him for no damn reason? She had a lot of nerve. Yuki was a good guy and he didn't like making girls cry or angering them, but he wasn't a push-over. She would soon learn that if she provoked him, he'd push back just as hard.

"What? Get over myself?! I'm not the one speaking in questions! If you have something to say, then say it."

"You want me to say it?! Okay then, I will!!" Kagura's heart rate was sky-rocketing and color infiltrated her face. Her breath came and went in ragged installments. She balled her hands into fists. Screw Yuki's face. With the way he was acting, Kagura didn't give two shits of a fuck. He wanted to be childish? Fine. She'd be just as immature. "I'm tired of the way you treated me!! The way you're still treating me!! Everything was just fine one day and then BAM! everything's shit! You wouldn't talk to me, you wouldn't hang around me, you wouldn't even look at me! So excuse me, Prince Yuki, if my behavior displeases you. I sincerely apologize!!" Kagura stepped back and made a show of curtsying. Her left ankle protested but she ignored it. When she came back up, she made it a point to smirk.

"Throwing eggs at people isn't my idea of model behavior," he spat, gemmy eyes that were usually so soft and peaceful now hard and uncaring.

Kagura lifted an eyebrow. "I don't give a flying fuck what you think. Act like a man for once and maybe I'll respect your opinion," she answered coolly. She smiled. She got a vindictive kick out of watching Yuki's whole face, even his ears, turn beet red. The boy ground his teeth, glaring hatefully at Kagura, which of course only made her smile even wider. Once she changed tactics and assumed the role of "Fuck you, I'm older" adult, Yuki became a little boy. Now he was the foolish one storming about, throwing a temper tantrum like a two-year-old.

Yuki uncurled his hands and struggled to regain what was left of his cool. By that satisfied smirk, he knew Kagura had the upper hand and wasn't too proud to flaunt it. The only way to beat her at her own game was to not give her what she wanted. What she was saying wasn't what she really meant. Kagura said she wanted him to be a man, but what she really wanted was for him to scream and yell and raise hell. That way, she could fold her arms over her chest and shake her head, smiling that "Isn't he adorable?" smile, and she would end up being the mature, superior one in this epic verbal war. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, slowly counted backwards, and let it out all in one whoosh. Now that he thought about it, Kagura's strategy was similar to Kyo's, excluding the changing tactics thing. He wasn't smart enough for such sophisticated methods, and anyway, goading was more his style. It was the only thing he could do. Yes, Yuki thought as he slowly smiled. This is just like a fight with Kyo, so I should treat it as such.

Kagura was a little taken aback but didn't let it show. Rule number one of winning an argument: don't let him see you sweat. She would defend herself with every scream her voice provided. And the girl could scream.

But before any of them could employ their brand-new strategies, a person appeared in the doorway. It was understandable that during all of this commotion, and in the bathroom no less, someone would come upstairs to investigate.

The intervention came in the form of a shocked Shigure. His brown eyes were wide and his mouth was agape as he stood in the hallway. And it was with good reason. Not only was Yuki, the Prince Yuki, gentleman to every woman and almost as patient as Hatori, yelling, but his hands were ground into fists and his face was flushed. He looked furious. And Kagura looked just as angry, if not more.

They whipped rage-filled eyes at the novelist. "WHAT?!" they barked.

Shigure would've leered, raised an eyebrow and said "What are you guys doing in the bathroom?" or something along those perverted lines, but all of his teasing died in his throat. Besides, he was too scared. And he had to pee. Shigure gave a little chuckle as he lightly squeezed his legs together. "Gotta use the Little Boys' Room," he offered weakly.

Kagura lifted her chin and smiled at him. Just because someone had interrupted them didn't mean the argument had to end so soon in this particular spot. Slowly she switched her way to Shigure, who was stepping back (and for good reason: her forehead was painted with a stream of dried blood and her hair was a mess). Her ankle argued with her and even her injured foot was getting into the fray but she didn't heed both of their differences. She leaned in slightly and roughly seized him by the front of his yukata.

"Kagura, stop scaring Shigure," Yuki ordered. He looked away to give a dry laugh to the wall. "You're not looking your best right now." But inside he was feeling sick. His skin felt odd and clammy. When he darted a look at himself in the mirror, he noticed his angry red flush had departed for white twinged with a sickly green.

"Little Boys' Room is right," she trilled, darting a withering glance back at her ex. "I'm tired of younger men." She smeared a flirty smile over her lips, still glaring at Yuki. Then she looked at Shigure. "Let's have sex," she dead-panned, eyebrow raised.

"What?!" Yuki stormed. A blood-red blush smeared itself over both cheeks as he widened his eyes. He had no idea Kagura could be so brazen. Talking so openly and casually about that… that thing was unbelievable. Not only that, but the idea of the two of them having—doing—engaging in intercourse was… awful. Yuki grimaced. No, not even softening the act with safe cushy words was working. An unpleasant mental image came to mind. He felt as if he'd been kicked in the groin and crucified. Yuki wrapped his arms around his stomach.

But Kagura saw none of this. She was too high off her win. Yes! she jeered when she heard his incredulous exclamation. Shigure's weak excuse of having to go write his novel was barely heard above her mental cheers. When he moved away, Kagura slung an arm around his waist and yanked him in. "Leave and you die," she murmured from the side of her mouth.

Poor Shigure was in a pickle. If he stayed, he risked getting beaten and castrated by Yuki, martial arts extraordinaire. If he left, he risked getting creamed by Kagura, lover of extreme and unnecessary violence and also somewhat of a martial artist virtuoso. Kagura-fu, that was what she specialized in: a plethora of battle techniques too horrific and strange to be of this world.

Shigure gently nudged at her hand. Better to have Kagura mad at him than Yuki. Not because he was sexist or anything, but because the male looked like he might like to make sure Shigure and Kagura didn't do anything vulgar with each other permanently after he shook off his dazed mood. And he was quite fond of his southern friend, thank you very much. Kagura wouldn't touch him there. Maybe kick him, but not take a blade to him. And so, with some incoherent excuse, he slipped away. All of him, and who was it thanks to? Why, him and his quick-thinking writing prowess, of course!

Shigure hummed as he skipped downstairs to congratulate himself on getting out of there alive the only way he could: with Tohru's delicious leftover riceballs! (Ah, he'd tell someone about the massacre later.) As for his bathroom problems… well, he didn't really have to pee so much anymore; the urine had dried up inside him due to fright. Funny since fear usually makes people want to piss their pants.

Meanwhile, the two were still at a stand-off upstairs.

Yuki couldn't rid himself of the shivery squeamishness that enveloped him. Sure, imagining Shigure having sex with anyone was enough to make him want to hurl, but for some reason, the thought of Kagura with that guy bothered him the most. But why? He was angry with her. They were at odds with each other. He didn't love her in any way but as a cousin (though that love was really being tested right now). So why couldn't he shake off this feeling? It just didn't make sense.

"You really would?"

Kagura blinked. She was caught off-guard by his soft voice. But she wasn't tallying this up as an advantage for either side. She had slid the argument to the back of her mind just for a second to really look at him. Now that Shigure wasn't there, she saw how sick he looked. His face was greenish-white save for his injury and his eyes were wide and shocked. Her anger wavered. She didn't want to really make him feel ill. A gnawing feeling called guilt chewed at the lining of her stomach, but she spoke above the nausea.

"What?" she asked cautiously.

Yuki stepped forward. "Would you really… with Shigure, would you really-- sleep with him?"

Bile rose in Kagura's throat. She had wanted to make him jealous but she hadn't thought he would actually put it past her. What kind of woman did he think she was? Did he think she was loose? Tears constructed building blocks in her eyes but she wouldn't let him see her cry. She turned her face into the most blistering mask of scorn and bewilderment he had ever seen. Lips trembling, she tried to maneuver her voice over the river of tears. "We're not together, so it's not considered cheating." Too late. Her voice was starting to drown. Hiccupping, she choked out, "If you think I'm that kind of woman, you must not know me very well." She threw the ice pack, now filled with only a few ice chunks and bloated with water, at his feet. "You know, I came up here to take care of your wound and to apologize. But now, I'm really glad I didn't."

She didn't wait for him to watch the complete collapse of her self-control.