First and foremost, I must extend great and heartfelt thanks to all of my reviewers. You guys really give me faith in my own writing abilities, honestly. Keeping everyone in-character is the most difficult task for me to do, and the encouragement I've received from everyone on that very topic really keeps me going. *bows* very very grateful, is this author...

Chapter 3: More Than One Kind of Curiosity

"Give the woman to me," Sesshoumaru's tone left no room for argument.

Inuyasha, acknowledging that his brother's intentions were sincere, reluctantly relinquished his hold on Kagome's body. Sesshoumaru gathered the miko into his arms and strode down a long corridor that led to two ornate, mahogany doors, their gilded handles bound by a strange chain. The daiyoukai passed a hand over the barrier, youki pulsing from his fingertips; the bond fell away and the doors slowly opened, revealing a cavernous alcove that flickered with a warm, golden glow, lit by hundreds of miniature candles. In the very centre was a gigantic fountain, bubbling and gurgling with cream-coloured liquid that caught and reflected the light of the flames. Shelves upon shelves of herbs and medicines lined the perimeter of the walls; youkai of all kind and colours flitted about, mixing, stirring, sampling, testing. As their lord approached, they turned and bowed, and if any demon had expressed surprise at the sight of Sesshoumaru carrying a oddly-garbed human woman in his arms, it was quickly repressed, for Sesshoumaru's youki had already permeated the room, repressive and dominant, making it clear that any unwarranted questions would not be tolerated.

She was so light in his arms. Light and frail and weak; how she had managed to survive against so many years of unceasing demonic attacks was truly a miracle. He could easily snap her throat like a toothpick right this moment, if he so desired….and yet, there was muscle beneath her skin, strength in her shoulders, a distinct definition and suppleness to her limbs. For a moment, Sesshoumaru let his youki penetrate into her reserves of power, just a brief, passing inquiry. Topaz eyes widened imperceptibly; while most of it was being steadily expended to stabilize the miko's ravaged body, there was still a vast reservoir of it inside of her, an astounding well of power that came close to rivaling his own.

Not a miracle after all, he thought. She had survived Naraku's assault after all these years for a reason.

Uncharacteristic curiosity lingered in his veins. He shifted his grip on her and probed deeper, analyzing her power. It seemed she only knew how to access a little less than a tenth of it; most of the raw, coiled reiki he sensed within her was crammed into that reservoir, untouched, pristine. For a human could possess so much power….he needed to be wary of her. Experience had long since taught him that humans, or any creature who wielded immense amounts of power almost always succumbed to corruption or greed.

The miko's head swayed to the side in his arms. Jet-black hair fell away from her smooth, white neck, fanning across his wrist. Narrowing his eyes, Sesshoumaru shifted his grip and ran the point of a lethal claw across her throat. A small trickle of crimson beaded and welled at the mouth of the scratch, and the iron scent of her blood flitted across his senses.

Disgustingly fragile. And yet this body houses such power.

"Sesshoumaru-sama?" A tall inu-youkai approached, clothed in a deep blue haori. "May I assist you in any way?"

Sesshoumaru, startled out of his thoughts, resisted the urge to growl as he held out the miko's limp body to the demon. "This miko has been seared by the acids of a moth youkai. Heal her, and ask no questions."

The latter statement was shot through with steel, and the demon understood. With a low bow, he accepted the woman and strode swiftly to the fountain, his claws already rending what little clothing had not been melted away by acid. Sesshoumaru turned to go, and the last vision he saw of the miko was the swell of one bare shoulder and the alabaster curve of her arm, twisted and disfigured by poison, dangling lifelessly by her side as the healer submerged her body in the cleansing waters.

xXXx-xXXx

Kagome awoke, feeling an odd sense of disconnect from her surroundings and her senses. Finding she could move her fingers, she rubbed her eyes to clear the muzziness from her head, and that's when she noticed it.

My hands….they're healed?

Cerulean eyes widened in pleasant surprise as she held up her arms for inspection. Gone was the charred skin, the corroded flesh. There weren't even any bandages; instead, smooth, healthy skin sheathed her forearms and hands, which were whole and supple, and, she discovered upon giving each of her fingers a nervous wiggle, completely functional. Kagome grinned and resisted the urge to squeal with glee. She was alive! She was all better! She was—

"Oh, Kami." She gasped as the reality of her surroundings fully sank in.

She was sitting—no, floating, really, was the word, since everything felt so light and comfortable—in the largest bed she had ever seen. Intricate Japanese screens decorated the room; the shelves, drawers, and small table in the corner all looked like they had been carved from rosewood and cedar. Sunlight streamed in through the windows of a beautiful set of mahogany double-doors that were slightly ajar, and through the crack, she could see the alabaster railings of the balcony outside.

It was beautiful. It was exquisite. It was immensely confusing.

The feeling of silk on her skin made her look down at her garments. She was wearing a simple white yukata with what looked like small, indigo irises embroidered on the shoulders and sleeves. A quick assessment of the rest of her body confirmed that she was fully healed, and when she reached inside to check her reiki, she found that it was much calmer, and had a smoother, almost liquid feeling to it when she attempted summoning a smidgen into her fingertips. Stunned, and a little bit in awe, Kagome let a drop of her power form in the middle of her palm, and was just beginning to enjoy the sensation of simmering reiki when the door to her room opened with a click. She hurriedly extinguished the ball of energy and tucked her hands under her sheets.

A light pressure that was his signature presence washed over her, and Sesshoumaru glided into view, his cold, topaz eyes hooded, betraying nothing. Kagome respectfully quelled the tsunami of questions that threatened to burst from her mouth. Sesshoumaru, from what she could garner, was an immensely patient youkai, and she was sure he would soon answer her questions. Whatever he didn't answer, she mused wryly to herself, with a little brownnosing here and there, she would find the answers to anyway.

He was impressed by her control. What her face vaguely betrayed, her scent practically screamed: anticipation, confusion, wonder, and curiosity, all wrapped up in a layer of nervousness. She had questions, did this miko, and yet unlike Rin, with her perpetual candor, she held them back, and simply settled for waiting. He took in the sight of her sleep-rumpled hair, shining almost mischievously in the sunlight, the healthy glow of her pristine skin, the restless fidgeting of her hands. Despite her body's nervous display, there was nothing of it in her large, luminous eyes, eyes that continued to stare at him with unabashed expectancy.

Blue. How curious a colour, unusual for a human.

"You have been healed." His honey-smooth baritone washed over her unexpectedly and she couldn't help a twitch of surprise.

"Yes I have," she ventured cautiously after a moment's hesitation. "I'm…back to normal, pretty much."

Sesshoumaru did not respond. Feeling a little bold, Kagome pressed on, deciding a question or two couldn't hurt.

"Where are we?"

"You currently sojourn at the Palace of the West." Sesshoumaru replied. "As for your condition," he pressed on as Kagome opened her mouth, another question poised on the tip of her tongue. "My healer has eliminated all wounds and lacerations, rendering you, once more, whole."

Kagome chewed on her lip, processing the information. "Would it be too forward….could I ask you to thank him for me?" She asked timidly.

The ice of his impassive gaze made her shiver. He scrutinized her silently for a moment, and just as she started to fidget, he turned away. "This one will see to it that the message is relayed."

A silence stretched between them. Sesshoumaru was turned away from her, his gaze distant, staring out beyond the precipice of the balcony through the crack in the doors. Kagome took the opportunity to slant a glance at the daiyoukai. There was an ethereal quality to him that was almost destructively gorgeous. She surmised that if she stared at him for too long, it would be like staring into the sun: blinding, and painful.

"What will you do with me now that I'm…well…better?" Kagome asked, shifting a little under the sheets.

It was a question the answer to which even he did not know. The miko was in perfect health, and therefore free of obligation toward him—and likewise, he of her—but there was something oddly distasteful about the notion of returning her to her village quite so soon. Sesshoumaru construed it would cast a feeling of flippancy over the entire series of circumstances; after all, it was not often that visitors disturbed the Palace of the West.

Her power, too. If he detained her for longer, perhaps he could further assess the breadth and magnitude of her power.

Rin chose that moment to burst through the doors of the bedroom, tiny hands clutching the largest persimmon Kagome had ever seen. Seeing that the priestess was awake, Rin's face split apart into a toothy smile, and she clambered up onto the bed, thrusting the fruit into Kagome's hands.

"Good morning, Kagome-san! Rin is glad you're awake! Rin went down to the gardens and—"

The child's voice trailed off as Sesshoumaru shot her a disapproving glare. Her smile flickered a little, then switched back on with intense concentration.

"I mean…..I….went down to the gardens to pick you a persimmon." Rin enunciated carefully, correcting her mistake. Sesshoumaru turned his gaze away, and the girl took that as permission to continue. "And it was the biggest and the BEST persimmon! I thought you deserved it because you were so brave when you protected Ri—me the other day."

Kagome giggled, thoroughly amused. There was something so endearing about seeing Sesshoumaru, feared and respected Lord of the West, being mindful of his ward's faulty grammar. Ironic, too, she thought with a whimsical smirk, since the daiyoukai seemed to have the same habit of referring to himself in third person. Rin's overzealous effort to correct herself was just too sweet, and watching the two interact brought a trickle of joy to her that warmed her insides as much as the morning sun warmed her skin.

"Inuyasha-san isn't here right now," Rin continued to blithely deliver her report. "He went to hunt you something for breakfast, I think. In the meantime, would you like to see the rest of the castle? It's reaaaalllyyy biiiig."

Amused, Kagome ruffled the girl's soft, brown hair. "That's a lovely thought, Rin, but I'm sure Sesshoumaru-sama wouldn't appreciate strangers poking unwanted noses into all the corners of his palace."

Had she obliged the child's request, his opinion of her would not have changed. The fact that she was considerate of his territory and privacy made him think twice about her character, and Sesshoumaru found it slightly unnerving that she was constantly surprising him with her meticulous manners and tact. She was not meek, like most human women he had encountered. There was steel behind her actions, confidence behind her words, but she was careful of both, mindful of his culture and breed.

Perhaps he had been wrong in his judgement of her, a thought that brought him a twinge of ire, because he, Sesshoumaru, was rarely wrong.

"You are permitted to explore the gardens, and select rooms in the north wing of the castle." He said, trying not to be too preoccupied by the scent of tangerines and honeysuckle that wafted through the room, testament to the miko's surge of happiness at his words. "A summons shall be sent for you when the half-breed returns from his hunt."

Kagome slipped off of her mattress and took Rin's hand, extending her head in a bow. "My thanks, Sesshoumaru-sama. We will be careful not to disturb any palace activities." She promised, lightly leading the child from the chamber.

Sesshoumaru remained in the room long after they had left. Rarely had he ever ruminated so extensively about a single circumstance, or individual. The miko was walking conglomeration of contradictions and mysteries. Her strange clothing was so completely inappropriate, yet he could smell her purity, her innocence. Her accent was foreign, yet cultured and pleasing to the ear in a way so refined and different from even the lower youkai of his court. She was soft yet strong, mouthy yet reserved, irritating yet—

Yet what?

She had piqued his curiosity; that he could acknowledge. Certainly her reiki, and her cultivation and steady refinement thereof had earned his attention.

Enough. She was nothing else, he concluded decisively. She was unusual. So were a lot of other anomalies the world had to offer. There was nothing unique about her uniqueness. She was just another phenomenon, just another being—odd, and out of place, in character, in disposition, in power.

It frustrated him nearly to the point of anger that she was constantly the subject of his thoughts, but somehow, he could not bring himself to erase her from his mind.

xXXx-xXXx

The deer on his shoulder was a satisfying weight. Callused feet drummed the ground in a steady lope as Inuyasha made his way through the forest back to the palace, the thrill of the recent hunt still fresh in his veins. The hearty venison, brimming with nourishment and energy, would be good for Kagome, still weak from her treatment. Hopefully, her recovery would be swift, and then they could return to the village, away from the foreign walls of the palace, away from the detestable presence of his half-brother.

He smelled it, then. It was very faint, but it was there, and through its rich, iron tang leaked a coating of desperation and death. Inuyasha halted in his tracks, his white head turning to catch another whiff of the trail. It was the scent of a youkai, and it was close.

The hanyou darted through the trees, sniffing as he went. He began to notice spatters of blood upon the ground, dark and viscous. As he followed them, they grew redder and fresher until finally he rounded a corner and nearly stepped in a pool of crimson. A demon was slumped in the middle of it, gasping and wheezing, its body broken and torn. Its vivid, green eyes swiveled frantically; as they alighted upon Inuyasha, the demon twisted, groaning, and reached out a clawed, broken arm to the stunned hanyou.

"Please…." It rasped, the plea more an expulsion of air than a word. "Please…..the palace….hurry…."

Without a word, Inuyasha closed his hand around the offered arm, slinging it over his shoulder and bracing his legs as the demon slumped against his side. Fangs gritted, the hanyou strained to carry both the deer and the demon towards the outline of the palace in the distance. The youkai was fading fast, and Inuyasha had a feeling it had important information to relay.

xXXx-xXXx