Band-Aids
by Cooking Spray
~*~*~*~*~
Chapter Two:
Papercut
Instead of blooming sing-song and golden across the feudal island, the morning settled in with a dispirited, dull pallor. Rogue birds chirped irregularly from their perches at intervals, but they failed to make music. Even though the premise wasn't the best to begin another expedition, nothing could spoil Kagome Higurashi's elation at finding a warm hot spring in the middle of the late-autumn chill.
"This is great!" Kagome heralded gleefully, shrugging off the top of her school uniform. All of the emotion of the previous night had been pushed out of mind with the coming of the new day. "What unbelievable luck. . . a hot spring right when we need one!"
Sango seemed to share some of her friend's mirth as well, undoing her armor with more enthusiasm than usual. "Yeah, we'd better take advantage of it while it lasts. . ." She aimed a nervous glare at the foliage. "I hope that perverted monk doesn't try to spy. . ."
Kagome pressed her fist to her mouth as a little chuckle escaped her lips. Sango was always so uptight. . . well, she really couldn't blame her with Miroku constantly feeling her up. But, this was their chance to relax, and who knows the next time they'd get to do that, so she opted for reassurance.
"Nah, I don't think he'll risk being a peeping Tom today. We made it pretty clear we'd like to have some privacy. Besides, Miroku isn't that bad of a person, really. . . fondling aside and all." Finally undressed, she slipped a towel around herself, awaiting the response.
"Not really that bad?! Kagome-chan, how can you say that?" Well, she tried. Sango began to shake, wrenching her towel in her hands and apparently forgetting where she was. "He's the most lewd, indecent, repulsive, vulgar, lying, cheapskate womanizing jerk, and just thinking about him makes me want to. . . makes me want to. . ."
Large bead of sweat at her forehead, Kagome tried to soothe her very vexed friend. "Er. . . relax, Sango. . . I'm sorry. Miroku's really not good at all, I take it back. Please, can't we just. . . soak now?"
That seemed to mollify her. Kagome breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm so sorry. . . that I raved on like that." Her face colored. "It's just that. . . Houshi-sama makes me so angry. . ." They shed their towels and slipped into the soothing, steaming water.
Voluminous raven hair floating in the water, Kagome tried to laugh, but the nervous quaver at the end spoiled it. "Well, I can't really blame you." Nothing filled the air then but the bubbling of the spring water, and it was clear the touchy subject needed changing.
"Ah, this feels wonderful. . . almost like a massage. The water's so warm. . . I don't think I ever want to get out!" Sango, wearied by her previous outburst, lowered her body further below the surface until only her nose and eyes peeked out of the water. "Mmmm. . ."
Soon the two maidens lost themselves in the warm caress of the spring water, Shikon shards and perverted monks the furthest things from their minds.
~*~*~*~*~
Inuyasha was bored.
He leered from his standard outpost at the top of an ancient tree, arms crossed in reprieve and body slumped against the massive branch. Shippo was sleeping, who knows where that stupid monk was, and the girls had left earlier, all giggly and stupid at the prospect of taking a bath, with warning not to peek in or many 'Osuwaris' would soon follow. Why did women need to bathe so much? A little dirt never hurt anyone. It was one of the many mysteries of mankind that he would likely not unravel.
His ear twitched at a rustle of leaves on the ground. Inuyasha looked down to find Miroku smiling up at him, holding an object which, after a close inspection, he discerned as Kagome's backpack.
"Hey, Inuyasha. Would you like to have some fun?" There was something about the way the priest talked and smiled that irritated the hanyou, but he never could quite grasp what.
Golden eyes made contact with the figure below a few seconds longer before he turned his head away. ". . . Feh. That's Kagome's stuff. Leave it alone."
Miroku was undaunted. He had an evil idea in his head, and he wouldn't stop until he carried it out. Working his charm, he enticed, "You could have all the ramen you ever wanted. Just think, it's all in here. . ." He jiggled the pack for emphasis.
That seemed to spike dog boy's attention. In painful slow motion, he craned his head back in the direction of Miroku. If his gaze could have frozen, the monk was most certainly an icicle. However, his eyes were chiefly on the pack, looking at it as if his vision could penetrate the fabric to see the contents inside.
Many prolonged moments later, the hound leapt from his post onto the leaf-littered ground. Inuyasha was still a skeptic to the proposition, as Miroku's brilliancy in the past, while it had bought them a free night's stay at countless inns, proved very hazardous. He approached with caution.
"So. That's just Kagome's weird pack thingy," he sneered. "What's so fun about it?"
"Ah, not so, my furry friend." The crease of discontent on Inuyasha's face widened into a canyon. "You shall see." Ever so gingerly, he grasped the "zipper" between thumb and forefinger, and, like he had seen its owner do many times, slid it along the metal track until both boys could see the forbidden contents that lurked within.
At the peak of the mound was a notebook, that, when flipped through, proved to be nothing more than some boring school notes and therefore nothing of interest. Both dug further into the pile, furtive, like two naughty little boys playing in Mother's jewelry. If curiosity killed the cat, it would do much worse to the dog.
The second item was more intriguing. It looked like another notebook, only with a dopey little picture printed onto the front and a lock. All perseverance was summoned to find the key, but at last it was discovered, stowed away within a hidden compartment amongst some odd things in crinkly wrappers and jewelry, obviously intended to be kept secret.
Our smooth thieves were not turned off by this, however. They were too absorbed in their excitement to be bothered by the consequences of being caught red-handed. Miroku fumbled with the key a bit, trying to wedge it into the hole, but with a few good tries it became unhinged and the pages spilled open, Kagome's private life exposed for anyone to read.
"It says, 'Dear Diary, I am so fed up with that aggravating Inuyasha today I feel as if I could wring his hanyou neck.'" Inuyasha snorted, now thoroughly engrossed, and Miroku tuned his voice pitch to match Kagome's own feminine tone, getting into the act. "'I swear, boys haven't gotten any more mature than they were six hundred years ago. What jerks!'" They both howled.
Oblivious to the danger they were in, the two read on, illegal in their bliss and surely in for the disciplining of their lives.
~*~*~*~*~
Ah, nothing like a bath to refresh one's spirits. High-minded and squeaky-clean, Kagome and Sango marched camp-ho, carrying the bucket full of toiletries with them. Sango had been entreated to the beautification wonders of the twenty-first century, and had ever since been bugging Kagome to bring her some lip gloss and a blow dryer back the next time she went back through the well. The sun had even begun to make a chink through the miasma of gray clouds. Now, if only those boys had behaved, things would keep moving smoothly. . .
Entering campground, Kagome froze. Conversation was bubbling up from the forest. . . No, it couldn't be. They wouldn't be that insensitive. . . but as she walked closer, she heard that the words being broadcast were indeed those of her diary, in Miroku's fake sassy staccato. All joy melted into the swirling vat of her boiling anger, and, without a second thought, she left a bewildered Sango behind and trudged towards the sound to let the carnage commence.
When Inuyasha saw Kagome march heatedly through that clearing, his ears flattened against his head and he knew he was done for. There was no way now of concealing their dirty deeds - they'd been caught in the act, and, no matter who initiated it, they'd better be ready to face her wrath. Here it comes, he thought, beginning to cringe as he imagined himself familiarizing with the taste of earth and tree roots.
"What. . . do you both. . . think you are doing?" she hissed, looking ready to kill. Anyone who knew the girl at all would immediately admit demise and surrender to their fate. Then again, Miroku never did know when enough was enough.
"Oh, good morning, Kagome-sama! We were just checking your baggage for evil spirits, and seem to have been alarmed by this particular piece of luggage. You don't mind, do you?" He was really pushing the envelope.
"Don't. . . mind?" Her eyes took on an evil glint. "Don't mind?! AUUUGH!" she screeched, lunging toward the accused. Miroku evaded her touch, but Inuyasha, into whose hands the diary had been mysteriously thrust during the transition, was not as fortunate. All one-hundred-ten pounds of livid schoolgirl were suddenly thrust upon him in an eyeblink, bringing both to the ground.
"Gimme back my diary!" she howled, making a mad reach for it. The hanyou, desperate to escape the uncompromising position and wishing he'd known better than to indulge in Miroku's kind of fun, struggled beneath her grasp, his eyesight largely obstructed by a large quantity of puffy black hair.
"Ooomppff!" A good jerk had freed him of her chokehold. She rolled off onto the ground, leaving him with the ransom. At that time Sango burst through the trees and into the spectacle, gaze shifting from the tug-o-warring Inuyasha and Kagome to the half-open pack to innocently-grinning Miroku as she pieced things together. The last item gave everything away, and, face clouding over, she headed toward the perpetrator.
"This. . . was your fault, wasn't it, Houshi-sama?" Her voice was eerily frigid.
Nervous hands scratched the back of his neck. "It was only innocent fun, you see. We like our traveling mates to be safe, and we can't be sure until we see there isn't anything dangerous lurking in their backpacks. These are very dangerous times, you know." His hopeful defense fell on deaf ears. He gulped. Here it came.
"Ugh, the audacity of you!" She delivered him a swift punch to the gut, Sango-style. "That's not any way to treat a lady's private belongings!" Pure, concentrated anger simmered in her features as the monk looked up to her from his new position, and perversely it allured him.
"Such emotion, Lady Sango. . . you look especially attractive when you're trying to have my head." It was too tempting.
A blush of indignation swept her face, but it only added to her fury. "HENTAIIII!" Another blow was administered, this time to his head. It toppled the priest over, and she stood over him looking flustered and every bit as hot-tempered as an angry hornet.
"Ahh, how I'd missed this touch. . ." he moaned, rubbing the lump on his head. "They say right, love does hurt."
Victorious, yet something inside of her sinking at the fact that she'd not deterred her prey a bit, she stalked of with a, "Hmmph!", cheeks still carrying their pink hue. Infuriating monk. . .
In the meantime, violence had ensued as Kagome fought to regain her diary. Currently, Inuyasha was sprawled into the ground, prayer beads aglow, diary still in hand and unable to get a word in edgewise. Kagome, flushed with exertion and the shame of knowing her most innermost musings had been read, continued to sit him 'till kingdom come, or at least until the diary was back in her possession. Either way was fine.
"Osuwa-" The fated word had barely left her mouth than Inuyasha turned in the towel, whining for her to stop.
"Stop, stop! Here, take your stupid diary! We only read the first page anyway! Just. . . don't sit me anymore!" He wobbled out of the pit his body had formed, all too gratefully handing over the accursed thing.
She practically snatched it away, holding it close to her and stuffing it into her ransacked backpack. The zipper closed with a resounding ssszip! and thus, finally, the drama came to an end.
All parties involved, now with the inclusion of Shippo, who had miraculously awoken not by the intense racquet but by the lack thereof, took a few minutes to regain their bearings. Kagome's temper cooled, as she knew at last her diary was safe, and took a look around at the aftermath. Somewhere in the tangle Inuyasha had received a papercut, which he was now nursing like the baby he was, and Miroku sported a very nice shiner atop his head, undoubtedly of Sango's doing and probably well-deserved. She had to smile. No matter how angry they made her, she was always the one to mend their wounds in the end, and wrapped up in those bloody bandages was the core of their friendship. Even though it seemed sometimes the fibers stretched so tight they would snap, or someone was hurt so badly everyone thought they'd leave, the scars always healed with time. Sure, there was plenty of darkness - in her past and everyone's - but with their combined efforts it was certain that they overcame and emerged victorious.
Okay, enough mushy stuff. Kagome pulled on her scrubs and launched into her Compassionate Caregiver role. She went to fetch the first-aid kit, breaking out the peroxide and the band-aids to do a little maintenance, both of the physical and mental variety. First patient: Inuyasha.
He looked at her with eyes full of reproach, and she did her best not to begin giggling at his expression, one filled with childish obstinance. She revealed the sterile pads and band-aid she held in her hands, easing down onto the ground next to him. He allowed her, but the didn't change.
As Kagome gently pressed the alcohol-saturated cloth to the tiny incision, Inuyasha shrank back and whipped his head away at the sting. "Wench."
"You got what you deserved. You shouldn't have been messing around with my diary." She stripped the bandage of its wax paper.
He growled. "Miroku's the one who got the idea to root through your stuff. I just did it for the ramen."
Off with more protective paper. "Well, you should have had better sense than to listen to him, of all people." She spoke with sarcasm.
"Feh."
She hesitated in affixing the band-aid, its sticky cling still adhered to her skin. This was different than before. Inuyasha seemed. . . almost upset. Her heart sank. It wasn't because of her, was it? Did he think she was. . . a violent, mean person? Or. . . someone to be feared? She shuddered at the last part. Well. . . you'd better fix this one, too, Nurse Kagome, she conceded.
"Inuyasha. . ." Her mind scrambled to find the words. "Okay, so maybe I shouldn't have been so. . . brutal." She cringed to say it. "I was embarrassed, I overreacted. But. . . you still shouldn't have gone along with Miroku. My diary is very personal, and I just didn't want you reading it." A great sigh tumbled from her. "I'm sorry."
"Damn right you are." His tone was still jeering.
Annoyance pulsed in her again. "Hey! I'm being perfectly honest with you, and even giving you an apology when I'm the one who should deserve one. The least you could do is give me some respect!"
His head was still turned, and he looked as stubbornly angry as ever, but after a while he jabbed out his injured finger. "You'd better be quick." It was his way of forgiveness.
Negative feelings rapidly being sucked into Oblivion, a grin inhibited Kagome's features as she wrapped the band-aid around Inuyasha's finger. "Okay. It'll heal now."
The hanyou, not quite a boy, but not quite a man either, stood, Kagome rising with him. "Come on," he beckoned to the others, "let's go."
And thus ended a typical morning in the company of these five in the Sengoku Jidai.
~*~*~*~*~
Most certainly it lie here. Repugnant was its aura, a gradient trail that neared him to what he so sought with every step. The day had already began in overcast, but in this particular clump of trees, deep in the thicket of an unknown wood, it seemed the surreal black of night.
A peculiar mist had begun to form, stale-smelling and foreboding. Sesshomaru felt a tiny hand crush itself into the folds of his robes, and sensed Rin stiffen, frightened. With a lamb's touch he uncurled her fingers.
"There is no need for your fear. Should we find ourselves in a dangerous situation, you should know that I am far more superior than any creature that prowls in this forest." The girl relaxed a little, comforted by the truth in his words, but she remained edgy, jumping at every sound.
The dwelling that they approached did indeed hold the air of shady going-ons inside its hastily covered windows of shattered glass. Yet here was where the Lord insisted bequeathed the item. Jaken was not at all appeased by the stench of mortal blood that wafted from it, but his yielding mistrust would not do him any favor in the venture.
They reached the doorstep of the crude establishment. Before Sesshoumaru had time to announce his presence, a grubby and unshaved face poked out from a rectangular vent in the door, eyes suspicious.
"Who're ye be, demon, and what're ye wants with us? We haven' any dealins' with ye, so ye'd bes' explain." His tone conveyed meaning.
A man brave enough to stand before him. Well, his lack of cowardice earned him a bit of tolerance. "I am but a wandering demon; you need not know more. I seek you out because my senses tell me that you possess something of my desire." Rin's hand again was pressed into him, but this time he made no attempt to brush it away.
"We've many items of desirin'. I'm afraid ye are not bein' clear enough."
The man was holding his ground. "The item of my desire," he spoke to the callous mortal through the peephole, "is known by the name of the Komamachi mirror."
To this Jaken must pipe up. "A mirror, m'lord?" he asked in disbelief. "Why a mirror? Surely you have no use for such a thing-" His words weren't paid any attention to.
"And what purpose do ye intend for this mirror?" Suspicion laced his voice.
"If you insinuate that I am being faint, you are wrong. The reasons why I desire the item aren't of your concern. Your concern is simply to deal to those who come to you what they ask." His resolve was unshakeable.
"Ye are no fool. Ye may enter." The vent was sealed and the door opened into the dark reaches inside, bearing a sealed, musty scent. Surely even the most black market rebels and thieves would not dare to tread here. Rin's stronghold became more weighted.
Piled upon the walls were heaps of obscurity, most likely acquired by sinister means. Some were filled with the ethereal beauty and intrigue of mortals, others more foreign and alien. A customer walked here knowing exactly what is was they intended to bargain, if they had the guts to bargain for it.
"Welcome," said the man from the door vent, now in full view, "to our stronghold. Ye best be certain what ye lookin' for."
A nod was received from the demon lord. "I would not have seeked out this place without full intention of carrying through my goals. You are assured of the nature of my intents."
Solemn, the apparent doorman voiced acceptance. "Aye, then. I'll return with our master, then." And with that he turned and disappeared into the shadows.
Rin, still uneasy about her surroundings, slowly withdrew her quivering grip of Sesshoumaru's robes, chancing a full look at her surroundings. Eerie shapes inched toward the low ceilings in fearful measure, the tightly drawn windows consuming all of the light so that one single ray of sunshine was not allowed to penetrate. Mounds of unknown oddment enveloped all of the wall surface, their shapes unfamiliar and threatening. One was an especially alluring harp-like ornament, its brassy gleam enticing her eye. She dared to touch it, the loving object, to own it forever. . . She reached out. . .
Sesshoumaru saw in an instant what was happening and immediately locked onto her hand, hold firm. She snapped away from the harp, looking disconcerted. "S-sesshoumaru-sama. . ."
"Do not touch anything here, Rin. The likes of these objects are not to be trusted; that harp was most likely affixed with a curse." He removed his hand, facing away into the sea of inky shadow.
"Such a shame you stopped her, m'lord," Jaken muttered with a derisive cackle. The taiyoukai indefinitely caught his words by way of his superior hearing, but feigned ignorance. Such was best in the case of simple-minded, lesser beasts like himself.
Irregular footfalls became clear from beyond, and at last two figures emerged. The coarse doorman gave the briefest possible introduction. After all, each of us has our secrets to keep.
"Our master, to whom ye have requested dealins'. Ye may address him with respect, and no less, if ye wish to fulfill ye goals." He gave a half-bow and receded back into the darkness.
The man was a bit disappointing for those who expect superiors to be great, hulking men, large and powerful in every way. This 'boss' was gaunt and swathed from head to foot in an all-concealing robe of ebony, with a like voice like a crackling whisper. But, how appearances can deceive.
He spoke. "So, you want the Mirror, the elusive mirror that binds both fantasy and reality into one tangible thing." His gaze was direct and unflinching. "You are aware that nothing I give comes without consequence."
Sesshoumaru matched his demeanor. "I have come here aware of this fact, and am preparing to do whatever required as long as you grant my wish."
"Very well." He pulled forth a rather dingy-looking circlet of reflective glass, mounted upon a tarnished but intricately sculpted base of copper. "There is no true condition for my giving you this particular item, for it in itself is task enough. I do not preach to my customers on what they intend to do with what I give them, or how they should implement it; I merely supply their needs for when they come to ask. You appear to know well what you want and the course you will take with it; and I doubt anything I would say would make a great amount of difference anyway."
A smirk. "You know me well. Indeed I most likely would not reap your counsel, I would go on as I wished. You are wise, for a mortal."
"And surely you gather my meaning when I say there is not a debt to pay, as there is for most, with the Mirror." He placed it into the taiyoukai's hands, letting him get a glimpse of himself reflected in the seemingly ordinary hand mirror.
"Your meaning does not elude me."
"Go, then."
They exited then from whence they entered, with twice the precious cargo than before. And, unbeknownst to even Sesshoumaru, also twice as much unfathomed disaster waiting to happen.
~*~*~*~*~
Disclaimer: Rumiko Takahashi wrote the first Inuyasha manga in 1996, when I was in first grade and dicovering the wonders of color-by-number and stick figures. Which, of course, should be proof enough that this onderful series is not mine.
Hee-hee:P Tried to work a slice of comedy into this one. Keep in mind that these chapter are just plot-building, so if you haven't satisfied yourself yet, there's probably something still down the road.
Also, if you hadn't noticed, this is a serious story, with a serious plot and so on, so forth. Of course, there's also a hefty amount of that lighter stuff, just because I a sucker for comedy and romance and so is Rumiko Takahashi.
Previews, just like in the movies!
~*NEXT CHAPTER*~
Snowbound
Travel plans are dampened (literally) as large amounts of white, fluffy stuff descend from the sign. As everyone shares campfire togetherness, mysteries begin to arise. . . not the least of which is Miroku's cooking. Complication!