(350 words)
This is, without a doubt, the best feeling I've ever had. Well, maybe not. There was that one time when me and Kagome...
But, um, that's not the point. I was talking about this feeling.
Yeah, this is wonderful. I remember how I once said that there was nothing good about Kagome's era, save for instant ramen. Oh, how wrong I was. The near scalding water drums down on my bare back, soothing aching muscles and restoring a sense of calm that I'm sure I haven't felt in a long while.
Kagome bangs on the door.
"Inuyasha! You've been in there for nearly half an hour!" She shouts over the cascading echoes of what must sound like a torrential downpour. "I'm giving you five minutes before I turn off the hot-water heater!"
I sigh, turning the knob as Kagome's shown me countless times before, and step out onto the cool linoleum. I flinch harshly, mourning the loss of the warm, comforting water and instinctively throw a white cloth around my waist to preserve my modesty.
I can't stop the smirk that spreads across my face in remembrance of the occasion when I had stepped out into Kagome's room, wearing nothing but suds.
But the smirk quickly fades when I also recall how Kagome had reacted— she'd thrown a wastepaper basket at my head. Ouch.
I fling open the door, releasing a pent-up cloud of steam that filters slowly into Kagome's room, which has got to be the girliest shade of pink I've ever seen, lemme tell you. She turns, eyes widening a fraction at my barely clothed self. Her cheeks flare, quickly turning crimson.
Of course, arrogant as I am, I don't say a word. I've got a better sense of self-preservation than you would think.
I can almost hear Miroku's badly stifled snort of amusement if I strain my ears hard enough.
"That was great... what was it called again?" I ask, looking around for another cloth to dry my hair with.
Kagome rolls her eyes. "A shower." And then she throws a fluffy, green towel at my head.