Disclaimer: I do not own IY, nor do I own Hawaii Air (if there is such an airline) or Tokyo International Airport (if there is such an airport). But I do own a pillow that I use to beat people with. ^-^

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Chapter 3: Symptoms of the Morning After

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The next morning, Inu-Yasha woke up in a strange room. It wasn't his, but it seemed familiar. He tried to sit up, but when he did he got a major headache.

"Oh, my head," he moaned, lying back down.

Kagome heard the noise coming from her bedroom and left the couch to see if Inu-Yasha was all right. She'd brought him back to her apartment because he'd been too drunk to see straight and she didn't want him to get hurt.

Kagome peaked around the door to see Inu-Yasha on her bed where she left him last night. He was looking a little hung over, but none the worse for wear.

"Inu-Yasha?"

"Wha…?" he asked as he looked around. He finally saw her standing by the door in her pajamas, which were an old shirt and underwear. Suddenly he remembered where he was.

"Why am I in your room, Kagome?" Inu-Yasha asked while he made another effort to sit up. Kagome rushed over to help him.

"There you go, sweetie," she cooed while she helped him sit up. "Don't rush yourself. You're still a bit messed up from last night."

At the sound of that Inu-Yasha's eyes got huge. His imaginative mind was putting puzzle pieces together in quite the wrong way.

"From…last night…?" he gulped.

Kagome's expression went from caring, to confused, to sour.

"How could you even think that!?!?" she screamed.

Her tone was already loud, but to Inu-Yasha it was even louder. This was because of his sensitive dog-ears. Add that to the fact that he was hung over, and you basically get the sound of somebody putting a mega-phone up to your ear and screaming into it. Not a pleasant sound first thing in the morning.

"How was I supposed to know?!" Inu-Yasha shouted back. "All I see this morning is me in your bed, in your room, and you in a T-shirt and panties talking about last night!"

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A similar argument was going on at Miroku's house. Miroku had taken Sango back to his house because she had gotten a little tipsy the night before. Everything was going well until Sango woke up and found herself in a bed with Miroku.

"How could you?!" Sango screamed as she beat Miroku with a pillow.

"I swear, Sango, nothing happened!" Miroku vehemently stated.

Sango broke down into tears and continued to pound Miroku over the head with her pillow.

"Then why would I be here?" she said between sniffles.

"Well if you would stop beating me with that pillow I could explain."

Sango stopped with the pillow-turned-weapon over her head, ready to strike if she thought Miroku was lying. Miroku looked into her eyes with look that melted her heart.

"As I was saying before, Sango," Miroku explained, "nothing happened. You got a little drunk, and I brought you back here so I could watch you and make sure you didn't hurt yourself."

Sango was skeptical. "A likely story, but how do you explain the bed?"

Miroku blushed. "Okay, I admit, that was me being a little kinky."

Sango was just about to start smacking Miroku over the head with the alarm clock that now replaced the pillow. Miroku saw it and rushed to defend himself.

"But if you'll notice, you're still in your clothes from last night!" Miroku screamed as he shut his eyes tight and covered his head with his hands.

Right about then he was expecting to feel the clock connecting with his face. When it didn't, he slowly opened his eyes one at a time and moved his arms away. Sango was surveying her out fit.

"So I am… You have proven your innocence and I am sorry." Sango said. "Now I have to go home, take a shower, and start packing."

"Packing? Where are you going, Sango?" Miroku asked.

He began to stand up but realized too late that he was on the edge of the bed. He toppled over and took the sheet with him. This threw Sango off balance and she flew off the bed along with Miroku and the sheets. She landed with a thud on top of Miroku.

"Awkward…" Miroku sighed. Sango blushed and stood up.

"I'm packing for Kara's wedding. We're all leaving tomorrow."

Miroku's eyes got big. "This is Kara's wedding?!"

"Ya, so?"

"Is this the same Kara that pulverized Inu-Yasha and myself with paint balls?"

"That was an accident. Besides, it was Inu-Yasha's fault that he wore light pants that day."

"It looked like he had blood stains on them! From behind he looked like a girl who was off the calendar."

Sango chose to ignore that statement and went looking for her purse.

"I suggest that you start packing, Miroku." Sango called over her shoulder when she found her purse. "Inu-Yasha will be here to pick you up at six."

With that, Sango left Miroku's house.

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The next day, at precisely six o'clock, Inu-Yasha was banging on Miroku's door.

"Miroku, hurry it up! We've gotta be at the airport in half an hour!"

From inside Miroku shuffled around in his blankets, content to sleep all day. After all, this was his week off. Then he remembered why he had taken this week off.

"The plane!" he shouted with a start. "Coming!"

He pulled his pants on and ran down the stairs at the same time. Good thing he had left the suitcase by the door.

"Hi, Inu-Yasha!" Miroku said, out of breath as he opened the door.

"Hurry up and get in the damn car. We've only got twenty-five minutes!"

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The group found themselves in Tokyo International Airport with time to spare. The security was tight but they made it to the Hawaii Air terminal just as it was beginning to board.

Inu-Yasha looked a little frightened as he boarded the plane and Kagome noticed.

"Inu-Yasha, are you okay?" she asked him when they found their seats.

"I'm fine." he said rigidly.

Miroku noticed. "Are you scared, Inu-Yasha?"

"No, I'm not scared! Its just…Ihaven'tbeenonaplanebefore."

"What?" Sango asked.

"You haven't been on a plane before?" Miroku asked incredulously.

"Leave him alone," Kagome defended. "It's not his fault he hasn't been on a plane before."

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My notes:

Okies! I thought that was a good way to end this chapter! I might put the plane ride itself in the next chapter. Waddya think?