Only Human Chapter 34: Blowing Smoke, an inuyasha fanfic

Kagome was beyond thrilled to hear the news about Rin's condition, but this time; she would leave nothing to chance.

Deciding not to put too much stock in demonic assessments – particularly incomplete, intermittent demonic assessments - she opted to verify Sesshoumaru's latest claim by making Rin take the pregnancy test sticks she'd brought to confirm the pills' success.

She gave her some bullshit reason for it, telling her the test was to see how much youki remained in her system, and the girl didn't question it.

They were, indeed, negative.

With that crisis averted; Kagome was able to focus her time and energy on making Sesshoumaru demon again.

But she was exhausted inside and out. The night following her return to the feudal era had been Kagome's first break from duty since the moment she found the Western Lord unconscious in the snow, and her body and mind took advantage of the occasion by shutting down completely, and indulging in some self-imposed, non-negotiable rest.

Her hut was still under repair, so Inuyasha and Sango had invited her to bunk with them until it was ready for her to reclaim. But when she woke up in the middle of the night - unbeknownst to them - to soft panting and poorly concealed moans of pleasure, she decided to inform them the next morning that she would be returning ahead of schedule.

They argued with her vehemently about her decision, stating that it was far too cold in the dead of winter for a human to sleep in a hut with roof damage, but she maintained that she would be fine. She had her sleeping bag – freshly washed – not to mention warm blankets and clothing to get her through the few days - at the most - it would take to complete the repairs.

She also had an irori, as all their huts did, so she would be no worse off than when they had slept in the wilderness.

Miroku had suggested that she sleep in the men's hut, for once with no lecherous intent. His highly astute – not to mention perverse – nature allowed him to correctly surmise the reason for her early departure from the other hut, and he assured her there was no chance of being woken by such disturbances between he and Sesshoumaru.

'At least,' he'd joked wryly, 'almost none.'

She was actually considering his offer, but Sesshoumaru extinguished those inclinations by offering to switch places with her instead. He'd said it would be 'too crowded' with the three of them, but Kagome knew the real reason.

He was still mad at her. And despite all she had gone through for him in the modern era – and, not to mention; this entire freaking journey – he still did not wish to be in her company any longer than was absolutely necessary.

Rin's new status as untouched once again had done wonders for his mood, and alleviated a good deal of his misery and grief, but it was far from enough to fix the damage she'd done with her wish, and subsequent deception.

No, just like the roof; there was no quick fix, and it was going to take hard work and time to get things back the way they were. And in all reality, it would likely never be quite the same.

After another full day of labor, Sesshoumaru and the men called it once the sun dipped below the horizon, and joined the others for their evening meal.

That was the last time she saw him before retreating to her cold, lonely, damaged hut and got herself ready for bed.

Her sleeping yukata was thin, but the modest fire she'd prepared made her hut plenty comfortable. So she slipped inside her bag and tried to get some sleep. But unlike last night, her mind did not wish to cooperate with her body's demand for rest.

Thoughts so easily drifted to the demon in human's clothing just one hut down the way. He felt so much further than that from her, and as he actively attempted to add more distance between them; it only motivated her to find the key to changing him back.

The jewel still didn't work, and she was convinced that was because her wish had yet to be completed. Once he knew enough to have a decent grasp on the human experience; she was certain it would return him to his former glory – finally enlightened, just as she'd wanted.

Since she couldn't sleep; she pulled out her notebook and decided to make a list of all the things a human might know, that perhaps a demon would not.

She'd had a few pretty decent guesses, but after twenty minutes of good, hard thought; she found her list terribly lacking. Because really, she had no idea what a demon truly knew. In truth, she'd never really considered them to be all that different.

It was humbling to realize she didn't know as much about them as she thought, and that perhaps it had been hypocritical to expect Sesshoumaru to know more about her species than she knew about his.

Fed up with her ignorance; she decided the best thing to do would be to ask the former demon himself. He would know better than she what made demons tick, and she was very confident he would be more than happy to tell her of the many differences that set the two of them apart – likely complete with unsolicited opinions on why one was far superior to the other.

Plus, it was an excuse to see him. She wasn't deluded enough to deny she was eager for any opportunity to be in his company for a bit, and helping fix his curse was an occasion he couldn't deny her. So she threw on her winter coat and stepped into her sandals, and crossed the short distance to his hut.

It was pitch black in the village, but the flames that roared in his hearth illuminated the cracks in the wood, displaying the imperfections and minor damage of the home.

She followed their call to the man she wanted to see, but when she reached her destination, a familiar scent hit her nose, and drew her attention to the entrance.

His solitary profile became visible to her just outside the door, and she instantly knew why. It looked like she wasn't the only one who was having trouble getting to sleep.

She saw the cherry in his bowl piece burning bright red as he took an especially long pull, and continued to slowly approach as the large puff of smoke was forced out into the air around them.

She could make him out more clearly the closer she got, until she finally saw his gaze slide wordlessly her way. It remained as she moved to stand beside him, stopping just short of grazing his sleeve.

She watched him a moment as he defiantly raised the pipe to his lips and took another long, slow pull of his medicine. The scent, which she once found offensive, was beginning to grow on her. She figured it must be an association thing.

"Can I have some?" she finally asked. Her smile endured through the cocked eyebrow he produced. "I really need it."

It had been a rough week, and considering the few that proceeded it; that was really saying something. The thought of muting even a portion of her detrimental thoughts was an appealing one, so despite her initial reluctance; she was willing to join him in drowning her sorrows.

He seemed to consider her request for a long moment, but eventually thought better of it.

"There isn't enough," he declared, then suggested, "Take your pills."

He must be finally running low. She was actually surprised his stash had lasted this long; at the rate he was going. A part of her was pleased, but another, more logical part worried he would seek out more.

He was about to take another hit, but her voice tempted him to wait.

"I saw something in a movie once," she said; her hopeful blue depths instantly commanding his rapt attention. "There is a way we can share it. Can I show you?"

He clearly didn't want to, but the Lord of the West was famous for his curiosity, among other things. And the Shikon Miko was an endless well of intrigue that never failed to pique his interest.

She continued to look up at him, simply awaiting the compliance she was so eager for. As he drew it out, she hid her impatience well.

"Can I trust you?" he asked drolly. The question caused her heart to soar.

Because to anyone else, it might sound like he doubted her intentions. But to her, who was fluent in Sesshoumaru's subtle inflections, his doubt was in his own notions.

Not only that; there was hope. He wanted to be wrong about her. He wanted her show him that he was. And she would.

"Let's find out now, once and for all." She was trying to sound casual, but anyone could have heard the grin on her face, even if he weren't looking right at it.

When she saw the device drifting her way in offering; she reached out to take it from him. A soft brush of fingertips made her heart jump, and then beat faster when he hesitated just a moment to relax his grip.

The cherry was still lit when she lifted the stolen pipe to her full, petal-soft lips. She could feel his eyes burning into her as she sucked on the tip slowly, having learned from last time the consequences of overzealousness.

She drew the heavy smoke into her lungs with a long, unrushed pull, and when she could finally take no more; she removed it, and held it in.

She tilted her head to look up at him as he watched on curiously, waiting to see what she would do. Though he did not expect it, he did not recoil or retreat when she pressed her taut belly flush against his, and grabbed him tightly at the lapels of his kimono. With a demanding pull; she coaxed him closer, and his hands reflexively moved to rest on her hips.

She got up on her toes to make up for the difference, suspending close enough to see his surprise; to feel his breath on her nose. Startled but still; he refused to react or rebuff as he let her proceed with her indulgence; while he trusted her intentions.

She pulled him nearer still, forcing him to crane above her upturned face as a collision seemed imminent. He braced for impact, curling his fingers into the swell of her hips as traitorous excitement had his pulse racing. But just before they touched, when their lips were only a hairsbreadth apart, she stopped her ascent. Mouth open slightly in anticipation; he watched hers part for him as well, and she began to exhale.

Thick tendrils of smoke were allowed to escape past her tempting lips with tantalizing slowness. As soon as it did; he inhaled deeply, stealing her breath quite literally and making it his own.

He paced himself, determined to take every last bit she offered to him, and not a scrap less. His fingers dug deeper into her curves as he felt - as he tasted - her seeping past his defenses and occupying him completely. He was all too happy to allow the invasion, in fact; he was desperate for it.

Her lips would just barely brush his as she transferred the smoke; the accidental drag of plump, familiar flesh calling him like a siren to close the final distance until there was none.

Instinct, and muscle memory screamed at him to press forward. It wouldn't take much - hardly anything - to have her mouth on his, as he so desired it to be. But he wouldn't.

By the time the last of the sweetened smoke was shared; he pulled away – just enough to turn his head to the side and expel every last part of her that had invaded him.

After blowing their combined breath out into the dark night; he turned back to the woman he still held to firmly, and looked right into blue eyes hooded with contentment. A lazy smile relayed her pleasure, and the combination sparked something inside of him that he hadn't felt in weeks. Something he'd missed with every fiber of his being.

He was already floating from earlier, but her addition to the concoction lifted him to new heights. There was a weight to that lightness, however. An elevation in sensation that overpowered the numbness as he combined his two most dangerous addictions.

With the Kagome-laced opium he could smoke her like a drug, and it was clear to him even through his fogged mind which one hit him harder. There was power in the pleasure and fulfillment she gave him, and he knew if he wasn't careful, it could lead to his destruction.

She didn't release him until he removed his hands, and held one out expectantly. It signified an abrupt end to their enjoyable little interlude, and Kagome was not pleased to see it over so soon. She had forgotten for a brief moment that the blood between them had turned, and was in no rush to have her memory reinstated.

She cast a quick glance upward for confirmation, and found it in his glassy, demanding eyes. Overcome with disappointment, she reluctantly – yet obediently – returned the opium to his possession.

She took a step back, giving him some space as he lifted the pipe to his lips again, and tucked a wayward lock of black hair back behind her ear.

She'd only lowered her gaze for a moment when his hands were suddenly on her; pulling her flush with him again. A strong grip on her waist held her to him tightly, while the other wove into the long hair at her nape, and angled her up towards him once more.

Pulling her back into position; she almost forgot to keep still when he stopped just short of bringing her mouth to his, which he let hover teasingly above. If she spoke, if she licked her lips, they would be touching just the way she yearned for. But she refrained.

She nearly forgot to breath as the smoke tinged with his essence left his mouth, and sought hers.

Just like he had done; she inhaled slowly and steadily to accept every bit he was able, and willing to give her.

Trembling flesh unintentionally grazed his, tempting her with more. Flooding her memories and making her burn between the thighs. Her nipples were already tight from the cold air, but pressed against his firm chest shot jolts of pleasure down to her core, and encouraged her shift into him just a little.

When he was through; he pulled back but did not release her, watching on with fuzzy satisfaction as she released their thick cloud off to the side. After she exhaled; she turned back to face him with that same sleepy look of contentment she'd been wearing before.

"Mm. That feels nice." Her body and brain were in agreement as he continued to hold her in his arms. She felt lighter; less weighed down. She felt... happy.

His bangs hung over his eyes, but the way he lowered his head made it look like he was gazing down at where they still touched. She couldn't see his expression, so she couldn't tell if he was lost deep in thought, or completely void of them and simply reveling in the thoughtless relief he likely sought.

As for her; she was simply enjoying the easiness of the care-free moment, and having him near without mistakes of the past acting as barriers between them.

That dull ache between her legs progressed to a full-on throbbing when she felt the hand at her hip begin to stray. The sudden drag of his callused palm down the length of her thigh reduced the skin beneath to gooseflesh. Thousands of fine, almost invisible hairs stood on end like an electric current was passing through his fingertips. The hot, tingling trail they left in their wake activated raw nerves she never even knew existed.

She grabbed onto his shoulders in reflex - and for stability - even though he kept her in his hold as he slid past the hem of her silk yukata, and brushed the back of her knee.

Once there; he reversed course and began moving back up her leg. He encountered her hem once again, but slid himself beneath the fine material – parting it the front as he traced another searing path all the way to the top.

He heard her sharp intake of breath as deft fingers danced along her upper thigh, tickling and teasing until they reached the thin strip of cotton at her hip.

The pads of his fingers traveled along the covering, back and forth in that one spot as if he were perusing the material; inspecting it.

She remained silent, excited and entranced as she allowed him to trace her futuristic underwear with a thoughtful, almost appreciative look on handsome features. And deathly still, as if she feared the slightest sound or movement would snap him from his reverie and cause him to retreat.

Dragging his hand upward; he hooked his index finger inside the top of a slightly worn elastic band, and peeled it away from her heated flesh enough to test its give. He added his thumb to rub the material between it, memorizing every fiber, filing away the sensation as he tried to discern everything there was about her panties simply by touch.

Like a blind man reading brail; she got the distinct feeling he was making use of his available senses to tell him what his superior demon ones now could not. Like he was learning a new way decipher the world around him after losing the use of others.

He was touching her like it was the first time he'd ever done so, marveling and savoring and seeing with new eyes. And as he pulled the material at her hip; the part in her yukata opened around his arm, falling away like a curtain and exposing her clothed lower half to his half-lidded gaze.

"I never took the time to appreciate the craftmanship."

His calm, deep voice distracted her from his audacious assault, and soothed the frazzled nerves he'd single-handedly set haywire.

"I was always so preoccupied with getting inside them, that I never admired the quality. But it is really, quite impressive."

He continued to finger the material throughout his confession, and while his hand, and his gaze were fixed upon her waist, his voice sounded very distant, though not quite detached.

She watched him staring, zoning out on her as he was lost to his musings. The patch of skin he stroked beneath her clothing sang at his touch, but her pleasure bolstered more from the thoughts he chose to share. That he would let her into his head, even if for something trivial and fleeting, felt even more intimate.

"They're not my best," she confessed softly as she rested one hand upon his chest. She felt the heat of his skin, the drum of his heart acutely against her palm. "They've kind of been through the ringer. You just can't tell because they're from another era."

He released the fabric as he lifted his gaze to hers, but she encouraged the closeness by placing her hand over the one still in her hair.

Bold fingertips remained inside her robe to stroke a gentle pattern over the cloth at her hip, and his eyes bore into her intensely.

"They are still better than anything I have encountered," he admitted, as his voice took on a husky tone. "Likely ever will."

His stare, while hooded, was focused solely on her. Unforgiving in its longing, and distance, and desperation as he seemed to plead for something even he couldn't understand. So what hope did she have?

"Maybe so," she conceded, "but that doesn't mean they're flawless." The plea in her own gaze was twinged with sadness, and reflected his pain like a mirror. "Once you got used to them, they wouldn't seem that great."

When his fingers twitched in her hair; she curled hers between them, and he pulled her to him just a little closer. The hand at her nearly-bare hip began rubbing more firmly, back and forth and rolling the bone beneath in his palm, urging her to him with each returning pass.

"Just because they aren't flawless, does not mean they are not amazing."

She could see sincere regret in those deep violet pools, but she could not discern who it was for, or why. She supposed it didn't matter, and perhaps it was not for any one reason.

The both of them had plenty to regret, and hiding in opium smoke was not going to make any of it go away. Once the smoke cleared, their problems would still be there, waiting to be dealt with, and that day would be upon them soon.

But for now; she allowed a small smile to creep through, and nurture the hope she held tightly that things were not ruined between them; that he was starting to see that.

"Maybe," she conceded again, rubbing up and down his chest with her splayed palm. "But maybe they just aren't as good as you thought."

Something relatable, and sympathetic flashed across his features that gave her the wonderful, painful notion of being known; of knowing. And with that; a sense of relief that someone could actually understand something long thought to be specific to only them.

His hand slowed its motions until his fingers were barely there, ghosting a tickling pattern along her elastic band. He slipped one digit back behind it to run along the front, only to change course half-way and retreat back the way it came.

Her loins were on fire as his talented fingers taunted her, drawing memories and firsthand knowledge of just what they were capable of. She throbbed, and pulsed, and willed him to encroach further. Lower; to the tender, aching bud not far from where he grazed, or the empty core that clenched and salivated for only him.

But he didn't seem interested in that. Instead; he remained in a trance, lightly brushing her tiny panties with cautious, thoughtful fingertips. It gave way to a distressing thought as she recalled the beginning of their conversation.

"Do you only notice now because you are no longer trying to get inside them?"

He froze his ministrations, and a flash of clarity made him look like a hypnotist just snapped his fingers.

He released her abruptly and took a hasty step backward, and she felt the cold air acutely; instantly mourning his heat.

"I apologize," he told her stiffly, refusing to meet her eyes, and she gaped at the foreign sight.

He'd ignored her before, but he'd never avoided her. He'd never run.

"It's o-" she tried to assure him, but he was gone before she could; the hut's flap door fluttering closed in his wake.

"...kay."

He'd nearly collided with Miroku as he hurried himself inside.

The monk hadn't expected his abrupt return, and from the sheepish smile being leveled at him; Sesshoumaru knew without a doubt that the lecher had been listening. Probably even watching.

He pinned him with a cool glare as he strode past to his futon, and Miroku was more than happy to move out of his way.

He put his opium off to the side as he sat to remove his boots, while his roommate assumed his meditative pose; watching him all the while through a single cracked eyelid.

"It's very cold out tonight," the monk casually observed. "With that hole in her hut; Kagome-sama is going to freeze."

"She will manage."

He knew it was too much to hope for that meddlesome monk keep his counsel. But he was in no mood for the man's musings.

"We should let her stay in here," he suggested, not for the first time. Placing his boots neatly aside, Sesshoumaru looked across the room at him pointedly.

"She may take my place."

Despite the generous offer; Miroku frowned. "You know she won't go for it if you don't stay."

The others had already been around the block with her on this topic. She refused to put anyone else out, to the detriment of her own health and safety. But that wasn't his problem.

She was a grown woman; she was free to decide for herself. If she caught a cold, it would not be on his shoulders.

A moment passed in silence as the former demon prepared for bed, and in that time: Miroku had apparently given up on dancing around the issue.

"She's very sorry for what she's done. She feels awful."

Sesshoumaru stretched out on his back, and closed his eyes. After adjusting himself into a more comfortable position; he folded both arms behind his head.

"It does not change what she has done."

"Nothing will," Miroku countered. "You can't fix the past. If we could; I reckon both of us would have taken a trip or two, wouldn't we?"

It was only because the nosy monk held his tongue thus far that he had not threatened to sever it at the start of this exchange. But he was through indulging him.

He still did not know what he was going to do about the miko, but he didn't need his judgement clouded by the bias and crafty grifter.

"She is a very forgiving woman," he reminded him next. "Every kidnapping, or attempt on her life has become water under the bridge. She deserves a chance."

He would agree that she was forgiving. Far too forgiving, in his opinion.

He remembered the irrational spike in rage he felt once he learned of this pack's various offenses concerning her. She was foolish to take these men into her confidence after that.

He quickly reminded himself that he was a member of that club as well, but his position remained the same. She should never have allowed him as close as she had. He could easily have caused her harm. In fact, he was certain he had.

"Her insistence to help you suddenly makes a lot of sense," the monk admitted. "It seems she has done everything she could in an attempt to make things right. Aside from saving your life in that cave; she fought your brother to accept you into our pack and make your journey with you - and it has not been an easy one. You would not have found Rin if it wasn't for her."

"I would not have lost her."

"And," he continued, brushing over that minor detail, "I know she will not rest until she finds a way to make you demon again. She's trying," he said more softly, then sharpened his glare in accusation. "and it isn't like you were our best ally before all of this, either."

He definitely couldn't refute that, but he was supposed to be ignoring the man anyway.

"At the very least; she deserves to be repaid for her efforts in staving off frostbite. Surely your honor would dictate that."

It was a pathetic attempt to appeal to his moral code, but it wouldn't work. Her offenses far outweighed any good deeds she had done him, especially because any help he'd needed was in direct relation to the curse she had given him.

He knew it was an accident, and he wished that was enough to make it all okay. But it just wasn't. There was more to it than just that.

His resolve broke when he opened his eyes again, but he kept them trained on the ceiling above.

"I do not believe I can trust her."

And that was the crux of it. Even if he wanted to forgive her, and he knew good and well he did, his instinct would not allow him to accept one who sought to deceive him. It was a matter of survival, and etched into his bones.

The offenses themselves, he could forgive in time easily. That she took away his ability to trust her was what he could not forgive. How dare she take that from him?

Miroku looked on sadly at the troubled and conflicted man. He totally understood, and he felt bad for both of them.

"Give her a chance to earn it," he implored on his friend's behalf. "She deserves that much. Don't you think she's worth it?"

He watched Sesshoumaru carefully. Kagome was worth it, and he knew he knew that. He just had to break through that stubborn demeanor. "It's worth a try. Because if you don't; you lose. You lose her, and I know you don't want that."

Sesshoumaru seemed to be considering his position. He was a tactical guy. He just had to make him see that there were two possible outcomes here, and what he did now would determine which he would get.

"Kagome fucked up," he conceded whole-heartedly. "She fucked up bad, no one is denying that."

"She should have told me." Still looking up above, Sesshoumaru set his mouth in a deep scowl.

Miroku nodded his head. "Yes, she absolutely should have. But what's done is done. You can't change that; all you can do is move forward. If you want her in your life, then you have to forgive her."

Rin's unsolicited advice came barreling back at him. She'd told him the same thing.

And she was right. They both were. Rationally, he knew this.

So then why did it feel so wrong? Why was it so hard to accept?

"Do you want her to be miserable? Do you want to be?"

No. He wanted neither of those things.

But it was her actions - or lack thereof - that put them in this position, not his. He was not at fault.

"You know she never meant to hurt you. Mistakes happen, but you should only punish those who intended to do harm."

He finally turned to look at him then. That was an interesting take on it that he hadn't considered. In truth, he'd hoped the clever scholar would be able to talk him into making this all okay. Convince him to give in. He needed justification that his subconscious could get on board with. Otherwise, there would always be resentment.

"Kagome didn't intend any of this. But she's only human. We make mistakes; it's what we do. We evolve by learning from them."

'Only human?' he repeated, testing the phrase in his head.

Was being flawed a requirement of this race? He'd certainly agree that it was a trait all of humanity seemed to share, and it was by no means a revelation for him.

He would also agree that youkai were the more evolved species.

But, he would concede, not all of them.

He'd met many unscrupulous youkai throughout his many years, and not all demons were trustworthy, honorable beings. Very few, in fact. And far from infallible. Only he could claim such a thing. And with a sword to his throat; he would reluctantly admit that there were some grey areas even there.

So humans admit to being imperfect, but their remedy to that is to rectify the mistakes in their character. Something only those noble enough and humble enough to be self-aware would be able to even attempt.

This was something demons were less inclined to do, though it was not unheard of.

Another sword to his throat; he could admit he had little interest in changing anything about himself in that regard. If anything he had done could be construed as a mistake, the world would simply have to bend to make him right. He did not bend. Not ever.

Did that then stunt his own evolution?

Humans could not hope to be at his level, but was there any higher ascension that he could possibly reach?

Perhaps there was something to that. But it had nothing to do with race.

He'd already conceded to Kagome that luck of birth was not a fault or a failing, and he was wrong to place the blame on her kind for their shortcomings.

There, see? He had been wrong. When he had been demon.

Irksome that it took him being human to figure that out.

No, it didn't matter which race one claimed. On either side, it was entirely up to the individual to make themselves worthy, to ascend to greatness - whichever form that took.

Was acknowledging one's wrongs and striving to right them enough to warrant forgiveness? Was there any other recourse?

"Besides," Miroku interrupted as he saw his eyes begin to glaze... further. "I bet she'd be willing to do just about anything for you at the moment. Such guilt should not be wasted, my friend."

Sesshoumaru stared at him dispassionately as the monk waggled his brow, and decided he definitely preferred attornment to one who simply refused to improve.

Sesshoumaru peeled back the curtain on Kagome's hut, and muttered a short oath beneath his breath.

It was no warmer inside than the wilderness that surrounded them, and a quick glance around told him why. The small lantern across the room held the only surviving flame; the smoking embers proving the small fire she'd started in the hearth before drifting off to sleep had clearly not been enough to keep her warm throughout the winter night.

His eyes cut upward to the remaining hole in the ceiling, and he cursed he and his packmates' inefficiency with the job. Perhaps he should have been paying closer attention to that fool Tadaaki as he performed his work, but he was too busy actively not doing that.

They should have at least covered it with a sheet or something, and he vowed to do so if they did not finish the job tomorrow.

As he moved closer to the irori; he noticed the trembling form in the sleeping bag beside it. She had burrowed inside the flannel sheath, curling in on herself as she slept to consolidate as much heat as she could manage.

"Foolish woman," he muttered with a scowl, and gathered a few logs from the neatly stacked pile against the wall.

He had a decent fire blazing in no time, but it would take a while to raise the temperature inside the hut to something acceptable.

His eyes drifted to the hole again as wind whistled noisily through, and he briefly considered climbing up there to cover it with something. Alone in the dark, it would not be an easy task but-

A soft whimper hit his ears, and drew his attention back down to the shivering girl on the floor.

In a split second, a decision was made. Sesshoumaru quietly toed off his boots, brushing them against the wall with his foot. He reached for his obi next.

In no time; his haori was folded neatly beside his shoes on the floor, and he found himself kneeling at the opening of her bag.

He contemplated a moment on the least disruptive method of entry, before eventually taking down the zipper a ways and gently parting the material for access. As his body slid in beside hers and closed the zipper; Kagome drowsily came to.

"Sesshoumaru?" she asked, sounding as though she were still half in a dream. She offered no resistance as he covered her body with his own, careful to distribute his weight so as not to crush her.

His bare skin acutely felt the toll the cold winter night had taken. The silk yukata had clearly done her no favors, and the contrast of her frozen body tightly pressed against his warm one was stark enough to make his skin burn.

"You are freezing," he explained through a frown. There was admonishment in his unhappy tone. "I will stay until you are warm, and then the fire should aid you. You should have built a better one before sleeping."

His large hands were working feverishly to rub life back into her skin. Long, firm passes up and down her arms reduced the numbing somewhat, and it wouldn't be long before his soothing ministrations loosened constricted muscles weary from bracing against the cold.

She could almost taste his frustration above her, highlighted by the way he refused to meet her gaze. Instead, shaggy bangs fell between them like a curtain while he concentrated on getting her temperature up to something he deemed acceptable.

If he was looking, however, he would have been treated to her thankful smile. Sesshoumaru was a man of action more than words, and his irritation with her was clearly born of concern.

He still cared.

Satisfied with her arms for the moment; he moved his warm, rough hand down the length of her side, and up again a few times in rapid succession. When he traveled over the swell of her hip; the returning trip back caused the silk material to drag slightly up her thigh.

The skin there was ice cold; so he focused his energy on it, and did not complain when she lifted her arms to wrap around his broad shoulders, and began rubbing him back.

His face was hovering just below her chin, and she was staring at it intensely as a wave of bittersweet nostalgia rolled over the both of them.

"Here we are again," she awkwardly observed. His soft snort in return acknowledged the absurdity. "Less bruises this time."

"Hn," he agreed, flicking his gaze up to her. "More clothing."

Though not much. She rolled her palms down his upper arms before dragging them over his back, and crossing them back and forth behind his neck. His heated skin was very pleasing to the touch.

"Why did you take off your shirt?" she wondered, not that she was complaining. There was only hard muscle everywhere she felt, and she luxuriated in the feel of it beneath his smooth, flawless skin. "It's freezing."

He cocked a brow at her, but did not pause in his rubbing motions. "I was under the impression nudity was incremental in raising a human's body temperature."

She blushed at the accusation, but remained silent. Perhaps that was true in more extreme cases, or if his clothing had been sodden. But far be it for her to tell Sesshoumaru to put a shirt on.

Instead, she leaned in.

He lifted himself slightly, allowing her to wedge her hands between them so that she could undo the loose knot of her sash. She pulled the material open, but didn't remove it completely as she bared her lithe torso to him.

She still wore the underwear he'd fondled hours prior, but her breasts were now fully exposed, and she noticed his eyes linger there a moment before covering them once again with his own broad chest.

He pressed himself to her, and she held him tightly as skin met skin again in a long-awaited reunion.

The feel of him flush against her was a mourned, and very welcomed sensation. His rigid abdominals and sturdy hips pinning her to the floor served to ignite neglected desires so furiously that she had to resist the urge to wrap her legs around them.

And he in turn could not curb his craving to touch and rememorize every single inch of her that he'd been missing. His 'selfless' act of heating her body had already far overstepped the line of obligation, and turned into little more than a pleasure cruise.

He buried his nose in the crook of her shoulder, and sought her pulse with his lips – pressed tightly together by sheer force of will – as some base part of him he'd nearly lost instinctively sought her scent. Only faint whisps of her were able to slip past his feeble senses, and it frustrated him to no end.

But not as much as the involuntary mewl she released at the contact. He wasn't even certain she'd been aware of it, but she did drag her splayed hands up the back of his neck to weave themselves in the short, sweat-soaked strands behind his ears.

Their writhing forms perspired between them where they touched, and previously fluffy bangs were beginning to take on a much more humid quality.

This closeness was a comfort they both needed, and it continued wordlessly until he finally let himself relax atop her - resting his cheek on her shoulder, just above her breast.

She held him to her; raking her fingers through dampened locks in a half-combing, half-petting motion as they simply allowed his heat to transfer over to her. He let the constant drumming of her heartbeat lull him into calmed state, while a thousand 'what ifs' played through her ever-drifting mind.

She found herself gazing down thoughtfully at the black head of hair on her chest.

"You ever wonder what would have happened if we slept together that night in the cave?"

He tilted his face to meet her eyes and found she genuinely expected an answer. "It would have made our travels together much more enjoyable, for certain."

She smirked, and when she shifted beneath him; Sesshoumaru twisted to prop an elbow outside of each of her shoulders. He didn't remove his weight entirely, but enough to free her up a bit. The result had his face hovering just above hers, with nipples hard as stones pressed tightly into his chest.

"I wish we had, when we had the chance."

His eyes widened fractionally at the confession before she averted hers sorrowfully. "Before you hated me again."

He watched on as regret consumed her pretty features, twisting his lips into a frown. Guilt he'd kept buried beneath layers of hurt and forced disdain rooted through the surface, making his chest pinch uncomfortably.

"I never hated you."

Blue eyes returned to his instantly, in search of something she couldn't name. But though she was pleased - and relieved - to hear that; she couldn't find it in her to smile. Looking up at him now, into those human features; all she could see was plight, and pain, and it was she who put it there.

It seemed crazy to think that face could be considered at all damaged, but it was. From the surface all the way to the end of his injured violet depths was marred by the destruction she'd wrought.

How do you atone for something like that? She wished she knew.

But he was here, of his own accord. Even under the guise of an obligated packmate; she knew he was seeking something else, regardless of whether or not he was aware of it.

All she'd been wanting was a chance to talk to him, and to have him hear, and now she had him where she wanted him. More or less trapped, and if she spoke; he would be forced to listen. If only she knew what to say.

She supposed she could start with giving him the only thing he'd ever wanted from her. The truth.

"I've apologized all I can," she finally surmised aloud, "and there is nothing more I can say in that regard."

At last, she finally understood. He didn't need, or want, her words of apology. They were useless.

"I just wish I hadn't wasted so much time worrying about the future."

But so close, and face to face, he was no longer able to ignore her. Nor the conflicting clash of feelings he'd been trying so desperately to evade. Now he refused to look away, and from this distance; she looked utterly exhausted. The darkness beneath her eyes and a firm, resigned scowl made it impossible for him to avoid, and as bad as he felt before; knowing that – seeing it – pained him even further.

But that glint of fierce determination, that fire, ever present in her stunning ocean eyes was not completely snuffed out, and it eased his ache just a bit.

"I regret not being with you that way, and if I could call you mine for just a night, just a moment, I would be happy with that."

He hid his surprise well, simply watching on in interest as she continued her confession. And if she was embarrassed at all; her determination overrode it enough to keep it concealed.

"I can't change what happened. Unfortunately, I can't travel any further into the past than right now. But it's up to you how we go forward." Neither broke eye contact as she lifted her hands to rest on his shoulders, and resumed a light stroking motion.

He had her effectively caged in with his face suspended above hers, but she had him rendered motionless with only her words. Trapped in the pull of her gaze, with no means of escape.

"You think your choices have been taken, that you've lost control over your world. But you still have the power to dictate your future. How do you want your life to go from here?"

Remnants of the monk's lecture began filtering into his brain, followed by Rin's. They were things he'd vowed to think on, but the opium made it hard to concentrate too effectively. It was hard, even now.

But she seemed to take his thoughtful pause as a sign he was considering her, and that encouraged her to keep going.

"It's up to you. You can choose to never forgive me, and go on resenting me for my mistake forever." Finally then, the barest hints of hope curled up the corners of her mouth. "Or you can forgive me, and try to put this behind us. And if you do, I promise you won't regret it." Her assurances were offered with conviction, and she stopped rubbing him to emphasize the importance. "How are we going to deal with this?"

And that was the question, laid out as plainly as it could possibly be, he supposed.

And he just didn't know. He knew what he wanted, and what he definitely didn't want. But when had that ever mattered for anything?

"We all make mistakes," she added, seeing him begin to waver, "it's just a part of being human. Another part is learning how to live with yourself after."

Only human. That was what the monk said. But looking down at the face of the woman who'd stood beside him, laid beneath him and fought against him countless times; he realized the man was only half right.

There was no 'only' about her. Or him.

But he was wrong on another account. They all were.

They said there were two options; they said he could choose his path. But he realized then that he never had a choice.

There was always only one option.

"The wish was a mistake," he finally declared, glaring sternly into the troubled features just inches below his. "A stupid, thoughtless mistake, but a mistake all the same."

Obvious shame was present in her expression when his hardened even further. "It is the weeks of lying that is so difficult for me to forgive. How do I get through to you, foolish woman?"

"You did," she assured him viciously, and grabbed his shoulders tight. "I swear you did. Ask me anything, anything and I will tell you. I will never lie to you again, no matter what."

Her desperate plea hung between them as he considered her for a long, heart-stopping moment.

He wanted it to be the case as much as she did, but he remained uncertain that she could follow through, even if she intended to.

But he saw an opportunity here, and he was going to seize it. There was one claim she made that had always triggered doubt in his mind, no matter how many times she vowed it. If he was ever going to get an honest answer; he figured now was likely the occasion.

"Would you truly wish to remain with This One in his demon form," he asked gravely, "after all I have done? If it did not put either of us in danger, would you wish to belong to the real me?"

He was studying her very intently, but she didn't need to think about it at all. She took a moment to smile nonetheless. "In a heartbeat."

He still wasn't fully convinced, though he did believe she thought she was being truthful. At least he had her on the record, but he supposed it didn't matter. He would never be demon again anyhow, so why dwell upon it?

There were much more efficient uses of his time and energy, and two of them were stabbing painfully into his chest at the moment. She clearly wasn't warm enough.

When he shifted slightly and began to pull away; a rush of panic coursed through her, but she soon realized his perceived retreat was simply a slight readjustment.

Maintaining her gaze as he drifted lower down her body; Sesshoumaru stopped to hover above her aching breasts. She could only watch on, excitement, and anticipation filling every open space as her brain, and her breath emptied out. Once settled, he dipped his head and wrapped his lips around a tightened peak.

Kagome cried out in relief as she threw back her head, and the hands gripping his shoulders slid easily into his hair. She pulled him closer, demanding more as he used the heat of his mouth to relax her painfully stiff nipple.

His tongue slid frantically over the hardened bud, flicking back and forth endlessly to make the tissue soften. She forced his face into her generous breast more harshly, causing the fat to disperse and expand around his face.

Grinding shamelessly into his firm torso; she did little to restrain her reaction to his touch. In return, he sucked harder on her tender flesh as he used his moist heat to ease her tension, and soothe her pain. And by extension, his own.

By the time the bud atop her breast had softened; his hair was messed up beautifully. His sweat-soaked strands stole the moisture from her palms, and her treatment of them left him looking deliciously feral.

He chanced another look as he transferred to the other breast and found himself the subject of her half-lidded gaze.

Another moan was released into the air as he began the wonderful torture anew, making up for her recent absence by letting his tastebuds finally get their fill.

He hadn't enjoyed himself with her the first time he'd done this. At least, that was what he told himself. But this time he would not be so foolish.

He let himself bask, and appreciate, and acknowledge his attraction to this woman, and assured himself it was okay.

She appeared to be doing the same; losing herself to sensation, and making no attempt to withhold her natural reaction to him.

When her firm, constricted peaks were reduced to jello; he finally removed himself.

She mourned the loss of him with a short whine as he crawled his way back up her trembling form, locking her in his hungry gaze as he prowled closer.

Her yukata was wide open, falling from her shoulders uselessly as he planted his elbows outside of them. Suspended above her; he felt his saliva returned to him when her nipples brushed teasingly against his chest.

He held himself there a moment; looking down into needy, lustful eyes, but hated the twinge of fear he detected. When he vowed to never hurt her, he meant physically, but that wasn't what she was afraid of now. Not anymore.

His gaze drifted to her lips, and lingered covetously while her hands slid down to rest over his collar bone.

He was close enough to tickle her with his sodden bangs, and breath as it mingled and danced with hers. His bare skin was warm under her palms when he finally lowered his head, and gently covered her mouth with his own.

Her fingers curled against his naked flesh as her eyes slammed closed to help her revel in the familiar feeling. As eager as they both were; this kiss was careful, and unrushed. Soft lips moved together slowly, savoring the moment and drawing it out as long as possible.

It wasn't until his teeth grazed her bottom lip, and he pulled it gently between them in a playful bite that she opened herself to him in invitation.

He seized it slowly also; taking his time to run his tongue along her abused flesh in apology, and placed a chaste kiss there before finally taking her up on her offer.

The slick appendage breached her entrance with confidence, quickly meeting her own and sliding himself over its expanse.

As they continued kissing; he felt her hand begin to travel lower. Sliding past his pebbled nipple; she continued on her path until reaching the defined muscles in his stomach. She moaned into his mouth as she stoked him there, letting her fingertips glide over each individual abdominal appreciatively before resuming her journey southbound.

Grabbing tightly at his shoulder; she forced her other hand past his waistband and through the soft curls above his pubic region.

When at last she reached her goal, and slid her palm over his shaft; what she found there gave her pause. She hesitantly closed her fingers around him and felt something she hadn't since their first night together in the cave.

That was the last time she'd encountered him soft. She'd almost forgotten it could be that way around her.

The first time made sense. He'd almost died; he was cold. And he was no fan of hers whatsoever.

But now, he was kissing her; he'd been licking her tits. Why wasn't he turned on?

Did she not excite him anymore? Was he really that mad at her? Mad enough to thwart biology?

He must have picked up on her budding panic and insecurity as she tensed beneath him and her lips became unresponsive.

He pulled away, officially ending the kiss, and looked down at her apologetically.

"The opium makes it... hard," he explained gently, in response to her unasked question.

He looked slightly embarrassed as she registered his meaning, and felt herself relax.

Her shame washed away, but appeared to be seeping into him somewhat at her discovery. She sought to ease the discomfort the only way she knew how.

"It doesn't; that's the problem," she replied with an awkward smirk, and was pleased when he huffed in amusement.

She'd never considered that as a possible side-effect, and a hopeful part of her wondered if that was perhaps part of the reason he'd tempered his desire for her so masterfully.

She didn't doubt his anger at her was more than enough to do the trick, but if his desire was stripped away all together; it might have made it easier for him.

Maybe not, but it assuaged her worries that he could ignore his attraction to her so effortlessly.

Still, it was worrisome all the same.

She fixed him with an uneasy smile, and offered her gentle suggestion. "Maybe it's finally time to stop."

She hadn't been able to convince him to quit so far, but if it was starting to affect his libido; maybe he was finally willing to listen.

Plus, he didn't have so much to worry about with Rin anymore, and he was talking to her again... Maybe he would let her soothe his pain instead.

There was something light and thoughtful in his eyes as he gazed down into hers, and the small smile that graced his lips was promising.

"Perhaps you are right," he conceded, and lifted a hand to brush away her wayward bangs.

She smiled dazzlingly in response, and prompted him to make a hushed promise. "I can still keep you warm," he assured her, sparkling mischievously.

Pleasantly confused, she pulled her hand out of his pants to wrap her arms around his shoulders as he shifted his weight onto one elbow. Moving slightly to the side of her; he surprised her by sliding his hand inside her panties and instantly found the swollen bundle of nerves.

She drew in a sharp gasp as he stoked her there, running his two fingers between her outer lips and drawing pleasing patterns into her flesh.

Their noses were nearly touching as he commanded her gaze, relishing the faces she made as he played with her clit. Her eyes slammed shut to focus on his touch, and she bucked greedily into his hand as he refamiliarized himself with the slick flesh between her legs.

His lips parted slightly when he traveled lower to rub against her opening and felt how wet she was already. She gasped again at the contact, and let her jaw hang open at the sensation as he cruelly teased her around the perimeter.

She whined in protest when he abruptly removed his hand, but quickly understood his reason when he lifted his two probing fingers to rest upon her lips. He was still watching her intently, and she held his gaze as she opened her mouth and slowly took them in all the way.

He loved watching himself slip inside her, and drew out the show for his enjoyment. The feel of her strong lips wrapped tightly around him as her tongue got in on the action was heavenly. And the look of her concave cheeks as she applied her sucking pressure would be forever burned inside his brain.

When she reached the base; she closed her eyes in bliss and made a show of sucking them all the way back to the tip, and back down again. He groaned at the sight she made, and the sensation as she lubed herself up to be penetrated.

Then, she grabbed his hand with both of hers; watching him watching her unfold his ring finger to enter her mouth as well.

His eyes became hooded as he watched her fellate all three at once, working her neck and her tongue to get him prepared, and to entice.

He still wasn't hard, and he vowed to himself right then to take what little was left of that opium and throw it in the fire.

When his fingers left her mouth for the last time, he shoved them back inside her underwear and used just one to part her opening.

He eased himself in gently, and as she gripped him; memories came flooding back in an instant.

He had been demon then, so his finger wasn't quite as long, nor his senses as acute, but the way she squeezed just one little digit so snugly caused his breath to leave his lungs in a long, shaky gasp.

Buried to the last knuckle; he reveled in the tight, wet feeling a moment and let his eyelids drift shut.

"You have not been preparing for me," he accused breathily, pulling out almost completely before entering her to the hilt again.

"Y-you were supposed to do it."

He cracked an eye at her, followed by the other as he took in her quaking form.

He was trembling too, he realized, and forced himself to calm.

"So I was."

He eased himself in and out a few more times to let her get used to the sensation before positioning the second finger at her entrance.

Her breathing became rougher as her pulse began to race.

Panting slightly above her; he waited to have her attention before he continued. He was looking upon her with genuine concern. "I do not want to hurt you."

"Neither do I," she answered breathily, features turning sad and soft. "and I am so sorry I did."

His expression mirrored her pain, while at the same time his two fingers teased her lower opening.

"I know."

She grabbed his upper arms to stop him as he began to enter, and he obediently froze.

"When you hurt, I hurt," she needed him to know. "Just like you said after the bridge; what happens to you, happens to both of us. I just want you to be happy."

He scanned her face a moment from above, before the ghost of a smile relayed his contentedness. That made her smile back.

Then, he resumed penetration.

A pleasured cry left her throat as he carefully wedged her open, sawing both fingers in and out. The nerves inside relished the drag of his flesh, and the bite of her nails into his shoulders was interpreted as approval.

He watched her wince, and scream, and bite her lip in pleasure; savoring every way he could make her face contort with just a slip of his wrist.

She was still so tight, and he nearly reconsidered adding the third digit, but if she were ever going to be able to accept him; he would need to stretch her out at least a little. The last time was terribly frustrating, and would not be repeated.

He groaned low in his throat when she finally took all three. Prying her apart very slowly at first; she soon got over the initial discomfort. He descended on her throat as she bared it to him, dragging his mouth over all her favorite spots as she threw back her head to moan her appreciation.

Her firm grip around him had loosened only slightly, but it was a start. When he added his thumb to rub practiced circles into her clit as well; she began thrusting into his hand to increase the friction, and he knew she was close.

He watched her face display the telltale signs of her impending orgasm. He watched her tremble, and seize, before becoming completely stiff and letting the feeling wash through her.

A sharp, loud cry signified her release, and a sense of relief washed over him as well.

How he'd missed that.

Flat on her back and gasping for breath; she barely registered when he slid out of her, and proceeded to use his tongue to lick himself clean of her juices. She released her grip on his shoulders, freeing him as well and leaving several small crescents in the wake of her own formidable fingertips.

He continued to loom over; panting heavily onto flushed skin with hot, shaky breath. He loved watching her slowly regain her senses, and relished pridefully that it was he who took her so far from them.

Her chest rose and fell dramatically in his periphery, and he let his gaze wander down until stopping upon her soft, pillowy breasts. His lips twisted into a slight frown, however, as he noticed faintly broken skin around the perimeter of her areolas. But it was quickly remedied.

Smirking; he lifted his hand that was still damp, but now free of her ejaculate and took her in his palm. Grateful, appreciative noises were made as he kneaded and lightly squeezed, until dark lashes fluttered open to find kind eyes watching beneath his perspiring brow.

"You are warm," he announced, taking her relaxed nipple as proof. Her warm, sweat-sheened skin was another clue. "I think my debt is finally repaid."

No, he hadn't exactly saved her life tonight, as she had done for him. But she could have caught a cold. And he had saved her life since then, so he was willing to call it close enough.

"You don't owe me anything," she assured him nonetheless, and he released her.

He reached to remove a few locks out of her eyes, tucking them gently behind her ear with care.

"I do," he insisted. "One thing more." She watched on curiously, nearly losing herself in his doting features as he lightly brushed her cheek. "I never thanked you, for saving me that night."

No, he hadn't. But she hadn't expected him to. She knew outward expressions of gratitude just weren't his way, but she had learned to read them in his behavior. Still, it felt nice to hear it.

"Being truthful; I wished more than once that you had left me in that snowy bank."

Initially stunned; her expression turned somber at the heartbreaking admission. "But if you had, Rin would still be with those tigers."

But just like that; the acknowledgement he offered settled over her like a warm blanket. It didn't wipe it all away, but absorbed and diluted the feeling until it no longer dominated her.

He was recognizing the impact of her assistance, and validated it. He was telling her with sincerity that even though it was her doing, her efforts to rectify it were appreciated.

Tears began to well, but her blurry vision could detect a change in him then. Though she couldn't recognize what it was; it was something genuine.

"And if you hadn't, I would also never have known..."

He appeared to struggle for a moment as his statement drifted off into the air around them. She waited on baited breath for him to finish his thought, but he either didn't know, or couldn't say the rest.

It would be left for her to interpret. It would be up to her if she wished to allow herself to feel hope like that again, despite all the good it had done her.

But for now; it was more than enough to satisfy her, and bring her turbulence to a halt at long last. At least for a moment.

He looked down at her appreciatively, and she forgot to breath. "So, thank you, Kagome."

She placed her hand over his, and latched on as he clasped his fingers over hers.

"You're welcome."

They gazed at each other a moment, and she rested her free hand on his chest, sliding it up to smooth apologetically over the broken skin.

"What are you thinking?" he wondered aloud, and she smiled a little wider.

"The same thing I was thinking the last time we were like this. That you were the most beautiful man I had ever seen."

He returned her smile, releasing her hand from his to rub along her collar bone.

"What are you thinking?"

Her question came out husky as he stroked beneath her throat, and down between the valley of her breasts. She hissed when he came back up, arching her back as he buried his nose in her shoulder, surrounding himself in her scent.

"I miss touching you."

He moved himself over her again, running his large hand all the way down to her thigh as his lips brushed along her neck. He pressed himself into her, tracing back up her side while nuzzling her bare skin, and she wrapped her arms around his back to pull him even closer.

"Does that mean you forgive me?" he heard her ask, and lifted his head.

The only answer she would receive was him pressing his lips to hers, as they spent the rest of the night making up for lost time.

The fire continued to roar wildly in the background, but he stayed to add his heat long after the hut was warm.

The next morning, he woke up in her sleeping bag alone.

A groggy glance at his surroundings told him a fresh fire had been lit in the hearth, and he was pleased to find the temperature in the hut was much better than it had been when he'd entered it.

He scanned the room, and finally found what he was looking for when the miko's image came into view. Sitting off to the side; she held her notebook against her knees while chewing on her writing utensil, apparently deep in thought.

He smiled, stretching slightly before flipping over on his stomach, and folding his arms in front of him as he propped up on his elbows. She noticed the movement, and turned to find him gazing happily at her, albeit with a cocked brow.

"I'm working on fixing your problem," she explained, answering his silent question. "Now that Rin's cured, it's time to focus on you."

His smile fell away as he set his mouth in a firm line.

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate her motivations, but he did not embark in pointless endeavors. As far as he saw it; it was a lost cause.

"I will change you back," she assured him, sensing his doubt. "I know I can find a way. Trust me."

It was a bold thing to ask, all things considered. But then again, her previous claims had rung true.

Before going to the future; she'd told him her poor track record and desire to prove herself would make her even more tenacious. She had nearly as much riding on fixing him as he did. And she had come through on her last promise, even though it ended up being unnecessary.

"What have you got to lose?"

Nothing, he supposed. But only because that was what he had. Should she fail, he would be no worse off than he was right then.

Fine. If she wanted his trust, he would grant it. He would suspend disbelief and entertain a return to youkai status as something possible.

He watched her rise, and make her way over to him with her cushion. When she threw it down in front of him, and knelt upon it; he responded by reaching out, and running a hand up her bare thigh, just under her skirt.

She swatted him away, realizing that she was taking this much more seriously than he was.

"I have an idea I've been working on, but I need your help."

He shifted more comfortably on his arms as she readied her pen.

"Let's make a list," she suggested, flipping to a blank page. "What have you learned about humans that you didn't know before?"

He was instantly taken back to the night he had coaxed her into a similar activity, and briefly wondered if this was only an exercise in confidence building.

Seeing him hesitate; she got the ball rolling. "How weak they are."

He scoffed. "I already knew that."

"Yes, you knew of it," she replied, slightly annoyed. "But you didn't know what it felt like. You've probably never lost a fight before." With a devious smile, she added, "Well, not to a human at least."

He scowled, easily reading the subtext. 'A hanyou, on the other hand...'

But she happily ignored it, scratching down the answer in her book. "Okay, so you've learned what human weakness feels like. What else?"

He understood her purpose now, and gave it some thought. "Helplessness," he admitted with a frown. "Being insufficient."

"Friendship?" she pitched hopefully, taking down his responses. "Caring about people. Teamwork."

"Pain," he added. Even minor blows hurt much worse than anything he'd sustained as a demon. It was really amazing they could get on at all.

"Guilt, maybe? Shame?" If he felt those things as a demon, he certainly didn't show it.

As she wrote, he fixed her with a weighty glare.

"Lust." Her pen stopped moving, and looked up at him. Then he clarified, "Uncontrollable lust."

She would agree that he had been more... amorous than she'd ever believed him capable. But perhaps that was just a side of himself he normally kept hidden.

"Embarrassment?" she added, cheeks pinkening. "Fear of failure?"

"Failing in general is something of which I am unaccustomed," he amended, "as well as fear." Though she noticed he didn't refute it.

Unable to help herself, a tiny smile broke through. "What about Tetsusaiga?" she taunted. Surely the sting of that failure had not been forgotten.

He glared at her flatly, and her smile only grew. "I have never known restraint until meeting the likes of you."

She gathered he was referring to the violent tendencies she tempted, as opposed to the lustful ones. His expression and tone also alluded to such.

She wrote it down either way.

"What else have I taught you?" she asked happily, and earned a thoughtful pause.

"Selflessness," he supplied, softening quite a bit. "Though I am not certain if I can learn it by observing."

He reached for her again, and this time; she didn't swat him away.

"You rescued us from prison," she pointed out instead, blushing slightly.

"Entirely selfish, I assure you."

"Uh-huh." Thinking a moment, she added, "Compassion. Protection."

"Rin already taught me those things." She grinned, but still added them to the list of things he knew.

"Relying on family. On pack."

"Cooking?" he floated, still stroking her thigh. "Massages?"

"Kissing?" she threw in, and blushed harder. "Never mind, I'm sure you've done that before."

"And if I hadn't?" he asked playfully, and she gave him a flat stare.

"Then, you're a natural. Besides, I know you've had sex before." She faltered a moment, considering perhaps she was being presumptuous about the particulars of demon mating. She'd always just assumed...

"Unless... Do demons do it differently?" Not that she knew how humans did it, personally, but she had the internet.

"Perhaps, when I am myself again, you will find out."

He startled her with his breezy statement, but she brushed it off when she read his accompanying smile as teasing. "I thought when you were yourself again, you were leaving us."

"I am leaving this village," he clarified, but she kept her eyes on her paper as she wrote.

"See? That means we can't."

"Does it?"

"Yes," she insisted confidently, and curtly. "We've talked about this, and we both agreed it was a bad idea."

"Perhaps I am learning to reconsider my decrees as well."

He was far too quick and careless with his responses for her taste. She was glad they were on good terms again, but it changed nothing about their situation. She did not want to go around the block with him on this another time.

"You don't mean that." 'Or you better not,' was written all over her face and posture.

"Have I ever spoken an untruth to you? Out of the two of us, you are the dishonest one."

"I didn't exactly lie," she countered defensively, then lifted her chin. "I omitted. For my safety, by the way."

He scoffed and removed his hand from her knee. "You had my word I would not harm you."

"You said you wouldn't kill me," she reminded him pointedly. "Harm was not off the table."

"Do you think I intend to harm you?"

She took a moment to answer, and he condemningly lifted his brow.

"Maybe not on purpose," she finally conceded. "But after you bring me out West for a few days, maybe a few weeks, then you get sick of me-"

"Miko, we have traveled together for nearly two moon cycles," he pointed out firmly. "I am not going to get any more sick of you than I already am."

"You're putting up with me because you have no other option." When he frowned at her, she forced her demeanor to lighten. "Once you are a big, important demon again; you won't want me cramping your style."

His scowl only persisted, and deepened at her assessment of him. And her flippancy.

"You presume much."

"Look," she huffed, slamming her pen flat against her notebook. "I will do everything I can to get you demon again. And it's not because I want to get rid of you. Trust me, its despite it. But whatever we're doing..." she gestured between them, "it can't continue."

He looked irritated, and upset as the mood in the room turned somber. Trying to save it; she lifted her chin resignedly and tried to project confidence. "The Lord of the West does not consort with mikos. And Kagome does not leave her friends and her life for some hot fling."

He hated being referred to as such, and he hated the idea of anything standing in the way of what he wanted. And he wanted her; he'd already decided.

Perhaps Rin's retrieval and upgrade in condition had bolstered his confidence and lessened his guilt somewhat, but since Toran's visit; he'd been walking on new air.

It was one thing if he were human, and perhaps it was his human weaknesses and insecurities that even allowed him to entertain he could be vanquished. But in his demon form; he was unstoppable.

Rin never would have been taken, and Kagome would never be harmed, should he ever change back.

It was a longshot anyway, so the argument was very likely moot. But as long as they were pretending he might change back, could they not pretend he could get everything he wanted? Everything they both wanted?

At least, she'd claimed it was what she wanted.

"You are all welcome to stay in the West," he offered firmly, and officially. "Your aid has more than earned you-"

"We don't want to move in with you."

He hid the pain of her statement well, covering it expertly with hardened features.

"You would speak for your friends?" he asked, and despite his façade; she could tell she'd offended him. It made her soften her approach.

"I can't move in with you."

She knew he was displeased, and she hated it. But she forced herself to steel, still unwilling to put him in the position Izayoi had put his father in.

"I will be by your side for as long as you're human," she assured him gently, reaching out to touch his arm as he purposefully looked away. "And if that turns out to be the rest of our lives, then I will know I failed you. My goal is to get you back to you, so you can move on with your life. And so can we."

It was so cold, so clinical, so unlike her of a response that he couldn't help but turn to her in scrutiny.

He knew it was coming from a place of concern, but her lack of faith in him was more than a little insulting.

This woman used to follow her heart at all costs. What happened to her?

The answer was clear, and cut him to the bone.

"You taught me something else I have never known until now," he said through darkened features. "Rejection. Disappointment. Regret."

He saw sadness taint her eyes before she averted them downward, but was not deterred.

"I wonder what I have taught you," he continued instead, resentfully. "Apathy? Indifference? Cold-heartedness? Cruelty?"

She kept her lips sealed as he removed himself from her bag and grabbed his haori off the floor.

"You said you would wish to remain with This One." He reminded her of the claim she'd made just last night, and she heard the underlying accusation. 'Did you lie to me again? As you swore you never would?'

But he left out a very important part, and he knew it.

"If it wasn't dangerous, but it is. Putting you in danger is the one thing I won't do for you."

Perhaps he should be pleased of her concern for him, but he only found it insulting. Insinuating that anyone could possibly best him in his demon form.

Once dressed; he stood before her until she looked up at him from where she still knelt.

"You have my invitation to join me in the West once this is all over. There, we can share the fruits of our success together."

Striding past her to the door, prepared to leave; he cast one last look her way.

"If you decline," he warned her darkly, "do not cite demon prejudice as your reason for refusing. That would in fact be human error."

There was a hot spring very close by that the miko was quite fond of, but Sesshoumaru preferred the cold bite of the nearby stream.

The cloud was finally beginning to lift from his weeks-long drug-induced haze, and he hoped a refreshing wash in the freezing water would help to sober his messy thoughts.

Clarity came at a cost, however, as he was forced all at once to inventory and assess everything he'd been artfully avoiding, as well as endure the return of thoughts and feelings that were proving quite uncomfortable in stark contrast to the 'nothing' he'd been reveling in for weeks.

Beside a large bolder for privacy; he lathered himself up with the soap the miko had given him. He scrubbed vigorously, removing layers of sweat from his muscular frame and out of his hair, and submerged himself in the ice-cold water.

At least his skin could be numb. He wished he could say the same for the rest of him, but illness was spreading through every organ, screaming at him to take his medicine. He would not comply.

He distracted himself from his pains by indulging in another form of torture, and obsessing over the miko's refusal of him.

Why did it bother him so much? It wasn't like he was ever going to be demon again anyway, so why waste the energy?

She would remain with him while human, and he would be human until his death, so why fight about it?

Perhaps it was the rejection that irked him. Or her belief that his demon self could actually be defeated.

Or maybe it was that little voice that told him she still did not fully accept him in that form, and never would.

He supposed it could be a little of all of those. But none of them mattered. If he was cursed to live his days in mortal flesh, none of those things would ever be an issue either of them had to contend with, so it was foolish to think on them.

There was another part of all this that bothered him, however, and it was something that could not be avoided. In fact, it would be ever present, every second of every day until one of them died.

He'd accused her once of scheming to have him remain as human, to keep him near. But he saw the conviction in her eyes when she vowed never to rest until she'd cured him of the curse she unknowingly bestowed upon him.

Another self-imposed duty to make him whole, and her recompense complete.

He didn't doubt it had more to do with the former, but it all amounted to the same thing.

He did not wish to be human, but he was willing to accept his fate. She, however, was going to torture herself with this pointless task for the rest of her days.

Every day, she would be doing all that she could to make him demon; all the while, presumably making a life by his side. That part didn't sound so bad to him, except that with her refusal; it meant she would be actively working against her own happiness. Either way, she lost. Either way, he would be the reason she could never be truly happy.

If she could either give up on trying to fix him, or agree to come along when she did, she could be happy with him. But she would do neither. He was so tired of bringing human women pain; ruining their lives.

And it would be in his face every day. It would wear her down. He would.

As much as he wanted her, he couldn't deny she would be far better off without him.

But she would never cast him off, and he couldn't leave without hurting her. Hell, she'd probably track him down.

He didn't want this for her. And truthfully, he didn't want it for himself.

A mortal life by her side would be acceptable, even perhaps enjoyable, if it were not to her detriment. But it would be far from ideal.

And with her throwing her life away to pursue some pointless endeavor that would never be achieved; it made the notion downright unbearable.

He couldn't imagine living like that for fifty years. Only to what? Die of some human illness, if he was lucky? He was a warrior, for kami sake. The only honorable life and death was one by the sword.

Living out his days human was not ideal, but dragging her along for the miserable ride would be excruciating. He couldn't do it. But what choice did he have?

How could he get her off this sinking ship while inflicting the least amount of damage?

His musings were cut short when he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder.

Sliding his gaze downward; it narrowed in annoyance as he discovered the source.

He put an end to it with a firm slap, and peeled his palm away to reveal the old flea pancaked against his skin.

"Myoga," he acknowledged darkly, and returned to washing himself in the waist-deep stream. "I must have truly weakened if you found the nerve to enter my presence willingly, let alone feast upon This One."

With a pop; the youkai filled out again, and immediately assumed a submissive pose; bowing several times in rapid succession as stress tears flew out of his eyes.

"I apologize master. I have traveled a long way in a very short time; I am desperately in need of sustenance. I assure you; I am terrified."

"Then why are you here?" he asked dispassionately, not bothering to look his way.

"The Western Lands are under attack."

That got his attention, and he finally deigned to turn his head. "Or they're about to be. A rogue tiger youkai has been spreading rumors about milords, um..." he fumbled cautiously, "condition. At least, I prayed they were rumors."

That explained his lack of surprise.

He'd worried about that. Shit.

He'd hoped his visit to the Northern Lord on his demon night would buy him some time, but appears to have been cut short. He should have tracked him down once Rin was safe, instead of-"

"Your guard posts in the South have come under siege. A neko youkai has partnered with an elemental to corrupt a number of your soldiers, and there are others who wish to do the same. News of your humanity has stirred deep unrest, and even turned some of them against you." Myoga twiddled his hands together nervously, while casting Sesshoumaru a wary glance. "They do not wish to serve a human."

He knew that would become a problem sooner or later, but he was hoping for later.

He was already aware there were some traitors working with the pumas and elemental youkai, per Juzo himself, but that issue had been pushed to the backburner. It wasn't like he could have done much about it.

But they were planning these attacks in all the lands, not just the West. News of his... condition must have put him in their crosshairs, and sped the process along. He could expect much more of the same.

"The Fortress?" he demanded tersely.

"Stands. Your general has the soldiers bracing for an attack, however. The rogue has gathered his allies and they are making their way West as we speak."

That was actually a relief. If his general was aware of the impending attack, his foes would be defeated capably.

"My soldiers are more than equipped to handle a rogue threat."

"I thought so too, sire. But Toran-sama insisted I come. She wished me to tell you that 'he has the magic,' whatever that means." Myoga paused thoughtfully. "What does that mean?"

Shit. He should have known. No way that tiger would risk his neck running his mouth unless he had his secret weapon. Not to mention charging into his territory head on.

The question was; what allies were he coming with? And how many were there?

"At any rate," the flea continued, seeing he would not receive a response, "she wishes to assure you that she is ordering all of her forces West to assist you, but she is wary of what she may encounter when she arrives. News of your humanity has spread like wildfire, and many will wish to see for themselves... and will almost certainly make a play for your lands."

At least he had Toran. She knew this magic, and the nekos, better than anyone, he assumed. And she was a formidable force in battle with strong allies.

Still, it did not sit right to have others defending what was his.

"I see," he finally said, followed by a long moment of silence. When he felt tiny eyes boring into him, however, he looked down irritably at his shoulder. "What?"

His menacing demand had Myoga fumbling with his hands again.

"Um, perhaps milord would like to... appoint someone."

"Name a successor, you mean."

He'd considered it himself, but so far, had been unable to come to a decision. Even giving the matter thought caused his blood to boil.

"If you do not choose, I fear the power vacuum will bring every ambitious youkai with an ounce of hubris out of the woodwork. I would hate to see the West end up in the wrong hands."

The old flea jumped when pinned with Sesshoumaru's heavy glare. "Any hands but mine are the wrong ones."

"Yes sir. I agree," he groveled, bowing down once more. Then, he tentatively lifted his head. "But who would you like me to tap?"

He considered Myoga a long moment, causing the old flea to produce sweat, until finally – mercifully – he looked away.

"No one," he announced stoically, "I shall face the threat myself."

Already bug-eyes grew buggier, and he began to flail in panic.

"But milord-"

"They are my lands," he was quick to remind. "If any wish to take them from me, they must do it by force."

"You'll be killed."

"Most likely," he conceded.

"It needn't be!"

"What do you suggest I do?" He was being condescending, but he really did want to know. Perhaps he would learn today why his father kept on the old advisor.

"Your foes may know you are human, but nobody knows where you are. I highly suggest you remain here."

"For how long?" he demanded.

Myoga stuck his hands his sleeves. "Forever." When Sesshoumaru's lip curled in a fangless sneer, he added, "Or as long as you are like this, at least."

Nope. Still had no idea why his father retained him.

"You suggest that I hide. Why does that not surprise me?"

"If you go, it will be suicide."

"Better than to concede defeat," he decided. "I shall die in battle; I could not live with myself otherwise."

Of all the options he'd considered, it was the first one that actually felt right. It aligned with his gut and his heart, and it felt good to finally have them all in agreement.

If he could never be demon again; dying in battle, protecting what was his, was the only suitable option remaining to him.

Not to mention, with him gone in a blaze of glory, Kagome and Rin would finally be free. They could get on with their lives, and not need to concern themselves with his any longer. It was perfect.

"But what about your loved ones?" Myoga implored. "They would be heartbroken."

He forced a scoff, then insisted, "I have no one."

"That is not how it appeared."

The ensuing silence warned the old flea to tread carefully, but only served to delay him. He normally wouldn't press the Western Lord - he valued his life after all - but things were growing more dire by the second. He was getting desperate.

"You and Kagome-sama have become... close."

Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed dangerously, causing the youkai to recoil.

"Did Toran tell you that?"

"No, milord."

He thought a moment on who else could have possibly alerted him to such a thing, and began to panic. Who else out there knew about Kagome? If word got out about how close she was to him, they would eventually come for her. This was exactly what he was trying to avoid.

But no one was coming to mind. He certainly hadn't flaunted their connection, nor his identity for that matter, throughout their little journey. He thought he had been careful, but perhaps he had become complacent.

Just when he was going to demand answers, another option hit him like a steel block.

When he spoke next; his voice contained an extra layer of ice.

"When exactly did you arrive in this village?"

Knowing he was caught; Myoga floundered nervously. He really hoped this wouldn't come up.

"Well, uh, last night, if you really needed to know." Suspicions confirmed, Sesshoumaru sharpened his already very pointy glare. "I would have come to you sooner," he assured him defensively, "but when I found you, you were, er... otherwise occupied."

So he had been spying on him. He hated not having his demon senses.

He should kill the flea right now for seeing Kagome in that state. He actually might have, had his priorities not given him pause.

He should want to kill him for witnessing him in such a humiliating position; seeing to a mortal's pleasure. But he wasn't humiliated. Not at all.

In fact, the offense little more than annoyed him.

"You have a very enviable set up right here, milord. Most men would-"

"I am not most men."

Myoga silenced. That was true.

Nonetheless, he continued to try and convince him.

"I see no reason for you to sacrifice yourself. Let your allies defend you for once; you've earned the right to sit out just one fight."

"And what about the next?" he demanded sharply. "And the one after that? Once everyone knows; they will come for me soon enough."

"Not if they don't know where you are."

The flea hoped to god his silence meant he was considering it. What good was an advisor if his advice was not heeded? He had to make him see reason, so he decided to try a new tactic.

"As a demon, you had legions of loyal soldiers who would die for you in battle, but no one who truly cared for you."

"I do not-"

"Hey Sesshoumaru!" The argument was interrupted when Inuyasha stuck his head out of the tree line a short distance away, and stole both their attention. "You know humans get sick if they bathe in the freezing cold too long right? Hurry your ass up so we can spar already!"

He disappeared back into the forest without having spotted Myoga, apparently. Sesshoumaru was ignoring the old flea's accusing stare, seemingly daring him to refute the bug's earlier claim.

He wisely opted not to call the ex-daiyoukai out.

"These humans... they care," he insisted instead. "Do not take that for granted. Do you not care to protect them from your death? The pain it would cause them?"

"I am more concerned with theirs." The firm declaration stopped the old flea cold. He could only gawk back with wide eyes as Sesshoumaru furrowed his brow angrily, and loomed closer. He lowered his voice with deceptive calm. "What do you think will happen to them once my foes learn of my location?"

Devoid of answers; he looked away nervously while the human pulled back, and began making his way back to shore.

"They will find out eventually," Sesshoumaru assured him, grabbing his towel off a large rock and drying himself off. "What do you think they will do to them?"

Myoga avoided getting brushed away as he roughly dried his hair, and then began to redress.

"I am dead either way," he said grimly, and so certain it gave the old bug chills. "I prefer to die with some honor, and without innocent blood on my hands."

Knowingly or not, the little flea had come along and answered the riddle for him.

Rin and Kagome would mourn him, but could be proud that he died protecting his lands. In time, they would forget, and live safely and free of guilt.

He, on the other hand, would not be forced to drag out this tortuous human existence any longer than necessary. Hopefully, a worthy opponent would be the one to deal the blow, so his legacy could remain at least partly intact.

His allies were strong. He was confident one of them would pick up the mantle, and hopefully continue what he had begun, as opposed to tearing it all down in favor of tyranny.

And as far as Inuyasha and the others... they would never need to know.

If made aware what he had planned; they would insist on coming along to help. And while his father's fang would be useful in the upcoming battle, it wouldn't be enough to ensure their safety. Not against those numbers, and the magic they now had.

And a miko's arrows would certainly be affective, but there was no way he was bringing her there. He'd wager pure women were not easy to come by, and he was not about to bring her to them on a platter to assist them with their magic.

If he were youkai, it would be different. He could protect them at every turn. But like this... no. He would not allow it. This was a battle best left to demons of experience. And him. They had nothing to do with this.

By the time they learned of his death, the war would already be over. They were far enough removed that they would be safe. It was settled.

"I will depart at dusk," he told the distressed flea once he emerged from inside his collar. "Return to Toran, and tell her to go straight to General Jiro to coordinate their tactics."

Myoga dejectedly realized there was no arguing with him now. All that was left to be as much help to him as he could.

He was certainly no good at talking dog demons out of running off to their certain deaths. Why were they so eager to meet their fates?

"What will you do when you arrive?"

"I will fight," he said simply. "I may lose the war, but I vow I will take that tiger youkai down with me. His life is mine."

When Myoga failed to leave on his own accord; Sesshoumaru took it upon himself to pluck him from his shoulder.

Suspended between his forefinger and thumb; he placed him inside his palm and readied his other hand to flick. But the flea lobbied for just a moment more, which he resentfully granted, but his patience was running thin.

"If you really plan to go," the old vassal warned him, "savor your time with them. You'll regret it if you do not."

He had no response, except to ready his flicking finger once again.

"So will they," Myoga added.

And then, he was sent sailing.

A/N: Well folks, we're nearing the end. Next chapter will be the finale (unless something crazy happens), followed by an epilogue. I'm thankful to all of you who were there from the beginning, as well as everyone who hopped aboard along the way. I hope I've kept it interesting, unpredictable, and satisfying for you. It's been real fun seeing your reactions, I have to say XD

Thanks for reading.