Doldrums of a Hanyou

Inuyasha twisted the rabbit's neck swiftly. Fear would sour the meat, so it had to be quick. Kagome had been asleep all afternoon, and if he was doing the cooking around here, he had a better shot of making food edible if he got better-tasting ingredients. Not that Kagome was keeping much down anyway. Kaede had left the pair with a type of gruel that should have been easy to digest, but Kagome's body rejected that too. She didn't seem to mind the tea, besides the taste, so a broth would have to do when it counts for getting nutrients into his wife's body.

He kept an ear out for his wife as looked around in the garden. She had made a fuss of forgetting to weed and soak it before they left, but the seedlings looked fine by his account, and there weren't too many weeds. There wasn't a single vegetable that would be ready to eat for a while yet.

Kaede had given him a few vegetables, but that still didn't help his cooking skills any. He carefully slid inside the house, slowly putting the screen down behind him, and searched through the jars. He had complained once or twice about the smell of the plants she kept, but he had only recently given thought to building her an herb shelter, like the one Kaede had. It only made sense. He knew Kagome would take the old woman's place when she finally kicked it, so she really should have one of her own. A stone mortar and pestle too. Not that the wooden set she had didn't do the job, but it reeked of weeks' worth of herbs, the smell having soaked into the wood.

Inuyasha held in a sneeze when he popped the lid off one of her jars. Nope. That was definitely not the right one. He opened jar after jar, his eyes watering from the smell of all the different herbs in one place, until he found a few he recognized as cooking herbs. She should really keep her medicinal herbs separate from her cooking ones or else she might accidentally...

He smacked his forehead when he replaced all the jars and looked at them lined up. The jars were clearly marked with what was edible and what was not—a stripe of iron oxide under the glaze of the ones used for medicine. The three brown ones he held were void of this stripe, and now that he looked, the others were all a little different. No two glaze patterns looked exactly the same on any of the jars. He picked up one and examined it. This glaze was nice, little black flecks dappling the brown color. Tried to remember where they had gotten these. Weren't they expensive? Probably not. The glaze was good, but he could feel the lumps and ridges where an inexperienced potter's hand had pinched the lip of the jar. Not that he knew much about pottery.

He set the one jar down, and brought the three he selected over to where Kagome kept her kitchen knife. He stopped himself before he started, for once remembering how Kagome scolded him whenever he started to butcher his catch in the house. He returned with his catch butchered and set a pan on to precook the rabbit. He cut up the herbs and vegetables, then put the bones to soak into a pot of water for a while. He wasn't entirely sure he was doing this right, but he had loitered around Sango at mealtimes enough to know it was something similar that she did. He finished with the rabbit, and set everything out to boil for a while.

He took one look over Kagome—still asleep despite the racket he'd started making with the pot. He didn't like the look of the sheen on her neck and brow. Kaede had told him to keep her warm—to sweat the toxins out or something—but Kagome looked about ready to burn a hole through her clothes. He took a deep breath as he scooped up a bucket and ran to the river. Kagome would have to drink another dose of that helpful—foul-smelling—tea later tonight.

He scrubbed the last of the rabbit blood off his hands and returned to his wife's side. She looked calm, but the smell of sickness had thickened around her. He smoothed her hair back and placed his hand on her forehead. She whimpered as she cracked open her eyes.

"Just checking your fever," he told her as he pulled his hand away, "go back to sleep." Her eyes drifted back closed and Inuyasha sighed. He gently smoothed down her hair again before shaking his head. He was treating her like a child, he knew he was. Honestly, how else was he supposed to treat her? She was sick, so she needed to be looked after whether or not she was a grown woman. Her fever didn't seem any better. At least she wasn't getting any fever-dreams, yet. The last time he came down with something—which seemed to be every year now that he was spending more time around humans—he had terrible nightmares.

Although, given thought, most of the images his unconscious mind created were nightmares. He never liked dreaming, much. He had heard that dreams were supposed to give you a break from reality, but his always seemed to twist the imagery from his waking hours, only serving as a reminder of what lie before his opened eyes. When he was a child they reminded him of what he was running from, what foul beasts had the desire to taste hanyou flesh. As he matured, the dreams grew more terrible—in a way. His heart had been torn out again—replaced by an arrow—his claws had invaded the flesh of the one who held his heart, her eyes pleading as the color drained from her—the world was black-and-white, leaching the color even from her green clothes. His brother stood atop a high tower, and looked down upon him—even his cold eyes showing pity.

He could remember one good dream he had; Kagome was climbing down a tree, smiling at him as she set foot on the ground. She ran past, insisting he chase her—and he did. She flopped down on the shrine steps and tossed him a ball. He didn't want to play, so he set it down and sat beside her. She was talking about her classes, and it didn't make any sense to him. She held his hand and brought it to her heart, and everything was good.

He remembered how violently he had awoken, to find Kagome was not beside him. He roared. He punched and kicked at trees, then hung his head and moaned into the wood of the well. She wasn't coming back, he determined. She was never coming back and his mind wanted to torture him with false images. She had been gone nine months, and she was never coming back. What use was it to wait for her? It was two days later that he returned to the well. The snow was falling thickly and the skies were grey, but there was hope still left in the world. Maybe he was buzzed off the celebratory liquor his friend had forced on him. He thought maybe, just maybe, he should keep his chin up. His friends' two daughters weren't even a day old, and with them held the promise of a new life for Sango and Miroku. He was going to be somewhat of an uncle to them, so why not focus on that? He smiled and sat with his back to the well. He would wait on this side for her, but the few centuries separating them wasn't a terribly long time for a half-demon? Was it?

He was distracted from those memories by the sound of the pot lid bubbling up. He ran over to it, lifting the lid and blowing down the foam. Was it supposed to foam up? He shook his head and set the lid back on. It smelled…like it was cooking, at the very least. Not exactly appetizing though. He cringed. Even if it tasted bad, it would still be chock full of helpful ingredients nevertheless. He looked over to Kagome, still sleeping soundly. He sighed. It wasn't like there was a lot to do here. He didn't want to get too far away from the house, so he couldn't even make his morning rounds about the forest. He just sat against the wall and watched over Kagome. She slept a lot. Sometimes she would wake up for a few minutes, but today that resulted in her grabbing the bucket he had set near her. He made her drink water and go back to sleep.

His knee bounced as he looked about the small hut. Normally he would nap when he was as bored as he was, but he just wasn't tired right now. He should have asked Kaede to watch Kagome while he found something to do. It wasn't good for him to be cooped up. He got antsy.

He growled to himself and scratched his head. Now that wasn't right. Kagome had been cooped up for a day and a half—same as him—and she didn't even have the option of leaving when she was tired of being sick. That wouldn't be fair to her for him to just leave and find something else to do. He leaned back and stared up at the rafters overhead. He traced patterns on the beams before his eyes wondered over to the open window. He raised a curious brow at the dust particles drifting in the beams of light. He could try cleaning. Then again, doing that could stir up more dust, and that wouldn't be good for his wife.

The clink of metal caught his attention again—the pot bubbling once more. He turned his head towards it to find Kagome standing over the pot looking inside to see what her husband had made. He jumped up and ran over to the pot, snatching the lid from her.

"You're supposed to be in bed."

He straightened up when she sent him a glare. She had been sleeping all day, how the hell was she still cranky? She sighed through her nose and engaged her husband in a scowling match for another three seconds before she gave up and meandered back to the bedding. His ears lowered a bit when she slowly lowered herself back down. She had mentioned back and leg pain a few hours ago, and it seemed to have gotten worse.

He huffed, staring into the boiling pot. He smashed a carrot against the side of the pot before nodding. The vegetables were nice and soft. They should be easier to digest, so he could add a few to her bowl. The rabbit had already been cooked as well, so no worries about her eating undercooked meat should she keep down the initial broth.

"When is that going to be done?" he heard her ask softly. He glanced over at her. She still frowned, but she looked more tired now, despite all that she had been sleeping.

"It's done now, are you hungry?"

"Not really," he returned with a shake of her head.

"Well, you've gotta eat somethin' either way."

He took out a bowl and sifted just the liquid into it. He handed the bowl down to her and turned back to replace the lid, only to hear her cough. He nearly groaned, thinking that now she had another new symptom popping up. When he looked back at her, she wore a grimace as she stared down into the bowl. He let out an annoyed growl.

"Inuyasha..? Did you…did you, um...?"

"What?" he squawked back to her.

Kagome licked her lips, looked up at his annoyed expression, then shifted her gaze back down to the bowl she held.

"Did you put mint in this?"

Inuyasha put a hand on his hip.

"It's s'posed to settle your stomach, ain't it?"

"Well yes, but…you're not really supposed to make it with soups…"

Inuyasha flinched. Like he was supposed to know that?

"Well sorry for not knowing that. Geez, you know I don't cook." He folded his arms over his chest. "Just eat it, it's good for you."

Her eyebrows shot up as she stared at him, and in the most serious voice possible, asked him if he had tasted it. He felt a chill run down the back of his neck at the question. He stared back into the pot as a 'well, not yet,' answered her. He had made more than enough for the two of them…and he had planned on eating some with her, but now he wasn't sure he wanted to join her. He took a sniff—not that he couldn't smell it already—it didn't smell bad, but it also didn't really smell good either. He swallowed and served himself up a bowl, only with more meat and vegetables. He sat down and looked down into his bowl. When he looked up, she was looking back at him with anticipation.

He shook his head and tipped the bowl up to taste it, only to be shocked by the temperature. He coughed and stuck his tongue out, fanning it with one hand. Of course he had forgotten to let it cool before serving. It wasn't like anyone had taught him these things.

"Be careful there," Kagome warned, belatedly. That was just great. Here he was, having burned off half his taste buds, and she was making a joke of it. Though as he looked at her, she didn't look the least bit amused. She was staring down into her bowl and she moved it around in her hand slightly. She had gotten his disinterested scowl down pretty well. He returned the scowl as he set down his own bowl. It was too hot to eat as of now. He stood to exchange the soup pot for Kagome's tea. As he sat back down, Kagome mumbled that she didn't feel well.

"Yeah, I know," he muttered in return. There wasn't a lot he could do to make her feel any better.

"No, I mean, I'm really not feeling well. I'm a grown woman, I should be able to handle a stomach bug," she started, looking back to Inuyasha. "And if I'm handling it like this, I can't imagine how those two little girls are feeling."

Inuyasha grimaced.

"I'm not leaving you alone for a second," he declared.

"Inuyasha, please. I'll be asleep probably the entire time you're gone. Just tell me how they are, for my peace of mind?"

Inuyasha sighed. Okay, so now that she brought it up, he was kind of worried about those little kids too.

"Fine, fine, but if you set one foot out of bed, you're going to be puttin' up with me non-stop until you're completely well again."

Miroku's movements were slower than usual. He had managed to set something on for dinner, and the girls had managed it well, but he hadn't. He had finally gotten around to cleaning out the bowls, but by now, the leftover food had solidified about like hard clay. He scraped the food off about half a bowl, then sighed in annoyance. He turned back to look over his daughters. They had kicked the covers off themselves again. He let them be for now, since the temperature was still mild this time of year.

Their fevers had finally gone down in the last two days, but unfortunately for him, that was when his own started. Occupational hazard—being a father. Of course, having to care for two sick little girls hadn't exactly made him feel any better. When they weren't sleeping, they fluctuated between looking like zombies and crying because their bellies, legs or heads hurt. For every bit he loved his daughters, their high-pitched voices gave him a headache that lasted even though their quiet periods. He was so exhausted, he didn't even notice the knock on the door.

"Hey, Miroku," his white-haired friend addressed him as he slid open the door. Miroku immediately shushed Inuyasha, drawing his gaze over to the sleeping girls. Inuyasha nodded and shut the door behind him.

"How are they?" Inuyasha whispered. "Kagome kept nagging me to come check up on you guys."

Miroku sighed and went back to washing the bowls.

"They're a lot better than they were yesterday, but it will probably be a few days yet before they recover."

"Right." Inuyasha came to sit across the way, glancing around the room. He looked down to the bowls Miroku was trying to clean and only counted three.

"Where's Sango?"

Miroku had sent Sango and Ichiro to stay with Kaede a few days ago. Ichiro was very small, and he wouldn't chance him falling ill. Every fall, when illness within the village was at its peak, there was always a chance for casualties, especially with infants. Inuyasha agreed that that was the smartest move, but then he made comment that the monk, himself, had fallen ill.

"If it runs its course the same as with the girls, my fever will break by tomorrow," he commented forcing his voice to sound a little sicklier than was really necessary. Inuyasha frowned. He looked back at the door, his only means of escape from the dull world of sick people. His ears were twitching with the scraping sound Miroku was making with the bowls. He should really return to Kagome, and tell her the good news; everyone was just as sick and boring, but they were alive so…

That damn scraping noise… Inuyasha grit his teeth and glared over at his friend, trying to will the noise to stop. He could easily leave and the noise would stop. Yeah, he'd say 'bye, see you around, I got my own sick person to take care of.'

"That fucking noise is making me crazy!" He said, snatching the bowl away from the monk. Inuyasha chipped the few remaining specks of food off and set it aside for proper washing.

"Get in bed you helpless loser, I'll wash your damn dishes."

"Really Inuyasha? Why thank you, I am in your debt," he joked, with only slightly less energy than he usually would. Of course the skeezball was plotting to get out of this…well, he did already look half-dead, but…

"You're racking up quite the tab." Inuyasha snapped his fingers and pointed to the futon his friend hadn't even bothered putting away all that day. He watched his friend crawl into bed, careful of disturbing his sleeping toddlers.

"Oh, and I haven't washed the pot yet, either."

Inuyasha stirred the pot's contents, then looked back at his wife.

"You did eat some more."

"It's not really that bad once you get a few bites of meat in with it," Kagome said with a shrug. He raised a brow at that. Poor girl probably could taste anything anymore. He could barely stomach it, and he had eaten some pretty unsavory things. Maybe he'd ask for her to instruct him for breakfast, so that he might stand a chance of cooking a proper—palatable—meal.

Wait a minute.

"You held it down?"

Kagome nodded.

"That's…well don't eat too much, don't wanna tempt fate." Maybe the flavor had changed since it had time to cool? He grabbed the cooking spoon and ladled a bit out to taste. He was surprised that it actually it wasn't bad for leftovers. It definitely tasted a bit gamier and more like the rabbit than the random spices he'd dumped in there. It wasn't as good as Kagome's cooking, but he served himself a second helping. He sat down to it, but he saw Kagome staring at the window. He glanced over there to notice it was still closed…

"Kagome? You alright there?"

She nodded, but he hesitantly set his bowl off to the side and crawled over to her. She raised a brow when he put a hand over her forehead, worried the fever was messing with her brain functions. Actually, her fever seemed a lot better than it had been. He put his other hand over his own forehead to compare. He felt her head with the back of his hand too. She was still a little warmer than himself, but her fever was definitely down from where it was. She was getting over this a lot faster than what Miroku had guessed! Maybe he'd stumbled onto a miracle cure with that mint-rabbit soup. He chuckled at the thought. That was doubtful.

...

Ah, the bored life of a hanyou. This is a little change of pace, yet again. Inuyasha, bored out of his wits. Also I have a passion for pottery, though I've never actually used a wheel, I've only ever hand-worked teapots, cups and jars. If anyone wants to know what illness they all have, beats me. All I know is that my entire family came down with this a few years ago, over the course of two months we each had our week being sick.