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XX.

He had known it was a bad idea. He had known from the very beginning, and yet, somehow he had allowed the silly little miko to seduce him into it.

When she had stolen him away from the group under the guise that she had something to... show him, he had told himself not to do it, he had just known that it would turn out badly, and yet, her deliciously wide eyes and red, red pouting lips had conned him into going – against his better judgement.

He had been oddly touched when she had confessed to wanting him to be the first to see and try this entity from the future, a sort of warming feeling had blossomed in his chest, and if he hadn't known better, he would have said he was humbled by the simple act. It was a good thing Sesshoumaru knew better.

The very moment she had turned her back to him and knelt, raising her deliciously round little rump in the air (pants, he had been disappointed to notice), he should have turned and walked away, and yet... he had been intrigued.

Never again, he promised himself, scowling at the audacity of the mortal woman currently occupied with looking very embarrassed, blushing a thirteen shades of red and carefully avoiding his gaze. Never again would he trust her.

It had been all and well when she had stood from her kneeling position, quickly spinning around and sticking her hands behind her back, but he had caught a glimpse of something. At that point, his instincts had sky-rocketed and told him that it really wasn't a good idea, and he had been inclined to agree, because, since when had anything red ever brought him anything but misery and the foulest of odious moods?

But his curiosity had rooted him to the place, and he had never been one to flee, in the first place.

She had warned him – "You may not like this," she had said. She had warned him – as if that hadn't been enough for him to turn tail and leave! But he had brushed it off, thinking it couldn't be all that bad.

Oh, how wrong he had been.

He had raised the brow he knew she didn't particularly like. It was always fun to tease the meek woman: she always took the bait.

Kagome had just shrugged and removed her hands from behind her back and the other brow had risen of its own accord.

There, in her hands, the miko held a glass pitcher of violently sloshing red liquid.

The liquid, itself, permeated the air with a swelteringly sweet scent, and immediately he knew he would be consuming it.

Sesshoumaru couldn't decide if the grin on the miko's face was endearing or downright evil as she held it out for his inspection.

"However," she had continued, nonplussed by his incredulous look. "I'm sure you'll have no problem with it." She had then gone on to describe how this particular... drink (and he was reluctant to use the term) didn't have any side effects to dogs, that she knew of. He didn't know whether to be insulted by that.

He had settled for indifference.

Whipping out a plastic cup from behind her back, the miko then proceeded to pour the juice.

But a few sparse seconds later, Kagome held the beaker out to him, and Sesshoumaru realized that there was no going back and there was no escape.

Sesshoumaru sniffed experimentally, testing for poisons or other toxic substances, but the sweetness of the drink overpowered the others. "Girl," he had warned solemnly, his face betraying none of the thoughts he currently hosted. "If this is poisoned..." he let the sentence trail off and understanding had dawned on her face shortly before the onset of outraged anger.

"I wouldn't poison you, Sesshoumaru!" She had shrieked at him, her hand shaking, making the liquid tremble inside the cup.

Reaching out to take the cup, Sesshoumaru hadn't anticipated the weight of the drink, and so when Kagome had released it, the red glass had slipped through his fingers, tumbled down his chest and spilled down his abdomen and legs.

Silence reigned supreme in the following seconds, and Sesshoumaru distantly wondered how these things always seemed to happen to him, especially around the miko, or when she was involved. Although, he couldn't say he was surprised – she was so clumsy that if a day passed wherein she didn't cause trouble or spill something, he would have been pleasantly surprised.

Such was the fruit of wishful thinking, though.

"Oh, my gosh!" Kagome gasped, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. As if that was going to help his current predicament. Why was it that he was always indisposed? "I'm so sorry, Sesshoumaru! I didn't mean to–I didn't think–" she stuttered and he clenched his hand into a fist, the sharpened nails digging into the flesh of his palm.

Sesshoumaru refrained from saying anything, instead opting to remain silent as the wayward woman made a mad dash for her bag, extracting a cloth and rushing back to him to wipe away the evidence. Sesshoumaru rolled his eyes at the top of her head and tried to push the feeling of her hands on his body away.

"Miko." He intoned after he had successfully failed.

"Right." She declared nervously, backing away and surveying her work. Sesshoumaru, too, had taken a look and been appalled to find that instead of making it go away (he hadn't had much hope to begin with), she had just furthered along the process and started the first steps of drying the cloth, thoroughly doused in the crimson substance.

"I'm so, so, so sorry, Sesshoumaru!" Kagome apologized again, wringing the rag in her hands nervously.

"Unnecessary." Sesshoumaru squeezed out, and then turned and walk away.

At that point in time, Sesshoumaru had vowed to always, always, always keep a second pair of clothing with him at all times, in case of repeats in the future, although, from where he was sitting, there wouldn't be repeats. Or so he promised himself.

Upon arriving back at the camp, he had received incredulous stares from the remainder of the group, while Inuyasha had taken one look and busted out laughing.

"That time of the month, Lord Sesshoumaru?" Inuyasha sneered after his laughter had abated.

"So much for cranberry juice!" Kagome groaned, back in the clearing.

Not a week later, Inuyasha stormed through the forest and into the camp, his hair dripping a red liquid substance and his outer haori positively drenched.

"That time of the month, little brother?"

Sesshoumaru smirked.