Chapter 28

Author Note:

I am a bad, bad author. A bad one, the worst, in a really terrible cruel kind of way. I will not make any excuses as to why I never update this story other than that fanfiction always takes the back burner to life. It's been a hectic year (which sounds like an excuse, but it isn't...not really) I switched my major and got a job and all sorts of things. But being an art major has suddenly reintroduced me to that nasty thing called "creative block" which I have found is resolved by writing...that is until I get writer's block and the whole thing is very cyclical. So, my point is that hopefully I will be updating this story more than every seventy-five years.

Don't hate me, because I love all of you, just read and try to forget that I'm an awful person :D

Also imma slowly add song lyrics to the beginning of each chapter that you should listen to ... if you feel inclined .. because i feel that they relate

"You are broken and callow

Cautious and safe

You are a boundless and beauty

With fright in your face

Until someone loves you,

I'll keep you safe

But like them, I will give you away"

~ The Hush Sound, That's Okay

By the time Sesshoumaru returned ⎯ his arrival unofficially announced by the chatter of several admiring servants, all female of course ⎯ Kagome had managed to pack all her things in her poor, worn, yellow backpack. It had taken some time, not to mention some seriously forceful stuffing, but everything she currently owned was safely tucked away inside the tattered bag.

It looked like a pregnant toad.

She gazed at it fondly, thinking of all the journeys they had taken together. It had traveled 500 years into the past more times than she could count, been to places as mundane and ordinary as a highschool, and places as extraordinary and magical as youkai palaces. It was quite remarkable how long it had held up; she had gotten it in the fourth grade and carried it almost everyday since. It was probably a miracle that it was still in one piece after all these years and Kagome couldn't help but wonder why the gods, after all of torture, would reward her with the gift of an everlasting, polyester bag.

The gods needed a lesson in 'thank-you' gifts, she decided, fixing the atrocious bag with a contemplative look.

Well, now we can add 'underworld' to our list of crazy travels, she inwardly sighed. That is if we make it out alive.

Ever since she had made the resolute decision to depart sooner rather than later, that dreadful feeling of impending doom had begun to creep back into the recesses of her mind. It twirled like an eery smoke at the very edges of her consciousness, bringing the familiar waves of sadness and apprehension that she thought she had left behind when her lips had stolen their first true kiss so many nights ago.

Apparently not.

Her stay with Sesshoumaru in his silver-walled room as she tended to his unconscious form had been but a small reprieve between two incredibly fantastical and potentially deadly quests. The time had come for action once more and Kagome just could not shake the feeling that she had narrowly escaped the oven only to plunge herself headfirst into the fire. And of course with this came the feeling that her life might come to an end very soon and it was all very depressing and macabre and she felt like all this moping was probably giving her terrible frown-lines.

Oh good, so either I'll die, or just look like death by the time I'm thirty. Super-duper.

It was then that she decided that she was afraid of death, simple as that. She didn't like admitting it because it seemed weak and feeble and terribly, selfishly human, but she supposed that had to be it. But ⎯ now that she had diagnosed her problem she was ready to enter that awesome stage of denial ⎯ why was being afraid of death weak, she thought indignantly? Thinking it over, she adamantly concluded that being afraid of death wasn't weak, that refusing to face death was.

Of course. No, she wasn't making excuses, why would anyone even suggest that.

Yes, she was afraid to die. Yes, she was terrified, but she would still go to the underworld, she would still face untold horrors despite the fact that she might perish. She would walk right up to death and laugh in his face! Maybe smack him around just because she could!

Take that death!

Or maybe she would sob with regret in her last moments, thinking how horridly stupid she was to waste her unfulfilled life. Maybe she would run when it came down to it, maybe that's why she was so sad ⎯ because somewhere deep inside she was a secret coward.

I'm always such a coward when it comes down to it, she sighed to herself depressingly. I'll run right into battle only to scream and jump behind a rock when the going gets tough. I'll follow a fluffy-eared hanyou all over Japan, goo-goo eyed in love, but I can't ever tell him how I feel. What is wrong with me? The only person who could personally attest to my courage is the youkai Lord of the flipping West, and unfortunately he would probably categorize my actions as 'foolish' or 'the result of a rare brain malady', rather than courageous.

Why was it that she only seemed to be truly courageous around the most terrifying and icy demon in the entire world? A haughty youkai who seemed determined to ignore any redeeming qualities a human might have?

Probably because the gods had some personal vendetta against her for some horrible offense she had committed in a past life. Obviously.

It seemed so very typical that the only person to whom she had ever shown an ounce of real courage probably didn't even notice. Around him she challenged demons and endured lashings and was nearly eaten by dragons and she finally gathered enough resolve to actually kiss someone…

Well, at least I won't die completely unfulfilled, she reminisced. I guess there's that.

That kiss was probably the most courageous thing she had ever done considering who she had kissed and her idiotic method of prioritizing that placed 'romantic endeavors' above 'surviving life threatening perils' on a list of significant life experiences. Maybe that was all she needed to cure this sour mood she had fallen into, maybe she just needed to find the nearest male and lay one on him.

After all, it seemed to have worked the last time. She distinctly remembered feeling significantly less depressed after she had kissed Sesshoumaru; happy even, on cloud nine.

And as she thought about that strange, fleeting night, Kagome wished more and more that she could go back to that moment and relive it a thousand more times. Maybe that was her real problem, the reason for all this dramatic sadness: that kiss was not enough. Maybe she was unsatisfied, unsatisfied that she had experienced something she had yearned for so long, that she had found so wonderful when it finally happened, and that she would only experience it just that once.

Maybe she wanted to kiss those lips again and again until she was so complete that willingly walking to her probable doom didn't matter.

Maybe she should. Maybe she should find Sesshoumaru right now, hold him down and kiss him silly. He would totally not be furious at all.

Actually, he would probably be infinitely furious...even though he didn't seem to mind last time. Would he let her? He had said that he enjoyed the kiss, which filled her tummy with happy butterflies, but was that who she really wanted to kiss? Why were Sesshoumaru's lips the first she thought of, why not Inuyasha's? When had she begun to turn to Sesshoumaru instead of his brother? Hadn't she denied any romantic feelings for him whatsoever just last night? She didn't love him...did she? Maybe she didn't need to love someone to want them. Or maybe she loved someone because she shouldn't want them…

And maybe I should stop thinking about boys like the hormone-crazed teenager I am.

"All these maybe's are giving me a headache," she sighed, zipping her yellow bag shut with a few forceful tugs. A sense of finality settled over her, as if by closing her bag she had effectively placed herself in front of the gates of the underworld, waiting for her comrades to join her.

"Even when you are alone you cannot be silent," Sesshoumaru smirked from the doorway.

Kagome spasmed like an epileptic.

Why can't he ever knock like a nice, polite inuyoukai who is aware that their miko companions suffer from severe heart palpitations when they are frightened one too many times? She wondered as her heart raced. She had a feeling that he had been there for a long while now, just watching her internal freak-out. Silently judging her sufficiently crazy enough to be institutionalized.

Why do I insist on being the most crazy futuristic miko to have ever lived?

"Some people think in their heads, some people think out loud," she said haughtily, trying to pretend that she had not just had a twenty minute, in-depth conversation with herself and that he had most certainly not watched.

"You have packed your bag," he noted, choosing to ignore her.

Duh.

"Yeah, everything we'll need is in here...well, at least I think," she mumbled, wrinkling her brow in dissatisfaction. "It's sort of hard to plan what you'll need for a trip to the underworld...seeing as I've never been there. I hope it's not cold because I don't have room for an extra set of clothes."

Sesshoumaru responded with a bland look. Kagome decided that she should probably not talk anymore. Ever.

Especially since she might say something incredibly stupid, like 'what luck that you're here, I was just thinking about making out with you!'

Which he would respond to by vomiting acid on her face.

Sighing, she idly flicked the zipper pulls on her bag, one arm hugging her chest and a crease in her brow. She looked troubled, the demon lord decided, and even though he was not terrible adept at predicting the reasonings behind her often sporadic moods, he thought he recognized the sadness in her eyes.

"Miko," he called in his quiet baritone. His voice sent shivers up her spine, but she ignored them, deciding that for once she did not want to answer. She could barely hear him move, but the delicate rustling of his hair told her that he had come just a few steps closer.

"You left," she accused morosely.

"I did."

"You didn't say goodbye."

"I did not," he intoned.

The miko huffed in frustration. "Well, that wasn't very considerate and I didn't know where you went or when you would be back and I can't go anywhere in this castle without getting lost, so I was stuck in this room all day and I'm hungry."

Sesshoumaru raised an aristocratic brow and waited for her to catch her breath. "If you were hungry I am sure one of the servants would have brought you anything you desired."

Shut up, you don't get to be logical, you jerk! If I have to be rip-roaring crazy, you at least have to be illogical!

"T-that's not the point! You're supposed to tell people where you're going so they don't worry about you!"

The taiyoukai watched as she flustered around the room, waving her hands in distress and pacing back and forth as she rambled.

"⎯I'm not a mindreader, Sesshoumaru, I don't just automatically know where you're going whenever you decide to make a detour⎯"

He had the distinct impression that she was not actually upset that he had not informed her that he was leaving ⎯ he had never informed her of any of his actions unless he saw fit and she had not seemed to mind ⎯ but that she was venting her frustrations in this ridiculous tirade.

"⎯It's like I'm traveling with a mute! Like you're a big, haughty, scary mute who refuses to be anything less than the most annoyingly obtuse individual to have ever lived⎯"

What exactly her frustrations were was what puzzled Sesshoumaru.

"Miko, calm yourself," he ordered.

"Calm? How can I be calm? We are literally going to HELL tomorrow and you want me to be calm!" She ranted. "And don't interrupt!"

And just like that he was in front of her, a quick blur that was suddenly pressed against her. Kagome was silenced by a pair of lips that came crashing down upon hers. Her eyes widened in surprise as his fingers snaked their way through her hair and then fluttered closed as his mouth moved against hers. What had she been worrying about?

This kiss was not like the first: it was rough and strong and full of a heat that threatened to melt her into a pile of goo. She was not in control of this kiss, and ⎯ she absentmindedly realized ⎯ perhaps neither was he.

Hs tongue forced its way into her mouth and danced with hers in a waltz that was both slow and sensual, and fiery and passionate. They kissed for an eternity, his hand tangled in her hair and hers had found his chest and were pulling him to her. Somehow they found themselves on the bed, the same bed she had been so embarrassed to share with him that morning, and he was on top of her, covering every inch of her with his embrace.

My oh my, the big bad wolf sure knows how to eat little girls up, Kagome, her mind supplied. She told her mind to shove a cork in it.

She was no longer confused, she did not wonder if she wanted him, she knew she needed him, but before she could tell him, before she could grab him and hold him to her forever...he pulled away.

Panting, Sesshoumaru pushed himself off of the little miko, stumbling a few steps backwards for good measure. What had he done? He had simply meant to kiss her soft and quick as she had kissed him the night before their battle with the Southern lord. He had wanted to shut her up, to calm her down and erase her worries as the first kiss that night under the night sky had done. He had not planned, not meant for this...

"I...apologize," he managed in a fairly good impression of his usual indifferent tone, and he made to leave.

She let him. Kagome let him leave even though some small part of her wanted to demand that he stay because a bigger, louder, more confused part of her was currently short circuiting.

Ummm, huh?

It was like she was in an old cartoon and her head was filled with tiny people at tiny desks typing tiny memos that were meant to be her tiny thoughts and memories. Then Sesshoumaru had kissed her and all her tiny metaphorical brain computers had caught fire and the tiny metaphorical business people were running in circles, flailing and screaming and desperately trying to escape through her ears. Maybe she should be screaming and flailing too, maybe that's what you were supposed to do when you were a magical, human priestess from the future and you were kissed by the most feared and haughty demon lord in all of Japan.

Who was also your current love-interest's half-brother…who you had kissed that one night, but only because you thought you were going to die...who you sort of liked kissing and didn't know if you had developed some sort of deranged crush on and had ironically been thinking about kissing just a few minutes ago...who apparently liked kissing you too.

NO! Kagome shook her head vigorously as if to rid herself of this blasphemous train of thought. He definitely does not like kissing YOU, Kagome. Don't flatter yourself! It's a miracle he even decided to honor your lowly existence and be your friend-ish sort of thing. There is absolutely no way in hell that kissing session was anymore than a-a freak accident!

Except it didn't really seem like a freak accident…

"That's it!" She announced to no one in particular. "I'm getting drunk."

Sesshoumaru was hiding. He, most feared, most powerful, most terrible demon in the entire world...was hiding.

It was most embarrassing, but no one had to know he was hiding...as long as no one found him.

Growling to himself for no reason in particular except for that he felt like it, Sesshoumaru undressed and lowered himself into the water of the seemingly infinite basin. The bathhouse was heavy with steam, the air like drinking rather than breathing, but the inuyoukai did not mind. It was meditative, and meditating was exactly what he planned to do.

What has just occurred? He wondered in a sort of strange detachment, watching the steam rise from the surface of the enchanted water in elegant curls. Well, to be honest, he knew very well what had just occurred, but the question was more of why it had occurred.

Being the logical youkai that he was, he decided to list any and all possibilities. Firstly, he was a male. A manly sort of male that had very...male type urges. Honestly he had always been able to control these sort of urges after the passing of his fifth century, but the miko had a nasty habit of making him fall victim to all sorts of things he had once thought he had perfect control of.

Like his motor functions apparently.

Though even in his adolescence he had never actually tackled a female onto a bed and assaulted her with his mouth...which made the whole situation seem a lot more inappropriate than he thought it deserved.

I mean, he hadn't actually tackled her…per-say.

Secondly…perhaps he simply liked kissing the miko. No, that was certainly not it. He most definitely did not like kissing the wretched shadow that swooned for his even more w retched half-brother. Except that she wasn't wretched, his mind corrected, and for the past few weeks she had been his shadow. Which meant...well, he did not know what that meant, but he definitely did not like kissing her, he did not like anything about her...except the way she bickered with him, or the way she laughed at the most ridiculously inappropriate times, or how deceptively powerful she could be.

But that was it. He hated everything else. He hated the way she walked ⎯ her hips so ignorantly seductive as they swayed ⎯ he hated the way she taunted him with her overwhelming innocence, and he hated the way she disappointed him when she laughed at the thought of them being romantically inclined, calling it ridiculous. It was not ridiculous. He was the most sought after bachelor in all of Japan, how dare she deny him? How dare she declare herself immune from his obviously superior masculinity?

Not that he cared.

No, he most certainly did not.

She was obviously unbalanced if she preferred that hanyou over himself anyway.

Not that it mattered in the slightest whom or what she preferred. Because he did not care. At all.

Sesshoumaru sighed, his head felt sort of fuzzy in a way that told him his thinking was beginning to wander to pointless places. Wading through the water to the marble side of the basin, he crossed his arms over the edge, his chin resting on them in a morose sort of way.

He had never, in all his long years, truly wanted for anything. He coveted his brother's sword simply because it bothered him that such a powerful weapon was bequeathed to a child, but in truth he cared not for the sword. He had desires, passing fancies to be sure, but never had he wanted something so fiercely that it pained him deep inside that he could not have it. But, as he silently soaked in the washroom he had chosen for his seclusion, he could not help but feel that his very soul ached, as though it were missing something vital and would surely endure this awful ache forever more if it was not returned.

Curiously, he only seemed to notice it now, away from all company, away from Kagome. Yet, what did this mean? He did not know and this was why he was hiding.

For a demon barely passed his ninth century, I suddenly feel very old.

"Sango!" Kagome bellowed as she wandered down the palace halls, they might as well have been a labyrinth for all the progress she was making.

She was sure she had passed that potted plant before. This is all your fault, she told it, narrowing her eyes in contempt. It's your fault I'm lost you-you...ficus!

The plant said nothing...because it was a plant. Kagome declared herself victor of that conversation and continued her search.

"SANGO!" She called again, taking her next right and continuing down a hall that looked depressingly the same as all the other halls in this godforsaken palace.

"My lady Kagome, may I be of assistance?" Taka cawed, her golden bird eyes going wide in alarm at all the ruckus she was making.

Good, maybe you can actually help me out for once instead of torturing me with your sadistic dress-up game, Kagome thought in an uncharacteristically bitter way, which she immediately regretted.

"Um, could you show me where my friends are?" She smiled timidly, intimidated by the hawk's unwavering stare. "More specifically where Sango is?"

Cocking her head to the side she considered the request before slowly blinking and nodding. "This way, Lady Kagome."

"Thanks, I probably would have been lost for the rest of the night if you hadn't found me," Kagome chattered.

"I suppose these halls must seem confusing to a guest," Taka mused as she walked with quick, sharp footsteps. "But if the rumors I have heard of you are true, you seem to lose your way more often than most."

"Haha, yeahhhh," she laughed, embarrassed.

"Here we are," Taka announced suddenly, stopping abruptly and motioning to the door directly in front of her. "Is there anything else you desire?"

"Um…" Kagome hesitated, suddenly unsure of the request she was about to make. Come on Kagome, don't be such a wuss. "Sake," she blurted out and then blushed. "please?"

The bird blinked slowly before inclining her head. "As you wish, my lady."

Kagome sighed in relief as Taka disappeared down the hall, not quite able to squash the feeling that she was doing something naughty, even though in this time there were so such things as legal drinking ages.

But laws didn't apply to time-travel...did they? Whatever.

Returning to the task at hand, she took a deep breath and knocked twice on the shoji screen before her.

It immediately flew open to reveal a battered looking Miroku, a red welt searing across his cheek and an amused kitsune on his shoulder. "Ah, Kagome, what impeccable timing! I was just off to find a bathroom ⎯

Sango harrumphed in the background

⎯ and you have arrived just in time to keep our lovely Sango company!"

"More like just in time to keep her from beating you up," Shippo smirked.

"I do not know what you mean, my friend," he said innocently.

"Get out of here you lecher," she growled, "and don't come back until you've found some manners."

Kirara mewed in agreement.

"Then, my dear," Miroku said most seriously, "I'm afraid this is goodbye forever."

Miroku slipped passed Kagome as Sango threw a well-aimed shoe at the very place his head had just been. Ignoring Miroku's joyful laughter, Kagome raised a brow at her friend.

"Being a pervert, as usual," Sango sighed, turning to her fire cat. "Kirara, why don't you follow him. Make sure he isn't doing anything...unwholesome to those poor servants?"

The cat mewed and then ran after the wayward monk. Kagome smirked and closed the screen behind her.

Sango's expression turned suddenly serious, "Kagome, are you alright? Inuyasha came back here late last night, looking most upset. He would not tell us anything, but he tried to convince one of the servants to take us back to the village. When they refused he stormed off and we have not seen him since."

"It's a long story," Kagome sighed, her shoulders sagging at the thought of Inuyasha's pain and anger. "He sort of thinks that Sesshoumaru and I are together...like, together together."

"Oooooh," Sango nodded in understanding before whispering, "and you are not together, correct?"

"What? Of course correct!" Kagome sputtered. "I don't know why it even crossed his mind that I could have feelings for Sesshoumaru, I mean, he's Sesshoumaru! He's the epitome of untouchable!"

"Not to mention gorgeous," Sango sighed dreamily, giving Kagome a, 'what? He is and you know it' sort of look when the miko stared at her in disbelief. "You cannot deny he is incredibly handsome, not to mention he has that sort of mysterious air about him that just is so intriguing."

"Sango!" Kagome gasped, half surprised, half amused. "Aren't you supposed to be a mighty demon slayer?"

"Well, of course," she waved her hand dismissively, "but I am a woman, as are you. There are certain...qualities Sesshoumaru-sama possesses that does not let us ignore this fact, tell me I am wrong."

"I can't," Kagome admitted, pouting as though she had just lost some important argument. "Which just makes everything even more confusing, especially after the kissing⎯"

"THE WHAT?" Sango exclaimed, her eyes so wide that they might as well have popped out of her head and begun orbiting the sun. "Kagome-chan!"

The miko flinched, "I know, I know, I'm an awful person, but to be fair he totally kissed me the second time, so it's not all my fault."

Sango shook her head in disbelief, "my dear friend, you have some explaining to do…"

And so, Kagome explained. Everything. Every-single-tiny-little chemically charged moment that had happened between the icy demon lord and the chipper miko. Somewhere in between the explanations the sake arrived, and Kagome had her first taste of alcohol...which she immediately decided she hated, but downed another shot nonetheless. The tales got louder and more animated as the sake bottle emptied, and Kagome was having a hard time keeping up with Sango as she threw back shot after shot like a burly sailor with a drinking problem. She was already having an extremely hard time pronouncing 'Sesshoumaru' by the time Sango called for another bottle, and her story was proving very difficult to tell because of this.

"And so then I was thinking that-that uh I might, ya know, die the next day," Kagome said very seriously, gesturing obscurely with her hands. "So, I was thinking how I've never kissed a boy, like a real kiss, so Sesshooo-Seshhoormaro was the only one there and I sort of just kinda like walked up and kissed him."

Kagome hiccuped, looking utterly surprised, and then burst out laughing.

"I cannot believe you did that, Kagome-chan!" Sango laughed, taking a swig right from the bottle.

"I know!" Kagome guffawed, "I thought he was gonna strangl - hiccup - throttle me!"

Kagome swiped the bottle from Sango's hands and tipped the bottle clumsily into her mouth. All of a sudden the lamps magically filled with bursts of light, illuminating the dim room. The sun had been starting to set, but this had evidently gone unnoticed by the two friends, least of which Kagome who gasped and then promptly choked in surprise.

Patting her on the back as the miko sputtered, her throat burning from the alcohol, Sango gave her a concerned look. "You do not hold your liquor very well, Kagome-chan."

"Gimme a break, it's my first time drinking. It's sort of awful, by the way."

"You have never drank rice wine before?" Sango said, vaguely amazed.

"Nope! There's laws in my time that say you can't drink alcohol until you're old enough," she said giggling, "if you do they'll come and put you in the slammer."

"Slammer?" Sango questioned, a little tipsy herself after so much alcohol. She had been a demon slayer, a young women tagging along with a group of rough, tough middle aged men who drank almost as much as they swore and she had learned to keep up. But it had been awhile since those days and she was out of practice…

"Anyway," Kagome continued, swaying where she sat. "So that was all well and good, and I think we both kinda liked it, even if it was really weird. 'Cause it was really weird. Anyway, afffffter that, we fought that dragon guy and Sessoshoumaru got hurt and the dragon exploded and we came back here and stuff...where was I?"

"You came back to the palace after the dragon…"

"Oh yeah! So that happened, and then you guys were here! And then Inuyasha was mad at me, so I told Sessomaharu that, I mean Sesshoumaru, that I did not have feelings for him, because I don't and then we slept in the same bed, but not in that way, and then the next day I was packing and he kissed me. Well, more like attacked me. And there was tongue." Kagome stuck out her tongue and wiggled it for emphasis, her eyes crossing as she attempted to look at it.

"Well, Kagome, it does not seem to me that you have no romantic feelings for him," Sango said sagely, the effect slightly ruined as she pointed the sake bottle at Kagome, some of the horrid liquid splashing out the top and onto the floor. "And I think he might have some feelings for you too."

"What!" Kagome exclaimed, laughing and tipping precariously to the side. "That's sill - hiccup - that's silly - hiccup - that's stupid!"

"Noooo," Sango shook her head vigorously. "Who has ever heard of Sesshoumaru kissing anyone. Would you have even thought it possible before you went on this journey with him? NO! See? So there you have it."

Sango took another swig, looking proud of herself.

"No, we just have a...a mutal understanding of each other, thatsall," Kagome insisted. "I mean the kissing is just some weird accident, or something. He's a demon, they probably do weird stuff like that all the time, it's probably no big deal."

"Was it a big deal for you?" Sango asked pointedly.

"Well yeah!" Kagome blurted matter-of-factly. "Being kissed like that is usually a big deal I'd imagine."

"No, I mean, did you feel something?" Sango corrected. "Did you like it? Did you wish he would never stop?"

Kagome shook her head in the negative, but her mouth would not lie. "Yes. He made me feel...right, whole, like everything was exaclty perfectly perfect."

Kagome hurried to cover her mouth, but her words had already slipped out.

"Ah," Sango nodded in an overly exaggerated sort of way, "then we are afflicted by the same illness, Kagome-chan."

"And what is that, Sango?" the miko yawned, the alcohol making the floor look awfully cozy and inviting for a quick nap.

"We are both desperately in love with all the wrong men."

Chapter Notes:

Four score and seventy-five years ago

I updated my story

and then...

i was a bad person and everyone hated me and i forgot how to rhyme and this isn't really a poem at all - ory