Disclaimer: All but the plot to this particular story rightfully belongs to Rumiko Takahashi.
Words: 458
Yellow
Soft rapping sounded from a distance, then nothing. Another meek set of taps on taut rice paper, then again nothing. This time, a firmer pounding echoed around her. Kagome's brows furrowed.
"...ko-sam..."
Groaning, she turned away and buried her nose in the plush beneath her.
"Miko-sama," a gentle pat on the shoulder, "Sesshoumaru-sama requires your presence."
Her eyes opened slowly as she tried to recollect her surroundings. Turning her head toward the voice, she blinked away the residue of sleep. "Sesshoumaru-sama?" she yawned.
The older youkai nodded politely, a hint of a smile in her gray eyes.
Kagome sat up hastily, surprised at the unfamiliar company. The woman was short and portly, with deep creases in her rounded face. As she turned to procure an outfit from the chest, Kagome spotted a red lotus pin placed just above her long braid. Smiling to herself, she recognized the woman as the resident of the bedroom with the blue kimono. Knowing that she, too, lived in the house was comforting.
Placing a very simple yellow yukata across Kagome's futon, the woman bowed and turned to leave, stopping at the door to offer a reminder, "Kagome-sama's lessons with Rin-chan will begin this afternoon."
She gaped as the door slid shut. Her lessons begin today? Throwing the covers off of herself, consequentially flinging the yukata onto the ground, Kagome ran to the door, slid it open, and shouted down the hall, "What do you mean lessons?!" Chest heaving, she stared at the empty hallway.
How many lessons did he expect? She sighed heavily as she walked over to the crumple of yellow piled on the floor. Sesshoumaru was going to need a stern talking-to. She thought she was only supposed to help Rin start her journey through womanhood, and that would not take lessons.
Gripping the fabric and yanking it up in frustration, she felt the cloth snag. The sound of tearing made the blood rush from her face- so much so, she nearly fell. She gently bent to lift the yukata with unsteady hands. A gap in the floorboard had been both wide and jagged enough to catch the fabric, tearing a large hole along the hem when she pulled on it.
Kagome swallowed stiffly, throat dry. What do I do? There was no way she could wear it in it's damaged state, and Sesshoumaru would be less than pleased for sure. Looking around hurriedly, she spotted the chest and leapt to it, swinging it open with a grunt. She noted with a painstaking amount of displeasure how little she had to choose from, but, taking a deep breath, she knew it would have to do.
Pulling out her only option, she cringed.