"Inuyasha?" A tender voice called from the secluded entrance of the hut. The run-down door rattled in its frame as the shoji was pushed aside. A familiar scent followed the voice as the visitor shut the door and approached him. The demon was too hurt and tired to open his eyes, let alone move from the mattress where he had managed to claw his way back after passing out cold on the floor after trying to eliminate the previous human intruder. But this newcomer, she carried a comforting scent, like something from a long-forgotten childhood memory.
"Oh, Inuyasha." The voice almost quivered. "They haven't even given you any water." He heard a soft thump as something clattered on the side of his futon.
"You need to drink a little." An unpleasant realization dawned upon the demon. This human wanted to nurse him, like the pathetic weakling these humans seemed to think he was. They mocked his pride, showing no sign of fear in his great presence, imposing their goodwill and help on him. Those insects, parasites, not the slightest bit aware how their wretched stench made him even sicker. He needed these creatures like koi needed tapeworms.
Unaware of his inner contempt, a cold hand snaked to the back of his sweaty neck. The cool touch against his spine felt, admittedly... tolerable.
"Please, Inuyasha, just a sip." She pleaded, and the edge of a ceramic container was pressed against his bottom lip. He would surely avenge this desecrating treatment later, but for now... he permitted this misguided solicitude.
Kagome propped Inuyasha's head up with her other hand as she positioned the water cup to his chapped, colorless lips. His skin felt clammy to her touch; he seemed feverish, even though he was horrendously pale. The same exasperated despair she had felt earlier began to sink into her stomach. Why didn't Inuyasha open his eyes?
No matter, she shook her head mentally. He was conscious. He opened his mouth and drank. The young woman exhaled a breath she hadn't noticed she had been holding. Relief and concern intertwined within her chest, each refusing to relent. But Kagome decided to focus on that flickering sense of relief rather than worry. She had gotten him back.
The smell of iron and saccharine decay wafted from Inuyasha's clothing when Kagome gently placed his head back. After her eyes had adjusted to the dimness, she saw his bedding and clothes were covered in dried-up blood. Some of it was still fresh, apparent by the darkness of his drenched clothes.
She glanced at the corner of the room where a pile of bandages, alcohol, a jar of anti-inflammatory lotion made from herbs, and other supplies the healer had left behind were kept.
"I need to check on your wounds, Inuyasha," she said, and removed herself from his bedside. She opened the only window of the hut to let in some of the dimming daylight. Then she collected the supplies, rolled up her sleeves, and pulled her hair into a tight bun on top of her head.
The demon listened to her movements, realizing that this was the same woman who had been by his bedside when he woke up. The way she spoke his name... Inuyasha, was it? What a plebeian name, he thought in passing. This woman. Who was she? She acted very familiar towards him. Behind his closed eyelids, he sensed how light seeped into the room as the woman opened a window.
The wooden floor creaked under her feet as she knelt beside him again, placing the supplies down alongside her.
"We need to clean you up, Inuyasha," she softly narrated more to herself than to him. The woman began unfastening his robes with no hesitation. Had it not been evident by her scent that she was unclaimed, the demon would have assumed the ease with which she was intimate with him, spoke of a carnal nature of their preceding relationship. Not that he cared. Whatever her relation to him had been before, now she served a different purpose. She was a caretaker and since he had nothing better to keep him entertained in his current state, he allowed her the role.
And as much as he hated to admit his own deprived state, the attack he had attempted against the previous healer had drained his body greatly. He had become even more weakened and feverish than when he had first roused back to the mortal realm. He might be close to his demise. He hadn't eaten anything for gods knew how long. He was without water and still bleeding when this woman came to him.
She would serve a purpose in helping him regain his strength, for now.
When she opened his robes, she tried as carefully as possible to peel the crusty fabric away from the large wound on his side. His old bandage had slipped from the wound. Inuyasha didn't flinch, even though it must have felt incredibly painful when she yanked the last of the clothing off his wound. Her cool hands wandered over his ribs and abs.
His eyes snapped open. Blood began to pour from his freshly opened wounds. Kagome was taken aback by the large, crimson orbs that stared at her like vast, empty chasms.
She gasped. Those haunted eyes bored into her own, shaking her to her core. But what truly unnerved her was their unfamiliarity.
Steadying her hands, she continued with cleaning his wounds. She poured alcohol onto his festering flesh and used a clean cloth to rub and squeeze pus out of the gaping wound just below his ribcage. She poured more alcohol into the wound, trying to flush it until it excreted clear, vibrant red blood.
"I'm sorry. I know this hurts," she murmured, too afraid to meet those eyes that showed not even a moderate discomfort when they should have been full of agony.
Whenever he looked at her, she felt deeply chilled. His crimson gaze held something dark and predatory, devoid of any affection or other human traits. He watched her movements as a well-fed cat might lazily watch a mouse. Not needing to kill for food, but ready to kill for simple amusement.
The realization of his transformation sent shivers up her spine, but she suppressed the thought. To hide her anxiety, she rambled aloud about the treatment she was administering to break the eerie silence. Even though it was essentially a monologue as the demon never responded to her. She wasn't even sure if he understood her words, he showed no signs of acknowledging her chatter.
After finishing cleaning him and applying the lotions, she tidied up the empty jars and soiled bandages. Returning to his side, she looked down at her handiwork - his still body sprawled on the dirty futon. She studied his body for a long time.
"I need to apply the new bandages. You'll need to sit up," she said softly, scooting closer to him.
"Can you sit up for me, Inuyasha?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Nothing moved in the demon's bloody orbs, nothing but darkness.
"Please?" She pleaded, her voice thick with emotion, her head chin dipping down.
His hand twitched. Kagome's head shot up. He was slowly moving his elbow along his healthier side, trying to prop himself up.
"Yes, just like that!" She held back a squeal and cleared her throat. "Here, let me help you."
Her arms wrapped around his half-raised torso, and she pulled him into a slouched sitting position. The demon growled and gritted his teeth.
She guided his hands around her upper body for some awkward support while she fumbled with the bandages. First, she removed his clothes, leaving him bare from the waist up.
The demon rested its cheek on the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Her fingers worked swiftly and skillfully around him, trying her best to avoid causing him any pain.
He despised her efforts.
His nose and mouth were pressed against her pulse. He was too weak and injured to turn his head. He clung to her as a child would to its mother. His grip tightened as the position made him dizzy. He was on the brink of losing consciousness. The scrape of his claws against her spine caused a small gasp to catch in her throat.
He noticed it. He could feel her swallow, his lips pressed against her throat. Her scent, which was entirely too close to him, aggravated him. It tried to evoke a memory of something. Something that came very close but escaped him just as he was about to grab it. The lights outside faded, or perhaps his vision was dimming. He wasn't sure, but he could no longer see anything. Just darkness. And in that darkness, he sensed her. Felt her warmth surrounding him, her heart pounding against his.
His lips moved against her pulse, as though trying to speak, but all he managed was a groan.
He must have passed out then, because the next thing he knew, he was lying on his futon, covered with her priestess uniform's haori. A voice echoed from somewhere.
"It's nighttime. I'll let you rest for now. But tomorrow, I'll bring you new beddings," her words carried a trace of sorrow, perhaps guilt. "You can't sleep in this filth another night."
A rustle. The shoji door slid open, and a beam of silvery moonlight framed her figure in the doorway.
"Hopefully, you'll be feeling better tomorrow, maybe enough to eat some ramen," she added with a hint of cheer in her sorrow-laden voice. Then she was gone, leaving him once again in the darkness, with the memory of her moonlit features and those impossibly large eyes.
How he hated her.