InuYasha Fan Fiction / Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ In Pursuit of the Green Dragon ❯ Let Sleeping Hanyou Lie ( Chapter 17 )

Musashi's Domain, 16th-century Japan

It was kind of sweet, thought Kagome, as she flipped half-heartedly through her English textbook, that a semi-conscious, human Inuyasha was an affectionate, even cuddly Inuyasha.

Sweet but also more than a little freaky.

It had been two days since she, Alphonse, and Great-uncle Souta had arrived here. Inuyasha had not regained consciousness during all that time.

He lay sleeping on a futon in Kaede's cottage, his long black hair spilling over the edge of the mattress and onto the clean-swept floorboards.

Inuyasha had been as pale as a day-old corpse when Kagome first saw him, sprawling unconscious at the bottom of the well.

He hadn't stirred as Alphonse and his brother tied ropes around him, or when he was lifted out of the well, occasionally bumping against the sides despite the best efforts of the two brothers, Uncle Souta, and Miroku.

She frowned, abandoning her efforts to memorize an English dialogue that involved two people meeting at a party, and examined Inuyasha's sleeping face.

His cheeks were slightly flushed. Fever? Or just a sign of his returning health?

Two days, and Inuyasha's hair was still black, his ears still human, and his fingers still tipped with nails rather than his customary claws.

Edward's experiment had well and truly drained Inuyasha's youki, it seemed, and a good portion of his life-force into the bargain.

And so, Inuyasha slept endlessly, as Kagome kept vigil over him and the rest of their group, including its newest members, stayed discreetly out of the way.

All of them looked in on Inuyasha from time to time, of course, and as the first day passed without Inuyasha regaining either consciousness or his hanyou features, the concerned looks deepened.

Kaede set up a second futon next to Inuyasha's, and Kagome stayed awake for a long time that first night, acutely aware of Inuyasha's gentle breathing, and the way he rolled closer to her, so that the lengths of their bodies touched through the layers of quilt, sleeping robe, and pajamas.

Finally, convinced that he wasn't going to wake up any time soon, she slipped her hand into his. Soon after that, she fell asleep.

She awoke with moonlight streaming through the cottage's single window, Inuyasha's head pillowed on her shoulder, and his breath warm and ticklish against her neck.

He was also drooling on her pajama top, which was somehow less romantic.

When she tried to wriggle discreetly away, mostly because her arm had fallen asleep under his weight, he mumbled her name, and threw an arm around her waist.

Kagome froze, but found herself smiling.

She knew that she should be worried that Inuyasha was showing his feelings for her so openly. He was only ever this affectionate and agreeable when he lay at death's door…like that time when the Spider-head demons had attacked him on the night of the new moon…

No, he wasn't dying. He couldn't be!

In face, he was looking better, even if he remained stubbornly asleep.

She reached down to smooth away a long, tangled lock of hair stuck to his mouth, and he smiled again, just a brief curve of his lips.

She gave in to her feelings, and brushed her lips against his brow, then his cheek. She hesitated, hovering over his mouth—should I?—and decided that she wanted to save their first kiss for when they were both awake.

"Wake up soon, Inuyasha," she whispered, drawing back, a bit regretfully.

ooOoo

By the second day, Sango, in particular, was looking very worried, though her words to Kagome remained resolutely encouraging. But Sango knew a lot about youkai—as a youkai-exterminator, she had studied them thoroughly—and if she was concerned…Kagome didn't want to think about it.

Without waking up, Inuyasha seemed to sense whenever she left his side, and would grow restless. Sometimes he murmured in his sleep, and thrashed around, as if he were having bad dreams, and Kagome would kneel beside him, rubbing his back, or scratching her fingers gently through his scalp, which seemed to soothe him.

She had to leave his side occasionally, of course, to brush her teeth and use the latrine, or just to stretch her legs and get some fresh air.

Even if she had wanted to stay non-stop, Miroku chased her out at intervals when he appeared with bowls of broth and the oddly-shaped clay jar that was the medieval equivalent of a bedpan.

He had reminded her the first day that his Buddhist monk training had included the nursing of the ill and injured, and indeed, he was both gentle and ruthlessly efficient in handling Inuyasha.

Kagome had accepted the monk's offer of aid with cowardly relief. Even with her first aid training, she wasn't sure she could have handled stripping Inuyasha of his clothing, much less performing those tasks that required lifting and turning him.

As for helping Inuyasha relieve himself…yes, Kagome was very, very grateful for Miroku's presence.

"Kagome, how is he?" Shippou asked anxiously, as she emerged from the cottage, blinking and blinded in the late-afternoon sunlight.

"He's getting better, Shippou-chan," Kagome told him, hoping it was true. "I'm sure he'll wake up soon."

* * *

Kick. Block. Punch. Retreat. Attack.

The afternoon sunlight shone off two golden heads, one with a long ponytail that whipped around as its owner ducked and wove under his opponent's jabs and kicks.

Miroku had long since given up any pretense of meditating, and was watching Edward and Alphonse practice their hand-to-hand combat skills. Both of them moved with the grace and confidence of two dancers who had been partnered a long time.

Both were shirtless, and both Miroku and Sango studied Edward's metal right arm and shoulder with unabashed fascination, noticing just how the armor was bolted to flesh and bone--and how much had that hurt? wondered Miroku, no stranger to injury himself.

As she had for the past two days, Kagome was maintaining her vigil inside the cottage, eschewing the fresh air and sunshine to stay at the side of her slumbering hanyou.

Kagome was quite admirable, really, thought Miroku, while noting how easily Edward--even with his artificial leg--managed to leap high enough to avoid one of his brother's scything kicks. One could only hope that Inuyasha, stubborn and blindly proud, might one day let the girl know that he returned her feelings…a fact that had become obvious over the past year to everyone but Kagome, poor girl.

Miroku glanced over to where Sango was kneeling on a mat

At the sight of her lithe form, the cursed void in his hand gave a warning tingle, reminding him that his time was running short.

His gauntlet, wound about with prayer beads, concealed the creeping damage from having sucked in Naraku's poisons once too often, but out of sight of his friends, Miroku often unfastened the gauntlet, tracking the dark-streaked path of the degeneration with horrified fascination.

Once the poison reached his heart, he'd be done for—if the Kazaana in his hand didn't split and devour him in his own wind-void first.

He might never get the opportunity to marry his beloved youkai-exterminator, might never have the chance to see whether their children might inherit her fearlessness and physical prowess.

Might never become intimate enough with her to hear her call him by name…though, to be honest, he'd prefer to hear her scream it, preferably while she was in his arms, and preferably while he was teaching her some of the things that they didn't teach monks, but that he'd had to learn for himself.

His fingers twitched, remembering the feel of her firm, rounded bottom on those occasions when he'd managed to take her by surprise and feel her up a little.

With an effort, he wrenched his attention back to the present. He must make the best of the here and now, and fight with all his strength against the curse that Naraku had placed on his hand and on his life. At least he had friends, allies to help in his struggle...

Miroku noticed that Sango was also watching the two combatants with keen interest. She had earlier been occupied in grinding a youkai-repellent mixture of dried herbs with a mortar and pestle, replenishing her arsenal of powders while they had the opportunity. The mortar and pestle now sat forgotten before her, a collection of tiny cloth bags arrayed neatly in row along the edge of the mat, waiting to be refilled with the repellent.

Sango felt the weight of his glance, and returned it, smiling slightly.

"Houshi-sama, I'm glad that Alphonse is here to distract his brother," she said. "I was becoming a little weary of fending off Edward's apologies."

"Edward seems to have taken on all of the guilt for what happened," Miroku agreed. "Though Inuyasha's own stubbornness is at least partly to blame. He should have admitted he had passed his limits."

Sango gave a wry chuckle at this, and Miroku joined her, both of them all-too-aware that Inuyasha would rather die than admit he couldn't do something.

"And, of course, we all know that Edward didn't intend to hurt Inuyasha," she added.

"Well," Miroku answered, contemplatively, "He didn't mean to break the well, either, but like a typhoon that bears no ill-will, his destructive force is quite considerable."

Sango's lips quirked, but she didn't try to deny it.

Miroku knew she was deeply worried that Inuyasha's superhuman healing abilities had been affected by whatever Edward had done to him. She had told him this morning that there was a strong possibility that he had been purified beyond the point of ever regaining his hanyou appearance...or abilities.

Looking completely human might make Inuyasha's life easier in the long run among youkai-hating humans, Miroku thought, but in the short run, their enemies would have a field day hunting the suddenly-powerless youth.

Even Tetsusaiga was useless without Inuyasha's youki to power it. And from what Sango had told him, the same was true of Inuyasha's fire-rat clothing. It would still protect him, of course, but would not longer be able to self-repair in the absence of his youki.

Enough of these gloomy speculations, Miroku told himself, firmly. As long as Inuyasha was no longer in danger of dying from injuries, everything else would resolve itself in time.

"Speaking of destructive forces," he said, to Sango. "I wonder what will happen when Inuyasha finally wakes up, and realizes that he has a romantic rival?"

"Alphonse?" Aha, so Sango had noticed it, too!

Miroku nodded. "So, you saw his expression when Kagome threw herself at Inuyasha? He looked like someone had just ripped his heart out of his chest."

"Let's hope that Inuyasha doesn't treat Al like he treats Kouga!" Shippou chimed in.

The little kitsune had been practicing his illusions some distance away, using leaves and nuts, but he had keen hearing, especially where gossip about his friends was concerned.

"That's unlikely," Miroku, said gently. "Alphonse is human. You know as well as I do that Inuyasha wouldn't use his powers against someone who wasn't a youkai."

But, still, he wondered exactly what kind of relationship Alphonse had formed with Kagome. Well, there was an easy way to find out.

Ignoring Sango's warning frown, Miroku turned to the practice match's other observer.

Higurashi Souta was sitting quietly, dividing his attention between Edward and Alphonse's martial arts practice, and Shippou's illusions practice. From what Alphonse had said, Kagome's young uncle had been skeptical that they could really travel between eras, nor had he believed that youkai and magic were real.

"Souta-sama," Miroku said, and the other man gave a little start, as if his thoughts had been far away. "I was wondering--did anything happen between Kagome-sama and Alphonse-sama while the well was closed?"

Souta blinked at him. He paused and pursed his lips thoughtfully before replying. "It seemed to me that Kagome-chan and Alphonse-kun became very good friends," he admitted, sounding reluctant. "And, perhaps Al-kun may wish a--a deeper relationship, but I am not certain my niece even noticed."

Aha! I knew it! Miroku thought, but didn't say it.

Sango sighed, still watching the two brothers, who were winding down their match. Alphonse had finally managed to pin his brother, but Edward was still struggling mightily. "She's got such a generous heart. She wouldn't notice, would she?"

"But Inuyasha will," Miroku said, with a certain grim satisfaction. "Though I wonder…Alphonse-sama seems to have a milder nature than his brother, but in matters of the heart, you never can tell."

"Matters of the heart?" Edward asked, having finally surrendered the bout to his brother, and caught the tail end of their conversation.

"We were speaking of your brother and Kagome-sama," Miroku said, smoothly, as the pony-tailed youth bent to retrieve his shirt. "Has he said anything to you?"

"What—me? No!" Ed threw a concerned glance in Alphonse's direction.

Alphonse had walked comfortably out of earshot, his head tipped back in an effort to drain the last few drops of cold tea from a bamboo container.

"My brother and...Kagome?" Ed said, slowly, as if sounding out words in a foreign language.

"Yes, Edward-sama," Sango interjected. "We were just observing that it appears Inuyasha has acquired a romantic rival."

Ed's expression pleaded with Miroku to deny it, but Miroku nodded.

Ed's shoulders slumped in response. "...ah, shit. I'll have a talk with him."

Miroku could have pointed out that sensible talks seldom worked where matters of the heart were concerned, but spared his breath. He didn't think sensible talks would have much effect on Edward, either.

"Okay, anyway," Edward continued, buttoning up his shirt briskly. "I was thinking about how we're gonna track down Envy. Once Inuyasha wakes up, I mean..."

Miroku acknowledged the abrupt change in topic with another nod. "If it's true that he's stolen the Shikon no Tama, then we will have to proceed very cautiously," he began. "We could begin by sending inquiries to some of the monasteries associated with castles that have recently acquired new daimyo…"