InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Himitsu ❯ Secretive Diseases ( Chapter 28 )

Title: Secretive Diseases

Author: aimee_blue

Prompt: conscience [oneshot#46]

Rating: T

Genre: humour/romance

Words: 3,111

Warnings: A little harmless innuendo and underwear flashing.

Summary: They say that bad things happen to good people, apparently demon flu viruses adhere to this rule.

 

Under any normal circumstances Kagome avoided Sesshoumaru like he was the plague; she had almost perfected the art of avoiding his scathing remarks and deflecting his superiority complex. But he seemed capable of catching her at every hurdle, because Kagome had no defence mechanism in place to combat the sheer adorability of a sick-puppy Sesshoumaru.

 

Unable to stay from his apartment for long, she ran errands for him; cooking him what he wanted to eat, fetching his medicine, tottering around his house getting him hot-water-bottles and cold flannelettes for his forehead. She became accustomed to regular cuddles, encased within the nest of covers he built for them, and surprisingly considering his usual icy temperament, he was a very good snuggle buddy.

 

The Yokai was a veritable space heater who had a slight penchant for having his ears scratched and his markings stroked, not that she minded. Loveable and huggable was a nice change from distant and mocking; deliriously sick Sesshoumaru was her new best friend and she was having a lot of fun looking after him.

 

Only a twinge of guilt was felt when she took his key for easier coming and going access and she got immersed in the routine of working and then coming to see the overgrown sickly puppy after her work was done.

 

He was generally waiting for her, in his little nest of blankets and cushions, watching some b-rated movie that probably wasn't fit for viewing if one wished to keep their sanity intact.

 

Arms laden with shopping, Kagome backed into the apartment and bustled into the kitchen to put the groceries away before unwinding her scarf from around her neck and taking up residence next to Sesshoumaru on the sofa.

 

“How are you?” she asked softly, pressing a hand to his forehead and absentmindedly tracing the crescent moon that rested there on his pale brow.

 

“Getting better,” he muttered softly, burrowing his face into the side of her neck and taking in her scent in long lethargic drags. She giggled as his hot breath ghosted over her collar bone.

“Getting better? You're still too cuddly to be better, Sesshoumaru,” she admonished softly relaxing as he leant his head against her shoulder, his hair spilling across her in a silken curtain.

 

“Medicine's effect,” he grunted, still nosing around her collar bone intently.

 

She watched his eyelids droop languidly, revealing the magenta stripes that adorned them as he slowly fell asleep against her; face now pillowed against her breasts.

 

She passed her thumb over the bottommost stripe on the left side of his face with a slow sigh. After he was better, would this companionship revert to taunts and ridicule?

 

***

 

Returning to work the next morning felt like torture but there was something else niggling at the mighty Sesshoumaru...

 

If Sesshoumaru had a conscience, the empty seat where Kagome usually sat would probably have twanged on his heart strings. But the fact was, he didn't; he was fairly sure excessive narcissism and chronic arrogance had rendered him void of such an insignificant thing as a conscience.

 

But the fact that his eyes kept flickering back to her empty seat spoke volumes as his thoroughly quashed conscience bloomed into life after years of neglect.

 

His fingers twitched and his left eyebrow flexed; he was itching to ask Jakotsu how the apparently sick Miko was fairing. The feminine man was practically bursting with the smug knowledge of Kagome's wellbeing and it was ruffling Sesshoumaru's tail-feathers.

 

“Why don't you just ask me already?” Jakotsu asked, preening smugly as he slanted his eyes towards the painfully curious dog demon.

 

Sesshoumaru feigned obliviousness but in reality he was listening intently, had he possessed his half-brother's dog-like ears they would be trained on Jakotsu.

 

“She's got a monstrous flu, which you gave her by the way, you and your Yokai germs, and she's refusing to leave her bed or do much of anything.”

 

Ah, so the human had caught a demon virus, and there was him thinking such a thing to be impossible. Apparently it was not.

 

Cat-like golden eyes flickered to her desk once more and, sighing as if stuck in great turmoil, Sesshoumaru decided he would go and visit the Miko after work... but not out of concern. Merely duty considering she had nursed him back to health.

 

***

 

Sesshoumaru rapped firmly on the door to Kagome's apartment, any passersby would have seen his scrunched up nose and impatient expression and assumed he was running late for some kind of meeting. In reality he was wincing at the scent of the ramen vendor scent that wafted up from the street below and knocking impatiently because he was certain that once inside the apartment he could banish the unwanted olfactory invasion.

 

The door was yanked open almost immediately and he met the eyes of her perverted friend who looked harassed; his eyes were wide and he appeared ridiculously bedraggled.

 

His violet orbs lit up at the sight of Sesshoumaru though, “Thank god you're here, take her!”

 

And with that, Sesshoumaru found himself shunted inside the apartment, the lecher closing the door behind him and locking it with an audible click.

 

What had the man meant, take her?

 

“Kagome?” he called, his deep voice seemingly reverberating throughout the entire apartment, a newspaper fell off the side of the sofa and he approached warily.

 

There was no one in the living room, but the debris scattered around the place hinted that it had only recently been inhabited. Scrunched up tissues toppled out of an already full wastepaper basket, a duvet lay discarded on the sofa along with a cold cloth that drooped on the coffee table next to a half eaten bowl of what his nose told him was miso soup.

 

A clattering sound from the kitchen garnered his attention and he slowly went to investigate, golden eyes shrewd.

 

But what waited for him in the kitchen was enough to make any demon tremble.

 

Kagome swayed in the middle of the kitchen, a whisk in one hand, the other clutching the shawl she'd slung round her bare shoulders.

 

Sesshoumaru would have blushed upon realising she was apparently bare underneath the shawl if he wasn't a demon and immune to the human failing of modesty.

 

“Kagome?” he tried hesitantly, her eyes were slightly unfocused as she gazed down at the cooker deliriously.

 

Her eyes swivelled to look at him, though her body remained facing the cooker. “Shoo!”

 

“I am not a dog,” he reminded her cantankerously, folding his arms obstinately.

 

“Shoo!” she cried again, this time twirling to face him, her large blue eyes watering and her cheeks so red with fever it looked like sunburn, the whisk outstretched and pointed right at him, “I'm not supposed to hallucinate!”

 

She thought he was a hallucination? That was... strange but then he was dealing with Kagome he supposed.

 

“Hallucinate?” Sesshoumaru asked softly, going slightly cross-eyed at the whisk that she had pushed so close to his face it was nearly touching his nose, “Why are you hallucinating?”

 

She narrowed her eyes into slits, dropping the whisk down onto the floor with a clatter and thought about it for a while. “Doctor said I have a demon-flu, Jakotsu said it's the real Sesshoumaru's fault!”

 

“I am the real Sesshoumaru,” he corrected her tersely, flicking a strand of silver hair over one shoulder brusquely.

 

“You said that last time,” she argued, swaying more sporadically now, “but the medicine was supposed to keep you gone!”

 

“Medicine?”

 

“Yeah! Behind you,” she pointed, nearly falling over from extending her arm too suddenly, as if her finger weighed a thousand pounds.

 

He spied the innocent enough looking medicine bottle on the side and plucked it from the side between two claws, the pills inside rattled compulsively.

 

Turning frantic eyes on her he half-shouted, “This is demon strength, Kagome!”

 

She nodded earnestly for a while until she figured out it made her headache worse and stopped so abruptly that she stumbled and had to clutch the kitchen counter. “The doctor, he told Miroku that I had to take demon strength pills because I'm spiritually aware,” the sentence took her a while and he could tell she was making an effort to speak it properly.

 

“You are spiritually aware?” he asked curiously.

 

She nodded only once, seemingly mindful of her headache. “I grew up on a shrine, remember?”

 

“Why don't you go and sit down in the living room?” he asked, eyeing her knees distrustfully as they buckled slightly and she wavered on her feet.

 

She slapped away the offering arm angrily. “I'm making toast!” she protested.

 

“With a whisk?” he asked, eyeing the discarded implement.

 

“Shhh!” she pressed a finger to his lips to quieten him and swayed violently once again.

 

Sighing, Sesshoumaru gently swept the delirious girl off her feet and gathered her protesting body into his arms.

 

“No! I want my toast!”

 

“I will make you your toast as soon as you sit down Kagome, I promise.”

 

“But you're a hallucination!” she protested

 

“If I'm a hallucination how are you being held up?” he asked dubiously, half expectant of her probably insane answer.

 

“I can fly?” she ventured, twirling his long forelocks around one finger absently.

 

“Unlikely,” he muttered, baring with the indignity of having his long hair pulled on by his passenger as if he was some sort of horse that needed steering.

 

Pressing her hot little face to his neck she sighed softly, the influx of air ghosted over his skin forcing him to repress a shudder. “You smell nice, Sesshoumaru.”

 

“I will remind you of that fact when you are less delirious,” he promised sincerely, a hint of a smirk curving the corners of his mouth as he deposited her on the sofa and bundled her back into her duvet.

 

She blinked at the swaths of cloth and then beat them away, arms flailing wildly. “I'm hot!” she protested, jumping to her feet and loosing the shawl-cape.

 

Sesshoumaru's eyes widened to painful proportions as he looked at her; he'd assumed she was naked under the shawl but he supposed he should have expected otherwise, the bunny rabbit panties were fairly commonplace, even likely from Kagome, the bra on the other hand was a scary greying contraption that looked more painful and hideous than practical. Perhaps it was meant as chastity underwear? He wasn't sure.

 

Sighing heavily at his predicament, he slipped the shawl back around her shoulders, holding it there as she tried to rid herself of it.

 

“No!” she protested, wriggling like a landed fish.

 

“If you keep this on I'll make you three slices of toast,” he bribed; who would've guessed it would be this hard to preserve her modesty?

 

She considered this for a while, her eyelids drooping sleepily, “M'kay,” she muttered, flopping, boneless, onto the sofa and sinking into the forgiving cushions.

 

Slipping the toast into the toaster, Sesshoumaru set it going and collected the whisk she had dropped, placing it back into its rightful place.

 

That was when he felt it.

 

A most entirely unexpected sensation.

 

What the hell?

 

“Kagome, are you biting me?” he asked incredulously, without turning around, struck dumb by the audacity of her shenanigans.

 

Small human teeth prickled against the exposed skin where his neck met his shoulder and they refused to relinquish their tight grip on his neck; though it didn't hurt it was an uncomfortable position to be in. For a demon such as Sesshoumaru this submission hold was ludicrous considering whose jaws he was captured in and he was fighting the urge to roll his eyes at the nerve of the human.

 

He felt the pressure against his neck shift as she nodded.

 

“Why?” he asked exasperatedly.

 

“Wanted to see what you tasted like,” she mumbled around the demon she was gnawing on.

 

Repressing the mental images her statement prompted, Sesshoumaru prised her off his neck and shoved the toast in her mouth. “Taste this instead.”

 

She chewed ferociously for a long time and then glared up at him. “You're so mean to me!” she whined, pouting in a way that made her look like a petulant toddler.

 

“You need to sleep,” he proposed, sceptical that she would even submit to his wishes.

 

“You'll have to make me,” she challenged, backing off slightly, eyes bright and cheeks as red as red could be.

 

Clawed hands reached out for her arm but the claws merely ghosted across her arm as she skidded away from him on her socks.

 

Nothing like a game of `Catch The Kagome' to make a demon want to tear his own hair out.

 

She was acting so strange it was fairly laughable and whilst a part of him found it amusing that the medicine was making her loopy another part was struggling with guilt as it dealt with the fact that he'd caused her illness.

 

Seconds later she had been pounced upon by a fed up Sesshoumaru, bundled up in her duvet and relegated to her sofa where Sesshoumaru kept her prisoner in his arms, ignoring any and all insane ramblings until the sedative part of the medicine kicked in and she slumped against him; suddenly exhausted.

 

“You know,” she grumbled as she wriggled in his lap to make herself more comfortable, “you're not very comfy, you're too stiff,” she pushed futilely at his shoulder earning herself a quirk of his eyebrow.

 

The amount of ways he could have interpreted that last comment... but he'd decided to wait until after she was better and less loopy.

 

“Shut up and go to sleep, crazy Kagome,” he chastised softly leaning back into the sofa as she finally relaxed and succumbed to the beckoning world of dreams.

 

***

 

Retail therapy was good for a woman who'd been dealing with a sick roommate for the past twenty four hours. Sango had felt a twang of guilt at abandoning Miroku to Kagome's crazy illness-induced hyperactivity but she'd gleefully drowned it out and gone shopping until it hurt to even walk.

 

Now she rested her poor hurting feet and flexed her stiff hands to get the circulation going again; lugging bags around all day was enough to make anyone's hands ache.

 

Gleefully biting into her green tea kasutera she indulged in a little bout of crowd watching, only to be surprised by a particular member of the crowd.

 

Sango blinked as she watched Miroku swerve and slither through the pressing crowd to get to her seat outside her favourite cafe; what on earth was he doing here? He was supposed to be looking after Kagome!

 

“Explain,” she demanded as an out-of-breath Miroku stopped by her tableside.

 

“She was driving me up the wall Sango!” he pleaded mournfully, hands clasping her own lovingly.

 

“So much so that you decided to leave her alone? How could you, you know that the medicine makes her slightly delirious!”

 

“Slightly?” he asked incredulously, violet eyes wide and disbelieving.

 

Shifty eyes darted to their intertwined hands and Sango shrugged. “You still shouldn't have left her alone.”

 

“I didn't.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Sesshoumaru-san came over, I left her with him,” Miroku said blithely, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

 

Sango repressed the urge to slap him, it was hard... very hard but she managed it. “Do you want them to destroy the apartment? Baka!”

 

Miroku put his hands on her shoulders calmingly, keeping her in her seat as she tried to spring into action. “It's okay, they'll be fine,” he promised cheerfully.

 

“Agh! You don't know that,” she pointed out, tossing her long brown hair behind her shoulder angrily.

 

“Nope, but I do know that if we leave now we can arrive at KitchÅ in time to make good on my reservations,” he wrangled, waggling his eyebrows persuasively. It was, after all, supposed to be their date night and Kagome was being looked after by Sesshoumaru...

 

Brown eyes grew large and awestruck and Miroku celebrated a victory as she hesitantly uttered, “I suppose it will be okay...”

 

“Of course it will, Sango my love!”

 

***

 

It was a contentedly full but decidedly guilty Sango that opened the door to the apartment that night. Miroku had wrangled them an impossible-to-get table at one of the classiest restaurants in Tokyo and she'd been out wining and dining whilst her best friend was ill and practically being held hostage in her own home by the vile Sesshoumaru.

 

When she set foot in the living room however, her misconceptions flew out the window and she stared, awestruck, at the cuddling couple snoozing sedately on the sofa.

 

Miroku, equally shocked yet still in control of his jaw unlike the slack jawed Sango, chuckled slightly. “Well, I have to say I wasn't expecting that of all the scenarios we could have come home to... and look! The apartment is still intact!”

 

“Yeah,” a stunned Sango uttered hollowly.

 

Miroku tilted his head to one side, inspecting the lethargic couple. Sesshoumaru's hair fanned across Kagome's body in a possessive waterfall of silver strands, strong arms supported her as she lay across him with one hand capturing her hip proprietarily and the other clutching her shoulder. She'd curled up, cat-like in his lap her legs were tucked in between them, a hand curled around his collar and her face hidden in his neck.

 

“They look... well... I have the strangest compulsion to take a picture of them,” Miroku tapped his chin thoughtfully, “maybe because they look...” he paused here pursing his lips as he tried to come up something, “cute?”

 

Miroku seemed unsatisfied with his chosen adjective and frowned wrinkling his nose.

 

“Be grateful I do not kill, human, for insinuating that I am anything but deadly,” the hissed words came from Sesshoumaru, who still had his eyes closed with the same sedate expression; nothing hinted that he had even spoken but that cold tone could belong to no other.

 

Had he even been asleep in the first place?

 

Cat-like golden eyes opened into slits, the intensity of the orbs making them glow in the half-light of the impending dusk.

 

“Um... Sesshoumaru-san I was just—” Miroku began but trailed off when he realised he really didn't have an excuse for calling the demon `cute', he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

 

“Thank you, Sesshoumaru-san, for looking after Kagome while we were away,” Sango filled in for her boyfriend quickly, bowing stiffly.

 

Sesshoumaru quirked a brow. “Babysitting is no great inconvenience,” he drawled, “but...” he paused ominously, glowing eyes pinning them piercingly, “you owe me.”

 

Shaky, sporadic nodding followed as the two humans picked up on the menace laced within his tone.

 

Sensuous lips curled into a smirk. “I'm glad we understand each other.”