With effort, Kagome finally managed to roll Sesshoumaru off of her. Panting with exertion, she righted her clothes as much as she could and tried to gather her scattered wits together. She felt the need to take inventory of the situation.

First off, Sesshoumaru was no longer in mortal danger. Looking over at him, Kagome noted that he was now sleeping peacefully, his breathing deep and even once again. Her heart lifted at the sight.

Second off, she had almost had sex with him.

Kagome’s head immediately started to spin. No, never mind—she would have to come back to that one later.

Shivering, she realized that the fire in the hearth had burned down almost to coals. Her whole body ached as she got to her feet and padded over to rekindle it. She needed a bath something fierce, but that would just have to wait until morning.

In the meantime, she pulled on a pair of proper pajamas and settled down on a spare futon across from the slumbering demon lord. Studying him in profile, she revisited that episode of being trapped beneath him, of feeling his hands on her, his mouth on her—of feeling his hardness between her thighs. Just the memory of it set her tingling.

As badly as she had wanted him in that moment—as badly as she still wanted him now, for Kami’s sake—Kagome was glad things had ended when they did. Although she supposed Sesshoumaru had a right to take her whenever he chose, according to the terms of their agreement, she suspected that he would prefer to be in his right mind while doing so. Furthermore, from her perspective, sleeping with one’s fever-addled patient hardly seemed like an ethical thing to do.

Kagome flushed all over again with mortification. If she hadn’t been so thoroughly exhausted, there was no way she would have been able to sleep that night. But as soon as her leaden eyelids slid shut, she was out like a light.

It was late in the morning when she awoke, cool and sticky, her cheek plastered to her bedroll. Her skin pulled and itched as she sat up, her hair clumped against her face and neck. She had no idea what she must look like right now, and frankly she never wanted herself—or anyone else—to know.

Hoping to sneak off to the bathhouse undetected, Kagome stood, preparing to tiptoe over to her yellow backpack, when she noticed a set of golden eyes upon her. Reclining against the rear wall of the hut, Sesshoumaru watched her, looking distinctly—yet somehow still elegantly—rumpled.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Kagome said, cringing inwardly at how dumb that had sounded. “Er…do you need anything?”

“Water,” he replied stiffly.

Hurrying over to the jug in the corner, Kagome filled a cup and hurried back to him. His fingertips brushed hers as he accepted it, the brief contact making her blush.

Draining the cup in one tilt, Sesshoumaru handed it back to her with an impatient look. “More.”

A little irked at his tone, Kagome decided to let it go, refilling the cup for him—and again another two times before she finally just brought over the entire jug. In dim amazement, she watched as he hefted it up with both hands, downing the entire thing in a series of long, steady gulps.

“How long was I unconscious?” he asked, setting the jug aside.

“Not quite a day,” she answered, fiddling with her thumbs. “If you, um, don’t count last night…”

His eyes narrowed. “Last night?”

Kagome stiffened. He doesn’t remember anything. She wasn’t quite sure whether to feel disappointed or relieved.

“What happened last night?” he demanded.

“Um…n-nothing!” she said hastily, throwing up her hands. “It just seemed like you came to for a minute there—but I guess not! Eheh.”

He frowned, regarding her intently for a moment more before he glanced away, his nose wrinkling faintly.

“Miko, you need to bathe.”

Kagome glowered, her fists clenching at her sides in indignation. Maybe unconscious Sesshoumaru hadn’t been so bad, after all.

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi