InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Feni's Snippets ❯ Miasma ( Chapter 17 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

How's a sensitive-nosed dog demon supposed to do battle with this?

Written for Forthright's 3rd Annual Hallowe'en Challenge on LiveJournal.

Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Comedy / Action / Romance / Hentai | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 10.31.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 763 | Visits: 1.8K | Status: Completed

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha; Rumiko Takahashi does… plus any other corporation that she's allowed to hold his leash.

A/N: Written for Forthrightly's 3rd Annual Hallowe'en Challenge on LiveJournal, on the theme of `Squeamish'.

Miasma

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“I can't do it!”

She arched an eyebrow. “Won't, more like.”

“Seriously, Kagome… I can't,” Inuyasha whimpered. “It's disgusting.”

His well-brought-up young wife gave a most indelicate snort as she rolled her eyes. “This, from the hero that once endured the agony of a gutful of poison from `this Sesshomaru'?”

“This is nothing like that,” he protested.

“Oh, really? So you're saying that this is an even bigger challenge?”

“That didn't stink… and it wasn't so… squishy… I'd rather go another round of being trapped inside Naraku's body,” Inuyasha shuddered.

“Mount Hakurei or the big spider ball? Eeyew to both,” Kagome cheerfully offered, but just when he thought he'd side-tracked her, she added, “It's wasn't that bad, even though walking on his intestines… or whatever those things were… was kinda gross.”

“You're missing the point,” he grouched.

“And you're stalling,” she retorted frostily, completing her treatment with efficient movements.

“I swear I'll puke,” he threatened.

Hooking her thumb in the direction of the hut's door, she coolly said, “Aim it outside, or I'll make you clean it up yourself.”

“Whatever happened to the `milk of human kindness'?” Inuyasha whined.

Kagome giggled merrily. “As it happens, it was a discussion about milk that started the whole problem, wasn't it?” Picking up the squirming baby, she nuzzled a petal-soft cheek and cooed, “Look at your big, strong daddy, Kioko-chan… afraid of a scary bad smell!”

“That cursed scroll painter's ink smelled better than this crap,” the hanyou growled, admitting defeat as he gingerly took hold of the bucket containing a pile of besmeared rags that plainly… and foully… advertised his baby daughter's recent introduction to solid foods.

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