InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Blackout ❯ Morning After Anxiety ( Chapter 2 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: King Baka 
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai / Adventure / Angst | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 01.01.2014 | Pages: 3 | Words: 7.6K | Visits: 2.3K | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai / Adventure / Angst | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 01.01.2014 | Pages: 3 | Words: 7.6K | Visits: 2.3K | Status: Work In Progress
Disclaimer: I don’t own Inuyasha or any of the publicly known characters, plot, etc. I’m just renting them from Rumiko Takahashi, Viz, etc. I do own the plot of this story and any original characters I’ve created. I will make no money from this fic; I write for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of my readers.
A/N – I did some research (or rather, Splendentgoddess helpfully reminded me), and it turns out that Inuyasha is affected by alcohol in the manga. It’s during chapter 486, where Sango talks to that sage guy about fixing hiraikotsu. Inuyasha gets repeatedly dunked in jars of sake and gets pretty tipsy, even though he couldn’t have ingested that much of the stuff. The sake affects Shippou too, so evidently alcohol is the great equalizer between humans and youkai!
And someone asked about the length of this story. Hard for me to guess at this point, but I’m expecting maybe 20 chapters? Like Entrapment length, not Metamorphosis length.
Morning-After Anxiety
The first thing Kagome became aware of as she floundered back to consciousness was the rapid pulsing of her heart. Every beat reverberated through her cranium, like a giant amplifier blasting a bassline at 150 decibels. Her involuntary groan came out as a weak cough, a consequence of a parched throat. Her mind was trapped in a haze of pain and lethargy, and she struggled to get her bearings. Through fluttering eyes she glimpsed an unfamiliar wooden wall before she was forced to shut them again by the abnormally blinding light. She could gather that she was lying on a futon in an unfamiliar room, but anything beyond that was more than she could manage. That, and the disturbing queasiness of her stomach.
Some instinct or thread of decorum drove her to seek a more appropriate place to expel the vomit she knew was coming. She rolled into an unstable crouch, the resulting dizziness causing her belly to roil even more intensely. Half walking, half crawling, she stumbled through the doorway and leaned over the edge of the wooden platform she could just barely make out through slitted, teary eyes.
What followed was misery, pure and simple. Where often times, expelling whatever was creating a disturbance in the stomach would bring some relief, by the time Kagome was finished she felt even more terrible than when she had started. Not only was her throat dry, but now it stung fiercely as well. She still could not open her eyes more than a fraction, lest her retinas set to burning. And her stomach was still rumbling as well; she had a feeling that she was not yet finished with her gastric exhumation. She certainly was not done with headache and soreness in seemingly every major muscle in her entire body.
The one thing that made this small eternity of torment bearable occurred during, when a familiar item of cloth was draped over her shoulders. Even in her cloudy mental state, she recognized Inuyasha’s haori when she felt it. His action did serve to reveal that she was naked, but that only caused her to be doubly grateful for his consideration. The hesitant yet comforting stroke of his hand as it rubbed her back was also appreciated. His presence put her at some level of ease; she could at least know that she was safe, except from whatever curse was wracking her body.
His hand left her back when she stopped vomiting, but she could still sense his presence behind her. When she felt up to it, she sat back on her heels and leaned bonelessly into him. He stiffened, but made no move to withdraw. He also did not put his arm around her shoulder, as she had hoped that he would. But she would content herself with the contact he permitted, glad that he was here with her in her time of suffering. Here, with him, she could allow her mind to wander and try to figure out how she had ended up in this sorry state.
She remembered sake—far too much sake, apparently. Their host had been unusually gracious with his drink and gold, which he had used to bring together a celebration the likes of which Kagome had never seen in the feudal era before. This was probably due to a combination of many factors, among them the rescue of his only child whom he doted on constantly, the fact that he was by nature a drinker and a ‘partier’ by the standards of the time, and the simple fact that he could afford it. She had thought it too rude to refuse the invitation, especially when Miroku was already inside enjoying himself. She had also seen the irritated look on Sango’s face and hoped, perhaps naively, that Miroku would show some restraint in the taijiya’s presence. She knew Sango secretly liked the lecherous houshi. How the evening had gone for either of them, Kagome could not say. She could not even remember how her evening had ended.
What she did know, was that she had dragged Inuyasha into the party with a promise that they could stay a little while and then go to bed. Shippou and Kirara had done just that moments before, since it had already been fairly late. They were the smart ones. The dummies, i.e. the mature adults of the group, joined the celebration and were soon swept up by the festive atmosphere. Even Kagome, whose tongue had never touched a drop of alcohol in her life, found herself unable to resist that first toast. She groaned as she remembered her words, one of those incredibly foolish phrases which one looks back on later with contempt and dismay. ‘One little drink’ had indeed not hurt, but the unknown quantity of alcohol she had consumed later certainly did.
But why had she drunk so much in the first place? Maybe it was because Inuyasha was pounding back sake like an alcoholic after a long dry spell. Miroku and Sango were off doing their own thing, and she had been stuck carrying on an unwanted conversation with some of their host’s male relatives, who were clearly interested in her uncommon looks and strange clothing. It was a difficult task trying to be polite enough not to offend, but not too polite to give any of them the idea that they had any chance whatsoever of getting ‘lucky’ with her tonight. Adding to her stress, she had to worry about Inuyasha going into a jealous fit and causing a scene. That concern at least was unwarranted; the hanyou had quickly become so wasted that he would not have noticed if she had hopped into some stranger’s lap shouting ‘take me!’
Eventually her male suitors got the message and wandered off to find more enjoyable company. So Kagome was left alone, growing more annoyed by the second. Why should she be the only one at the party having no fun at all? What was she, Inuyasha’s personal chaperone? Her rising temper caused her to do something foolish. All at once she downed a whole cup of sake, sidled up to one of the handsome gentlemen she had talked to previously, and started a whole new conversation. This one was decidedly more ‘polite’ than before, and as she became more and more inebriated, he probably thought he had a very good chance of getting laid.
Kagome gasped and sat up straight, an act which caused her head to swim and the bile to rise in the back of her throat. Thankfully she was able to keep it down this time. But of far greater concern was what she may or may not have done with any number of the interested males at the party. Dreading what the action might reveal, she shifted her weight slightly from one thigh to another. To her infinite dismay, there was a definite discomfort down there, unlike the general muscle soreness gripping the rest of her body, which was almost akin to the early onset of the flu. The ache between her legs, on the other hand, was more localized, a sharp pain from unused muscles and untouched parts of her body which had dulled over time. That, and the disquieting stickiness of her inner thighs, left no doubt as to exactly what had occurred last night.
Tears sprung to her eyes, and she struggled to avoid collapsing into a pitiful ball of sobs. That would come later, when she was alone in her room back home. She did not want to show such weakness in front of Inuyasha; she was sure he already felt terrible for allowing this to happen to her. It would be easy to blame him and their other friends for not staying with her at the party, or stopping her from getting so drunk. But she wouldn’t do that either; in the end, this was her fault. She had behaved incredibly irresponsibly, and this was her punishment.
It seemed a harsh penalty. She felt empty inside, like someone had stolen something from her, something she could never get back. There was something missing now, a part of her which she had valued, how much she never realized until it was torn away from her. Maybe it was the knowledge that she was a virgin, that she had never caved to peer pressure and was saving herself for love. Maybe it was her private fantasies that one day she would give her purity to the man sitting right behind her. That was probably what hurt the most. Even if her wildest dreams came true, and she and Inuyasha married and raised a family together, she would never be able to give him her most cherished gift, the one the Kami gave her as a woman. She didn’t think Inuyasha was the kind of guy to care about such a thing, not really, but both of them would always know that she in her foolishness had deprived them of a wonderful experience. Was it a blessing or a curse that she did not remember the unfortunate event? She couldn’t even remember who the lucky suitor might have been; her memories of the evening stopped with her still at the party, tipping back the last dregs of a jug of sake.
For the sake of her lover—she blanched at that word—she hoped that Inuyasha was unable to either remember his identity or figure it out through scent. Though she felt violated, the man had done nothing wrong by the standards of the time. She could not hold him to the consent laws of the modern era; that wasn’t part of his moral code and it would be unfair to enforce it against him. Especially when Inuyasha’s brand of ‘justice’ would probably involve some sort of dismemberment, most likely of the body part which had violated her the most.
She spared a glance over her shoulder to gauge Inuyasha’s mood, and was surprised at what she saw. She had been hoping not to have to ‘osuwari’ him to save the life of her lover—there was that awful word again—but that appeared to be a baseless concern. Inuyasha’s head was turned away, his eyes gazing forlornly at the ground. His countenance spoke of heavy remorse and a healthy amount of self-loathing, but was astonishingly lacking in anger or desire to maim. Did he feel so guilty himself that he was letting her lov—consort off the hook? That did not sound like him at all. The Inuyasha she knew let his guilt turn into rage, fueling him to a frenzy which was woe to anyone else who had wronged her. So why wasn’t he contemplating the most gruesome way to kill the man who had taken her virginity last night?
She could admit that she was a little irritated by his lack of spirit. Perhaps it was shallow, but she wanted him to be pissed off. She wanted fury to be exuding from every pore in his body, even though she would not let him act on it. She almost wanted to have to use the ‘osuwari’ command to keep him in check. At least that meant he cared. This sad, whipped puppy Inuyasha was disconcerting, like he didn’t give a damn about who she slept with. Like he was only remorseful because her hangover was so bad. She was just about give voice to her displeasure when another idea occurred to her. She had woken up alone on the futon, but Inuyasha had been right there with her. So either he had already left her consort decaying in a pool of his own blood, or…
She didn’t think it was possible, but her mouth became even drier. Her stomach roiled fiercely once more, bubbling with conflicting emotions. She found herself praying with her heart that the answer to her next question was ‘yes,’ and with her rational mind that it was ‘no.’
“Inuyasha,” she croaked. His eyes rose to meet hers for the first time, and she gulped at the intensity of his gaze. “Did we…did we…”
She couldn’t finish. But fortunately, or unfortunately, he seemed to understand. Reluctantly, he nodded.
Kagome leaned forward and heaved what was left of her stomach onto the grass.
The other four members of the group had arrived just as Kagome finished retching for the second time and collapsed into a miserable ball. Sango and Miroku took one look at them and instantly knew what had happened. If their state of dress wasn’t indication enough—Inuyasha’s kosode was hanging open at the front and Kagome was still clad in only his haori—the look on the hanyou’s face told them everything they needed to know. Fortunately, neither had said anything, either in reproach or teasing. Both would come later, Inuyasha was sure. But Kagome’s condition had at least put those inevitable conversations on hold. As for Miroku and Sango, both were slightly pale and appeared a little worse for wear, but otherwise they seemed normal. Inuyasha didn’t know if anything had happened between or to either of them, and he didn’t ask. He had more pressing concerns at the moment.
It absolutely killed him that there was nothing he could do for Kagome. Even when he had run to the village well and brought her water, she had drunk it too fast and wound up puking again. Afterwards they had forced her to drink more, over her protests, and she had managed to keep a little down. He was sure she was still quite dehydrated though. So was he, for that matter. But he was hanyou, and could handle it. Humans were so fragile, and dehydration could quickly become a big problem for them. He would have to be on high alert to make sure Kagome’s hangover didn’t develop into something worse.
She was sleeping fitfully now, which was probably the best thing for her. Sango had helped her clean up a bit and change into a fresh set of pajamas. They had wanted to let her rest at the village for the day, but Kagome was adamant that they leave immediately. The thought of remaining there for another second seemed repugnant to her. As they tried to persuade her and her temper rose, she began to border on incoherency, and none of them wished to push her over something so small. So they agreed to leave on the condition that Kagome be carried. Everyone expected her to ride on Kirara, including Inuyasha. So he was understandably shocked when Kagome instead looked to him and asked if he would carry her. She probably felt so terrible that she didn’t care that the act of riding on his back should be incredibly awkward right now, for both of them.
Somehow it wasn’t, at least for him. Even now, having her nestled against his back, her thighs in his hands, felt amazingly natural. He would have to savor the sensation of having her so close, because this was probably the last time it would ever happen. Once she recovered from her hangover, she would likely never permit this level of physical proximity ever again. And he wouldn’t blame her. He was a dirtbag, pure and simple. He deserved whatever punishment she chose to mete out, and more. Not only had he failed to protect her from drinking herself ill, but he had violated her trust and taken her innocence. ‘Taken’ wasn’t even a strong enough word for what he had done; he had essentially stolen her virginity like a thief in the night. And if he hadn’t raped her while she was passed out, then he had almost certainly pressured her into unwanted sex when she was too drunk to refuse.
That was a very dismal way of looking at things, of course. He hoped that making such assumptions would prove rash in the end. In the best case scenario, his and Kagome’s tryst had been an accident in the purest sense of the word, with no greater portion of fault to either side. He prayed that the truth was close to that extreme, rather than the opposite one. If his worst fears turned out to be valid…he didn’t know what he would do. But perhaps his lack of memory was simply causing him to panic and conjure irrational thoughts. He had never believed himself capable of taking advantage of someone like that. Could alcohol magically make a person behave in such a way if he had no predispositions toward such behavior while sober? He knew the mystery surrounding the event was getting to him; he could not help but consider the possibility that deep down he was the monster everyone assumed him to be. Everyone before Kagome, that is. The beautiful girl with a bigger heart than anyone he had ever met. The pure soul he had spoiled with his drunken lust.
There was his guilty conscience running away with him again. It really would make more sense to wait and see how Kagome felt about all of this before condemning himself. But couldn’t help it! His imagination would not calm until he had talked to her. He was probably reading too much into the horrified expression on her face as she realized what they had done. Did that look stem from losing her virginity in the first place, losing it to him, or just because she was about to be sick again? Afterwards, fatigue had been the primary emotion he could pick up from her. She had not seemed angry, per se, just exhausted. And despite the fact that she knew what had happened, she had still asked him to carry her. That had to mean something, right?
He sincerely hoped so. He didn’t want this to be the last time he held her, her body nestled against his own creating the feeling in his heart that all was right with the world. In the quiet moments they periodically shared, he could forget about Naraku, the Shikon no Tama, and his promises to Kikyou. He could forget everything except Kagome, her face, her scent, and the knowledge that her desire to be there with him was as strong as his own to have her close. As he had told her before, he needed her by his side. ‘By his side,’ not merely meaning a companion on their mission, but someone who would literally stand beside him. Someone who would take on any challenge with him, support him physically and spiritually, and place more faith and trust in him than he could place in himself. And he needed the casual physical contact, the seemingly innocuous unnecessary touching that backed up her words—that she did not care if he was a hanyou, that she liked him for who he was. He trusted Kagome when she told him that, and would always keep those words close to his heart. But he had been living so long with the beliefs that had been beaten into him as a child—at times literally—that he sometimes found himself doubting the words anyway. Her touch always reminded him that Kagome was special in this regard; her heart reflected exactly what she said. No one would allow a hanyou to carry her, or embrace him out of relief, or cry for him, or do any of the hundred other things which were uniquely ‘Kagome,’ unless she truly and completely accepted him for who he was.
If he lost that, if he lost what made her Kagome…he would lose the best part of himself.
If there was one thing to regret about last night, this was it. He was not remorseful for his own sake; he did not feel like he had lost anything by having his first sexual experience be with Kagome. Who else should he have given his virginity to? Kikyou? Having sex with his former love had never been an immediate possibility. Fifty years ago, he had known better than to even entertain those thoughts until they were both human and wed. And now, even if she could physically have intercourse in her current body, she would still never lower herself to lying with a hanyou. Since he wasn’t about to become human for her now, the odds of him and Kikyou ever having sex were miniscule, whether he went to hell with her or not. He could not say he was disappointed. He would have loved her in every sense of the word had they been married, but even back then he had never really viewed Kikyou as a potential sexual partner. He had not been allowed to, not by the world around them, and not by Kikyou herself.
Beyond all that, what truly shocked him was that he felt no remorse for Kikyou’s sake. Rationally, even though he and Kikyou were never intimate, he was promised to her and by all rights he should feel guilty for betraying her with Kagome. Only it didn’t feel like betrayal. The trust between them had already been broken, in part by Kikyou’s own actions both before and after her resurrection. Or perhaps it had never been strong to begin with.
So ultimately, his greatest fear—aside from being revealed as a rapist bastard—was not how Kikyou would react if she ever found out about last night. It was that he would lose Kagome, his Kagome, his best friend, closest companion and greatest opponent all wrapped into one. Their relationship would surely change after this; how could it not? But if she drifted away from him, if she blamed him for this, if she realized that a filthy hanyou with nothing to his name but a rusty sword and the clothes on his back was unworthy of her affections after all… If she became like Kikyou…
He shuddered, causing the girl on his back to stir slightly. He tightened his grip on her thighs as she settled back down, drawing courage from the way she muttered his name in slumber. He resolved to do everything in his power to make sure he and Kagome did not drift apart. He would fight for her, against her if needed. If he had to get down on his hands and knees and beg for forgiveness, he would damn well do it. And if things were awkward between them for a time, that would be no less than he expected. Slowly but surely, however, things would go back to close to the way they were before that fateful night. Perhaps they would even be better.
Now he was being overly optimistic, but it was much more pleasant than his earlier pessimism. He spent most of the morning and much of the afternoon brooding in silence, arguing with himself in this back-and-forth fashion. Finally, as the sun was perched about halfway between its apex and its setting place in the western skyline, Kagome lifted her head off his shoulder and groaned. Without turning around, he could picture her holding her head with a pained grimace marring her features. His ears swiftly lowered in renewed guilt.
“Kagome!” Shippou yelled as he came barreling toward them, the first of their companions to realize she was awake thanks to his youkai hearing. Kagome cringed at the volume of his shout, and Inuyasha would have bopped him if it didn’t mean dislodging his fragile cargo. Shippou clambered up and perched atop his shoulder, blissfully unaware of the hanyou’s ire, but thankfully he did keep his voice down from then on.
“Are you okay, Kagome?”
“A little better, Shippou-chan,” Kagome responded after taking a few moments to assess her condition. “I think I might be done throwing up at least.”
Inuyasha was obviously relieved to hear this; getting covered in Kagome’s vomit was no less than he deserved, but he still hoped to avoid it if he could. She still sounded pretty miserable though. He imagined her head was throbbing fiercely, and he knew she was dehydrated and possibly malnourished. The last thing she had eaten that had actually stayed down had been a rather early dinner last night. Perhaps it was time to try to get her to munch on something, just to keep her strength up. She had to drink fluids; there was no arguing that. He would force her to drink even if she used ‘osuwari’ a hundred times. Hopefully that could be avoided too. He was contemplating the best way to approach this delicate issue when the conversation turned in an unfortunate direction.
“You were asleep for a long time, Kagome,” Shippou told her worriedly. “I thought you were really getting sick.”
“I don’t think so, Shippou-chan. This is just me recovering from all of that cursed alcohol. Plus, I guess I didn’t get very much sleep last night.”
Inuyasha stiffened and felt Kagome do the same. Both immediately blushed hotly, realizing how that comment could be taken by one so inclined. And unfortunately, they did know someone so inclined. Apparently now that Kagome wasn’t in such bad shape, she and Inuyasha were ripe for some fully-justified teasing. But an unexpected savior came to their rescue, with a well-timed elbow under the ribs. Miroku put on a sheepish grin and shrugged. He could afford to bide his time. Sango favored both of them with a look that clearly said ‘you’re welcome’ and changed the subject.
“Do you think you could eat something, Kagome-chan? You might feel better after you get some food in your stomach.”
Much to Inuyasha’s surprise, Kagome agreed easily. They paused in their trek long enough for her to down half a bottle of water and munch on a few crackers from her bag. Once she was finished, Inuyasha knelt down for her to mount up again, but she expressed a desire to ‘stretch her legs.’ The hanyou shrugged nonchalantly to cover his concern, hoping that the only reason for this change of heart was because Kagome felt guilty for making Miroku and Sango take turns toting her bag around. When she went to pick it up, however, he quickly snatched it from her grasp and slung if over his own shoulder. The shy smile she favored him with had him flushing all over again, and he swiftly turned away from her. He was grateful for the embarrassment, however; that smile had eased the fears of rejection which had arisen after she turned down his offer to carry her.
A few minutes later, Inuyasha found himself walking at the rear of the group with Miroku, who had drifted back to join him. Kagome and Sango strode side by side ahead of them, Shippou and Kirara perched atop their respective shoulders. Inuyasha had taken up the rear position so he could keep an eye on Kagome and make sure she wasn’t wobbly on her feet, but he suspected that the bouzu had less honorable motives. An intuition confirmed when the monk opened his mouth.
“A lovely sight, is it not?” he asked quietly, grinning cheerfully with just a hint of lechery.
Inuyasha rolled his eyes. He was not in the mood for this, as the bouzu found out when he received another elbow under the ribs for his trouble. After that, Miroku left him alone. This was not to say that Inuyasha disputed the man’s point—Kagome and Sango walking in front of them was a rather lovely sight. He would die before he admitted that aloud though. This of course did not stop him from admiring the comely vision in passing. Not staring, certainly not staring. Was it a blessing or a curse that he could not remember what Kagome looked like during carnal acts? It was not as though he had failed to appreciate how pleasing to the eye her lithe form and short skirt were before today, but now his attraction seemed stronger somehow. Another change that should come as no surprise, he supposed. There was no way in hell he was going to start behaving like the bouzu, so he figured it was nothing to worry about.
A couple hours later, as Kagome’s pace slowed and her shoulders began to slump, Inuyasha called a halt. There was still some daylight left, but the ‘weak humans would be no good tomorrow if they didn’t get enough sleep,’ as he so eloquently put it. For half a heartbeat he feared Kagome was about to ‘osuwari’ him for that, but she swallowed the word and looked away uncomfortably. That was a little disconcerting to him; it was proof that she was still uncertain about the status of their relationship. Normally she would use the rosary when he made a thoughtless comment like that, to remind him not to be such an ass all the time. Some of the time he could admit that he deserved it.
Kagome went straight to bed after cooking up a light dinner. For once she joined Inuyasha in eating ramen, since the noodles and broth would be easy on her stomach and she didn’t feel up to chancing anything more substantial yet. The result was a very quiet campsite, gripped by a subdued sort of silence. Dusk turned to night, and barely a word was spoken. The humans and kitsune found ways to keep busy, but Inuyasha merely resumed his earlier brooding. The darkness seemed to bring out his more negative emotions, his deep-seated insecurities, and his mood soured quickly. Finally he could stand it no longer. He rose and stalked out of camp, to relieve himself and perhaps vent his frustrations on a few unfortunate trees along the way.
He left a trail of scratched bark and scarred trunks in his wake, but he felt no better for it. He was almost finished emptying his bladder when he sensed a presence approaching behind him, and stifled a snarl. Briefly he considered simply bolting, but that would be the cowardly way out. No doubt the bouzu just wanted to tease him a bit. Inuyasha would put up with it now that they were alone, within reason. If Miroku pushed him too far, he would regret it.
“Whaddya want, bouzu?” he demanded impatiently, fastening his hakama and turning to face the lecherous houshi.
“Hmmm,” Miroku considered, frowning in mock concentration. It was all an act, Inuyasha knew; the jackass had already come up with his first line long ago. Sometimes he hated being right.
“Well, first I suppose I should congratulate you,” he replied, with a tone that Inuyasha could almost believe was serious. “Our little Inuyasha has finally become a man.”
“Keh! I was already twice the man you’ll ever be!”
“Not in the strictest sense, I’m afraid. Lying with a woman is something of a rite of passage for boys.”
“Not for me it ain’t,” Inuyasha spat bitterly. “You’re a moron if you think any girl would want to lie with a hanyou.”
Miroku blinked, seemingly surprised by the dark turn in the conversation. His smile faded, to be replaced by an expression which was all sincerity and friendly concern. Now Inuyasha really wanted to run away. A ‘heart to heart’ with Miroku sounded even less appealing than being the butt of his perverted jokes.
“I must be a moron then,” Miroku said quietly. Inuyasha growled in annoyance as his meaning sunk in; he couldn’t believe the monk was making him explain what should be obvious!
“Kagome was drunk, you dumbass! She didn’t know what she was doing. She…probably thought I was someone else.”
Miroku shook his head and smiled wryly at this. “Inuyasha, your features are rather…unique. It would be difficult to confuse you with anyone else. Besides, you were just as drunk if not more so than she was. Did you imagine her to be someone else?” he asked, his voice raised slightly in genuine concern.
“No!” Inuyasha replied vehemently, sickened by the thought of using Kagome in such a way. “I mean, I don’t think so. I don’t really…remember what happened,” he finished shamefully.
“You don’t remember?” Miroku repeated. “Ah…that complicates things.”
“Tell me about it.”
“What do you remember?”
“I was still at the party, but then the next thing I can remember is waking up this morning next to Kagome.”
“And you’re absolutely certain the two of you…ah, of course, that sensitive nose of yours.”
Inuyasha, whose finger had been tapping said nose meaningfully, now moved the same hand to rub the back of his neck.
“We definitely ‘did it,’ bouzu. No freaking doubt about that.”
Miroku couldn’t resist. “Well, again, I’d like to offer my most heartfelt congratu—”
“Would you shut the fuck up already?!”
“Oh, lighten up, Inuyasha. I did not come out here merely to poke fun at you. I also wished to make sure that your head was in the right place. Clearly I was right to be concerned.”
“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means, my friend, that you are looking at this all wrong. What happened last night was clearly a mistake, but it is not something you should torture yourself over. Do you honestly believe that Kagome-sama will wake up tomorrow and be angry with you?”
“She should be.”
“That is her decision to make, is it not? I for one do not believe that she is upset for her own sake. I am sure she is simply worried about what this means for you and her, and how you feel about it.”
“Then she’s a moron, too!”
Inuyasha knew he was being confrontational, but he didn’t care. He could hear voices from the past, condemning him, denouncing him as unworthy of love and companionship. Why couldn’t the monk just give up and leave him alone?
Miroku sighed and put his head in his hand. “It would be wise if you did not repeat that in her presence.”
That sent Inuyasha over the edge. How could Miroku treat him like he was being the foolish one?!
“Dammit, bouzu! Don’t you fucking get it? I took her innocence! I can never give that back to her! She should hate me right now!”
Miroku gazed at him sadly, with a hint of pity. “Has Kagome-sama not given you so much already? Do you have any reason to doubt that she will regard her innocence as freely given as well?”
Inuyasha opened his mouth to retort and shut it just as swiftly. It was true, he realized; Kagome was incredibly generous. She had already given him everything he had ever asked of her, even those requests he never gave voice to. And somehow, she always forgave him no matter how he wronged her. Would this be any different?
Seeing that he was getting through to the hanyou, Miroku continued. “Look, Inuyasha. Kagome-sama…cares for you. Very much. She will not blame you for what happened, nor will it change the way she feels about you. She values your friendship too much to allow this to ruin it.”
Inuyasha closed his eyes in contemplation. He wanted to believe Miroku’s words, so badly. At various points in the day, he had almost believed them. But the doubts always returned, the haunting memories, the knowledge that he was unworthy of her friendship, no matter what anyone said. But Kagome didn’t see things that way; her view of the world was downright bizarre. Perhaps that was why she could accept a lowly hanyou as much as she did. He wanted to believe Miroku, to trust what he thought he knew about Kagome. But faith did not come easy for him, and still he wrestled with it.
“How can you be so sure?” he asked hopefully.
“Because I know Kagome-sama,” Miroku answered resolutely, without a trace of uncertainty. “And because ever since I have known the two of you, I have observed the growth of your relationship from the outside. Being in the middle of a relationship can be blinding, but watching from out here is often quite enlightening.”
His words were a soothing balm over Inuyasha’s heart, and the hanyou felt much of the tension ebb from his body. But there was one stubborn fear that still gripped him.
“But I don’t remember what happened. What if I…you know…”
Miroku could guess what the hanyou was thinking from the devastated expression on his face, and had to forcefully suppress the desire to whack him over the head with his staff. Inuyasha had a good heart, but sometimes he was so damn foolish.
“Inuyasha,” he began with forced patience, “would you take advantage of Kagome-sama in such a way if you were sober?” His only response was an appalled look from the hanyou. “Of course not. In my experience, alcohol does not make one do anything he would normally consider repugnant. Under normal circumstances, you would rather kill yourself than force Kagome-sama into anything against her will. Drinking too much alcohol would not magically turn you into a rapist.”
Inuyasha could hear the frustration in Miroku’s tone. He really thinks I’m a baka for asking that question. Maybe he was. The monk certainly had more experience with alcohol than he did. Perhaps it was okay to trust Miroku’s judgment on this one, until he was proven incorrect? Finally, Inuyasha relaxed, all of the air leaving his lungs in a huge sigh. He was emotionally drained, and more than a little embarrassed by his behavior. Not to mention grateful to Miroku, who had gone above and beyond the bounds of friendship to talk some sense into a stubborn hanyou.
“Besides,” the monk stated in an amused tone that had Inuyasha tensing all over again. “Kagome-sama was probably just as into the act as you were.”
As if hearing Miroku make that statement wasn’t shocking enough, he delivered it without any indication that he was joking. But he couldn’t possibly be serious…could he?
“K-Kagome’s not like that!”
“Like what? There is nothing wrong with sexual desire, Inuyasha. Kagome-sama may seem innocent, and in many ways she is. But she is also a rapidly maturing young woman. Trust me, at that age, she has had those kinds of urges before. Perhaps even concerning a certain handsome hanyou I know…”
“S-s-shut up! Don’t bullshit me!”
“Do I look like I am anything less than completely serious?”
“You’re gonna look black and blue in a second!”
That retort sounded lame even to Inuyasha’s ears, but Miroku let him off with a light chuckle. “Well, it is good to see you acting like your old self again.”
“Keh!”
With that, Inuyasha strode past Miroku back in the direction of camp, leaving the monk to hurry in his wake.
“Just one last piece of advice, Inuyasha.” The hanyou grunted but didn’t move to physically injure him, so Miroku continued. “Talk to her. I mean really talk to her. The two of you desperately need to clear the air.”
As daunting as that prospect was, Inuyasha knew he was right. The only way to know for sure how Kagome felt was to ask her. He gulped. At least he could put that off until tomorrow. What he couldn’t put off was the expression of gratitude he knew Miroku honestly deserved. So just before they returned to camp, he stopped and spoke softly over his shoulder, without turning around.
“Oi, Miroku.”
“Yes, Inuyasha?”
“Thanks.”
The monk chuckled. “Any time, my friend. Any time.”
A/N – I did some research (or rather, Splendentgoddess helpfully reminded me), and it turns out that Inuyasha is affected by alcohol in the manga. It’s during chapter 486, where Sango talks to that sage guy about fixing hiraikotsu. Inuyasha gets repeatedly dunked in jars of sake and gets pretty tipsy, even though he couldn’t have ingested that much of the stuff. The sake affects Shippou too, so evidently alcohol is the great equalizer between humans and youkai!
And someone asked about the length of this story. Hard for me to guess at this point, but I’m expecting maybe 20 chapters? Like Entrapment length, not Metamorphosis length.
Morning-After Anxiety
The first thing Kagome became aware of as she floundered back to consciousness was the rapid pulsing of her heart. Every beat reverberated through her cranium, like a giant amplifier blasting a bassline at 150 decibels. Her involuntary groan came out as a weak cough, a consequence of a parched throat. Her mind was trapped in a haze of pain and lethargy, and she struggled to get her bearings. Through fluttering eyes she glimpsed an unfamiliar wooden wall before she was forced to shut them again by the abnormally blinding light. She could gather that she was lying on a futon in an unfamiliar room, but anything beyond that was more than she could manage. That, and the disturbing queasiness of her stomach.
Some instinct or thread of decorum drove her to seek a more appropriate place to expel the vomit she knew was coming. She rolled into an unstable crouch, the resulting dizziness causing her belly to roil even more intensely. Half walking, half crawling, she stumbled through the doorway and leaned over the edge of the wooden platform she could just barely make out through slitted, teary eyes.
What followed was misery, pure and simple. Where often times, expelling whatever was creating a disturbance in the stomach would bring some relief, by the time Kagome was finished she felt even more terrible than when she had started. Not only was her throat dry, but now it stung fiercely as well. She still could not open her eyes more than a fraction, lest her retinas set to burning. And her stomach was still rumbling as well; she had a feeling that she was not yet finished with her gastric exhumation. She certainly was not done with headache and soreness in seemingly every major muscle in her entire body.
The one thing that made this small eternity of torment bearable occurred during, when a familiar item of cloth was draped over her shoulders. Even in her cloudy mental state, she recognized Inuyasha’s haori when she felt it. His action did serve to reveal that she was naked, but that only caused her to be doubly grateful for his consideration. The hesitant yet comforting stroke of his hand as it rubbed her back was also appreciated. His presence put her at some level of ease; she could at least know that she was safe, except from whatever curse was wracking her body.
His hand left her back when she stopped vomiting, but she could still sense his presence behind her. When she felt up to it, she sat back on her heels and leaned bonelessly into him. He stiffened, but made no move to withdraw. He also did not put his arm around her shoulder, as she had hoped that he would. But she would content herself with the contact he permitted, glad that he was here with her in her time of suffering. Here, with him, she could allow her mind to wander and try to figure out how she had ended up in this sorry state.
She remembered sake—far too much sake, apparently. Their host had been unusually gracious with his drink and gold, which he had used to bring together a celebration the likes of which Kagome had never seen in the feudal era before. This was probably due to a combination of many factors, among them the rescue of his only child whom he doted on constantly, the fact that he was by nature a drinker and a ‘partier’ by the standards of the time, and the simple fact that he could afford it. She had thought it too rude to refuse the invitation, especially when Miroku was already inside enjoying himself. She had also seen the irritated look on Sango’s face and hoped, perhaps naively, that Miroku would show some restraint in the taijiya’s presence. She knew Sango secretly liked the lecherous houshi. How the evening had gone for either of them, Kagome could not say. She could not even remember how her evening had ended.
What she did know, was that she had dragged Inuyasha into the party with a promise that they could stay a little while and then go to bed. Shippou and Kirara had done just that moments before, since it had already been fairly late. They were the smart ones. The dummies, i.e. the mature adults of the group, joined the celebration and were soon swept up by the festive atmosphere. Even Kagome, whose tongue had never touched a drop of alcohol in her life, found herself unable to resist that first toast. She groaned as she remembered her words, one of those incredibly foolish phrases which one looks back on later with contempt and dismay. ‘One little drink’ had indeed not hurt, but the unknown quantity of alcohol she had consumed later certainly did.
But why had she drunk so much in the first place? Maybe it was because Inuyasha was pounding back sake like an alcoholic after a long dry spell. Miroku and Sango were off doing their own thing, and she had been stuck carrying on an unwanted conversation with some of their host’s male relatives, who were clearly interested in her uncommon looks and strange clothing. It was a difficult task trying to be polite enough not to offend, but not too polite to give any of them the idea that they had any chance whatsoever of getting ‘lucky’ with her tonight. Adding to her stress, she had to worry about Inuyasha going into a jealous fit and causing a scene. That concern at least was unwarranted; the hanyou had quickly become so wasted that he would not have noticed if she had hopped into some stranger’s lap shouting ‘take me!’
Eventually her male suitors got the message and wandered off to find more enjoyable company. So Kagome was left alone, growing more annoyed by the second. Why should she be the only one at the party having no fun at all? What was she, Inuyasha’s personal chaperone? Her rising temper caused her to do something foolish. All at once she downed a whole cup of sake, sidled up to one of the handsome gentlemen she had talked to previously, and started a whole new conversation. This one was decidedly more ‘polite’ than before, and as she became more and more inebriated, he probably thought he had a very good chance of getting laid.
Kagome gasped and sat up straight, an act which caused her head to swim and the bile to rise in the back of her throat. Thankfully she was able to keep it down this time. But of far greater concern was what she may or may not have done with any number of the interested males at the party. Dreading what the action might reveal, she shifted her weight slightly from one thigh to another. To her infinite dismay, there was a definite discomfort down there, unlike the general muscle soreness gripping the rest of her body, which was almost akin to the early onset of the flu. The ache between her legs, on the other hand, was more localized, a sharp pain from unused muscles and untouched parts of her body which had dulled over time. That, and the disquieting stickiness of her inner thighs, left no doubt as to exactly what had occurred last night.
Tears sprung to her eyes, and she struggled to avoid collapsing into a pitiful ball of sobs. That would come later, when she was alone in her room back home. She did not want to show such weakness in front of Inuyasha; she was sure he already felt terrible for allowing this to happen to her. It would be easy to blame him and their other friends for not staying with her at the party, or stopping her from getting so drunk. But she wouldn’t do that either; in the end, this was her fault. She had behaved incredibly irresponsibly, and this was her punishment.
It seemed a harsh penalty. She felt empty inside, like someone had stolen something from her, something she could never get back. There was something missing now, a part of her which she had valued, how much she never realized until it was torn away from her. Maybe it was the knowledge that she was a virgin, that she had never caved to peer pressure and was saving herself for love. Maybe it was her private fantasies that one day she would give her purity to the man sitting right behind her. That was probably what hurt the most. Even if her wildest dreams came true, and she and Inuyasha married and raised a family together, she would never be able to give him her most cherished gift, the one the Kami gave her as a woman. She didn’t think Inuyasha was the kind of guy to care about such a thing, not really, but both of them would always know that she in her foolishness had deprived them of a wonderful experience. Was it a blessing or a curse that she did not remember the unfortunate event? She couldn’t even remember who the lucky suitor might have been; her memories of the evening stopped with her still at the party, tipping back the last dregs of a jug of sake.
For the sake of her lover—she blanched at that word—she hoped that Inuyasha was unable to either remember his identity or figure it out through scent. Though she felt violated, the man had done nothing wrong by the standards of the time. She could not hold him to the consent laws of the modern era; that wasn’t part of his moral code and it would be unfair to enforce it against him. Especially when Inuyasha’s brand of ‘justice’ would probably involve some sort of dismemberment, most likely of the body part which had violated her the most.
She spared a glance over her shoulder to gauge Inuyasha’s mood, and was surprised at what she saw. She had been hoping not to have to ‘osuwari’ him to save the life of her lover—there was that awful word again—but that appeared to be a baseless concern. Inuyasha’s head was turned away, his eyes gazing forlornly at the ground. His countenance spoke of heavy remorse and a healthy amount of self-loathing, but was astonishingly lacking in anger or desire to maim. Did he feel so guilty himself that he was letting her lov—consort off the hook? That did not sound like him at all. The Inuyasha she knew let his guilt turn into rage, fueling him to a frenzy which was woe to anyone else who had wronged her. So why wasn’t he contemplating the most gruesome way to kill the man who had taken her virginity last night?
She could admit that she was a little irritated by his lack of spirit. Perhaps it was shallow, but she wanted him to be pissed off. She wanted fury to be exuding from every pore in his body, even though she would not let him act on it. She almost wanted to have to use the ‘osuwari’ command to keep him in check. At least that meant he cared. This sad, whipped puppy Inuyasha was disconcerting, like he didn’t give a damn about who she slept with. Like he was only remorseful because her hangover was so bad. She was just about give voice to her displeasure when another idea occurred to her. She had woken up alone on the futon, but Inuyasha had been right there with her. So either he had already left her consort decaying in a pool of his own blood, or…
She didn’t think it was possible, but her mouth became even drier. Her stomach roiled fiercely once more, bubbling with conflicting emotions. She found herself praying with her heart that the answer to her next question was ‘yes,’ and with her rational mind that it was ‘no.’
“Inuyasha,” she croaked. His eyes rose to meet hers for the first time, and she gulped at the intensity of his gaze. “Did we…did we…”
She couldn’t finish. But fortunately, or unfortunately, he seemed to understand. Reluctantly, he nodded.
Kagome leaned forward and heaved what was left of her stomach onto the grass.
* * *
Inuyasha trudged along at the rear of the group, staring at the dirt road in front of him. He did not feel up to assuming his normal role as leader of the pack, physically or emotionally. His hangover was still affecting him, though thankfully its severity had subsided fairly quickly since the morning. He was still uncomfortable in his own skin, with a strong headache as the primary culprit, but at least he was not too incapacitated to walk or fight if need be. The weight of his conscience, however, had only grown worse as the day progressed. He cringed as he recalled the events of the morning. The other four members of the group had arrived just as Kagome finished retching for the second time and collapsed into a miserable ball. Sango and Miroku took one look at them and instantly knew what had happened. If their state of dress wasn’t indication enough—Inuyasha’s kosode was hanging open at the front and Kagome was still clad in only his haori—the look on the hanyou’s face told them everything they needed to know. Fortunately, neither had said anything, either in reproach or teasing. Both would come later, Inuyasha was sure. But Kagome’s condition had at least put those inevitable conversations on hold. As for Miroku and Sango, both were slightly pale and appeared a little worse for wear, but otherwise they seemed normal. Inuyasha didn’t know if anything had happened between or to either of them, and he didn’t ask. He had more pressing concerns at the moment.
It absolutely killed him that there was nothing he could do for Kagome. Even when he had run to the village well and brought her water, she had drunk it too fast and wound up puking again. Afterwards they had forced her to drink more, over her protests, and she had managed to keep a little down. He was sure she was still quite dehydrated though. So was he, for that matter. But he was hanyou, and could handle it. Humans were so fragile, and dehydration could quickly become a big problem for them. He would have to be on high alert to make sure Kagome’s hangover didn’t develop into something worse.
She was sleeping fitfully now, which was probably the best thing for her. Sango had helped her clean up a bit and change into a fresh set of pajamas. They had wanted to let her rest at the village for the day, but Kagome was adamant that they leave immediately. The thought of remaining there for another second seemed repugnant to her. As they tried to persuade her and her temper rose, she began to border on incoherency, and none of them wished to push her over something so small. So they agreed to leave on the condition that Kagome be carried. Everyone expected her to ride on Kirara, including Inuyasha. So he was understandably shocked when Kagome instead looked to him and asked if he would carry her. She probably felt so terrible that she didn’t care that the act of riding on his back should be incredibly awkward right now, for both of them.
Somehow it wasn’t, at least for him. Even now, having her nestled against his back, her thighs in his hands, felt amazingly natural. He would have to savor the sensation of having her so close, because this was probably the last time it would ever happen. Once she recovered from her hangover, she would likely never permit this level of physical proximity ever again. And he wouldn’t blame her. He was a dirtbag, pure and simple. He deserved whatever punishment she chose to mete out, and more. Not only had he failed to protect her from drinking herself ill, but he had violated her trust and taken her innocence. ‘Taken’ wasn’t even a strong enough word for what he had done; he had essentially stolen her virginity like a thief in the night. And if he hadn’t raped her while she was passed out, then he had almost certainly pressured her into unwanted sex when she was too drunk to refuse.
That was a very dismal way of looking at things, of course. He hoped that making such assumptions would prove rash in the end. In the best case scenario, his and Kagome’s tryst had been an accident in the purest sense of the word, with no greater portion of fault to either side. He prayed that the truth was close to that extreme, rather than the opposite one. If his worst fears turned out to be valid…he didn’t know what he would do. But perhaps his lack of memory was simply causing him to panic and conjure irrational thoughts. He had never believed himself capable of taking advantage of someone like that. Could alcohol magically make a person behave in such a way if he had no predispositions toward such behavior while sober? He knew the mystery surrounding the event was getting to him; he could not help but consider the possibility that deep down he was the monster everyone assumed him to be. Everyone before Kagome, that is. The beautiful girl with a bigger heart than anyone he had ever met. The pure soul he had spoiled with his drunken lust.
There was his guilty conscience running away with him again. It really would make more sense to wait and see how Kagome felt about all of this before condemning himself. But couldn’t help it! His imagination would not calm until he had talked to her. He was probably reading too much into the horrified expression on her face as she realized what they had done. Did that look stem from losing her virginity in the first place, losing it to him, or just because she was about to be sick again? Afterwards, fatigue had been the primary emotion he could pick up from her. She had not seemed angry, per se, just exhausted. And despite the fact that she knew what had happened, she had still asked him to carry her. That had to mean something, right?
He sincerely hoped so. He didn’t want this to be the last time he held her, her body nestled against his own creating the feeling in his heart that all was right with the world. In the quiet moments they periodically shared, he could forget about Naraku, the Shikon no Tama, and his promises to Kikyou. He could forget everything except Kagome, her face, her scent, and the knowledge that her desire to be there with him was as strong as his own to have her close. As he had told her before, he needed her by his side. ‘By his side,’ not merely meaning a companion on their mission, but someone who would literally stand beside him. Someone who would take on any challenge with him, support him physically and spiritually, and place more faith and trust in him than he could place in himself. And he needed the casual physical contact, the seemingly innocuous unnecessary touching that backed up her words—that she did not care if he was a hanyou, that she liked him for who he was. He trusted Kagome when she told him that, and would always keep those words close to his heart. But he had been living so long with the beliefs that had been beaten into him as a child—at times literally—that he sometimes found himself doubting the words anyway. Her touch always reminded him that Kagome was special in this regard; her heart reflected exactly what she said. No one would allow a hanyou to carry her, or embrace him out of relief, or cry for him, or do any of the hundred other things which were uniquely ‘Kagome,’ unless she truly and completely accepted him for who he was.
If he lost that, if he lost what made her Kagome…he would lose the best part of himself.
If there was one thing to regret about last night, this was it. He was not remorseful for his own sake; he did not feel like he had lost anything by having his first sexual experience be with Kagome. Who else should he have given his virginity to? Kikyou? Having sex with his former love had never been an immediate possibility. Fifty years ago, he had known better than to even entertain those thoughts until they were both human and wed. And now, even if she could physically have intercourse in her current body, she would still never lower herself to lying with a hanyou. Since he wasn’t about to become human for her now, the odds of him and Kikyou ever having sex were miniscule, whether he went to hell with her or not. He could not say he was disappointed. He would have loved her in every sense of the word had they been married, but even back then he had never really viewed Kikyou as a potential sexual partner. He had not been allowed to, not by the world around them, and not by Kikyou herself.
Beyond all that, what truly shocked him was that he felt no remorse for Kikyou’s sake. Rationally, even though he and Kikyou were never intimate, he was promised to her and by all rights he should feel guilty for betraying her with Kagome. Only it didn’t feel like betrayal. The trust between them had already been broken, in part by Kikyou’s own actions both before and after her resurrection. Or perhaps it had never been strong to begin with.
So ultimately, his greatest fear—aside from being revealed as a rapist bastard—was not how Kikyou would react if she ever found out about last night. It was that he would lose Kagome, his Kagome, his best friend, closest companion and greatest opponent all wrapped into one. Their relationship would surely change after this; how could it not? But if she drifted away from him, if she blamed him for this, if she realized that a filthy hanyou with nothing to his name but a rusty sword and the clothes on his back was unworthy of her affections after all… If she became like Kikyou…
He shuddered, causing the girl on his back to stir slightly. He tightened his grip on her thighs as she settled back down, drawing courage from the way she muttered his name in slumber. He resolved to do everything in his power to make sure he and Kagome did not drift apart. He would fight for her, against her if needed. If he had to get down on his hands and knees and beg for forgiveness, he would damn well do it. And if things were awkward between them for a time, that would be no less than he expected. Slowly but surely, however, things would go back to close to the way they were before that fateful night. Perhaps they would even be better.
Now he was being overly optimistic, but it was much more pleasant than his earlier pessimism. He spent most of the morning and much of the afternoon brooding in silence, arguing with himself in this back-and-forth fashion. Finally, as the sun was perched about halfway between its apex and its setting place in the western skyline, Kagome lifted her head off his shoulder and groaned. Without turning around, he could picture her holding her head with a pained grimace marring her features. His ears swiftly lowered in renewed guilt.
“Kagome!” Shippou yelled as he came barreling toward them, the first of their companions to realize she was awake thanks to his youkai hearing. Kagome cringed at the volume of his shout, and Inuyasha would have bopped him if it didn’t mean dislodging his fragile cargo. Shippou clambered up and perched atop his shoulder, blissfully unaware of the hanyou’s ire, but thankfully he did keep his voice down from then on.
“Are you okay, Kagome?”
“A little better, Shippou-chan,” Kagome responded after taking a few moments to assess her condition. “I think I might be done throwing up at least.”
Inuyasha was obviously relieved to hear this; getting covered in Kagome’s vomit was no less than he deserved, but he still hoped to avoid it if he could. She still sounded pretty miserable though. He imagined her head was throbbing fiercely, and he knew she was dehydrated and possibly malnourished. The last thing she had eaten that had actually stayed down had been a rather early dinner last night. Perhaps it was time to try to get her to munch on something, just to keep her strength up. She had to drink fluids; there was no arguing that. He would force her to drink even if she used ‘osuwari’ a hundred times. Hopefully that could be avoided too. He was contemplating the best way to approach this delicate issue when the conversation turned in an unfortunate direction.
“You were asleep for a long time, Kagome,” Shippou told her worriedly. “I thought you were really getting sick.”
“I don’t think so, Shippou-chan. This is just me recovering from all of that cursed alcohol. Plus, I guess I didn’t get very much sleep last night.”
Inuyasha stiffened and felt Kagome do the same. Both immediately blushed hotly, realizing how that comment could be taken by one so inclined. And unfortunately, they did know someone so inclined. Apparently now that Kagome wasn’t in such bad shape, she and Inuyasha were ripe for some fully-justified teasing. But an unexpected savior came to their rescue, with a well-timed elbow under the ribs. Miroku put on a sheepish grin and shrugged. He could afford to bide his time. Sango favored both of them with a look that clearly said ‘you’re welcome’ and changed the subject.
“Do you think you could eat something, Kagome-chan? You might feel better after you get some food in your stomach.”
Much to Inuyasha’s surprise, Kagome agreed easily. They paused in their trek long enough for her to down half a bottle of water and munch on a few crackers from her bag. Once she was finished, Inuyasha knelt down for her to mount up again, but she expressed a desire to ‘stretch her legs.’ The hanyou shrugged nonchalantly to cover his concern, hoping that the only reason for this change of heart was because Kagome felt guilty for making Miroku and Sango take turns toting her bag around. When she went to pick it up, however, he quickly snatched it from her grasp and slung if over his own shoulder. The shy smile she favored him with had him flushing all over again, and he swiftly turned away from her. He was grateful for the embarrassment, however; that smile had eased the fears of rejection which had arisen after she turned down his offer to carry her.
A few minutes later, Inuyasha found himself walking at the rear of the group with Miroku, who had drifted back to join him. Kagome and Sango strode side by side ahead of them, Shippou and Kirara perched atop their respective shoulders. Inuyasha had taken up the rear position so he could keep an eye on Kagome and make sure she wasn’t wobbly on her feet, but he suspected that the bouzu had less honorable motives. An intuition confirmed when the monk opened his mouth.
“A lovely sight, is it not?” he asked quietly, grinning cheerfully with just a hint of lechery.
Inuyasha rolled his eyes. He was not in the mood for this, as the bouzu found out when he received another elbow under the ribs for his trouble. After that, Miroku left him alone. This was not to say that Inuyasha disputed the man’s point—Kagome and Sango walking in front of them was a rather lovely sight. He would die before he admitted that aloud though. This of course did not stop him from admiring the comely vision in passing. Not staring, certainly not staring. Was it a blessing or a curse that he could not remember what Kagome looked like during carnal acts? It was not as though he had failed to appreciate how pleasing to the eye her lithe form and short skirt were before today, but now his attraction seemed stronger somehow. Another change that should come as no surprise, he supposed. There was no way in hell he was going to start behaving like the bouzu, so he figured it was nothing to worry about.
A couple hours later, as Kagome’s pace slowed and her shoulders began to slump, Inuyasha called a halt. There was still some daylight left, but the ‘weak humans would be no good tomorrow if they didn’t get enough sleep,’ as he so eloquently put it. For half a heartbeat he feared Kagome was about to ‘osuwari’ him for that, but she swallowed the word and looked away uncomfortably. That was a little disconcerting to him; it was proof that she was still uncertain about the status of their relationship. Normally she would use the rosary when he made a thoughtless comment like that, to remind him not to be such an ass all the time. Some of the time he could admit that he deserved it.
Kagome went straight to bed after cooking up a light dinner. For once she joined Inuyasha in eating ramen, since the noodles and broth would be easy on her stomach and she didn’t feel up to chancing anything more substantial yet. The result was a very quiet campsite, gripped by a subdued sort of silence. Dusk turned to night, and barely a word was spoken. The humans and kitsune found ways to keep busy, but Inuyasha merely resumed his earlier brooding. The darkness seemed to bring out his more negative emotions, his deep-seated insecurities, and his mood soured quickly. Finally he could stand it no longer. He rose and stalked out of camp, to relieve himself and perhaps vent his frustrations on a few unfortunate trees along the way.
He left a trail of scratched bark and scarred trunks in his wake, but he felt no better for it. He was almost finished emptying his bladder when he sensed a presence approaching behind him, and stifled a snarl. Briefly he considered simply bolting, but that would be the cowardly way out. No doubt the bouzu just wanted to tease him a bit. Inuyasha would put up with it now that they were alone, within reason. If Miroku pushed him too far, he would regret it.
“Whaddya want, bouzu?” he demanded impatiently, fastening his hakama and turning to face the lecherous houshi.
“Hmmm,” Miroku considered, frowning in mock concentration. It was all an act, Inuyasha knew; the jackass had already come up with his first line long ago. Sometimes he hated being right.
“Well, first I suppose I should congratulate you,” he replied, with a tone that Inuyasha could almost believe was serious. “Our little Inuyasha has finally become a man.”
“Keh! I was already twice the man you’ll ever be!”
“Not in the strictest sense, I’m afraid. Lying with a woman is something of a rite of passage for boys.”
“Not for me it ain’t,” Inuyasha spat bitterly. “You’re a moron if you think any girl would want to lie with a hanyou.”
Miroku blinked, seemingly surprised by the dark turn in the conversation. His smile faded, to be replaced by an expression which was all sincerity and friendly concern. Now Inuyasha really wanted to run away. A ‘heart to heart’ with Miroku sounded even less appealing than being the butt of his perverted jokes.
“I must be a moron then,” Miroku said quietly. Inuyasha growled in annoyance as his meaning sunk in; he couldn’t believe the monk was making him explain what should be obvious!
“Kagome was drunk, you dumbass! She didn’t know what she was doing. She…probably thought I was someone else.”
Miroku shook his head and smiled wryly at this. “Inuyasha, your features are rather…unique. It would be difficult to confuse you with anyone else. Besides, you were just as drunk if not more so than she was. Did you imagine her to be someone else?” he asked, his voice raised slightly in genuine concern.
“No!” Inuyasha replied vehemently, sickened by the thought of using Kagome in such a way. “I mean, I don’t think so. I don’t really…remember what happened,” he finished shamefully.
“You don’t remember?” Miroku repeated. “Ah…that complicates things.”
“Tell me about it.”
“What do you remember?”
“I was still at the party, but then the next thing I can remember is waking up this morning next to Kagome.”
“And you’re absolutely certain the two of you…ah, of course, that sensitive nose of yours.”
Inuyasha, whose finger had been tapping said nose meaningfully, now moved the same hand to rub the back of his neck.
“We definitely ‘did it,’ bouzu. No freaking doubt about that.”
Miroku couldn’t resist. “Well, again, I’d like to offer my most heartfelt congratu—”
“Would you shut the fuck up already?!”
“Oh, lighten up, Inuyasha. I did not come out here merely to poke fun at you. I also wished to make sure that your head was in the right place. Clearly I was right to be concerned.”
“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means, my friend, that you are looking at this all wrong. What happened last night was clearly a mistake, but it is not something you should torture yourself over. Do you honestly believe that Kagome-sama will wake up tomorrow and be angry with you?”
“She should be.”
“That is her decision to make, is it not? I for one do not believe that she is upset for her own sake. I am sure she is simply worried about what this means for you and her, and how you feel about it.”
“Then she’s a moron, too!”
Inuyasha knew he was being confrontational, but he didn’t care. He could hear voices from the past, condemning him, denouncing him as unworthy of love and companionship. Why couldn’t the monk just give up and leave him alone?
Miroku sighed and put his head in his hand. “It would be wise if you did not repeat that in her presence.”
That sent Inuyasha over the edge. How could Miroku treat him like he was being the foolish one?!
“Dammit, bouzu! Don’t you fucking get it? I took her innocence! I can never give that back to her! She should hate me right now!”
Miroku gazed at him sadly, with a hint of pity. “Has Kagome-sama not given you so much already? Do you have any reason to doubt that she will regard her innocence as freely given as well?”
Inuyasha opened his mouth to retort and shut it just as swiftly. It was true, he realized; Kagome was incredibly generous. She had already given him everything he had ever asked of her, even those requests he never gave voice to. And somehow, she always forgave him no matter how he wronged her. Would this be any different?
Seeing that he was getting through to the hanyou, Miroku continued. “Look, Inuyasha. Kagome-sama…cares for you. Very much. She will not blame you for what happened, nor will it change the way she feels about you. She values your friendship too much to allow this to ruin it.”
Inuyasha closed his eyes in contemplation. He wanted to believe Miroku’s words, so badly. At various points in the day, he had almost believed them. But the doubts always returned, the haunting memories, the knowledge that he was unworthy of her friendship, no matter what anyone said. But Kagome didn’t see things that way; her view of the world was downright bizarre. Perhaps that was why she could accept a lowly hanyou as much as she did. He wanted to believe Miroku, to trust what he thought he knew about Kagome. But faith did not come easy for him, and still he wrestled with it.
“How can you be so sure?” he asked hopefully.
“Because I know Kagome-sama,” Miroku answered resolutely, without a trace of uncertainty. “And because ever since I have known the two of you, I have observed the growth of your relationship from the outside. Being in the middle of a relationship can be blinding, but watching from out here is often quite enlightening.”
His words were a soothing balm over Inuyasha’s heart, and the hanyou felt much of the tension ebb from his body. But there was one stubborn fear that still gripped him.
“But I don’t remember what happened. What if I…you know…”
Miroku could guess what the hanyou was thinking from the devastated expression on his face, and had to forcefully suppress the desire to whack him over the head with his staff. Inuyasha had a good heart, but sometimes he was so damn foolish.
“Inuyasha,” he began with forced patience, “would you take advantage of Kagome-sama in such a way if you were sober?” His only response was an appalled look from the hanyou. “Of course not. In my experience, alcohol does not make one do anything he would normally consider repugnant. Under normal circumstances, you would rather kill yourself than force Kagome-sama into anything against her will. Drinking too much alcohol would not magically turn you into a rapist.”
Inuyasha could hear the frustration in Miroku’s tone. He really thinks I’m a baka for asking that question. Maybe he was. The monk certainly had more experience with alcohol than he did. Perhaps it was okay to trust Miroku’s judgment on this one, until he was proven incorrect? Finally, Inuyasha relaxed, all of the air leaving his lungs in a huge sigh. He was emotionally drained, and more than a little embarrassed by his behavior. Not to mention grateful to Miroku, who had gone above and beyond the bounds of friendship to talk some sense into a stubborn hanyou.
“Besides,” the monk stated in an amused tone that had Inuyasha tensing all over again. “Kagome-sama was probably just as into the act as you were.”
As if hearing Miroku make that statement wasn’t shocking enough, he delivered it without any indication that he was joking. But he couldn’t possibly be serious…could he?
“K-Kagome’s not like that!”
“Like what? There is nothing wrong with sexual desire, Inuyasha. Kagome-sama may seem innocent, and in many ways she is. But she is also a rapidly maturing young woman. Trust me, at that age, she has had those kinds of urges before. Perhaps even concerning a certain handsome hanyou I know…”
“S-s-shut up! Don’t bullshit me!”
“Do I look like I am anything less than completely serious?”
“You’re gonna look black and blue in a second!”
That retort sounded lame even to Inuyasha’s ears, but Miroku let him off with a light chuckle. “Well, it is good to see you acting like your old self again.”
“Keh!”
With that, Inuyasha strode past Miroku back in the direction of camp, leaving the monk to hurry in his wake.
“Just one last piece of advice, Inuyasha.” The hanyou grunted but didn’t move to physically injure him, so Miroku continued. “Talk to her. I mean really talk to her. The two of you desperately need to clear the air.”
As daunting as that prospect was, Inuyasha knew he was right. The only way to know for sure how Kagome felt was to ask her. He gulped. At least he could put that off until tomorrow. What he couldn’t put off was the expression of gratitude he knew Miroku honestly deserved. So just before they returned to camp, he stopped and spoke softly over his shoulder, without turning around.
“Oi, Miroku.”
“Yes, Inuyasha?”
“Thanks.”
The monk chuckled. “Any time, my friend. Any time.”