InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Sachi ❯ Blackout ( Chapter 12 )

I disclaim InuYasha and all his friends. Rumiko Takahashi has him all, and I don’t really have him tied up under my bed. Seriously. Girl Scout’s honor.

Please just enjoy my offering of adoration for all that it’s worth.

Psst: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!

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CHAPTER 12

The water stopped that morning. Again.

The sharp edge of the cabinet dug into the small of his back and InuYasha shifted uncomfortably, grumbling and swearing as he attempted to unscrew one pipe from another in the twisted confusion of PVC and metal underneath the sink. It just had to be the damn pipes, didn’t it? He wasn’t a fucking plumber, but it seemed the only thing he did these days was mess with pipes and the water that ran through them -- or didn’t, as was the problem that usually took up his time.

He’d have preferred to deal with the wiring. Their first year here, he’d done almost nothing but screw around with lights and electricity that hadn’t wanted to work right within the Sachi’s decades-old walls. Five years later -- and more replaced wires, internal connectors, and near fatal electrical bungles than he would ever own up to -- at least he felt comfortable with that problem. It figured the old place would decide to throw something new at him after all this time.

Today’s problem area was the kitchen. Kagome and Kaede hadn’t even finished the morning dishes before the water pressure had decided to drizzle down to almost nothing. Which meant he’d had to abandon his roof-repairing job (they had a leak somewhere near one of the storage rooms), because running water took precedence. So he’d grabbed his tools and spread out in the kitchen with that damn plumbing book. And here he was, early afternoon, a good portion of his day wasted, and he still hadn’t gotten anywhere with the fucking pipes.

He grimaced as the wrench in his hand scraped a bone-wrinkling screech against the metal. A fine curl of shaving hit his nose, and he found himself staring at a groove tracked beneath the wrench, and the pipe unmoved. He swore again, louder this time, and beat back the urge to just break the fucking thing in half.

Damn rusty old bastard of a house. Fucking outdated construction.

As if he didn’t have enough to deal with these days. With the suffocating atmosphere distracting him at every turn lately, he hadn’t been very successful at concentrating on anything anyway.

His teeth ground together and he glared at the pipe.

Kagome was displeased. No, she was downright pissed -- at him -- and had been for the past two days. She hadn’t said more than two words to him since the night he’d bolted from her room, and the few times she had, it was with a chill that made the outside temperatures at night seem warm. Unfortunately, it wasn’t just him she’d aimed at; she was taking her displeasure out on anyone who came near her. Meal-times had become strained, the staff in general uncomfortable, and the light, airy sense of joy within the Sachi had darkened to a stuffy, unpleasant mood that permeated the very walls.

Miroku and Shippou had figured out it was his fault, though he seriously doubted they knew why. They kept sending him dirty looks that rivaled Kagome’s cold food and infuriated tone. Kaede, that old bitch, didn’t seem to have an opinion about the current situation beyond the amusement that warmed her face every time Kagome gave him the cold shoulder. The monk and the kit kept trying to placate her, but suave words and cheerfully demonstrated tricks didn’t seem to help her mood any. They even kept trying to force him into the same room with her -- as if that would miraculously cure whatever had gone wrong -- but he was damned if he was going to willingly subject himself to Kagome’s displeasure.

That was why, when Kagome had first knocked on his door this morning and stiffly informed him of their problem in the kitchen, he hadn’t really believed her; he’d thought it was another one of those schemers’ tricks and balked. That had gone over well in appeasing her frosty demeanor.

When he’d finally figured out that the emergency was real and joined her in the kitchen, her reaction to his presence had been filled with simmering emotion -- none of it the good kind. She’d finished what chores she could do in a flurry of banging dishes and slamming cabinet doors before she’d abandoned him to endure his task alone.

At least she was gone now, not that it was doing him any good when he couldn’t get his mind off her. Off the way she’d been acting around him. Off the way it made him feel.

He scowled and banged at metal in frustration, this time hoping to break it. At least broken pipes meant another trip back into town. Breaking the damn things meant getting out of this fucking atmosphere.

Everyone acted as if he didn’t care, as if it didn’t affect him at all whenever she pretended he didn’t exist even though he was in the same damn room with her. That it didn’t bug the hell out of him when she stiffened and clammed up whenever he came within visual distance. That he didn’t find himself cocking an ear for her footsteps in the hall, or wishing she’d show up unexpectedly at random moments during the day. Everyone thought he didn’t care that she was avoiding him, and they felt perfectly justified in heaping loads of blame on his shoulders.

He was fucking miserable. Wasn’t that enough?

He didn’t like it that she was mad at him -- in fact, he hated it, and he’d been living with that hate since the morning after his disastrous visit to her room, when she wouldn’t even look at him over the breakfast table. What an uncomfortable revelation that had been: he’d let himself grow attached to her cheerful smile and annoyingly chirpy manner without even realizing it. Now that he was being deprived of it, he was unhappier than he cared to admit even to himself. He wanted her to smile again; he wanted to pick at her temper just to see if he could get her eyes to spark; he wanted her to look at him as if he could do anything she asked him to do. He wanted things to go back to the way they had been before he’d fucked up.

If Miroku found out, he’d never hear the end of it. He glared, sightless and unmoving, at the recalcitrant piping above his face.

It was his own damn fault. If he hadn’t still been half-asleep, he never would have gone so near her. If he hadn’t been so distracted, he never would have touched her. If he wasn’t a complete idiot, he never would have kissed her. Tasted her. But he had been and was all of those things, and now he was paying for it with his own special kind of hell -- because not only was his life miserable now, but he wanted to do it again. So damn bad that he ached when he thought about it.

“All right, what did you do?”

InuYasha gave a start as Miroku’s annoyed voice echoed through the kitchen, unsure if he was irritated more by the fact that he hadn’t noticed the other man’s approach, or the by the brusqueness of his friend’s tone as he asked the question. Not liking either possibility, he simply scowled and continued what he was doing. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“What did you do to Kagome?”

His scowl blackened, and his fingers tightened around the wrench. “What makes you think I did anything to her?”

Miroku poked at him with his foot, sounding positively unfriendly. “She’s been glaring death at you for two days, that’s why. And none of the rest of us did anything that might have offended her. I want to know what she’s angry about so that we can fix it. Kagome’s upset has been very unpleasant for everyone.”

His lip curled. “I didn’t do anything.” Nothing that’s any of your business, anyway. “Maybe the bitch just gets angry for no reason.”

“I doubt it. Her temperament isn’t that similar to yours.”

That deserved nothing but the scoff he gave it as he returned his attention to the pipe in front of him.

“Did you kiss her?”

Some part of his brain tried to warn him not to react to that, but the rest of him didn’t get the message until it was too late. His head snapped up, his attention flying completely from what he was doing. “WHAT?!” The wrench in his hand slipped from the piping, and the heavy tool smacked into his bracing hand. He cursed viciously and shook the abused fingers.

Miroku eyed him without pity. “If you kissed her without her permission--”

He nearly choked on his pain, shooting to his feet. “Hey! She kissed me!”

Miroku’s face took on a look of pure skepticism. “Are you telling me you didn’t want her to?” He paused. “Because I have to say, lying isn’t really your strongest skill.”

“Keh!” Far too dangerous a question for him to respond in any other way.

“Didn’t you…. Are you trying to tell me that you didn’t kiss her back? Because once again, I’d have to say that --”

“Of course I did, moron! That’s not why she’s so --” He clamped his jaw shut with a click of his teeth, silently berating himself for falling into the trap so easily. Blood rushed through his head.

Satisfaction swept across Miroku’s features. “Well then, since you both obviously wanted what happened…. What did you do to make her angry?”

His teeth clenched. “I took it back.”

His words hung in the air for a few seconds while Miroku absorbed them. Then his violet eyes widened and his brows shot up to meet his hair. “You took it back?” He blinked a few times, and then, “You took back the fact that you kissed her?”

InuYasha sighed, flexing his hand to stretch the soreness. “It’s not a good idea. She’s --”

WHAP!

He stopped more out of shock than pain, and rubbed at the sore spot on the back of his head; Miroku was rarely violent. He glared at the monk’s fist. “What the hell did you --?”

“You are such a moron when it comes to women; it amazes me you’re not still a virgin.” Miroku’s irritation sat even plainer on his face than it did in his voice. “Serial monogamist my ass.”

“Wha --”

“You don’t ever take a kiss back from a woman. You get her to take it back if you absolutely must, but you never go back on it -- especially not if she cooks your food!” He blew out a breath and the air ruffled the bangs against his forehead. “Damn idiot. Now she’s taking your stupidity out on all of us.” He fell quiet for a moment, then shook his head. “You’re going to have to apologize.”

“Like hell I will!”

“Even the customers are starting to notice how strained everything is around here. Like it or not, Kagome is as much a part of our lives now as anyone, and you can’t just expect her being upset not to affect the rest of us. You destroyed our peace --”

“I did?! She’s the one --”

“-- now you fix it. Grovel if you have to. Fuck her if you have to. I don’t care what you do. Just do it.”

That particular suggestion, from a normally pleasant and unprofane Miroku shocked InuYasha stupid, and his barely-formed protest whooshed out of him in one breath. Miroku’s words squirmed into his head like a suggestive snake, provoking thoughts of rich scents, the taste of bare skin and sweat, and the slow vibrations of pleasured moans throbbing into his ears. The warm, liquid laxness of absolute relief hitting his body in a rush. The mere possibility…. His gut clenched, hard, and the claws of one hand dug into his thigh, cutting tiny slits into his jeans.

He averted his eyes and snarled with fury. Damn the lecherous bastard for even mentioning it. Five years, and he’d never had a problem with his self-imposed celibacy, but now…. It had been hitting him at the oddest times of the day: a deep, instinctual urge to rut, a gnawing need to find the woman who’d been avoiding him and finish what they’d started in her room. It was a dangerous distraction, an added thorn of suffering. He hadn’t allowed himself to even think about sex for years, but now he could hardly think about anything else. And all it had taken was one kiss.

Miroku ignored him, and his eyes gleamed with warning. “You have to make peace with Kagome, InuYasha. I will not have our customers spreading rumors of unpleasantness to other potential customers. We have enough problems covering our expenses with the inn as it is. People around here will notice that we’re still operating after a bad year, and they’ll start asking questions. They’ll start looking at us as something more than a curiosity that brings in business. Do you really want that kind of scrutiny?”

And if that didn’t put things back into perspective, nothing else would. He let the frustration out in another growl, and collapsed back onto the floor, slamming his fist into the open cabinet door; the force of the blow made it bounce. “Shit.”

He swiped a hand down his face. Miroku was right, damn it. They couldn’t afford anyone looking too hard. Even if some stranger didn’t know what they were looking for, they could trip over something dangerous -- and that could mean the end of everything here. His peace, and the relative peace of the ones who’d come with him, would vanish. Again. And this time, maybe their lives would go along with it.

Just what the hell was he supposed to do? Grovel? Like hell he would. He clamped down hard around Miroku’s other suggestion, pushing it to the back of his brain in a desperate bid to ignore that as an option, and wondered what the hell else he could try.

Miroku kept his hard stare for a long moment before his features softened. He sighed and relaxed, turning so his back rested against the counter next to InuYasha. He slid down the cabinets and folded to sit cross-legged beside him. “Kagome has managed to become quite the influence around here, hasn’t she?”

He grunted and let his head thunk back against the edge of counter. His elbow rested against his bent knee, and he glared at the wrench in his hand as it came to rest against his thigh. “She’s making the whole place a damn misery to be around.”

The whole place…especially him.

Leaving her subtle scent everywhere to drive him insane. Walking around with a body that made his mouth water. The very thought of her made him want to lick something soft and damp and elementally feminine.

He swallowed a growl, hard, then bit down on his tongue, trying to ground himself. Damn, he was really losing it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Miroku quirk an eyebrow. The stupid bastard didn’t miss anything. “Unquestionably. I just find it interesting that she hasn’t even been here a month, and she’s already so capable of disrupting us all.” He hesitated, then muttered, “Last time was different.”

An involuntary start ran like a current through his body, jerking him out of the wayward sex-obsession better than any pain could; a sneer nipped at his mouth. “The last time what?”

Miroku drew a deep breath and physically braced himself. “With her, InuYasha. With you. It was different between you; she wasn’t so involved in our lives, or even interested. Kagome is different.”

His grip tightened so hard around the wrench that he thought he might never be able to let go. “I know that. That has nothing to do with this.”

Miroku was quiet for a bit longer, his silence considering. “If that has nothing to do with this, then why are you running away from something you obviously want?”

The growl ripped from his throat without his permission, and the snarl in his voice reeked of danger. “It’s none of your fucking business what I do with my body or why, you damn bouzu.”

Miroku winced, then sighed. His tone grew rueful. “I suppose you’re right.” It was his truce, his sign that he was letting it drop -- for now. “You will do something about our current situation, though.”

He struggled against the urge to tell his best friend to go fuck himself. Considering how Miroku usually responded to that particular suggestion, it wouldn’t be worth the mental aggravation anyway. “I heard you,” he said instead, low and volatile.

Miroku nodded. “Good.” Amusement threaded his voice, warmed the cautiousness in his scent. “Because I, for one, really can’t stomach too many more angry meals. I’ve gotten used to much better quality food, and I don’t appreciate the change.”

He blinked, then snorted back a wayward chuckle as he felt his shoulders release the tension that had held them so tight. The food for that past couple of days had been awful: cold, over-spiced, flavored with a hint of burn. It seemed Kagome’s cooking skills degenerated with her mood.

They fell quiet, the air between them comfortable.

Miroku stirred, slanting a glance at him. “About the other night…. You noticed it, right? About Shippou?”

His brows tensed in thought as he followed the change in subject. “Yeah. He was playing shogi.”

It had been what had drawn him into the kitchen in the first place. Shippou, touching and moving the pieces as if it were…. Just some game to play. Not a symbol of his family, not a reminder of what had happened. No recoil. No tears. No withdrawing off onto his own. When InuYasha had walked by the kitchen that night to see the two of them playing, he’d nearly goggled in shock to see the kitsune sitting on the table with a tile in his hand. The kid’d pushed pieces across the board as if it were the most natural, unremarkable thing in the world to him, his face animated and engaged as he chattered away to a smiling Kagome. In the past five years, he’d never once known the kit to touch a piece of that particular game without flinching or tearing up; but now, suddenly, for some reason….

InuYasha sighed, faintly irritated again and not sure why. “Maybe he’s finally getting over it.”

The deep violet of Miroku’s gaze seemed complacent as he scanned the area around them, a tiny, satisfied smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Kagome seems to have that effect, doesn’t she?” Another slanted glance. “She got you to take off that hat.”

InuYasha waited for him to continue, then scowled when he didn’t. “Keh.” It wasn’t like Miroku to state the obvious as if it were obvious. He usually preferred to state the unobvious as if it were obvious. “You got a point to go along with that?”

Miroku shrugged, then said quietly. “Maybe Shippou’s not the only one getting over things.”

InuYasha didn’t respond, not even a twitch of muscle in acknowledgement of the statement. He didn’t want to give the monk any indication that he might be right, whether it was true or not. Never mind the fact that he’d been happier and more contented in the past few weeks than he’d been in the past five years -- he’d also been the most uncomfortable and unsettled that he could remember being in…decades.

Miroku sighed then got to his feet and turned to stare down at him as he spoke. “It’s not a bad thing, you know. Moving on means we haven’t let that bastard ruin our lives.” He raised his hand in front of his face. “I don’t know about you, but I refuse to let him win.”

InuYasha darted a quick glance at him from the corner of his eyes, then looked away, his hand curling into a fist against his thigh, catching on the holes he’d previously sliced into them.

Miroku shoved his fists into his pockets and his feet sounded dull and light against the floorboards, then paused in the doorway. He slanted a glance over his shoulder. “Due to the circumstances in here, the ladies have decided to serve a cold lunch in the dining room in about thirty minutes. I assume you’ve made some progress with our water problem?”

He blinked, then scowled. “Something’s blocking the pipe. I’ll get it before dinner.”

Miroku nodded. “Looks like the sun will set in the next few hours, and we’re scheduled for some nasty weather tonight, so don’t push it too long.” An odd smile twisted his mouth. “Will you be joining us for dinner this evening?”

InuYasha hesitated. “The sun? Dinner?” He didn’t stand, but twisted to look up at the sunlight steaming through the curtains above the sink. A shocked zing of realization had him blinking again and swearing under his breath; he hadn’t forgotten, exactly, but he hadn’t considered it in the midst of all the other shit he’d been wading through for the past few days.

Kagome.

A band of apprehension wrapped around his gut at the thought, and his mouth straightened into a grim line. Damn that woman for making his life so complicated. He shook his head and worked his way back under the sink so that he didn’t have to see Miroku’s piercing eyes fixed on him. “I’m not hungry. Eat without me tonight.”

Miroku didn’t like that answer, he could tell by the disapproving silence. But his friend sighed. “She’s here to stay. She’ll find out eventually.”

InuYasha only clamped his jaw tight and jammed the wrench back onto the pipe.

Miroku drew another breath, and his voice sounded fainter as his feet resumed thudding down the hall. “Your choice. Remember -- it’s going to get bad tonight, so be careful. See you tomorrow.”

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Kagome slammed her way into her room and turned her glare on the neatly folded futon and blankets stacked in the far corner. Just one more chore to do before she could go to sleep.

Outside, the wind gave a faint howl, and the conditions continued to worsen. They’d been expecting a blizzard tonight, so everyone had retired early in preparation. The various couple groups making up their guest list had bundled into their rooms for some cozy alone time, Shippou and Kaede had headed for the cabin just after the snow started falling at dusk, and Miroku had vanished off on his own to do some paperwork. The irrational grump who called himself the Sachi’s owner had been nowhere to be seen for hours now. That, of course, had left Kagome alone to finish up all the late-night chores.

With a huff, she walked over and started pulling the cushion out.

It’d taken her until nearly midnight to finish cleaning the kitchen, thanks to InuYasha and his dawdling over whatever had been stopping the sink. First, he’d had the audacity not to believe her when she told him about it, then he’d taken over her kitchen for the majority of the day -- and since she was still furious with him, she’d been forced to stay away from her own kitchen. It had been near sunset before he’d emerged, looking perplexed, tired, and cranky, to tell her in a short, stiff tone that he’d have to work on it some more tomorrow.

“I can’t figure out what’s blocking it. It’s like nothing’s there.”

She’d stared at him in disbelief as he’d grabbed a quick sandwich from the fridge. “What am I supposed to do about dinner? We have eight people to feed besides ourselves.”

He’d shrugged and gestured to the meat-and-cheese in his hands. “Feed ‘em this stuff.” Then he’d disappeared down the hall, leaving a mess in her kitchen, and her with no water to cook dinner for their guests.

Kagome huffed again, using far more force than necessary to shake out her blankets.

She’d been forced to call Shippou away from the guests, ready to have him run water to her from other parts of the inn so she could make the soup. But what had happened when she had, in a fit of frustration, tried running the tap? Water, -- a healthy, rushing stream of it -- right there in her sink. As if it had never stopped!

“Liar,” she muttered, slamming her pillow onto the newly made bed. She turned and started stripping out of her clothes, tossing them into a pile near the wall. “Jerk. Idiot.” It had taken her two hours longer than normal to clean the kitchen, thanks to all the scuffmarks on the floor and extra dishes left over from lunch. “Moron. Inconsiderate jackass.”

Was the prank really necessary? Hadn’t he done enough damage to her ego when he’d run from her room two nights ago? For heaven’s sake, he’d acted as if kissing her would land him an infectious disease!

She stopped halfway through putting on the shirt -- his shirt, the one they’d put on her when they first found her -- that she usually wore to bed and gave it a wounded look before tossing it into the pile of dirty clothes near the wall. She took the two steps over to her tiny closet and grabbed a simple, floral-patterned kimono robe instead.

She didn’t understand him at all. He was the one who’d shown up without warning in her room in the middle of the night. He was the one who’d been kissing her. And it had been such an incredible kiss. His mouth was more an experience than actual taste: all rough tongue and slick movements, warm breath with hints of something that felt smooth and earthy and essentially male. And gods, she wanted to experience that again -- her body kept reminding her of it, plagued as it was by this odd restlessness he inspired.

Why had he taken it away? What was he so afraid of? Kagome wasn’t stupid enough to think that he hadn’t wanted to kiss her. She’d felt it in his touch, seen it in his body; nothing had been as obvious as the raw desire that had thickened the air in the tiny room around them. She also knew that just because the body wanted something the mind didn’t necessarily agree, but….

She couldn’t believe he’d tried to take it back -- and worse, tried to pretend that it wasn’t there at all. InuYasha felt that strange, magnetic pull between them; he was just as affected by it as she was. She knew it because of the baffled, frustrated looks he gave her whenever they inadvertently ended up in the same room; she knew it because of the way he twitched or jumped if she got too close to him. He just refused to acknowledge it.

Sometimes, she wanted to strangle his stubborn neck.

Why? It didn’t make sense to her that he would start something so intense and…right…and then deny it. She tucked the last bits of heavy flannel around herself and slumped to her knees on the futon cushion, feeling dejected and weary. What was it about her that sent him running? And what was up with the dirty trick with the water? Talk about heaping insult onto insult.

The wind outside picked up volume, and snow thumped against her window, making her jump. A nearly inaudible whine echoed through the walls, and the light died.

Kagome sucked in a breath and sat up straight, blinking into the abrupt cloak of darkness as she waited for her eyes to adjust. The only light filtering into the room was from what little unmolested sky still existed outside -- almost nothing, considering how low and heavy the clouds had been for most of the evening.

Her brow furrowed. It was late, and as far as she knew, she was the only one still awake. So did that mean she should just ignore it and go to bed, or should she go out and see if she could do something about the lack of electricity? What about the heating? Miroku had been very clear to everyone during dinner -- at which InuYasha had been noticeably absent, the jerk -- about the dangers of not keeping warm during the kind of freezing temperatures they would have tonight. They’d spent considerable time earlier in the day preparing the guests and making sure every occupied room had a surfeit of blankets and a small heater.

After a moment of thought, she sighed and crept across the floor, carefully feeling out the house slippers she’d left by the door. It was probably best to do something now if something could be done, and she thought she remembered InuYasha saying something once about a breaker with switches for the different parts of the Sachi. Maybe if she found that, she could jiggle something around until it worked. The worst she could do was try.

*******************************************************************

Three turns and four hallways later, Kagome was convinced that she wasn’t anywhere near the kitchen, or the flashlight she was positive she’d seen in one of the drawers. She drew to a halt and frowned at the wood beneath her palm. The darkness in the hallway was even thicker and more oppressive than it had been in her room, so she’d been using the wall and memory for guidance. Too bad it seemed neither had worked.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she wondered what to do now. Since she hadn’t hit the entrance to the kitchen like she’d thought she would, should she turn around and try to find her way back? The only problem with that was she wasn’t sure where she was now, which was a bad enough deal in a normal place, but this was the Sachi. What if she walked right into a guest’s room?

She blushed furiously at the very thought. Because of the story surrounding it, the reason most people came to the Sachi had very little to do with family-friendly activities. Walking in on something like that was not on her list of things to do before she died.

At a loss for any other action, she decided to follow the wall for a little while longer. After blindly groping her way a bit further, sounds reached her ears. She paused, her brows knitting together with curiosity.

Soft rustling of what sounded like cloth. The harder thud of solid object hitting solid object. The light scraping of metal on metal. More rustling, combined with a muted curse. All coming from somewhere in front of her.

Her teeth worried at her bottom lip, and her mind wavered between wondering if she’d reached the kitchen after all and someone had beaten her there, or if she’d inadvertently stumbled in on a guest bedroom and should turn and head in the opposite direction.

Another curse, this one louder, reached her and she blinked in surprise at the familiar voice. InuYasha? Had he decided to emerge from hiding? Except -- wait; was something off about his voice? It didn’t sound quite…right.

Without conscious decision, her feet moved her forward, her hand sliding along the wall panels until they hit the slight rise of a doorframe. Her fingers curled around the edge -- the door was open -- and she hesitated, trying unsuccessfully to peer through the pitch-black interior.

The movement from the room beyond suddenly stopped. A faint, repetitive clicking echoed into the stillness a few times. A groan, followed by muttering. “Fucking stupid batteries.” The soft, dull thuds of footsteps on the tatami, heading her way.

Kagome sucked in a breath, opening her mouth to warn him, but the hard warmth of a body collided with hers before she could get the words from her brain to her mouth. She stumbled backwards at the impact teetering dangerously without her sight to help orient her. He cursed again, a vicious, angry sound, and his hands clamped around her upper arms and slammed her body back into the wall. Her head knocked hard against the wood and whatever breath she’d retained at the first impact whooshed out of her at the second. For a moment of complete shock, her lungs struggled to pull in air.

Either he didn’t notice or he didn’t care. His body crowded in close, hot and immovable and hovering just beyond actual touch, to keep her penned against the wall; one of his hands moved up to her the junction of her shoulder and neck, and his fingertips pressed dull pain through the thick material of her robe. Over the collar, two of his fingers dug into her flesh. She winced.

“Who the fuck are you and why are you here?”

His voice was low and dangerous, and his breath brushed tingling heat against her cheek. She blinked in disbelief at him through the pitch black, hyper-aware of him and angry because of it. “InuYasha, let go! You’re hurting me!”

His grip loosened immediately. His fingers stopped causing pain, but they didn’t move. Instead, they just rested there, a soft, tantalizing patch of skin on skin. “Kagome?”

“You were expecting Kaede?” She felt him flinch and take a step back at her sarcasm. But his grip on her shoulder stayed put, burning into her awareness. “What is wrong with you?”

“Shit. Oh, shit.” He sounded shaken. Finally, his hands pulled away from her body, and she bit her lip to stifle a spurt of disappointment. She heard the brief shuffing sound of clothes as his body shifted in agitation. “I didn’t mean -- You can’t just walk around without --” His voice dropped low. “Damn. Are you okay? I didn’t…hurt you, did I?”

His obvious remorse surprised her; it also softened her as nothing else could. She could feel the tension and upset seeping out of her muscles. Barely breathing, she shook her head. It took her another moment before she realized that he couldn’t see her. “No, you didn’t hurt me.” Her volume was nearly as quiet as his. Despite herself, she sought to reassure him. “I’m all right, InuYasha.”

Her words drifted into the settled silence to meet the quiet sincerity of his, and they hovered in the air between them, close and intimate. Kagome drew in a slow, steadying breath. InuYasha didn’t move. Neither of them spoke.

Kagome licked her lips. “Why are you so jumpy?”

He body gave light jerk, then tensed again; he was still close enough that she could feel it, even in the thick darkness. “I’m not -- What the hell are you doing here, anyway? This is my room.”

“Your room?” But his room was on the opposite side of the Sachi, much farther away from her room than the kitchen. She rolled her eyes, then sighed. “I was trying to get to the kitchen. I can’t see a thing with all the lights out.”

He took another step back, and she couldn’t quite feel him any more -- another spurt of disappointment. “Shit. Damn this old place. Hold on for a sec. Don’t move from that spot.”

Kagome nodded, still wondering idly what it was that sounded so strange about his voice, and listened to the light thud of his footsteps as he moved down the hallway. She heard the sound of a door opening, and more things being shifted around. She thought about it for a minute, and realized he must be going through the spare closet. It was the only other door in the hallway near his.

According to Miroku, the room InuYasha occupied had been the Sachi’s original master bedroom, which was why it was the only bedroom far enough away from the other rooms to ensure privacy. It was located at the very end of the left wing, with an entire wall of doors that opened up to a vista of sloping, tree-laden mountainside and nothing else. None of the other doors or windows in the inn had a clear view of the room, making it the Sachi’s only totally isolated room. Kagome was curious about it; she knew where it was, had cleaned the hallway beyond it once or twice, but had never actually been inside it. InuYasha insisted that he didn’t need a maid service and refused to let any of the staff inside.

It was also about as far away from her room as it was possible to get without actually going outside first. Kagome couldn’t understand how she’d gotten this far away from the kitchen without realizing it.

Another click echoed through the hallway, and this time, a bright, narrow beam of light spilled into the hallway. Kagome winced, narrowed her eyes at the unexpected visual input, and waited while InuYasha stepped back into the hallway and shut the door. He held the flashlight in front of him, pointed down, and with the shadows as well as the sudden brightness, she couldn’t see him that well. Instead, she averted her gaze as he crossed the distance separating them.

A satisfied grunt. “Heh. The bastard just needed new batteries.”

“That’s why I was heading for the kitchen. I think I remember one in there.”

The light jiggled as he shrugged. “We lose power at least a couple times each year during the heavy snows, so I keep one with me just in case. It’s a damn pain trying to get it back on without a light.”

Her eyes were starting to adjust, so she took another stab at peering through the ambient light drifting from the flashlight. What, exactly, felt so off about him? In the dimness, she could make out jeans and a dark sweatshirt covering his limbs, blending perfectly with the shadows darkening his hair…. She went still, then looked again, more carefully this time. Her eyes widened. “InuYasha…. What happened to your hair?” She tipped her head to the side, feeling baffled. And…oh dear. “Where are your ears?!”

And then she realized what she’d found so strange about his voice: his husky rasp had vanished. Tonight, his voice was smoother, gentler, without the rough, grumbling timbre that usually made his voice so unique. “What happened to you?”

He went stiff, from his bare feet to the top of his head. The light in front of them bounced a bit as his grip tightened around the handle. They stood in a ridiculously frozen tableau for a moment, her eyes glued to him, his body so tight he looked like he might crack. Then he sighed, a soft, resigned sound, and his shoulders loosened a bit.

The flashlight lifted, flashed up at his face. “The ears are still there. They’re just in a little different place than normal.”

She stared. Blinked. Came closer.

The light threw harsh shadows across his features, but she could still make out the same face she’d always seen. His jaw, nose, cheekbones, all the same -- but his coloring…. His eyes were an odd shade, much darker than the liquid amber she was used to, though the shadows made it hard to distinguish: gray, possibly brown. His hair was black: pitch black, midnight black, the same black as the hallway had been before his arrival. It was still long, and it still looked thick and luxurious to the touch, but that pale, silver sheen was gone. And, after a moment, she made out one more significant difference, tucked back beneath the darkness of his hair: human ears.

She sucked in a breath, then reached up, her fingers seeking to traced the lower curve of one delicate-looking lobe.

His face tightened and he jerked back, his shoulder thumping into the wall behind him.

Kagome felt the rejection like a dull blow to the chest. She dropped her hand, and averted her eyes. Of course he didn’t want her to touch him. He didn’t want her touch -- or at least, refused to admit to wanting her touch. Her lips tightened. “You’re human.”

He sounded annoyed. “No kidding.”

Unbidden, knowledge rose from the murky ethers of her mind. Her eyes widened at her own certainty, then shot back to his face. Her lips parted, breathing out sound. “Hanyou.”

“What’d you just say?”

“It’s because you’re a hanyou. All half-youkai lose their powers at certain times because of their human heritage, and….”

And become vulnerable to attack.

Lines furrowed her brow at the unexpected thought. She shook it off and locked gazes with him. “For you that’s tonight?”

Across the beam of light, he went very still again. “Yeah.” Suddenly the light was in her face, flaring into her retinas with sharp brilliance. “How the hell do you know that? It’s not exactly information that people like me advertise.”

Kagome put her hand out, slightly blind, and pushed the flashlight down, feeling defensive over his tone. She blinked into the afterimages that hazed over her eyes and tried to focus on him. “I… I’m not sure, actually. I wasn’t even…thinking about it when I said it.”

Another silence, this one shorter. “You remembering something?”

“I don’t know. I….” Her head throbbed -- not quite a pain, but she reached up to rub at her temples anyway. She took a step backwards, misjudged her feet in her house slippers, and nearly fell onto her butt.

Nearly.

His hand darted out and grabbed at her, his fingers encircling her forearm, jerking her back to steadiness. Even through the thick flannel, she felt the ghost of his heat and strength. He released her the moment she was back on two feet, yanking his hand back like she’d scalded him. She didn’t have to see his glare to know it was there.

“Fuck. Start watching where you step, woman, ‘cause I’m getting damn tired of catching you!”

Another blow, right to her pride. She sucked in a sharp breath. “I didn’t ask for your help!”

“Yeah, well, you would have been flat on your ass if I waited for you to ask!”

“You…! I’m not a helpless klutz, so stop treating me like one!”

“Quit acting like one, and I’ll think about it!”

They stared at each other for a moment.

Kagome sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and looked away, embarrassed at the immaturity of her outburst. “Is there anything we can do about the electricity?”

InuYasha sighed, the sound heavy with resignation, and turned to gesture down the hallway. “There’s a breaker up in the attic. I’m heading up there now.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t known they had an attic. “Let’s go then. It’s starting to get cold.”

“Let’s go?” Black hair flew about his shoulders as his head whipped back around. “Both of us?”

Her temper had already started to fray; at his tone, her spine snapped a little straighter and her lips pressed together. “Well, I was planning on going by myself, but since you’re here you may as well come along.”

He blinked at her, and she could see the dark slashes of his eyebrows pull together over his eyes. “Oh, hell no. I don’t need your help with this. Just go back to your room and go to sleep.”

She made an impatient noise. “And how, exactly, do you expect me to do that? The last time I tried to find my way around this place in the dark I ended up here instead of the kitchen. And you have the only flashlight.”
“I’ll --”

“Take me back to my room?” She deliberately put challenge into her question, reminding him what had happened the last time he’d come to her room. She half-hoped he would, and wondered fleetingly what he’d do if she kissed him when they got there. Maybe, a smaller part of her brain, one much more rebellious than she’d thought herself to have, whispered, he’d stay until morning. The thought pulled her up short -- not because she was resistant to the thought, but because she hadn’t yet carried the implications of her desires through to their inevitable conclusions.

Abruptly, she dropped her gaze away from his, her fingers twisting into the flannel of her kimono robe. Dear gods. Was she really considering doing that with him? She, who had no past and very little knowledge of herself? Was it right for her to pursue such a relationship with him? It was fine to jump right into living the life right in front of her, but was she ready for such a relationship? She’d barely been here a month yet. And, what about InuYasha and his reticence? He had to have a reason, right?

So many questions. Doubts. Nothing was quite as simple as she wanted it to be.

The silence around them thickened as he stared at her through the gloom, some indefinable emotion flickering across his human face. Thankfully, it didn’t last more than a few moments before InuYasha shifted his bare feet, then turned his back on her with a gruff snort. “Fine, whatever. Come on. Just don’t start screaming at bugs or complaining ‘cause it’s cold.”

He was halfway down the hallway before she’d even had time register his irritation. Tugging and tucking her robe a little tighter, she hurried after him without comment, still chewing over her stunned revelation.

************************************************************ *******

The attic was at the very top of the Sachi, a hidden third level in a building that had only two. Kagome was quite surprised when InuYasha led her up to the second floor and through a series of turns that she might have been able to remember during the day, but was hopelessly confused over in the impenetrable black of night. They didn’t speak while they walked, but Kagome didn’t mind; she continued to turn her thoughts over in her head, mulling them over, seeking an answer she could be comfortable with.

Her eyes kept straying to his hair, distracted by the contrast from its usual shade. He didn’t have it tied back, so it just flowed around his shoulders and down his back, helping him blend into the night itself. If it hadn’t been for the flashlight, she would have lost him for sure.

Human. Tonight, he was as human as she. She turned the concept over in her mind. It certainly didn’t bother her, nor did it change her image of him in any way; he was still InuYasha, just with different coloring. She wished she’d gotten a better look at him in the light. Then she wondered how being human affected his physiology, if at all. He didn’t seem much different than normal.

Maybe less aware of her.

InuYasha stopped, so abruptly that Kagome barely kept herself from running into him. He didn’t even bother to glance back before he led her through a door.

She gave a tiny shudder at the abrupt temperature drop when she followed him into a tiny, high-ceilinged room. A set of rail-less stairs -- more glorified stepladder, really -- had been built right into the floor. InuYasha pointed the flashlight up the sharp incline, and Kagome’s eyes followed the play of the beam. The steps were made of thin slabs of wood, and the light flowed around and between them, casting odd shadows against the walls. The steps continued up until they ended at a large square set seamlessly into the ceiling, several feet above their head.

She craned her neck to stare. The square of ceiling looked thick and heavy, and a rounded circle of metal hung from one side. A trap door. “The attic’s through there?”

Beside her, InuYasha shrugged, looking thoroughly irritated -- black hair, human ears, and all. “Yeah, well, it’s not a very big room. You don’t have to come up, you know. Whether this works or not, it’ll only take me a few minutes. And it’ll be pretty cold up there. The attic’s the only room in this place without any kind of decent insulation.”

Immediately, she shook her head. “No way. I want to see it.”

He darted a sideways glance at her, and his eyes struck her with their darkness. “Suit yourself.”

He went up first, the beam of light shaking with each step. For ease of climbing, Kagome kicked off her clunky house slippers before she followed. The wood felt warped, rough, and cold against her bare feet, and she wondered if it felt different to him without his normal youkai invulnerability.

InuYasha reached the door and, after a moment of fumbling with the handle, pushed it open with a grunt of effort. It swung up and into the room above with a faint creak. InuYasha hauled himself up after it, and Kagome caught a glimpse of slanting support beams as the light bounced erratically through the space beyond.

“C’mon.” InuYasha’s voice echoed faintly, as if he were in a cave. He hovered over the entrance, black hair drifting down around his face, one hand held through the gap.

She bit her lip, then took his hand. His fingers closed around her wrist, warm despite the chill air, and confident; he tugged, levering her with very little effort up into the attic. The trap door stood straight up, a heavy, thick slab resting against the edge of the floor. The rest of the room was filled with storage and shadows: bags, tarps, and boxes of all shapes and sizes piled against each other in random groups against the beam-lined walls, and deep patches of darkness interspersed the spaces between them.

It was kind of creepy….and really, really cold. Kagome shivered again as InuYasha stood and centered the light on a large metal panel set into a section of straight wall on the other side of the room. “That’s it, over there.”

Not wanting to get too far away from either InuYasha or the light, Kagome kept close while he flipped open the metal door and started fiddling with switches. Grains of dirt and the dust of years of neglect crept between her toes the moment she started walking; Kagome grimaced, already regretting leaving her slippers behind and wondering how tough it would be to detour to the kitchen for a washcloth before she retired for the night. Although, considering how cold it was in here, she might not be able to feel her toes soon anyway.

It took a few minutes of watching InuYasha, but Kagome realized that he was systematically flipping the switches off, then on, one by one. Room by room, probably. Eyeing his hands (and didn’t they look strange with neat human nails instead of claws?), she wondered if it was doing any good. “How will you know if it works?”

He didn’t look up. “I’ll hear it.”

Her brows lifted. “Without your ears?”

His fingers paused mid-flip and he gave her an offended look. “I don’t need youkai senses to tell whether it’s working or not. Don’t tell me you didn’t hear that sound right before the lights went down.”

“Oh. I guess I did.”

He snorted and went back to switching switches. “It’s not like I’m helpless in this form, you know.”

She’d never meant to imply that he was. “It doesn’t bother you, losing your senses?”

He cursed and scowled at the switch under his thumb. Then he sighed. “It used to bug me a lot. I’m better at dealing with it now than I was when I was a kid.” He didn’t look at her, and she couldn’t see his face through the shadows and his hair, but his voice sounded sincere.

Kagome was surprised. She hadn’t expected such a serious answer. “So why do you hide?”

A shrug of his shoulders and another click-clack of a switch. “Besides the fact that it’s no one’s business but my own? It’s dangerous to let other people know something like this. You never know who might be waiting for you to be vulnerable without your normal strength.”

Vulnerable. Kagome startled, way down deep where no one could actually see. Hadn’t she thought that same thing not too long ago? Why did that sound so…?

Something rose inside her brain, something real and knowing, hovering at the edges of her consciousness. She went still and careful, her eyes narrowing, her entire being straining to grab hold of it. “InuYasha….” Even her voice dropped into a restrained tone, barely above a whisper. “You know people who might want to catch you vulnerable?”

He went still as well. Slowly, his head lifted from his pondering of the breaker to stare at her over the flashlight in his free hand. His dark eyes locked on hers, and he drew in a breath. She barely noticed his attention, so focused was she on that tangible knowledge dancing just beyond her grasp. If she could just --

CREEEAK.

Kagome saw InuYasha’s eyes go wide and his head whip around, but didn’t have time to react before a deafening BANG ricocheted through the attic, amplified by the acoustics of the slanted walls. She jumped, a soft shriek bursting from her lungs. Her hand went to her throat as her heart froze in her chest, then resumed at a rate that nearly choked her. The knowing slipped from her brain like a wisp of smoke on the breeze.

“What the hell?!” InuYasha was across the room before she had time to reclaim the breath that had been scared out of her. He knelt on the floor beside the now-closed trap door and tugged at the handle.

It didn’t budge.

“Damn.” He braced his feet and yanked again, with both hands this time. Still nothing. He tried again: not even a hint of a budge. He muttered something unintelligible, then placed the flashlight on the floor near his feet and braced himself, putting the full weight of his body into the next tug.

Still nothing.

Kagome watched him, anxiety growing in her chest. “InuYasha?”

“Fuck!” He let it go and kicked at the door, but only succeeded in bruising his foot. He turned and glared at her. “I can’t get it open. The fucking thing is stuck.”

********************************************************** *********

It took him a good thirty minutes of yanking, pounding, and cursing to admit that they probably weren’t getting out of the attic without help. Kagome didn’t last that long. She saw the futility after about fifteen, decided to sit down and watched InuYasha’s fruitless beating. The door might as well have been nailed shut.

Sit down, on the gritty floor, wearing nothing but underwear and her kimono robe. In a room that was getting colder by the second. Despite the thick flannel, she could feel the chill starting to seep into her skin. She fought off a light shiver as InuYasha finally relinquished the handle and plopped down onto the floor beside her in a fit of disgust, bracing his hands on the floorboards as he leaned back.

“If it were any night other than the new moon, this wouldn’t be a problem. I could rip the fucking stubborn thing off its hinges and we’d be out of here. Damn it!” He shifted, swiping at his hair and glaring down at the flashlight that still lay by their feet providing what little light they had in the room. Though -- was the light not as bright as it had been before?

Kagome didn’t want to dwell on the possibility of the batteries running out, so she focused on something else that caught her interest. “New moon?”

He sent her an odd look and didn’t reply for so long that she thought he wasn’t going to. When he did speak, his voice was hesitant, grudging. “The night of the new moon each month, when there is no moon in the sky, is my “time” as a hanyou. From sunset to sunrise, I can’t smell or hear like normal, and my strength is only a fraction of what it normally is.”

“From sunset to sunrise….” She thought back over the evening, and his disappearance suddenly made sense -- as did his extreme reaction to her presence outside his room. “So…. That means that at sunrise you’ll go back to normal?”

“Yeah.”

Kagome nodded back and beat back a yawn. “So all we have to do is wait until sunrise. That’s not so bad.”

This time he looked truly surprised. “Not so bad? You’re not going to whine and complain about spending the night in here?”

She shrugged. “How will that help? If we just wait, at some point we’ll get out of here.” She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed, trying to generate some warmth. “It could be a bit warmer, though.”

The dark shadows of his eyes dropped to trace the movements of her arms, and she suddenly wished she knew for certain the color of his human eyes. Maybe she should just ask him. Considering his -- probably wise -- penchant for keeping to himself during his human times, it might be her only chance. Tonight had been a fluke; she wasn’t likely ever to get to see him like this again, and bringing it up later would probably get her rebuffed in a mean way.

The thought made her feel inexplicably depressed. Her hands stilled on her biceps and her shoulders slumped.

InuYasha sighed and turned his body around until his back faced her. “Come on. We might as well get a little closer. It’s going to get pretty damn cold in here before the night is over and we don’t have much besides each other to keep warm.”

Stunned, Kagome just blinked at him for a long moment.

“Don’t read anything into it!” He snapped at her so suddenly she nearly jumped again. “This has nothing to do with --”

Her eyes widened.

“With anything but keeping warm. I’m not trying to -- It’ll be a real pain if you get sick because this damn house is always broken in some way or another.”

He crossed his arms, and she stared at his rigid back. A smile tugged at her mouth, and she had to swallow a giggle. “You’re blaming the Sachi for keeping us trapped in here?”

He must have heard the laughter in he voice, because he started to turn, but she scooted around first, hearing her heart thump solidly in her chest as she settled her back to rest against his. At first, he was stiff and ramrod straight, but after a few seconds he seemed to adjust to the feel of her, his muscles loosening enough to mold comfortably to hers. In the ensuing quiet, the warmth of their bodies seeped through the barriers of their clothing. Kagome closed her eyes and let his heat envelope her, and the bone-deep shivers that had been threatening for the past few minutes died away.

With a sigh, Kagome laid her head back and relaxed in his presence for the first time in days.

****************************************************************** *

Being this close to her was driving him nuts.

She felt somehow softer and more real than he had expected, a slight, comfortable weight keeping him company in the dim. The sensation was good, more than good, and some deep, dissatisfied part of him reveled in the closeness, in the intimacy. It craved more.

For the past few days, he’d been doing his best to convince himself that the extreme reaction he had to her was just a result of his youkai nature having gone so long without any sexual contact. His instincts had finally found something they liked, and they were punishing him for the unusually long abstinence. But tonight, at least, he should have been free of them, not suffering in silence over the over the inadequate bits of her that he could smell and hear with dulled senses.

He breathed out, a silent motion of defeat, and his breath puffed in front of his face in the faint light.

Damn, it was getting colder.

His subconscious stirred, a seductive whisper of suggestion. There are other, more pleasurable, ways to keep warm. Ways that don’t involve sitting back to back on a cold wooden floor.

He couldn’t help the cynical twist that pulled at the edges of his mouth. So maybe it wasn’t just his youkai instincts that were protesting his long abstinence. His human urges seemed to agree. Maybe he should start dealing with them.

Miroku’s words from that afternoon rang in his head.

He sighed, feeling wry and cornered. “I’m sorry.”

Astonishment. They shared it. He hadn’t expected that to come out of his mouth, hadn’t given himself permission to say it.

She went still against his back. For a few long, blessed moments, shock kept her tongue silent. “For what?”

“For--” He paused. He remembered her mouth, the feel of her lips, her body under his. Her scent thickening the air. He thought about where they were now, and tried to remember why he shouldn’t let it happen. His jaw tightened. “For making you angry. I didn’t mean to.”

He could almost hear her turning his words over in her mind. She sighed. “Me too. You’ve done so much for me, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I just --”

In the heavy pause, he felt her brace herself.

“Why?! I know you wanted to do what we did as much as I did. Why do you have to act as if it was such a horrible thing?”

His teeth clenched around a wince. Damn, but he’d hoped his apology would be the end of it.

“Is it something I did? Because I’m not really sure what I’m --”

“It’s not about you.” If it were about you, talking wouldn’t be what we do to pass the time. He shifted ever so slightly, irritated by how close he came to actual physical arousal just from the thought. Damn, damn, and damn, but his body had been a pain in the ass lately.

“Then who is it about? You? Someone else?”

Shit.

Someone else. An image of her, from the last time he’d seen her, hit him without warning, and his torso clenched painfully in objection. What the fuck, what the fuck? How had they gotten onto this subject? “Someone you don’t know.”

Someone I don’t want to think about. Drop it.

“Someone I don’t…. Oh. I’m sorry.”

His fist spasmed against his thighs. Such comprehension in that “oh”. She thought she understood what had happened. Everyone thought they understood what had happened, even though none of them had been there, and none of them had to deal with the pain or the guilt that had practically eaten him alive. The idiots didn’t have a clue, none of them.

He couldn’t do it again. Not with her, not with anyone.

But Kagome wasn’t like her, and he had this deep, burning need to turn around and prove it. To, once and for all, leave her behind, never mind that it felt faintly like betrayal. Given the circumstances, betrayal could kiss his ass. And he wanted Kagome -- really, really wanted her. He liked being with her, liked eating her food, even liked sitting with her, freezing in the dark.

But if he were wrong, it would kill him.

“InuYasha?”

So soft, Kagome’s voice, so gentle. Just like her body as it rested against his.

“I don’t know what happened with this someone that I’ve never met--”

His teeth ground together as he spoke. “It ended badly, okay?” The biggest damn understatement of his entire life. “Now let it go. It’s none of your business.”

“But is it really worth all the pain it’s causing you?”

Worth the pain? InuYasha frowned. He’d never thought of it like that. The pain was just always there, never to be relieved. It was part of his punishment.

She whispered, and the words floated over him like a silky, soothing balm. “I wish you’d stop letting it hurt you. You don’t deserve that kind of suffering.”

Something similar to terrified certainty constricted around his chest. Oh yes. If he were wrong about her this time, if he let her in and she betrayed him, it would definitely kill him.

He spoke before he realized he wanted to, quiet, near delicate in his question and afraid of her response. “What do you want from me, Kagome?”

The flashlight flickered, dimmed dramatically, then blinked out, blanketing them in a cloud of utter, impenetrable darkness.

It was a long time before she answered him, and he had to strain to hear her. “I don’t…know.”

************************************* ******************************

Sometime in the middle of the night, he moved them both to the corner of the room he felt was the warmest. It was only by a fraction of a degree, but warmth was warmth, and up here, where the temperature was dropping rapidly, even dangerously, they could both use all the heat they could get. He had to drag her with him because she was half-asleep, but he managed to get them both propped, side-by-side, against the wall.

Kagome murmured, curled up against his arm, and dropped back into her sleep immediately. But her shivers didn’t stop, and the temperature only got worse. After a few more endless, torturous minutes of feeling the trembling echo from her body to his, he sighed and gave in to the inevitable. He shifted, folding one leg in close against his body and used his upright knee to prop his elbow as he hauled her closer. Then he slipped an arm around her shoulder, tucking her in against his side.

Right away, he felt warmer. She must have as well, because he felt her trembling lessen, then fade away completely before she sighed, heavily. The wind from her breath pushed against his shirt, teasing him with the pseudo-touch. Then she stilled, and the air around them grew quiet and cold and indifferent.

He let his head fall back against the wooden paneling. The soft thunk echoed through his brain, and he spent some time silently cursing the Sachi, Miroku, Shippou, the old bat, and all their customers -- just for being safe and warm and secluded in their own beds.

But not Kagome. While she was curled up against him, warm and trusting and soft, he didn’t feel in slightest like cursing Kagome.

Dawn just wouldn’t come soon enough.

**************************************************************** ***

It wasn’t the soft click that bothered him so much as the high-pitched whine after it. His ears flicked, and he moved his head in an effort to escape the noise, nuzzling his jaw closer to the silky, feathery substance pressed against his neck. Drawn by the pleasing smell, his nose quickly followed.

He was now just awake enough for the next click and whine -- and the bright light that accompanied them, flashing red into his closed eyelids -- to pull him completely from whatever pleasant dreams he’d been having. His top lip gave the faintest of protesting curls, and his arms tightened around the pliant warmth tucked so snuggly against his front. Some distant part of his brain noted with surprise that he sat upright, with his back against a hard substance, while a deeper and more basic part noted that it was fine, because it kept the weight in front of him heavy and secure on his lap.

Wait a minute….something didn’t feel right. Or maybe it was that something felt too right.

Confused and still foggy from sleep, he gave a suspicious frown and cracked his eyelids, golden eyes focusing first on the clutter against the wall opposite him. He blinked, realizing that a faint light source had penetrated the room. His eyes darted to the right, focusing on the Sachi’s manager, who lounged over the open hatch-hole in the floor with a wide-eyed kitsune hanging over his shoulder. Miroku was wearing a thick sweater, house slippers…and his most gloating, shit-eating grin.

His first thought was, It’s about fucking time. His eyes narrowed on Miroku’s expression, and his frown deepened. And then he noticed the small digital camera dangling from his manager’s damaged right hand.

He blinked. Hold on…what….

The dangerous grin widened as Miroku spoke, his voice just above a whisper. “I see you had a more pleasant evening than we thought you did.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why I was worried when we couldn’t find you two this morning.”

You two.

His eyes popped wide as the events of the previous evening hit him with a rush, and he realized what -- no, who -- the cozy weight against his body really was. His neck twisted, angling his gaze downward to focus on Kagome, her eyes peacefully closed and head tucked between his shoulder and neck. Her soft body curled up within the hollow of his crossed legs, her own legs folded neatly beneath her, and his arms had slung themselves securely across her back. Her arms rested against his waist, and with her body pressed to close to his, he could feel her every curve -- every supple bit of flesh -- molding perfectly to his far less yielding musculature.

For a moment, he stared at her in shocked horror. Just how in the hell had she gotten onto his lap?! He remembered putting his arm around her, and they’d both needed the warmth; he didn’t remember inviting her into full body contact. He sure as hell didn’t remember wrapping himself around her like paper around a gift.

Then he realized he had a problem. Well, two actually, but the first one was a completely natural reaction, only slightly uncomfortable, and almost inconsequential next to the second….

How in the hell was he supposed to get her off him? If he moved, she’d wake up and realize that she was on his lap. That would inevitably start her squirming around, which would present to her his first problem quite prominently, and how the hell was she supposed to take that after he had made such a point last night out of how this was a bad idea?

Last night. Their conversation in the dark. The intimacy of sitting back-to-back, whispering secrets. What the hell had possessed him to tell her anything like what he had? For that matter, what had made him think that bringing her up here with him would be a good idea to begin with?

You were trying to avoid temptation, you coward.

He nearly snorted at his own contempt. That damn voice in his head, the one that didn’t give a fuck about past sins or current danger, was getting louder these days.

And look where it got you. Next time you should just give in to temptation and avoid the attic.

His nose twitched. Her scent was all over him. It would take him a while to get rid of it, especially after sleeping with her so close --

Sleep.

His eyes widened.

That’s right, idiot. You slept on your human night. And you slept pretty damn well, didn’t you?

Gods. He hadn’t slept on his human night since he was a kid. He hadn’t felt that safe in decades. Decades.

“You two make quite the cozy picture, you know that?”

Picture.

His shocked gaze went again to where Miroku stood over the open door -- just in time to be blinded by another flash as the digital camera clicked and whined again. Fury and embarrassment sent a hot, thick stream of blood flushing through his veins, and his “only slightly uncomfortable” problem became very uncomfortable. His scowl was instantaneous, his eyes pinning his manager and darkened with the promise of severe bodily harm. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? It’s not what it looks like!”

Kagome stirred in his arms, murmuring softly into the bare skin of his throat. He felt it all the way through him, a ticklish vibration that made all the muscles in his groin draw tight and hard. He froze and bit back a groan.

Miroku looked just on the verge of laughing out loud, but he kept his voice pitched low and soft. “Oh really? Because from here it looks like you were just trying to keep her warm after being stuck in the attic all night. If it’s not that then what, pray tell, is it really? In detail, please.”

His lip curled, and he couldn’t prevent the faint growl that resonated through the air. Miroku, still grinning wide enough to split his face, shook his head and place a finger to his lips. “Careful, InuYasha….we wouldn’t want to wake our sleeping housekeeper, now, would we?”

InuYasha stopped his movement again, and his gaze went back to his sleeping bundle, and could only be thankful that Shippou seemed too tongue-tied to contribute anything meaningful to Miroku’s whispered idiocy. He actually couldn’t believe she was still sleeping with all the racket they’d been making.

“Hey, Miroku, does this mean they’ve kissed now?”

He winced at the loudness of the brat’s voice and looked up to glare death at him. He felt Kagome’s chest press against his, pulling a deep breath of air into her lungs, and looked down again. Right into Kagome’s sleep-soft gray eyes.

She lifted her head and pushed away from him just a bit so she could stare at him. “InuYasha?” Her eyes widened as she took in his changed appearance, then glanced around the room. “You’re back to normal! Are we still in the attic?”

She caught sight of Miroku and Shippou froze, then shrank back into him, blushing furiously as she realized the position they’d been caught in.

InuYasha bit off another groan as she cuddled closer.

Miroku finally gave in and chuckled, the delighted sound echoing a bit, as it bounced off the walls. “Rest assured, Kagome, that none of us here at the Sachi would ever leave you in need of rescuing. Unless, of course, you wanted us to.” He lifted his hand and snapped one more photo before he sat and lowered himself and Shippou through the opening.

InuYasha snarled and lunged, but came to a short stop when Kagome’s arms took a startled grip around his torso. “Give me that godsdamned camera, you pervert!”

Miroku just continued to grin as he climbed down the step-ladder-stairs. “If you two want to come down, we’re getting ready for lunch in a bit.”

“Lunch?!” Kagome finally let go of her death grip and started untangling herself frantically from his limbs. “It can’t be that late!”

He sat back and went very still, keeping a sharp, wary eye on where she put her feet, his mutual surprise over the lateness of the day overshadowed by his concern for certain vital bits of his anatomy being in danger.

Miroku waggled his fingers just before he and Shippou disappeared completely. “You two have been missing for most of the morning. We couldn’t really start a thorough search until after we’d gotten Kaede to make breakfast, you see. And then, of course, our kind guests wanted to help, so we’ve been wandering around looking for you since then.” They heard the tapping thud of his feet hitting the floor below, then his raised voice through the opening. “You two really should come down soon. Everyone’s been looking for the Sachi’s missing housekeeper and owner.” A considering pause, and then, “On the other hand, don’t come down until later, and we’ll find a way to spin this into the legend. It could be good for business.”

Now free of Kagome’s body, if not her scent, InuYasha groaned and swiped a hand across his face. Somehow, he had the feeling that he was in for a bad day.

*******************************************************************

Kakkou Private Academy,

Just outside Hakone

Lunch was a loud affair, with students gathering in small groups around desks and filling the air with the robust sounds of teenage energy. He sat at his desk, picking at the curry bread he’d gotten out of the machine and staring out the window at the students wandering among the trees and well-manicured foliage of the lawn.

Nice place. Just what you’d expect from a privately funded high school.

None of the students approached him, though most of them kept throwing him curious stares. Earlier, after he’d introduced himself to the class, Mizumura-sensei had told him to stick with his roommate from the boys’ dormitory (whose name he couldn’t quite remember, much to his irritation -- but then, they’d barely acknowledge each other this morning as the principal was showing him around) until he was comfortable with the campus, but he didn’t know where he’d gone. He didn’t mind; he didn’t really feel up to the socialization required of a new student in a new school -- not that he expected to make friends anyway. Not with these children of the wealthy and privileged. They didn’t know a thing about life or the choices life forces you to make. They had nothing to offer him.

Besides, I don’t even know why I’m here. No use making friends when I could be gone at any second.

The sound of metal scraping across the floor jarred him out of his bland contemplation of nothing, and he turned to see the perky, grinning face of the younger boy who’d darted past him on his way out of their shared room earlier that morning, and the equally perky, grinning face of a girl he hadn’t met. He watched, perplexed, as both scavenged chairs from nearby desks and positioned themselves around his.

The girl spoke first, plopping a cloth-wrapped box in front of him on the desk. “Here you are! We just went all over the place looking for you. Figures the new boy wouldn’t even leave the classroom on his first day.” She flipped a thick wave of long black hair over her shoulder and glared at his roommate.

The boy shrugged the thin, not-quite-grown-in-yet broadness of his shoulders. “I know I saw him leave when sensei called the lunch break.” He smiled sheepishly and pushed hand through his hair. “I guess you came back, huh?”

He stared at them both and made an unsure noise of assent.

The girl rolled her eyes at him. “Never mind this guy. He’s not very good at doing what he’s told -- even when it’s keeping an eye on new people.” She started unwrapping the bento in front of her. “Anyway, we found you, and that’s all that matters. Now we can get to know you. Here. Curry bread is good, but it’s not the best for a meal. I just happened to make extra today, so you can share with us.” She produced two sets of chopsticks and set one in front of him. “Think of it as a welcome present.”

His eyes traveled from the chopsticks, to the girl, to his roommate. He made sure to keep his expression neutral, but couldn’t help wondering: What do they want?

His roommate shrugged again. “Sorry. It’s hard to stop her when she sets her mind on something, and she wanted to meet the new kid.”

The girl nodded enthusiastically, her dark eyes sparkling. “Yep. You’re the third transfer to come to 2-B this year.” She pointed a well-manicured finger at her chest. “I was the first, really early this year. The person who takes care of me wasn’t happy with the school I was at, so he got me in here as soon he was sure that the high reputation this place has is earned.” She pointed to his roommate. “This guy’s only been here a few months. He came here with a scholarship. Isn’t that interesting?” She slanted a sly, teasing look at the gangly kid across from him. “He’s not even really that smart.”

“Hey, Haibara!” His roommate protested, using a pair of his own chopsticks to pick at the contents of the two layers in the bento she’d just spread out in front of them. “The curriculum here is weird! I’m still catching up is all! Besides, it was a sports scholarship anyway.”

Haibara?

The girl’s expression grew doubtful. “Still, with your grades --”

“How many games have we lost since I started as forward?”

She dismissed him with an airy wave of her hand and a secret grin flirting with her mouth. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say, Mr. Soccer Star.”

Still, he allowed his gaze to float between them, not sure whether to be amused or annoyed. Transfer students? Why are they bothering me, anyway?

She noticed and stopped to tilt her head at him. “Don’t worry. We don’t bite. They said you came from Tokyo, right? Well, so did we. I thought we could be friends. And you know how it is. We transfer students have to stick together.” She nodded her head at the chopsticks he had yet to pick up. “Now eat! Quickly, before this guy gets everything.”

Soccer Star (whose name he still couldn’t remember) grumbled at her through a mouthful of onigiri.

Sighing, he let his shoulders relax just a bit and cautiously picked up his chopsticks to snag a funny-looking, but delicious-smelling, piece of meat. “Okay.” No harm in free food.

The girl called Haibara’s grin returned, full of mischief. “So…. Does the new kid like playing shogi?”

His hand paused and the morsel hovered below his lips, tempting his mouth with waves of taste. Had she just asked him about a strategy game? “Shogi?” She nodded and he lowered his hand. “Why?”

Her eyes took on a sentimental droop that was kind of cute. “I used to play all the time at home when I was little, but I’ve only just started getting any good at it. Then I had to come all the way out here, and I have no one to play with to keep improving.” Her eyes slanted an accusatory look at the boy still stuffing his face next to her. “I’ve been trying it with Mr. Soccer Star, but he’s not very good yet.”

Soccer Star shrugged and made a face. “I don’t remember how to play. I never liked shogi.”

“Anyway, we’ve kind of formed our own little unofficial club.” She plucked up a piece of shrimp. “If you know anything about it, maybe you can play with me. I want him to see how much I’ve improved the next time I visit home.” She tucked the shrimp into her mouth and chewed delicately.

He blinked at her. “What makes you think I would be any good at shogi?”

She eyed him, and the wise look in her gaze caught him off guard. “It’s the way you look -- you watch everything that’s going on around you with this calm, measuring face, as if you’re considering different things that could happen. You’ve only just got here, but I’ll bet you have most of what you’ve seen memorized already. I’ve seen that look before, and the people who wore them were always better shogi players than me.”

He stared at her…and suddenly memories of late nights and warm drinks and laughing adults coaxing him through moves, using the game to teach him more than just strategies, swirled to the front of his head. They flooded his brain, and for a moment felt almost as real as the years-gone nights when they’d happened. Bittersweet as they were, the memories didn’t hurt. They warmed him, made him want to smile, and he couldn’t help his tiny spurt of surprise.

Haibara’s solemnity dropped away with another grin. “So even if you don’t remember much about how to play, you’ll probably be a good player once we teach you.”

He glanced at his roommate who shrugged again and sucked on the straw of a juice packet that he’d produced from seemingly nowhere. “Sorry,” he said again. “I should have warned you. Haibara’s like that, too.”

A reluctant grin turned the corners of his mouth. “No, it’s fine. I might know something about shogi after all.”

Haibara squealed, clapping her hands and making both boys wince. She turned to Soccer Star. “There, you see Higurashi? I told you we’d all get along.”

Higurashi. Satisfaction bloomed as his memory clicked into place. “Higurashi Souta.”

The boy across from him swallowed around a lump of food that was obviously too big for his throat, then looked faintly discomfited before he shook it off. “I told you this morning, Kuromoto. We’re living in the same space for a while, so you might as well call me Souta.”

The smile grew a little bigger, despite his best efforts to pin it back.

Haibara nodded, and picked up her own chopsticks. “All right, it’s settled. I’ll make lunch for everyone, and in exchange, Kuromoto will play shogi with us after school. Right, Kuromoto?”

“It’s K --” His chest clenched in warning and he swallowed the air and his words. His smile wavered for the briefest of moments before he regained it, nonplussed at his near-blunder. “Haku. Haku is fine.” He gave a semblance of a respectful tip of his head. “Since we’re all transfer students.”

“Right. We’re all friends, so we can forget the formality.” She dimpled and pointed another piece of tempura at him. “You can call me Rin.”

************************************************************ ************

A/N: OMG! I LIVE!

Yes, it’s been over a year. No, I don’t really have a good explanation other than life, really. And writer’s block, which is something I seem to have a lot of. *beats self repeatedly in penance* I’m really, honestly, truly sorry. I didn’t mean to leave at that for so long. Anyway, this has got to be one of my longest chapters to date, so I’m hoping that makes up for the long wait a bit.

Now everyone thank JRMaxwell for prodding me into this: (deep breath)

HAPPY (belated) BIRTHDAY, MAXY-BOY!!!!

*shrugs* Hey, what can I say? I tried. I swear I did. A little late’s not too bad, right? (See? No sparkly birthday posts. No big anything. Just a tiny little present. Tiny, really.)

Um… the next chapter? Well, no promises, but I have every intention of finishing this story. I swear.

Most sincerely,

~Quill