InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Waiting on a Wish ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

CHAPTER 2

Something was tickling her nose. Moving her head slightly, she scrunched up her face to rid herself of the itch. Whatever it was continued to pull her from her place in the comfortable nothingness of fatigued slumber. When ignoring it didn’t work, Kagome let out a reluctant sigh and gave up, opening her eyes to glare drowsily at whatever had decided to rob her of sleep this time.

She blinked. Hair?

Long, silvery-white hair. It flowed over the sleek, firm shoulder pillowing her head, tangling in with her raven strands--also running over the shoulder she had apparently borrowed. She blinked again. ACK! Scrambling up, she attempted to exit the bed--only to be stopped by the immovable arm around her waist. She stared, struck temporarily immobile with disbelief.

How in the world did I end up here?!

She turned slightly so that she was lying flush along his length. Her bewildered gaze traveled back along the arm and over his body, taking in his appearance. The physician in her visually probed his injuries, nodding with approval at his progress. Her hand fisted against her bare thigh, resisting the urge to rub at the silky new fur on his left ear. She shook her head. The recuperative abilities of youkai constantly amazed her. If only humans could heal like that. She smiled wryly. If humans could heal like that, maybe I could finally get a decent nights’ sleep.

She glanced down at the arm caging her waist, mystified as to how she had gotten up on the bed.

I must have crawled up next to him while I was sleeping, she thought tiredly, I just hope I didn’t cause any…Oh SHIT! I’m still in my underwear!

Her robe had loosened while she slept, yawning open, revealing her favorite matching set of pale green lace. She could feel her face heat up. A quick peek at his peaceful, blissfully unaware expression told her he hadn‘t yet realized that she had draped herself on top of him.

Blushing furiously, she reached down gently to pull his hand from around her waist, glancing at the clock as she did so. Nine! She could hear the noises of the patients who had already arrived--some for regular check-ups, some in need of quick medical attention. They saw all kinds in their clinic, both humans and demons.

The clinic employed fifteen doctors and over thirty nurses to cover their twenty-four hour services. The nurses scheduled for the day shift would have arrived hours ago--probably Miso, she was always first--and she would have awakened Dr. Hiraga…Kagome looked around the small post-op recovery room they had moved InuYasha too. It was out of the way, true. But the likelihood of her not being seen…a small groan escaped.

I’m going to kill Sango. How could her best friend have just left her in bed, wrapped in the arms of a patient? In my underwear, for gods’ sake! That has to violate just about every ethical standard I know!

The hand keeping her trapped suddenly moved, shifting from her waist to her hip, and she froze, glancing at his face. Midnight blue eyes widened as they collided with an intent, golden gaze. She felt the flush on her face deepen. His eyes drifted downward to the full frontal view she was treating him to, and she reached down, tugging futilely at the trapped edges of her robe.

“Ummm…could you possibly let me go?”

He stared at her for a moment, then pulled his hand away from her hip, grazing the top of her thigh in the process. She had to resist the urge to shiver at the sensation. He watched, his eyes never leaving her, as she awkwardly covered her body with the edge of her robe.

“You’re the one who took care of me last night.” He made it a statement, not a question.

Kagome nodded, still red, and shifted to slide from the bed. He drew his elbow under him, and propped himself up slightly, grimacing a little at the movement. Noticing, Kagome immediately reversed directions, placing her hand on his bandaged chest, preventing any further motion. “Stop! What do you think you’re doing? You have a serious injury, and you could make it worse by moving around before you’re ready.”

Black brows rose slightly, then drew together in a frown, “Feh! As if a little scratch like this could slow me down. I’ll be fine in a few hours.”

Kagome’s eyes narrowed at the condescension in his tone.

“A little scratch?! And I suppose it was a little scratch that flattened you on my operating table last night?” She leaned closer until they were practically nose to nose, her hand pressing her surprised patient back against the mattress. “Let me tell you something, buster. That little scratch--as you call it--would have killed you if I hadn’t been around to cleanse the poison in your system. You should be thanking me for saving your life, not shrugging off the injury that almost took it!”

His breath escaped in an almost silent hiss, and his eyes narrowed slightly. One clawed hand grasped around her wrist, long fingers encircling carefully, gently pulling pressure away from his wound. Kagome’s eyes widened at the feel of his fingers, suddenly intensely aware of how little distance remained between them.

Time seemed to freeze as his eyes carefully studied her features. Their breaths mingled together in the air, and his nose twitched slightly. Reflexively, Kagome stopped breathing. A fingertip touched her cheek, caressing lightly down the smooth texture, the merest graze of a claw causing a slight quiver in her body. He immediately took note, satisfaction gleaming in his amber depths.

“Ah-hah. I see the two of you are already acquainted.”

Two pairs of eyes turned to the doorway of the little recovery room. A tall, handsome man stood leaning against the doorframe, one arm folded casually across the other, a delighted smirk spreading over his face. He was dressed with relaxed elegance--slacks and a dress shirt instead of his monk’s robes--and his pitch-black hair flowed loose around his face, instead of bound to its usual tail at his neck.

“Miroku.” Kagome frowned quizzically at his knowing grin. Then she gasped. She was flat-out draped over her patient--half-naked, in a gaping robe, and looking for all the world as if her intentions were anything but professional. With a yelp, she scrambled off the bed, ignoring the cringe on the hanyou’s face when she pushed off his bandaged chest. Her hands secured her robe, belting it forcefully. She wondered idly if it was possible for her face to get any redder.

“I had hoped that you and InuYasha would get along, but…” Miroku shook his head in mock amazement. “Really, my friends. Not even I move this fast.”

“I was just…examining his injuries,” The young doctor muttered, bad-temperedly ripping open the nearest cabinet and rifling through it. Where in the hell did they put the extra scrubs for this room? She was very definitely sick of flashing the general public with her Victoria’s Secret.

Miroku raised a black eyebrow, dark eyes twinkling. “Well then…you can examine me any time, beautiful Kagome.”

“Keh!” InuYasha’s attention shifted, and he scowled at the doorway. “You need to examine yourself first, monk.” He gestured. “Forgotten how to dress yourself in the morning without Sango around?”

Miroku looked down in surprise. His loose black dress shirt hung crookedly from his well-proportioned frame, quite a few buttons undone--showing several inches of smooth, muscled skin--and the rest out of place. Grinning, he reached a hand up to the two golden circlets that hung from his left lobe and tugged casually. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to talk to my beloved fiancée about that. They were straight when I came in earlier this morning. She really should learn how to put on my clothes if she’s going to be taking them off all the time.”

“Oh really? Maybe I should stop taking them off then.” A hand came out to hit his shoulder from behind, and a foot hooked around his ankle and yanked, wrenching his feet out from under him. He sprawled forward, barely catching himself on his hands.

Wincing, he sat up and looked behind him, one hand brushing back his thick, dark locks. “Sango, my love. I didn’t realize you were back there.”

“Humph. Obviously not.” Ignoring InuYasha’s snicker, Sango glared at her future husband from the doorway, assuring herself of his penitence before turning to her best friend. The doctor flung a one of the doors closed, muttered incoherently as she turned and surveyed Sango critically. Her face was clean and bandaged--Miroku’s doing, Kagome was sure. Her sleek hunting outfit was gone, replaced by a comfortable pair of jeans and a sweater, her thick, deep brown hair hanging free to her waist. Obviously, Miroku had brought more than his concern for her well-being.

“Is that why you neglected to remove me from the arms of my patient?” She tromped across the floor, yanking open the next cabinet and rummaged through its contents. “That was a violation of a several codes of conduct, Sango. I could have been reprimanded if I was caught.”

Sango flushed slightly at the reprimand and the inference. “My apologies, Kagome. You just looked so tired, and I felt bad for pulling you out of bed so early in the morning when you obviously needed the sleep.”

Kagome sighed, pulling out a box of bandages and glaring at them. She didn‘t even look at InuYasha, though she could literally feel his gaze following her every movement. “That’s fine, Sango, but you could have just woken me up and let me change into…anything else.”

“Well,” Miroku sighed, climbing to his feet and stepping protectively close to Sango, “the fact is we did try to move you. But our good friend the hanyou here didn‘t want to let you go.” Miroku gestured towards the bed, where Inuyasha half-sat, his eyes following Kagome’s every move. “Since we both find it unwise to provoke a wounded youkai--and seeing as how the growls he made every time we got near you sounded very provoked--we felt it best to just let the both of you alone for a while.”

Kagome looked at the injured half-demon on the bed, eyes wide.

A small amount of red stained the bridge of InuYasha’s nose as he snarled at the grinning man. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, you stupid monk.” His voice was low, containing the merest hint of a rumble.

Miroku shook his head eloquently. “I don’t expect you do. After all, you were unconscious at the time.” He looked at Kagome. “We kept everyone away, in case you were wondering. No one saw you. No harm done, I would say.”

Kagome rolled her eyes, sighing deeply, her fit of temper over. Miroku was enjoying himself way too much. Time to end his fun. “Whatever. It’s fine. No harm done,” she agreed. Throwing the bandages back into the cabinet, she closed the door. “I’m going to find something decent to wear. Stay here and keep an eye on him until I can check those dressings. Don’t let him move around until I get back.”

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Kagome stroked her fingers carefully around the edges of the wound, probing the raw pinkness of new muscle and tissue where a cavernous hole had been just hours before. Her tone was soft as she gave her verdict, and, of their own volition, her fingers lingered for just a moment. “No skin yet, but…you’re healing much faster than I thought you would.”

She was close again; close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body. She wondered if he was always this warm, or if the heat was just a by-product of the rapid healing process.

“This place is a healing center for youkai?” His voice was low and rough, and he seemed enthralled by the feel of her fingers on his skin.

Kagome looked up to meet his gaze, and blushed slightly. Shaking her head, she turned to slather an herbal solution on the fresh bandages before she re-taped the injury. “Not just youkai. Anyone is welcome here. We specialize in both youkai and human care--mostly emergency, but some come here for regular check-ups; sore throats, mumps, measles, general health, things like that.” Try as she might, she just couldn’t force her voice to regain that crisp, professional quality she was usually so proud of.

“All the doctors here have a working knowledge of both youkai and human tendencies towards drugs and modern therapies, as well as the more holistic approach of old traditional medicine. I’ve found that the traditional approach seems to work best with youkai. We even have an herb garden out back.”

InuYasha was silent as she finished wrapping and stepped back to study him for a moment. She was surprised at the disappointment she felt that he was recovered enough to leave. He watched her closely, with an intense golden stare that sent a frisson along her spine. She blinked, disconcerted. That weird fascination that had kept her close last night was hadn’t faded now that she knew he was fine. In fact, it only seemed to be growing by the second. This is silly. She closed her eyes and sighed.

“Well, I can’t see any reason why you can’t go home. Just don’t do anything strenuous until it’s completely healed over. Get some rest, and keep it bandaged until you have a healthy layer of skin to protect the muscle.” She tossed some bandages to Sango, who stood with Miroku on the other side of the bed. “Make sure he follows physician’s orders.”

Without waiting for further reaction, Kagome yawned hugely, stretching in the ugly blue scrubs that now covered her body. She was just thankful to have something decent to walk home in. “Now, if no one minds, I’m going home--and nobody had better get injured or dead until I’ve had a good ten hours of sleep.”

Sango nodded, straightening away from her perch on Miroku’s hip. “Come on, Kagome. Kirara and I will take you home. Miroku,” she instructed, “make sure he gets home.”

The two men watched the girls exit the room. At the door, Kagome hesitated, looking back at InuYasha. “Come back in a few days and let me check it,” she murmured.

He hesitated, nodded, and then she was gone.

Miroku shook his head in fascination. He’d never seen InuYasha react this way to anyone before. It was unheard of for him to be so compliant. Usually, he bit the head off of anyone who tried to treat his injuries, or refused treatment altogether. “My father sends the Council’s regards, and thanks for a job well done. Payment has already been transferred to your account.” He shook his head. “Minus the cost of the mess.”

Miroku’s family was one of the many old families of wealth and power that had been involved in the birth and influence of the Alliance. His family often oversaw the financial side of the Alliance’s dealings--which, to most minds, was akin to having the foxes guard the henhouse. Miroku frequently represented his family in Council meetings, despite the fact that he was still technically in training under the old monk who acted as his master. The Nakajima family still held great sway (bribery and trickery both being family specialties) over most of the humans and many of the demon lords that sat on the Council.

“Fine, whatever.” InuYasha slid gingerly from the bed, testing the movement of his body by degrees. “Damn.” Irritated, he carefully shrugged into the bright red haori, picking up his sword and securing it to his side. “Godsdamned spider.” His voice reflected his disgust. “It should never have caught me off guard like that. What the hell was something that big doing in Marunouchi anyway? It was the size of a fucking truck!”

Miroku shrugged. “Terrorizing people. My father said it looked like it was searching for something, but we can’t be sure. Big ones like that only live to eat and to collect power, so it was either looking for power, or for its next meal. The big question is how it got into the city unnoticed.”

He frowned in a moment of rare seriousness. “It’s strange. This is the third incident in as many weeks. Father says even the Council is starting to grow concerned. We've managed to keep it quiet so far, but these recent attacks are starting to draw attention from the human government. If it becomes more than that, the youkai population won't like it. If we don't find a way to curb them….” He shook his head and grimaced. “And once again, five hundred years of Alliance stability is threatened by those who don't like peace and harmony between human and youkai. After Ryukotsusei, everyone had hoped we wouldn't see any major threats for a generation or two.”

InuYasha grunted, a fleeting acknowledgement of the monk’s words, his expression uneasy. He fell silent, staring at the door.

Miroku grinned, thrilled to see his friend so distracted. “She’s not coming back today. Her next shift doesn’t start until two o’clock tomorrow afternoon.”

The hanyou didn’t respond for a long moment, not taking his eyes off the door. His frown deepened. “Who is she?”

Miroku expression went from wicked delight to mild astonishment. They’d known each other for most of their lives, both of them hailing from influential families within the Alliance Council. They’d played together as boys, scrapped together as teenagers, and now worked beside one another as men. He considered InuYasha one of his closest friends, and he’d never seen the hanyou act this way.

How…interesting.

“Her name is Kagome Higurashi. She and Sango really hit it off in college, and they’ve stayed close since they graduated. I myself have known her for a couple of years, and I consider her a friend. She’s quite a young woman. She graduated near the top of her class, but chose to work here, in a free clinic, because this is where the people she most wants to treat come. She’s an excellent physician and an incredibly generous person.”

Miroku hesitated, unable to read his friend, unsure of his intentions. “I don’t know if you sensed this or not, but she’s got the spiritual powers of a miko. Her family has run a Shinto shrine for generations. I’m told her power is very old, and very potent. She’s actually in training with the old woman who funds this clinic--also a very powerful miko. And a very wealthy one, I might add.”

“A miko in training, huh?” InuYasha folded his arms inside his billowing sleeves and started for the door. “Feh. Whatever. I’m going home. Get those bandages from Sango and bring them to me later, will ya?”

“You need a ride home?”

A white head tossed. “Hah! I’d rather walk than ride in a car with you.”

Miroku raised a skeptical brow. “And I suppose you prefer the mountain of speeding tickets and reckless driving citations sitting in your glove compartment?”

“Keh!”

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“Come on in. You want some tea?” Kagome gestured to the small coffee table sitting in the middle of the living room, opposite the TV that she rarely got around to watching.

“I’m sure a cup wouldn’t hurt.” Sango agreed. “But I can’t stay for long. Miroku will need help convincing InuYasha to stay calm for the next few days.”

Kagome glanced curiously at her friend as she started the tea. “You three are good friends, aren’t you?”

Sango nodded, kneeling with her back to the low couch. Kirara curled up at her feet, her head tucked between the black stripes on her tails. “We all grew up knowing each other, although Miroku's known InuYasha much longer than I have. They've never actually said as much, but I think they were inseparable as boys. We would see each other infrequently at various social and political functions, but I didn’t know them well back then. I think it helped InuYasha more than I can understand to have an ally among the pure-blooded children of the old families.”

Sango propped her head in her palm, her expression far away. “If I recall, InuYasha stopped coming to Council events after his parents died and his brother took over the position as sitting Inu-lord. He was still pretty young back then.”

Kagome turned in surprise. “His brother is one of the sitting demon lords?”

Sango nodded, a slight grimace of distaste twisting her mouth. “They don’t get along very well. Lord head-up-his-ass doesn’t think very highly of InuYasha’s human side. He considers him a stain to the family name, and InuYasha returns the sentiment. As far as I know, the only time they ever interact is when the Council calls InuYasha in to hunt a rogue. Sesshoumaru still barely acknowledges his brother, even after InuYasha moved out of the family estate and made a name for himself as a hunter.”

“He’s good.”

“Very good. One of the best. He’s even gotten the recognition of my family, and that’s saying a lot.”

Sango’s family had been the official hunters for the Alliance since its inception. They even ran a self-defense school that trained humans in some of their more well-known methods, and the goods and weapons they made from exterminated youkai fetched high prices in all markets--both legal and black. “We started partnering up a few years ago, after the larger wild youkai began to encroach on the city. It’s easier to take down a big enemy when you have someone watching your back.”

Sango smirked. “Of course, Miroku had something to do with that. He was worried about me hunting for the family on my own, so he asked InuYasha to look after me. They think I don’t know, and I’ve decided to let them keep their little fantasy. It’s good for a man’s ego to think he’s protecting a woman.”

Kagome laughed and handed Sango a cup of hot tea as she settled down beside her. “Straightened out all his strings, haven’t you? How are the wedding plans coming, by the way?”

Sango grimaced. “How else? Not at all. They’re arguing again. Miroku’s father insists that it be soon--he would settle for yesterday, if he could. He’s anxious for some grandchildren. My father is adamant that Kohaku finish his training and gets him MBA before I marry away from the family. Neither of them wants to back down. It’s starting to get nasty.”

“You don’t think they’ll try and call it off, do you?”

“An arranged marriage? Are you kidding? Neither of our fathers is willing to bear the dishonor. They were stuck with each other when they stuck us together.”

The Nakajima and Yanagimoto families had been feuding for generations over some long-forgotten slight, so Kagome found the story of Miroku and Sango’s betrothal highly amusing. On the night of Sango’s birth, her father and Miroku’s father had somehow ended up celebrating together with a full bottle of sake. At the end of the night, as the result of a drunken pact, the firstborn daughter of the Yanagimoto family had been bound to the firstborn son of the Nakajima family.

Since both men had been too proud to reveal the questionable circumstances of the betrothal, and too egotistical to back out, Miroku and Sango had each grown up completely unaware of who their betrothed was. It wasn’t until college that Sango’s mother had finally put her foot down and demanded to know exactly who her husband had given her only daughter to. The fathers had reluctantly called a meeting, and both sets of relatives had received quite a shock.

Left with no choice, and the burden of family honor, Miroku and Sango had begun a courtship of sorts.

At first, Sango had been horrified. Miroku was a charmer who always had a different girl on his arm, and his eyes on the next conquest. Settling down with a wife seemed like the last thing he was suited for. Kagome had lost count of the nights that Sango’s late telephone rantings at her lecherous future husband had woken her from a sound sleep. But eventually, slowly, Miroku had revealed the deeper parts of his personality to her--the wisdom, the humor, the gentle nature--and the reluctant hunter had fallen in love, much to her dismay.

Fortunately, Miroku was as desperately in love with Sango as she was with him. They’d just had a hard time owning up it. Kagome had recognized it long before either one of the stubborn couple had. Watching them blunder their way to honesty had been one of the highlights of her college career.

In time (and with just a bit of delighted, subversive plotting on Kagome’s part) the two had managed to admit their feelings to one another. Miroku had turned out to be a very attentive fiancé, his wandering eyes (and hands) settling permanently on Sango, and Kagome highly approved of the healthy glow Sango sported these days. Both families had finally resigned themselves to tolerating what would turn out to be a very beneficial union between two very powerful houses.

Except now they couldn’t stop arguing about the wedding itself.

Sango sighed. “Even I’m starting to get impatient. I wish we could just get married, but both our parents absolutely insist on a traditional ceremony. It's one of the only things they do agree on.” Her smile was wicked. “Maybe we should just move in together. They might get the hint and proceed with the plans--if only to assure I’m married before I’m pregnant.”

Kagome burst out laughing. “Sango, that was positively cunning. You’re spending too much time with Miroku. He’s starting to rub off on you.”

“Rub off? It was his idea!” Sango looked thoughtful. “Of course, he wanted to actually get me pregnant.” She rolled her eyes. “Said it would add a sense of urgency.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~

Sango left soon after, claiming that she needed to find Miroku to give him InuYasha’s bandages and herbal solution.

Kagome shook her head as she stepped into the shower of her Western style bathroom. She was tired again, but due to the accumulation of blood and grime from surgery, a shower had become a necessity before she could sleep. Her thoughts wandered back to InuYasha as she rinsed the shampoo from her hair, and she wondered what it was about this particular patient that refused to let her go. She just couldn’t get him out of her mind.

Pressing against him on that narrow bed had felt…odd. She had been almost on top of him--full-length, body-to-body. Had felt his heartbeat, the steady rise of his breathing. It had seemed so…intimate.

She kept remembering the feel of his hands on her bare hips. They had been rough, strong, and warm, slightly calloused with use. The claws tipping his fingers had trailed ever so gently along her skin as they moved from waist to hip to thigh. The thought sent a little tingle along her spine and into her belly. And his eyes…. She flushed, realizing that her hands were lingering over the same places that his had been just a little earlier that morning.

Ok, this is ridiculous, Kagome thought to herself, shutting off the hot water firmly and stepping out of her tiny bath. I’m just sleep-deprived and over-emotional from almost losing a patient. Some sort of weird doctor-patient syndrome. I’ll get over it. I’ll probably never even see him again.

Of course, he had indicated that he might come back….

Enough! She ordered herself. Sleep first, then rational thought will return.

She fell into bed and buried her face in a pillow, her last thoughts of soft, silky fur.

Maybe it was the ears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He sat in the dark for a long time after he got home, thinking of the doctor and her amazing scent. An alluring scent, burned into his brain for all time. A familiar scent. One he’d begun to think he’d never find. He felt tense and alert, his head whirling with certainty, body charged with an edgy excitement.

Finally, finally…

His ears twitched absently as he stared into space, considering his options.

Kagome. She was a friend of Sango’s. He couldn’t believe it. All this time, all his watchfulness, and she’d been right there all along.

He wasn’t sure if he liked the fact that both Miroku and Sango were clearly involved, though. He really didn’t want them in the way. Although, knowing Sango, he couldn’t see any way of avoiding it. And Miroku would follow Sango to hell itself. There had to be a way to keep them out of it.

Another thought struck, and his ears flicked again.

He was pretty sure she was a virgin. Her scent had held a definite lack of sexual experience, and she didn’t carry another male’s scent within her own, as she would when mated. Good. No male to challenge him. But with her scent as it was, it announced clearly to the entire youkai public that she was unattached.

He growled, his protective instincts hackling at the thought. Not anymore.

The obvious answer was to mark her with his scent, make sure that no other youkai male would come near her. Besides, the sooner she accepted that she belonged with him, the safer she would be.

The rest could come later.

A small, satisfied smile tipped the corners of his mouth. He hadn’t expected it. He hadn’t expected it to be so…strong. Nothing he’d ever felt had prepared him for the immediate physical reaction between them. His to her, and hers to him. He had smelled it on her, how utterly fascinated she was by him, had felt it in the tension of her body as she lay over top of him. Maybe it would make things a little easier on both of them.

He glanced around at his lavish apartment. It was more of a penthouse, really, taking up the top floor of a small building. He had chosen the apartment more for its seclusion and its view than the luxury--although he wasn’t complaining. A long balcony lined two sides, looking out over a large, beautiful park, filled with wild trees--almost like an extension of the forest outside the city limits.

The building itself was just outside the park, in a quiet, upscale neighborhood. It had its own large grounds, as well as a fence separating it from the nearest streetlight by several hundred feet. He preferred it that way--he could actually see stars at night, instead of neon lights and haze.

The inside was extensive, with a den, a kitchen and a master bedroom, plus several other rooms that he never used, along with a large, traditional bath. It was an extremely comfortable place to live.

All impressive enough, but still merely trappings to him. It was still just a place to live. He could afford it, so he lived here. It hadn’t always been this way, but hunting--for the Alliance, at least--paid very good money. And if he had to, he could live anywhere. Hell, he could survive alone in the forest better than most.

He’d never hunted for the money, though. That had never been his reason for anything. The money, like the apartment, was just a perk. Still….

He wondered if Kagome would like it.

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A/N: Thanks for the reviews, they really helped motivate me. Please be patient, midterms and work tend to interfere with writing sometimes. Besides, I’m a bit of a perfectionist, so I like to get these as perfect as possible before I post them, and I’ll often go back and edit what I’ve posted several times. So anyway, thanks for the encouragement, and please keep letting me know what you think. The more you say, the better I getJ